Rumblings

After a small and healthy dinner last night, well, okay, a grilled chicken breast, carrots and broccoli, and a salad, not in that order, and I didn't eat any of the tomatoes in the salad, I went on the clear liquid diet plan. So, just drank juice in the evening. White cranberry.

I didn't sleep well last night. Maybe I am worried about the surgery. Maybe I'm worried about school. Anyway, I slept some, and got up around 7 this morning. I had a cup of chicken broth for breakfast. I went to school, and I had no lunch. I wasn't really very hungry. Another sign of nerves.

I got a few things together for my class today, and I checked the lab and email and puttered around to pass the time before lecture. I gave the lecture, even though I won't be there for the class for at least a couple of weeks. I told the students that. I didn't say why I wouldn't be there. I said I had something I had to deal with. I don't know how long I will be out. There is another faculty member with a planned surgery, a partial colectomy I think. Hers is in late April. She was told she would be out 5-6 weeks. Maybe I'm being optimistic, saying I might be back by Week 4. I don't know.

I had a few drinks of water at work. I drink from the drinking fountain. Some of the students, after they take microbiology, won't touch the fountain, but I'm not afraid of it. Besides, bottled water is not a sound environmental practice.

I started my final prep, SuPrep, when I got home. It was hard to get the whole pint of stuff down, and I keep getting these sort of waves of shudders when I think about it. I did drink the two pints of water after. My tummy is rumbling. A lot. I've visited the toilet three times, so far. I'm not sure when I should drink the second batch. I'm not supposed to have anything by mouth after about midnight, and I don't really want to stay up all night emptying my bowel. Maybe I'll do the second batch around 9.

I seem to be walking through this with a sense of fatalism. Maybe I'm just confident in my doctor. Maybe I don't care if I die. Maybe I just do what I'm told, because I know the polyp needs to go, and there's no sense in worrying over what might happen. It might not happen, too, and everything will be fine. And by tomorrow evening, I'll be ambling down the hall with a pillow pressed over my tummy, and taking a few deep breaths. Meanwhile, there's got to be something to see on NetFlix.