Doctor, my butt hurts

After a month of suffering pain from what I assumed was hemorrhoids I decided to go to the doctor. Of course you can't get in to see the doctor, you have to see a nurse practitioner.
This nurse practitioner scolded me for not coming to the doctor when I was feeling well, and came very close to accusing me of getting prescriptions from various doctors. Then she diagnosed me with an internal hemorrhoid. She referred me to a surgeon.
At the surgeon's office I had the most painful examination in the world. And the surgeon told me that what I did have was a fissure. This would be repaired with surgery called a sphincterotemy. They cut your sphincter muscle, and stitch it back up. This was to be accompanied by a colonoscopy. Yippee.
The day before the procedure I was allowed to have one boiled egg before 8 a.m. and then only broths, clear liquids, and Jell-O (but not red or purple) for the rest of the day. At 4 p.m. you begin the clearing out of your colon. First you take 2 laxative pills. Then an hour later you begin drinking your 2 litre bottle of halflytely. 3 glasses in I threw up. It took me most of the night to drink nearly all of the jug. I went to bed, and at 1 a.m. woke up with a rather alarming heart beat. It was beating irregularly, and fast. I couldn't count it. At 2 a.m. I woke up my husband and off to the ER we went.
200 beats per minute is what they clocked me at. And after three separate IV drugs, and 2 oral drugs, at 7 a.m. my heart rate was still 145. The cardiologist called and immediately my heart rate dropped to 88. And normal. So now they decide to continue with my surgery. They discharged me from ER and wheeled me to the outpatient surgery and slapped me onto another bed.
I can honestly say I will never ever do prep for a colonoscopy again, so it's a good thing they did it that way.
I can also say my butt no longer hurts.
And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to go back to the nurse practitioner for anything ever again.
In the meantime I'm only one quilt block behind.

Woman leaves kids in car, goes to bars

I just read this headline in the local paper and I laughed out loud. Seriously. This is news? I was that kid. Of course I was a teenageer at the time. My mother passed away when I was 11. My sister and her new husband moved in to look after me. My father wasn't really capable or so inclined. He worked in the woods, which required being away from home quite a bit. And when he was home, he was eating at restaurants, and chasing women. Okay, maybe I am exagerating a little - he wasn't really chasing women. But he did always have a girlfriend and that is where he preferred to be. So my sister and her dysfunctional husband moved in. Nan was an alcoholic. At first she was functional. She only drank on the weekends. But as time moved on she drank more and more. One evening she was in charge of my nephew and I. He was only a couple of years younger than I was (I failed to mention that I was born 20 years after the rest of the siblings). She took us to a pizza parlor, ordered us a pizza, gave us some money to play pool and left us. Finally hours later we decided to go home. So we started walking. Wouldn't you know it - Nan drove by, stopped, scolded us and picked us up. She parked around the corner from one of the hot spots and said, "wait here". Off she went into the bar leaving us to sit and ponder what next. We sat and sat and finally when we were trying to decide what to do, we saw her come out with 2 men. Imagine the disbelief and shock as we watched these guys toss her around and then finally into the cab of the pick up and off they went.
Well, the rest of the story is no better - we decided to drive the pick up home where we had to explain to her husband why she wasn't with us.
Looking back, and as I write this, I realize that she wasn't in the best condition - she was drunk. Those men weren't friendly - they tossed her up on the hood of the pick up and at this moment I'm not even sure she went with them willingly. And I witnessed it.
I feel like a kid all over again.