Today is my 25th wedding anniversary. And no, I’m not 100 years old, I don’t have a swirly ratted up hairdo and I’m not wearing a chiffon dress with a rhinestone broach to go out to dinner.
Isn’t it funny how people who were married 25 years used to be old people, but now they’re young, like me? I think it's nice that they changed that.
The 25th anniversary used to be the silver anniversary, you probably had kids who were married themselves and they would throw a party for you at the country club. But 25th is the new 10th, so my husband and I are not having a big party, we’re not going on a cruise. We’re doing what every modern married couple should do to celebrate years of wedded bliss: He’s driving me to my colonoscopy.
It’s either severely ironic or just about right that I have to get a colonoscopy on my wedding anniversary. (There are some jokes here, but they haven’t solidified in my brain yet . . . and when they do I’m sure they won’t be fit to print. My kids read this, so I better just stop now.) I tried to schedule this procedure for another time, but I had to work around my husband's work schedule, my own schedule, and the holidays. I absolutely refused to have to be on a special prep diet while there were still Thanksgiving leftovers in the house. Especially since I found out that beer is not considered a clear liquid.
For the past four days I’ve been eating the strangest combination of foods and have been prohibited from eating things you would never think of, like whole wheat bread. I suspect the receptionist in the doctor’s office just sat down and typed up her grocery list, arbitrarily putting items in the “allowed” column and the “prohibited” column. When you agree to have this done, they don’t tell you that you can’t drink alcohol for four days, nor will you feel like it afterward, I suspect.
The good news is that yesterday I was allowed to drink water and broth! I had some cranberry juice around 8 p.m. and was actually bragging to everyone about it.
I've been trying to adopt a "hey-that's-life" attitude about today's events. My husband deserves a lot of credit, though, for not making me walk home from the outpatient medical center (it is only a few blocks away) and for not asking me any embarrassing questions. As far as he's concerned, I had a mole removed.
What was I doing 25 years ago today? Drinking champagne, which, now that I think of it, is a clear liquid, too.
Labels: colonoscopy, marriage, wedding anniversary