This morning I woke up with a sense of dread. This afternoon I am obligated to force some 32 pills down my throat over a period of about one hour in order to begin the process of cleansing my colon. Then later in the evening I have to do it all over again albeit with about half the number of pills. As I write this, I can only speculate about how I will be effected, how long I will be doubled over with pain as my colon empties not once but twice. Of course, I waited until the very last minute to read the pharmacy blurb that comes with prescriptions as I recounted in an earlier post. I am happy to report that the matter has been settled and that a replacement was found and that is that. It still took an additional phone call to the urologists office to get things settled. I really dislike dealing with bureaucracies of any sort.
Of course, I must still anticipate a phone call from the hospital telling me when to arrive tomorrow. I am hoping for an early morning appointment with the DaVinci robot but there is simply no guarantee as to when I will be scheduled.
I am finding it very difficult to stay focused. I want to read a bit today but I can’t get through more than one or two pages when my mind begins to wander off into somewhere where I choose not to be. The simple truth is that I am completely stressed out just waiting around.
Now I can be quite manic about this condition by acknowledging the situation as being rather abnormal and let it consume me. Or, on the other hand, I can choose to simply stoically accept that once in a while chaos creeps into one’s head and it simply won’t go away so embrace it and let it be. The simple truth is that, while I have had surgeries in the past, each one presents a set of unknowns that cannot be accounted for. I think the worst of those conditions is the interminable waiting within a space that is anything but proximate. There is a scientific distancing separating the patient from those servicing the patient in order for the staff and surgeons to maintain a professional distance yet it is precisely that distance that makes the waiting feel unnatural.
Waiting in proximate space is not at all stressful. Waiting for the other to respond to that announcement of “Here I Am!” is quite different than waiting for a call to be somewhere of bureaucratic choosing. The former is a space created by the self in anticipation of being of service while the latter is a space created by separation leading to the anticipation of simply waiting as if in free fall. Proximity is created by the former while distance is created by the latter.
So here is what I decided to do. I am going to take a nap, sleep until it is time to stuff those poop pills down my throat with gallons of water and then, tonight when I finish round two, go back to sleep until it is time to get up to go to the hospital. It is a simple solution with very few drawbacks. At least I won’t have to think about the distance.