As the saying goes, "no good deed goes unpunished," and this is
especially true if your good deed is allowing someone to run a periscope up your rear end just to help them add a few new specimens to their polyp collection.
But such was the case yesterday when Mrs. Jarlsberg went in for a colonoscopy, which is usually no big deal apart from the rectal fireworks involved in the "prep" for the procedure. Notice that the key word in that sentence was "usually," which should have been your foreshadowing that things did
not go spiffingly for Mrs. J.
Apparently, due to an unusual occurrence that happens "only once or twice a year" according to a medical professional in a crisp white uniform who absolutely, positively wasn't just trying to fend off a lawsuit, while knocked cold for the procedure Mrs. J developed a case of upchuck-itis and thus aspirated nasty body fluids directly into her lungs. Which is why, only hours after returning home, she was having bone-wracking chills and spiking a fever. An eventuality which, according to a piece of paper we'd been given (it proved impossible to actually speak to a human on the doctor's staff), meant you should
head to the emergency room with all due haste.
To make an incredibly long story slightly shorter, in the ER she was diagnosed with pneumonia, plugged into various bags of fluid, and checked in to the hospital for a 24 hour observation. And it's worth mentioning before she say anything else that she's doing well, and there's currently no reason to think she won't be coming home to castle Jarlsberg today (Friday). Yay!
Of course, we don't want to make the story
so short that we can't pause to complain about how
mind-numbingly slow the process of being admitted to the hospital is. Apparently the drill consists of speaking to someone in scrubs and giving them your entire life history and medical history, then telling them why you're in their Emergency Room. Upon completion of this process, a different person takes the place of the first, and asks
all the same questions. This repeats approximately five times, which
really ceases to be amusing when you're feeling like crap, after which you get to speak to an actual doctor. Albeit one with a nearly indecipherable third world accent.
Among the questions repeatedly asked:
• Are you a smoker? Have you ever smoked? Have you been
around smokers?
• Do you prefer to learn by reading or listening? (We
swear this is a real question)
• Do you use recreational drugs? (No, silly, we
abuse recreational drugs)
• Is there any chance, Mrs. AARP Medicare Insurance, that you're
pregnant? (In fairness, the nurse probably only asked this because of your narrator's obvious testosterone-drenched masculinity.)
Surprisingly, we were
not asked whether we heard "Laurel" or "Yanny," although if we
had been we would have answered "Laurel, and anyone who says otherwise is full of sh*t."
Soooo, it's been a long and pretty crappy day. Mrs. J will surely be fine (she's the strong one in this family), but all positive thoughts, prayers, and good vibes are much appreciated. As will be any generous cash donations to organizations which oppose butt exploration.
Also,
please don't tell her we wrote an entire blog post about her colonoscopy. She'll
kill us when she gets home - but we'll die with a relieved smile on our face.
BY THE WAY...
