So to speak. Chip had his colonoscopy Tuesday.
I went into my office in White Plains on Monday. The drive is about 2 hours and 45 minutes. I listen to my iPod or Sirius XM radio and think. As I was driving on Monday, perched on the Tappan Zee Bridge I thought to myself, poor Chip will be doing his prep today. I remembered my own colonoscopy in December and how I fainted in the bathroom in the middle of the prep process. (The Prep is the worst part, the exam itself is easy and painless)
Coming home that night, I hear no movement upstairs. I expect Chip is a prisoner in the bathroom or doubled over on the bed. Nope. He is sitting up in bed, close to the bathroom, playing on his iPad and sipping water. Really Chip? Was it not enough I birthed our two children, had breast surgery and a hysterectomy and other odd assorted medical procedures. Couldn’t you just suffer a bit? For me?
Well Karma comes around and that morning, we stopped at Starbuck’s for a latte with light caramel drizzle. Oh, no coffee for Chip, sorry.
We went to St. Peter’s at 6:30am. We parted in the waiting room and they took Chip in to start the process. I joined the other ladies in the waiting room. Oddly for about 20 minutes, the men were getting the colonoscopies and the ladies were the designated drivers. I was the youngest among us by at least 15 years but when women get together to make fun of their husbands, there is no age issue…just easy laughs and life stories. One woman just survived a brain aneurism; one had major foot surgery and was in the boot after 3 months in a cast. The other woman lived ‘in the country’ and schlepped in with her husband. We talked about raising both our children and our husbands. The nurse called my name and I wished them all luck.
Chip was all tucked in in cubicle #6. He was wired up and the IV was in. He looked old in that gown and somewhat frail. That’s because my heart skips a beat thinking of living without him. Seeing him like that gives me some insight into the next 25 years of our life which I know will include the aging process but I hope not too many doctor and hospital visits. They have done the prep and they are ready to take him to surgery. Karen was his nurse and I told her to take care of him. I got a bit teary and I hate to let him go. I kissed him and said I love you. She told me she would take care of him.
God, I am a Drama Queen. By the time I went back to the waiting room, updated my lady friends and opened my Kindle, they were calling me back …he was all done. All is well. The diverticulosis is under control, no other issues. I kissed him and in his groggy state, he smiled. Ahhh.
Now we need to get him out of his happy place sleep and he needs to pass gas. Obviously the men that corresponded to the ladies in my new found club had no problem in that department. The sound was literally deafening and I felt like a 12-year old boy when I laughed out load at the sound of it. Encouraging my husband to pass gas on purpose was too much! Chip is starting to come around now and decides to go to the bathroom. In this drug induced state he grabs the IV pole and heads to the bathroom down the hall….his hinny blowing in the wind. I jump up and close the gown and help him into the bathroom. One of my lady friends is sitting with her sleeping, gas-passing husband and she catches a glimpse of my husband’s butt. I look at tell her, “that’s mine, no one gets to see that butt but me!”
We drive home and I tuck Chip into bed to sleep it off. Later I share the conversations we had while he was in happy land and he asks me why I was upset when they wheeled him into the OR. I tell him, “because I cannot live without you.” Ok maybe I can live without the gas-passing!