“Serving overseas as a small-town boy in America has been intense, stressful and humorous! Enjoy a light-hearted story with me from our last 20 years overseas!”
—Matt
Mis-scheduled Milestone
On turning fifty years of age, AARP sent me information to join their ranks of old folks. I am now half a century old and considered an antique by automobile standards. I would be a youngster if I was a giant tortoise that can live two-hundred years. I already move as slow as one.
On returning from a work trip days before turning fifty, my wife with a smile on her face, informed me that she had scheduled a colonoscopy for me without consulting me. I didn’t put up a fight that I couldn’t win. I began the protocol of eating bland foods the few days before the medical procedure at our overseas hospital. It was followed by a day of liquid diet, which meant that it was a day near the toilet. When nearing the last leg before the procedure, I downed fizzy medicine and drank the required three liters of fluid. I heard gurgles and squeals coming from my body that disturbed me.
My wife was required to accompany me to the hospital on the fateful day in my gurgling state and to make sure I got home safely afterwards. I brought a pile of cash with me because the hospital required full payment before the procedure, and their credit card machine regularly malfunctioned. I did not want to get to the hospital after these last eventful dietary days to be turned away as I couldn’t make payment.
After giving my name at the front desk, I was told by the receptionist that I was not scheduled for that day, but a month later. Using emotion and gasps, with some words too, I made it clear that I was not going to leave until the procedure was completed or I might violate the eleventh commandment (Thou shalt not whimper and make a seen in a hospital lobby). The receptionist restated that I was not scheduled for that day and that I must have misheard the scheduling operator who was wearing a mask. I could distinguish between February and March through a mask, and the discussion went on. Eventually the receptionist said she would call a supervisor.
Fifteen minutes later I was relieved to be approached by a nurse who said she would accompany me to the area for the procedure. I put my items in a locker, put on the robe, laid on a stretcher like bed, they put the IV in my arm, and the doctor began asking me questions. The last thing I remember was saying that I was from Indiana and missed eating corn on the cob, and the next thing I know I was waking up in a space enclosed by curtains.
A month later I was walking with my wife to the hospital for her first colonoscopy. She takes the warnings on the pre-procedure legal sheet too seriously and said to me without a smile on her face now, “I could have major complications from this.” I replied to her, “Not so much drama, you could have greater complications from not doing it.”
Something similar ever happen to you? Contact me and let me hear your story!
mattsmishaps@gmail.com Matt’s Mishaps, PO BOX 114, Grabill, IN 46741
