Journey to the Center of the Earth

With apologies to famed author Jules Verne (but none to Brendan Fraser who starred in the remake of the film by the same name of Verne's book. Because Brendan Fraser), I'm going to recount my own "Journey to the Center of the Earth" from earlier this week. How did I get there, you ask? Well, if I'm honest, I didn't. Instead, I had my first colonoscopy and this seemed like an apt euphemism.

If you don't follow me on the Facebook or the Twitter, you would have missed the fact that I was embarking on this adventure (thanks for that little belated gift, 50th birthday). Because I have a particularly low shame threshold, I either posted or live tweeted as much of the shenanigans as I could. There was a reason for that, I promise, and I'll get to that.

That said, I'm going to cut to the chase. The procedure itself, having "a camera inserted into your rectum" as my 12 year old doctor (seriously...he was the Indian version of 'Doogie Howser' - I have suits in my closet that are older than him) reminded me as I was splayed out in the prep room, was an absolute breeze. Primarily because of the delightful dose of Michael Jackson's favorite sleepy time med, Propofol. Once I was wheeled into the procedure room and I was splayed out differently (on my left side - apparently that's the appropriate angle of attack), the nurse anesthetist said to me, "Ready for a nap?" and like that, I was out. I was so out that I didn't mind in the least that I was being bored like an oil drill fracking the Oklahoma countryside. Before I knew it, I was in Recovery asking the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML how long she'd been there. I asked her this repeatedly. It was then that the attending nurse said I'd been very funny as I came out of the Jackson Juice haze. This concerns me for a host of reasons. After a post-procedure snack of water and a blueberry protein bar (nothing but the best at this facility), I walked out and since I'd not eaten in nearly 40 hours, we went to lunch. That was it. Seriously.

The procedure really was a breeze. What was awful was the prep and by prep, I mean Suprep. Created in the darkest bowel (pun absolutely intended) of Satan's Pharmacy on the Seventh Ring of Hell, this two bottle solution of the foulest tasting concoction is meant to clean out your tender colon faster than a drug-fueled all you can eat binge on Jack In The Box tacos. Marketed as "berry flavored," the clear translucent liquid cleverly hides its foulness. Let me be clear that it is not berry flavored. It is berry scented and this difference, as our mentally unstable, pathologically allergic to honesty President Elect would say, is "yuge!"The Berry Council, if there is such a thing, should sue for defamation of character because this stuff is as noxious as it gets. To call it gross is an offense to things that are really gross (the cast of "The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" come to mind). I managed to choke down the first dose without much of a fight and then I waited for the output. Within an hour, the output burst forth like a firehose gushing wildly with no ability to turn it off. As a result, this was my view for more time than I'd like to admit:

After more of this than I care to recall, it was time for round two of Satan's cocktail. This one was rough. It took me more than ten minutes to choke it down. I chased each gritty, heinous sip with a generous gulp of water and two different flavors of Gatorade. I may or may not have shed a tear during this process as well. I need to point out that my son, who had to go through this experience in a 'clinic' in southern Mexico, was laughing riotously the whole time. Honestly, I can't imagine what he went through so I'm glad he could laugh at mine. Anyway, with round two barely down, its desired effects went into overdrive. It was past 10PM and I was terrified to go to sleep because given the speed with which this crap (again, pun intended) works, the likelihood of an in-bed tragedy was too high, so I stayed awake as long as I could. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML was literally lying next to a ticking time bomb and I, as the bomb, knew that, so sleep didn't come easily to either of us, once I decided the coast was clear for the upcoming journey to the center of the earth.

That journey, for me, yielded an excellent result. A clean bill of health for my colon was declared by the doctor (BONUS - this means none of that Suprep garbage for another five years!). It was good to know. As I read up in advance of the procedure, I learned that colon cancer ranks in the top three of cancer killers but it is one of the most preventable. It was then that I decided I would share as much of the process as I could; hence, the posts and Tweets. You'll be glad to now that my wife snatched my phone out of my hands as I was led away by some nurses to get prepped because she has a great deal more good sense than I. Yes, the prep is really a suckfest but the procedure is a snap. For those of you that have been afraid to get this done, DO IT! Get screened. In the rear end, you'll be glad you did.

To learn more about colon cancer and prevention, check out either of these two organizations:
Colon Cancer Alliance
Stop Colon Cancer Now

Healthy Service

Farmer TMFKATB

The good people at British Airways have a motto to which they strive to adhere: To fly, to serve

I think missionaries like TMFKATB might play on that motto slightly: To work, to teach, to serve

In this week's letter, he talked a little about the opportunities for service that arose during the week. He seemed pretty excited about the chance to do "lots of service!" This led him to lament that he was pretty sore as a result. He and his companion tackled some junk-filled yards that, in by his observation, were allowed to junk up specifically for this missionaries to clean up. I'm not buying that but he talked about the fun they had helping the people with whom they are working. The best part of it was when he said, "I am feeling healthy and strong again."

That, my friends, was music to our ears. Healthy and strong and finding joy in service, even if it was clearing the detritus someone had let build up in their yard. There really is joy in getting outside and doing something for someone else. There's no thanks required or needed. The thanks comes in the feeling you get when doing right by or for someone else. It's a really good feeling. The more you serve, the better you feel. That's the beauty of it.

Contrasts

A little different look than last week's hospital bed 

After last week's 'View from a Clinica Bed' update, we were, once again, anxiously awaiting TMFKATB's Monday missive. It dawned on me that, thanks to the switch to Daylight Savings' over the weekend, he is now two hours behind us and we'd hear from him an hour later. Well, that proved to be true. It was an hour later than normal once his letter arrived and it was worth the wait. To say that it was a study in contrasts from last week would be understating it. He kicked it off by saying, "so this was an awesome week." And with that you may have heard the sigh of relief that the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML let out simultaneously. It may or may not have knocked down one of our trees. Clearly whatever he was given during his stay in the clinica did the trick. He reported that health-wise he'd had a great week. He also shared several stories of how he saw his faith building and seeing the rewards that come from working hard on behalf of others. He got to see some people he'd taught previously and had a sweet reunion with them. He made his way into what he called "Jurassic Park" to meet with some other people.

I marvel at the experiences he is having. We can see him changing and growing in ways that will benefit him the rest of his life. Over the years here in the Den, I've shared proof of how everything TMFKATB touches turns to gold. Everything. It hasn't been that way for him in Mexico. He's learned, and will continue to learn, that life can be a series of surprises, good and bad, wanted and unwanted, and that how you react to them defines who you are.

"Entering Jurassic Park"

It's a privilege to get to watch this. As parents, you try and prepare your children for all that life may throw at them. I've realized that's just not possible. I'm glad he's learning what he is in this most unique environment that he finds himself in now. He's where he is for a reason - well, lots of them. It's all good.

A quick note of thanks to all who checked in with us after seeing the picture of him in the clinica last week. He continues to mention that he feels the power of prayer. And so do we. Thank you, friends.

Getting clinical

From inside the Linda Blair Memorial Ward

So TMFKATB has never been one to understate a situation but he may have done so with the first line of this week's letter. He had titled his email 'weird week' which was a bit of a hint. "So this week was rather strange" was the first sentence. He then began to explain why it was strange and weird. Thanks to a resurgent bout of chikungunya, he spiked a nasty fever and was racked with pain. He wound up at a 'clinic' for two days, being pumped full of, well, who knows what. It apparently worked because he went on to detail how he was feeling better and looking forward to a full week of work and as he put it, 'miracles' this week.

So, suffice to say, this week's letter was a little unsettling for us. As you can see from the picture he sent, some one really needs to talk to the folks that painted the interior of the clinic. Apparently they took their inspiration from Linda Blair's pea soup cavalcade of vomit from "The Exorcist." There's nothing soothing about those walls. I'm still trying to figure out what the big tank is next to his bed. Helium? Oxygen? Salsa? I don't even know and maybe it's best to not know. I'm just grateful that whatever the doctors did, it seemed to do the trick. He's better.

I will never lament medical care in the US again. Ever. Last year when my gall bladder decided that it no longer wanted to reside within me in the angriest ways possible, I spent two days at a teaching hospital. Some of our friends acted as if I'd gone to JoJo's Casa Of Chicken, Oil Changes and General Surgery when they learned that's where I'd opted to have my surgery. It may not have been the fanciest of hospitals but I had outstanding care from the 600 residents that paraded through my room every 42 seconds. I look at that picture my boy sent and I'm just grateful for the doctors and nurses who did their best caring for him with what the limited resources that they had. To say that we have it so well medically in this country is a massive understatement, in spite of what Fox News says.

The good news is that he was positive throughout his letter and his sense of humor is fervently in place. That made us feel a lot better. He assured us that he's feeling a whole lot better. He had to be if he was able to wax poetic about this meal:

tacos bistec y guacamole

He's gained a wicked appreciation for the hand-made foods of southern Mexico. Seems to me that a meal like that could cure of you pretty much anything. Seriously, is there nothing a taco can't solve?