Thursday

And what do you do every ten years, without fail? Attend a family reunion? Paint your home? Buy a new car? Go to Disney World? Wash the curtains? We do none of that. What we do sign up for, every ten years, is a colonoscopy. Mine was scheduled for today.

Anyone who has had this procedure, will immediately sympathize with me on the days leading up to it. Except if you live in Florida. It's totally not fair because people in Florida don't have to drink gallons of crap, they can just pop pills. Almost reason enough to move to that state, don't you think? Drinking gallons of crap is just no fun. Each time, I try to make it tolerable if not delightful by thinking up new ways of diluting the bottles upon bottles of ominous looking powder in interesting beverages. Each time, I fail. The powder  seems to thicken everything to the consistency of watered down jello. This year I went for peach water (organic!) and apple juice and at the last minute I added cucumber lime smart water. 

I will never again drink peach water (organic!), apple juice, or cucumber lime smart water with any amount of pleasure.

I had put off purchasing all these containers of powder, though I did splurge and get from Amazon some mango-flavored gatorade. It looked so gross, that I immediately put the whole carton of bottles in the mudroom. We'll give it away with free rhubarb this weekend. So out came the peach water (organic!), apple juice, and cucumber lime smart water.

When I did dash over to Walgreens to get the last of the needed prep stuff, I was told that it had just been recalled. Nationwide. But, no problem, the docs tell me. Just double the amount of other crap you're to drink. So, more cucumber lime smart water went into my basket.

All that was yesterday. This morning I was good to go and Ed and I set out for the clinic.

The people in the UW Digestive Health Sciences are really pleasant and very chipper. They make great small talk: I had a spirited conversation with one of the nurses as to whether or not it's good idea to keep your married name when you get a divorce. She also wanted me to help her with her basil-growing project (it was a bust this year), but I found this to be too challenging for bedside conversation. Still, she was delightful.

As was my doc. From what I remember. You tend to blank on much of what happens after the procedure. That's okay, Ed was there and he listened carefully for me, at least he listened when he was not having a Zoom call with his machinist engineer colleague in the bathroom so as not to disturb the docs and nurses coming in and out of my room. Every time he got up to move back to my room the toilet flushed automatically. I wondered what his engineer colleague must have been thinking.

We had a bit of a wait before the procedure because my doc found a problem in someone else's gut. I heard the word cancer, so of course, I wasn't going to complain about lying in my own little room (with Ed in the bathroom) under a warm blanket, pretending I was already sedated and enjoying the beep from the machine next to me that informed the world when my heart beat much too fast or far too slow. It seemed to do one or the other fairly regularly. I was given a very plausible explanation for this -- machines beep when you move. Okay. I tested that theory by snuggling comfortably under a toasty warm blankie. The machine settled down.

And finally it was my turn for the procedure. I always love the moment they start pumping you with relaxing sedatives. It's a good thing I never was into drugs. The stuff is positively intoxication, though I can see how you wouldn't get much done in life if you were constantly floating through the heavens admiring rainbows and soaring with swallow. Reality is much more prosaic, but at least it allows you to get on with things.

So all this took up maybe three or four hours of the day, but believe it or not, I managed to put in a solid two hours before heading to the clinic for lily snipping. Sure, it was on a very empty stomach, but lilies don't mind. They'll take your gentle touch no matter what the state of your insides.

Oh and lest I thought we were on a downward plunge in terms of flower count, today proved me wrong: 643 lily heads in the bucket, which is the second highest of the year. I don't really get why we had this uptick, but I snipped away and took some photos with my lesser camera because, you know, my main one is off off and away, hopefully in New Jersey by now. (Have you noticed how just about all camera repair places are in New Jersey? It's the kind of thing I puzzle over when I snip lilies.)

Today's beauties:

(Bold Beatrice cleans herself on the stump. Hmmm... come to think of it, I only think it's Bold Beatrice because this hen is bold. But, might another one be also bold? I cannot tell these girls apart!!)

(not all my lies are pink or orange or yellow...)

(though many are... and they all work so well together!)

Of course, there was no early breakfast. I'm no martyr: if I can't eat or drink, Ed can fix his own meal (though last night he dutifully sipped mushroom broth with me in the evening rather than looking for something to make for himself). 

And in the afternoon? When we finally get home? Ah! I'm told that we then ate a morning meal. But I have no recollection of it, nor did I remember to take a photo.

Because it is a most stunning day (cool, sunny, perfect), I stay out in the porch. Mainly I doze, enjoying the after glow of whatever they had given me to transform my brain into delightful mush.

But by 3:30 I am awake and Ed and I set out for out local farmers market.  Me for the flowers and the last of the blueberries. 

(Take a photo? If it's with the motorcycle... Okay!)

Ed's here for the cheese from Farmer John and the tortillas from... the tortilla guy!

I was a little concerned that I might topple off of Ed's motorbike going there and back, what with my wobbly limbs and mushy brain, but leaning into him on this most gorgeous July day was so wonderful that I soon forgot to worry. 

At home, I can once again eat anything I want. Well, they warn you that alcohol will make you drowsy (what's wrong with that, I want to know?), and fried food may make you feel sick (this would be true at any time of the day or year), but I have mushrooms and cheeper eggs and asparagus and cheeses saved up for my reentry into the world of regular supper food. And salad fixings. And they all taste wonderful, all the more so because we once again eat outside. 

And the flowers keep on blooming and the sun shines like it's making up for lost (spring) time!

It's a good day to be here at the farmette! A really good day.

Evening: Ed, that cat on the couch? Yeah... It's not one of ours, is it? No....

Well now... Okay... So who is he?

I don't know.

With love...