So you'd think a gastroenterologist who cranks through colonoscopies has heard every nervous butt joke there is. Being a sailor and a somewhat articulate person, I pride myself on being a bit of an artist with foul and off-color humor. So it was with great pride that I got a laugh out of the doctor, the nurse-anesthetist and the nurse when I got knocked out to take a spin on the Black Stallion yesterday.
They gave me propofol and something else I think, something to induce amnesia, as not only did I not feel anything, I don't rememeber feeling asleep or waking up, and was fully lucid on my lights being turned on as well.
My first words on waking were 'Is it already done?' When I was told it was all done, I said "Wow, I don't remember anything at all. Reminds me of sleepovers at Michael Jackson's house when I was a kid."
I got a good laugh out of that one. I hope, and believe, that it was genuine. Hopefully it was a novel enough riff on an old theme.
Anyhow, that was hurdle one here on my week off. Apparently I have the ass of a champion, as my bung was pristine, requiring no sanding and spackling to keep it silky smooth. Sure my eyes are going, my joints ache, hair is falling out and I have tits now, but my Windward Passage is in its prime.
Today was a more serious appointment, and to be continued. More testing required. Still, I'm glad that's done. Bloodwork is next on Monday and back to work on Tuesday. At some point I'll sit down for more than 30 minutes and actually have a nice time, but it's been butts to nuts with appointments and obligations thus far.
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