After all the prep and the consequences of the prep, I don't even feel hungry. It's not that I wouldn't welcome a plate of pancakes; I'm just not dying to have food like I thought I would be.
The food thing was getting into my head all morning yesterday. I had a big plate of eggs and toast, but even an hour after eating, I started obsessing about the fact that I wouldn't be able to consume solid food for 24 hours. "When am I gonna get hungry?" "Am I getting hungry now, even a little bit?" "Is that a hunger pang?" "Geez, I know I'm gonna get hungry, and it's gonna suck."
Yes, people go through much worse every day. It's a hard life being pampered and comfortable, and then being asked to be marginally uncomfortable for a short period of time.
The prep was unpleasant, but not particularly painful. Believe me, I've had worse episodes after wolfing down a Baja Burrito.
I was up only a couple times during the night. Long-lasting effects of the medication, indeed. Without diving into too much detail -- "Why stop now, Bob?" -- let's just say I'm not worried anymore about not being properly prepped.
We leave for the hospital in one hour, the procedure is scheduled in two. I'm hesitant to take my laptop there for continued updates because I'm afraid I'll leave the darn thing there when I come stumbling out of the joint once this is done. I know they have wi-fi because I liveblogged from David's birth six months ago, so the option is open. I think this is gonna be a gametime decision.
Stay tuned.
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