Not-eating orders worst part of test
I am sure that many have seen the television advertisement with a man telling how easy it is to get through a “suggested every 10 years” colonoscopy screening.
I don’t know how many people rushed out to get an appointment for this, but it is a safeguard in keeping healthy. And that is what we all planned to do at the start of the new year, didn’t we?
Last week was my turn for the once-again procedure. How did 10 years go by so quickly anyhow?
The not-eating orders are perhaps the worst part for me. When I got up on the morning before the colonoscopy and endoscopy, I realized that breakfast would be a bowl of green Jell-O and two popsicles, and not even my favorite cherry ones, and I got very distressed. Then it was on to clear chicken broth and more of the perky, green gelatin that quivered each time I dipped in the spoon for a bite for my lunch. By 5 p.m., I even forgot about the popsicles and diet 7-Up.
That was when the Gatorade and Miralax marathon began. I had until 10 p.m. to down 64 ounces of the drink that I never did enjoy. But I needed to sip it slowly because I tried to get rid of it at a faster rate of speed 10 years ago, and it protested by coming back up. And that is not good when the potion is supposed to remain in your stomach to do its work. As the man in the ad says, “Go to the john a few times,” but that is man’s talk for making sure that there is no one even near the bathroom for the next six or seven hours.
You get loads of exercise dashing for that little room at top speed. Once, I encountered Ozzie who felt it was his turn to go for a potty break as I had done it so many times already. But he learned in an instant that it was not going to happen at that precise time.
When we got up the next morning to prepare for the visit to the Trinity Digestive and Nutrition Center for the procedures by 6:45 a.m., our township roads were heavily covered with snow, and I started to get antsi. We left about 15 minutes sooner than the early time we would have departed as Lamont believes that you never leave anyone waiting and is always very early. Thank goodness, as soon as we got to state Route 151, the roads were clear.
I had smacked my Moms Mabley hat, as Mark Fristick called it at a past Apple Festival, on my head because I thought we might slide off the road and would have to sit in the car until help came along. That did not happen, but I did have a terrible case of hat hair when I got to the center and removed my hat. Does the name Phyllis Diller conjure up any images?
So I sat and worried about how my hair looked up until the time I was called into the patient preparation room. And who would care? I laid on a bed covered up to the chin and was attended to by a wonderful crew of medical people. And if crew is the wrong word, to use, please forgive me.
I got to see how they worked as I was the third one to go to “THE ROOM.” And the staff went about their tasks like a well-oiled machine and were are all so very friendly.
I was on my way out into the cold air within two hours, and we stopped for a Belgian waffle before departing for Smithfield. I just couldn’t go another minute without solid food in my stomach.
At home, Ozzie and I crawled into bed, and I slept until 2:15 p.m. in the afternoon.
So as the ad said, it is easy. That is if you can make do on popsicles, Jell-O and chicken broth for about 24 hours.
Do you still have any type of Christmas decoration hanging around in your home? You know, like something you had neglected to put away when the tree and all the ornaments came down and went to the basement?
We still have a wreath that Dawna Kale made for me with a silver bow, white lights and some red balls. I added a cute, little, stuffed snowman to the wreath to take away the “Christmasey” look, and it is still over the fireplace. And it will be there until we can find the picture that usually hangs there.
We do this every year with household items or pictures that are removed to put out something with a holiday look. It is put in an area where we would be sure to find it, and guess what? It isn’t found until spring cleaning takes place.
It has been a year, and I still can’t find a portrait taken of Lamont, Ozzie and me that I removed from its frame to put out a holiday picture of the grandkids.
Why I did not put the Christmas picture over the McCoys I do not know. But I didn’t, and the picture has never shown up. I think Ozzie hid it. He really didn’t want to sit for the photographer in the first place.
Speaking of a Christmas decoration that gets overlooked, I took Ozzie out after dark one recent evening and walked past the dining room where the lights were lit. It was then that I noticed a stained glass Santa Claus still plastered to the window by one of those suction cups. It was partially hidden behind the Venetian blinds, athough I’m not sure they are still called by that name. Am I wrong, Betty Westling? She would know as she was my decorator.
In driving to work along state Route 151, I keep noticing a 2- or 3-foot Santa Claus in the yard where the porch forms a corner. It can’t be seen from the porch and maybe they do not realize that it is still there. Much like me with the window decoration.
I spent an interesting morning and into the afternoon with Virginia and Kurt Glenn last week when we went to the Department of Transportation office in Wintersville and visited Scott Fabian, Jefferson County Engineer’s Department safety supervisor. This was in regards to the Morgan’s Raiders Heritage Trail signs that will be springing up in 80 locations in the county soon.
It will be 150 years since the Kentucky brigadier general by the name of John Hunt Morgan made his ride through Ohio starting in early July 1863 and then was captured July 26 when a white flag was waved to designate surrender.
Virginia is making a thorough study of the raid and is interested in holding a Nebo Commemoration in Bergholz. Actually, Nebo is the former name of Bergholz. She needs interested volunteers to help carry out the commemoration, just as the Mooretown event was staged in the past year with great success.
Scott had us climb up the open, wrought-iron steps to the platform where all the signs for the Morgan’s Raid Trail – 80 in all – were stored.
I went up very fast as I don’t like looking down and seeing the ground below me. So, no matter how crippled up I feel for the day, I will attack those steps in a big hurry. Virginia commented that I took those stairs much faster than she. She can toss hay bales around like they were a 10-pound bag of groceries, but I can’t do that, though.
I was impressed with the Smithfield kiosk that tells about a bragging Gen. Collins who told the combined band of 40 very young and very old men that he was fearless in battle and would do the leading when they went out to meet Morgan’s group who were coming into town.
They were captured and Collins was put ahead of the men, on a mule no less, and had to shout that they were Hobson’s men, the good guys, and to feed them and treat them well. He was quite embarrassed when Morgan’s crew left, and Hobson came rambling in for a good meal.
Each of the other six kiosks tell a tale of something that happened in the town where one of the 36-by-24-inch signs will be located.
I was interested in the Smithfield and DeYarmonville kiosks as they are in my vicinity. It has been told that the raiders rode through the fields later owned by my grandfather Jim Kollar, too. How exciting.
There will be events taking place in July in many localities. Be sure to visit one to learn about local history.
At Christmas time, Misty Greene Senanafes, her husband, Mike, and their son, Zachary, were visitors at the Smithfield Christian Church. It is so nice when those who attended the church as young people come back at holiday time. Zachary was dressed so cute in his Scottish plaid vest, white shirt and dress pants. He is a great looking little man.
I’m sure Barb Wilinski thought of me when she saw the “Bound and Gagged” cartoon in the Sunday edition three weeks ago. It shows a car flying off a ski ramp and the wife is saying, “I told you to use the GPS, but No-o-o-o.”
Barb said they once had a GPS like ours that planned the trips on all the back roads of the county, such as we took going to Morgantown in the summer.
She laughed at my story, knowing what we were going through.
(McCoy, a resident of Smithfield, is food editor and a staff columnist for the Herald-Star and the Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)