Seems like we've been at one hospital or another most of the week. Two hours up at the Croix Rousse this morning, learning about what's likely to happen when the big day finally arrives. Yesterday we were there for even longer - 3 hours in the morning, for the weekly checkup, then another hour in the afternoon for another scan. La bienheureuse's blood pressure is still on the high side, but the cause is still apparently in fine form. Estimated weight now 3.2kg and still growing. Doctor and midwife both suggested the sooner the big entrance the better…
Monday it was ma bien-aimée's turn lend support while I was poked and prodded. There follows a detailed description of exactly what undergoing a colonoscopy involves. The squeamish should look away now…
C-day minus 5
start low-fibre diet. No fruit and veg, no food with roughage for the next 5 day.
C-day minus 1
1900: ingest first dose of laxative; lemon-flavoured, reasonably palatable.
2000: enjoy last (supposedly light) supper - grilled chicken and mash. Overdo helping size somewhat to compensate for it being the only food for the next 24 hours.
2000 - bedtime: imbibe at least a litre and a half of clear fluid.
2200: first ominous rumblings within heard.
2230: visit toilet and experience something akin to an inverted version of a famous geyser in Yellowstone Park.
2230 onwards: Old Faithful erupts on average once every 66 minutes. I experience intervals more irregular but not much longer on average. Consistency of ejecta becomes more and more liquid. Manage to get some sleep in between trips to the toilet.
C-day
0700: ingest second dose of laxative.
0700 - 0930: imbibe at least a litre and a half of clear fluid.
1030: rear end eruptions finally cease.
1245: we arrive at the hospital and are directed to the 3rd floor where we wait 15 minutes before someone in the reception area deigns to see me. Short interview - told we're on the wrong floor.
1300: arrive in the correct reception area. Another wait in an orderly queue before admission formalities are swiftly carried out. Directed to another waiting area just across the corridor. There we wait, and wait. One by one, the other patients are taken away to their rooms, and then wheeled away to the operating theatre in turn. Finally, there's just me left. Last in the queue to have a camera inserted up my rear end, due to having gone to the wrong place to start with. Should have read the bumph properly and not relied on a witless ground floor receptionist.
1515: finally shown to my room, where ambivalence about the colour of my last squirt (yellow or brown? Wasn't sure how to say light brownish-yellow in French) results in me having to self-administer a small enema so that the nurse can verify the state of my excrement (yellow and entirely liquid, in case anyone is interested).
1545: wheeled away to the operating theatre by a chatty orderly. La bienheureuse finally leaves my side and goes to get something to eat and do a bit of shopping.
1600: anaesthetic (described as a strong sedative) sends me to sleep in seconds.
1640: wake up in the recovery room feeling fine apart from a grossly inflated abdomen. Nothing a bit of enthusiastic farting can't solve. And for once I didn't feel the need to apologise.
1700: duty anaesthetist deems vital signs sufficiently normal for me to be wheeled back to my own room. La bienheureuse returns a minute or two later.
1715: food! Only bread & cheese and a yoghurt, but it tastes lovely.
1730: doctor pays me a visit. Hallelujah! He's smiling. My colon is clear of polyps and he compliments me on its pre-operation cleanliness.
1830: I'm finally let out.
1930: home and enjoying my first full meal in 24 hours, and first fruit and veg in nearly a week.
C-day plus 2
first satisfactory bowel movement in 72 hours finally arrives. Only another 5 years before I have to go through it all again.
