Colonoscopies R Us

Today was a challenging day. Rocket Boy had a colonoscopy. In Lancaster.

I have heard that they do colonoscopies at the Ridgecrest hospital, but Rocket Boy's doctor doesn't do colonoscopies there, he does them at his special colonoscopy warehouse in Lancaster. Colonoscopies R Us it's called, something like that.

What this meant was that I spent the morning keeping the twins out of Rocket Boy's way (because he was so weak and hungry from the "preparations"), then dropped the twins off at daycare at 11:30, got gas, and rushed home. Rocket Boy and I left for Lancaster at 12 noon sharp. His appointment was for 1:45 and it normally takes about 90 minutes to get to Lancaster, but I drove like a bat out of hell, just in case there was a traffic problem somewhere along the way or Rocket Boy needed to stop to use the facilities (at the Carl's Jr in Mojave or perhaps behind a creosote bush), so we got there early, at 1:15. But better early than late.

The waiting room had several rows of chairs, all lined up facing an enormous TV set which was showing a program called "Divorce Court." Many of the chairs were taken. Rocket Boy checked in and then we went to sit in the one little row of chairs facing AWAY from the TV (but you could still hear it). While attempting NOT to listen to a black lesbian couple try to get divorced, I read an article in a copy of the Atlantic that I'd brought with me about how 90% of all medical research is bogus and wrong. That was reassuring.

Rocket Boy was called in around 2 pm, so a bit late, which made me nervous, because of course when he was done we'd have to drive like bats out of hell BACK to Ridgecrest to pick up the twins from daycare before it closed at 6 pm. But what can you do. I set down the magazine and picked up my current book, which is about birds.

It was hard to concentrate on the bird book with the obnoxious TV program roaring along behind me, and my mind started to wander. On the way to Lancaster, Rocket Boy had confessed to me that the reason for the colonoscopy was not his age, but rather some "symptoms" he'd been having. Uh oh.

Always the optimist, I began to think of how our lives would change after he was diagnosed with colon cancer.

Probably all his appointments for chemo and whatever would be in Lancaster and I would have to drive him there constantly. The twins would have to go to daycare fulltime so that I'd have time to do all that driving.

I would try to get him to write his Life Story, so that he could leave that legacy for the twins.

After he died, the twins and I would move back to Boulder and live in our house again. I probably wouldn't be able to find a job, so we would have to sell a property. The most logical one would be the cabin in the mountains, which has a lot of land associated with it. I wouldn't have a clue how to take care of that land after Rocket Boy is gone. I'd have to sell it. But Clifford left us that land. If I sold it, I really ought to give all his nieces and nephews some of the money. I decided I'd give each of them, and each of their kids, $13,000 each, or whatever the maximum gift amount is now. But then there wouldn't be much money left, so the twins and I would be broke again.

I was mulling over that problem when I heard the nurse call my name. It was 3:30 and Rocket Boy was done already -- in an hour and a half? I went out to move my car over to where they bring patients out in wheelchairs. Rocket Boy was in good spirits when they brought him out and he told me they didn't find a single thing wrong with him.

We stopped at the Carl's Jr in Mojave for milkshakes and as we drove on, sipping, I told Rocket Boy about my worries and plans for after his demise. "You always look on the bright side, don't you?" he said, and I had to agree.

The twins are fed and in bed, the Giants won Game 2 of the World Series, I've been to the grocery store, Rocket Boy has gone to bed, and honestly, I should sew but I'm thinking maybe bed is a good idea for me too. It's been quite a day.