A big bunch of not much

The ’scopy results were an anti-climax.  L dropped me off at the center at six-thirty, and I only had to wait a few minutes before they called me back to my gurney.  Everyone was prompt, and I was in the exam room within half an hour.  The most uncomfortable part of the whole thing (of the parts I remember, at least) was the anchoring patch over the IV drip, which made the back of my hand itch yet couldn’t be scratched.

I don’t remember the procedure part at all, which is by design.  The exam room nurse dumped a shot of Versed and another of Fentanyl into the port on my IV drip, and I lasted about long enough after that to remember making the turn into the examining room door.  After that it was all a blank until I found myself almost dressed, with T, who was driving me home, getting release instructions from the nurse.  I learned from T that the nurse had said the doctor found one polyp in my stomach, which he removed, and nothing of any interest in my colon or intestine.  That’s strange, ’cos I’m still getting mild discomfort there.  I may have to bully him into an old-fashioned abdominal X-ray to see if anything’s visible that way.

Since I hadn’t had a bite to eat since yesterday’s breakfast, I took T out for a late breakfast at Julio’s (a place that I highly recommend; it’s overlooked and way, way good food).  After that, T dropped me at the house and I spent the rest of the day alternately dozing and reading Winston Churchill’s A History of the English-Speaking Peoples.  I started with Volume II (Bosworth to the Glorious Revolution), and now I’m working simultaneously through Volume I (Julius Caesar to the Wars of the Roses) and Volume III (William and Mary to Waterloo).  I’m almost done both, and ready for Volume IV (the Regency to WWII).