Colonoscopy preparation is just about the least dignified thing in the world, even when conducted in the privacy and corner of your bathroom at home. But when done in hospital with a clinical attendant right there, a room mate only a few feet away trying to sleep, and with a body already exhausted to the point of utter frustration and hopelessness...there's true indignity in such an experience.
I had to turn away visitors today, for fairly obvious reasons. Still, when doing so, that doesn't mean you aren't in social need. In fact, it may be that at times like this you are most in need of support. The problem is that most of us, like me, are too proud and too horror-struck at the prospect of needing physical support when we are a ball of uncontrolled and uncontrollable angst and physical failure.
I find myself without borders today, without strength, without dignity, and, even though it's there, without support.
And, to make it worse, my carefully crafted email notes don't seem to be reaching their destinations. I'll try to figure that out Monday afternoon, but if you are one of the ones who may be thinking I've ignored your equally well crafted notes to me, rest assured. It's a technical glitch. You are on my mind.
At least it's only another 16 or 17 hours until the colonoscopy. Whatever the news coming from that procedure, there are some major challenges ahead, some very important consultations to take place with my oncologists, and some decisions to be made.
Today I can totally identify with Edward's character in The Bucket List (played by Jack Nicholson), who says, "Somewhere some lucky guy is having a heart attack..."