Chug-A-Jug

Since last Tuesday things have been quiet with no calls from doctors. I figure no news must be good news. I was feeling well enough that I flew the airplane up to Oklahoma on Saturday for an airplane fly-in. Erika calls my airplane “The Magic Carpet” cause it does tend to transform time. My friend Craig and I flew back to Texas at 9,500 ft with a ground speed of over 200 mph. Try that in your Cessna. : )

Yesterday, Sunday, started the prep for this morning’s endoscopy (scope-a-throat) and the colonoscopy (poke-a-bottomy). Wowzer!!!! I now fully understand the phrase "colon cleansing." My hat is off to all you over fifty that this has become a way of life. The gallon of that stuff taught me more about discipline then any paddling ever did. At times I didn’t know which end to put over the porcelain. But hey I got the gallon down and I bet a lot of you cheated and didn’t finish it all. I was going to make sure this stuff worked the first time cause I didn’t want a repeat. I just love the simple things in life. In this case it was the Quilted Northern.

Once we arrived at the procedure place this morning I immediately got depressed when I walked into the waiting room. Most people were pale, looked like they had not eaten in the last 36 hours,had been foreced to dring a gallon of salt water, and had slept sitting up. It was obvious who was there for the procedure and who the designated driver was. I was thinking that a mariachi band might not be a bad idea. As my Pastor told me on Sunday, the prep was indeed the worst part. I’m still not sure what all I said while I was drugged up, but I remember asking the Doctor if this is what he dreamed of doing when he was a little boy. I’m not sure how he responded, but I heard him laughing.

The good news is everything turned out good. No problems were found. I’m now waiting to hear back from the cancer doctor as to the next step. It sounds like a bronchoscope (pokeanosetothelungsamy) might be in the cards next.

So I wait, but that’s not so bad. A week ago I thought I would spend much of this week in a hospital having everything imaginable done to me. The thought of a having my chest spit worried me a fair bit and it still does. But hey, I had a great week of eating ice-cream, playing my banjo, flying, spending time with my bride, and quiet time with my Lord.

Erika drove back to Conroe (3.5 hrs south) this afternoon, but not before she made me a pumpkin pie to go with tonight’s ice cream. What a gal. Thanks Erika!!!!!