I starved myself yesterday. Nothing but fluids, juices, veggie and fruit both, and a protein shake at each meal, small ones. Today, was nothing but clear fluids. I was miserable. When asked how I was by anybody, "I am fucking hungry, you?"
I stayed in bed most of the day yesterday trying not to expel too much energy as I was starving myself all day, as I just mentioned above in case you missed the joy. You heard that I ate nothing for like 36 hours right?
I got up at 430am this morning.
You see here's what I had on my plate today:
530-730am - Drive from my home to my parents home in Toronto, drop off my dog. Dog can't stay home alone as long as I needed to be gone today, more than 8 hours, more like 12 hours.
730-8am - Drop off my car for service, pick up a free rental as part of the service.
8-9am - Drive through the city of Toronto at the height of traffic to a Digestive clinic for a colonic. That's not a drink, sounds like tonic. It's nothing like a drink, trust me.
11am - Colonoscopy of sorts, mine is called something different, not only can I not spell it, I cannot even say it.
With a 2 hour drive there isn't much choice in there for a self *ahem* "cleaning", hence the colonic appointment. "Please Mrs. Weir so a self enema 1 hour before your appointment?" Like in the fucking car? How? How do I do this? = colonic.
1pm - Back to my parents house for a rest if necessary, depending on the "invasion". You know, depending on how violated I feel.
4pm - Kids to dinner.
6pm - Female child to trampoline.
730pm - Pick up truck from service joint.
8pm - Drop off donations for a family who lost their home to a fire (the day wasn't full enough).
10pm - Home to bed.
None of this sounds joyous does it. It all sounds very, well VERY, like a lot, especially for someone with bi polar so I brought my husband along to do the driving. I mean I didn't know if, when the doctor violated me, he would sedate me first, buy me dinner, I didn't know. Figured a cabbie on hand was a good idea. Called "Cab Husband".
Please imagine my surprise when we arrived at the colonic center how surprised I was that I wasn't scheduled for today. I was starving. I'd been up since 4am. I had nothing but fluids in me so peed 17 times down on the drive and they have no appointment for me. My temper breached it's levees when suddenly I said, "What's the date today?" The 25th it turns out is not until next week and that is when I have all the medical procedures!!! Next fucking week. Imagine my having to tell my husband this bullshit. I was so angry he took it in stride and said "let's get our taxes done and visit with your Dad then, no harm no foul". All I could get out through my tears was, "get me to a Starbucks for a latte and a fucking donut please!"
So here I sit, it's 20 to 3pm and my father and husband are downstairs talking manly shit as I curl up with the dog upstairs asking myself how much valium is too much. Both men in my life talk too much. In fact they all do, even the damn dog. LOL
Now I have to figure out how the fuck I will handle next week. Can I drive myself? Can I drive while being starved? Will they sedate me and I won't be able to drive. I have 7 days to answer all these questions because apparently I don't know the god damn date.
Who are you again?
It's 1030pm. I am home now, posting this, two cookies in hand, a husband cabbie in bed, a dog snoring and I can't sleep. MOFO!
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