“Is that normal?”
“…”
“…”
“Oh! Do you mean my heart rate?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“I’m a runner.”
At this point the nurse anesthetist has started to push the plunger on the large cc syringe containing the milky white Propofol into my IV.
“Do you have any races coming up?”
“Nothing on the calendar but I ran the Boston Marathon a few weeks ago.”
“That’s fantastic. How did you do? What was your time?”
“Two fifty five”
Those were the last words that came out of my mouth. I’d already lined up my questions for her in my head because it sounded like she might’ve been a runner and we could’ve had ourselves a little conversation before it was lights out for yours truly. But it was already lights out for yours truly.
That’s the summary of my first colonoscopy experience.
Apparantly, aside from me being a lightweight anasthesia partier, everything went great. Clean colonoscopy. No abnormalities. No polyps. And I don’t have to get another colonoscopy for 10 years. And that’s a good thing because the “prep” for a colonoscopy is a shitty experience. Pun intended.
