So there I was, minding my own business, when my fabulous new gastroenterologist said "Gee, Miss Rich. I don't see any reason for us to have to do that colonoscopy next Wednesday. Unless something comes up, I think we're good to wait another six months to a year."
And then, without thinking about the fact that this was a) my NEW gastroenterologist and, therefore, not yet fully initiated into what it means to have to deal with me, and b) that I was outside of my house and not, in fact, sitting in my Happy Chair wearing my eighteen year old sweatpants and old man Hanes t-shirt that I fished out if the bottom of the laundry basket...I jumped up, kissed him full on the face, and hollered WOOOOO HOOOOOO!
The truth of the matter is that the actual procedure doesn't bother me in the least bit, and the resulting confirmation that I've managed to dodge the colon cancer bullet a little longer is well worth having to eat green jello for a day. I also do not fret the prep, since I read somewhere that Gweneth Paltrow spends a ba-jillion dollars a month to have somebody clean her plumbing for her, so I figure if it's good enough for Gweneth....
The part of the colonoscopy that I most dread is the prospect of somebody new being subjected to my heiney parts. It took me damn near 20 years to get used to the idea that my old doc was going to have to witness all the glory that is me, and now I have to go through all of that with a new guy? No, thank you....I prefer to succumb to that sweet sweet anesthesia drip with the comforting thought that the healthcare professionals assigned to my nether regions will NOT, in fact, require trauma counseling.
So it would appear that a Festivus miracle has happened right here in Hoosierville and I can remain fully clothed and unexposed for the duration. Egg nog for everybody!
Stewey (and Bosco!) and I are doing laundry and housecleaning today in preparation for.....well, not much, actually. We're going to be very very quiet at Chez Spinster this year, but I did promise a little field trip to view some Christmas lights if everybody behaves and we get our chores done.
Progress continues on Victorian Ribbons. I promise a picture soon when it's not so darn gloomy that it makes everything look like we're living with the Addams Family. I get it...we're not going to have snow for Christmas. But does it have to be 48 and MISTing?!