No news is no news is purgatory. Poop is a 4-letter word.
First, just a quick update. I had my scans last Thursday, but I still don’t have the results.
Now, the real reason for this update. Poop is a 4-letter word. So is crap, shit, merd, and probably a hundred other words for feces. In fact, feces looks suspiciously like a plural, so let’s just call it fece and throw it in the mix.
Medical professionals, however, prefer to refer to a patient’s bowels or stool. (Except my doctor, who likes to tell me it’s time for a poop talk. I guess oncologists have to get their levity somewhere.) Anyway, apparently, my doctor is concerned that my “stool” has not been fully “formed” for the past three weeks, nor has its condition improved. Actually, it’s probably getting worse. Toss in some increasing nausea (how one can think about poop constantly and not get nauseated is a legit question), and guess who gets scheduled for a colonoscopy!
Shittiest birthday present ever!
Yeah, that’s right. I turned 39 today, and my doctor gave me a colonoscopy appointment for a present. (I am totally repentant about any previous birthday disappointments, slights, or sadness.)
So that’s scheduled for tomorrow.
I’ll be in the corner with my laxative-flavored Gatorade. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll be in the toilet with it. Please have a slice of birthday cake for me since I’m not allowed to eat solid foods.
In conclusion, Betty has become a little shit.