Real Old Man survived his long colonoscopy prep night and the next morning we headed to the Outpatient Anus Center for his procedure. I got no where with my request to video tape the first colonoscopy docu-comedy. What can I say, he has no sense of adventure and isn't a dreamer like me. He wouldn't even let me take a photo of him entering the butt facility. He feared one of the freaky Real Housewives fans on Twitter would see the name of the facility, track down and bribe one of the employees to get a video copy of his "scope", put it on You Tube and post it on an anonymous blog. I told him he was being ridiculous, nothing like that would ever happen... he gave me a weird combination stink eye/side eye look which made it clear I should just give it up.
After filling out some papers and paying ( I guess they want to make sure they get their money just in case something goes wrong and you aren't around to pay it), he was soon called back and I settled in to wait with a Chelsea Handler book. About every 15 minutes a new patient would arrive and were taken into the the back (after paying of course), while others slowly shuffled out. I don't know if they were moving so slowly because of drugs or just because they were so freaking old- they were all ancient- I mean really, really old. At the age of ninety do you really need to be worrying about colonoscopies?
After four chapters of "Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea" and a brief walk around the parking lot, an hour and forty five minutes had passed when a nurse called me back to the recovery room. There was my honey, sitting up with a sweet goofy smile on his face. I think he was enjoying the drugs... a lot. The nurse explained to me that everything went great, no problems were detected and he had the colon of a man half his age. He beamed with pride as if she had just compared him to a heavy weight boxing champion. She even made a comment that it was wonderful to have a patient that could hear and she didn't have to holler to be heard. He was smiling ear to ear by this time. The way ROM was puffing up, I wasn't sure if it was with pride or if they had over inflated him. I had no idea the way to his heart was to compliment his bowel. Hot damn, he could hear and he didn't have polyps hanging out his ass. He's a keeper. I mentioned I had noticed the advance age of the other patients I saw coming and going, but I refrained from telling her I thought it was mean to take those old peoples money and put them through the ordeal of having miles of tubing crammed up their poor old withered asses.
The nurse said the doctor would meet with us after ROM was dressed and handed me his folded clothes. Then she extended her hand with a glove and baby wipe... both ROM and I just stared at her, neither reaching out to take the offered glove and wipe. I broke the stalemate by blurting out: "I have to wipe his ass?" She looked at me a minute and then burst out laughing, and the other lady cleaning up the area on the other side of the curtain laughed and said that was the funniest thing she'd heard in there in a long time. I didn't think it was funny at all, surely that couple thousand dollars we just paid them covered any necessary ass wiping, wouldn't you think? Much to my relief, the nurse assured me he was quite capable of wiping his own ass. And with out further ado, ROM got dressed and we were soon on our way back home.
As for the post procedure gassy deflation process, I was spared that since ROM ate a bagel and went directly to bed where he spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping off the drugs. And another adventure is now behind us....