I ate cake for dinner tonight.
Even though it was gluten free, this cake was still delicious. I chose dessert for dinner to ensure that in the event of my untimely demise tomorrow, that my last meal was at least a good one.
You see, tomorrow I’m going back to my GI doctor and getting an upper endoscopy done. This procedure requires that I be put under anesthesia, and I’m a bit worried because I’ve only been under once before.
“So why the cake?” my husband questioned when I told him what I was eating for dinner was a direct result of tomorrow’s procedure.
“Because I could die….” I started to tell him before he interrupted me.
“Wait. Why do you think that there’s an increased chance of your death tomorrow?” he said without any audible sense of worry.
“Well,” I continued between happy bites of cake, “I’m being put under.”
My husband just looked blankly at me.
“Aaaannnnnd….everyone knows that with anesthesia there’s a chance of death,” I proclaimed as I took another bite of frozen birthday cake.
“You probably have the same chance, no scratch that, you probably have a better chance of dying from eating that frozen cake than you do from the medicine tomorrow,” and he turned back to watching Storage Wars on TV completely ignoring me pretending to be choking on my cake chunks.
For those of you who are new, or maybe didn’t pick up on it, I’m a bit of an alarmist (<—read this if you haven’t heard about the time I thought there was a gas leak).
Since I just got back from New York, and was totally immersed in BlogHer for weeks, I haven’t had time to stress about this procedure (which by the way is to get a sense of the amount of damage I’ve done to my hot-mess insides eating gluten, barley, rye and other offenders for years). There’s the possibility that there’s something else wrong too, so I guess we’re ruling out other ailments like an alien in my small intestines. But for me, my immediate concern is the medication to make me sleep…
First, I hope it puts me all the way asleep because I don’t want to be the slightest bit conscious when this thing goes in:
Secondly, will I wake up? I don’t remember much of passing out or being woken up the last time for that matter either, and there is always a risk…
Which brings me to my third worry about the anesthesia itself…when it was administered I remember asking, “Do I need to count or something?” and the anesthesiologist said, “No, you should get real sleepy in a second.” And just as it started to go black I remember thinking, Mike Honcho.
And I was out.
Or was I?
When I woke up I remember laughing, not just because people around me were farting (that’s a true statement, you can read that one here), but also because my second thought after “Wow, there is a whole lotta ass sounds,” was this random clip from Talladega Nights where Cal tells an unconscious Ricky Bobby about doing something no one knew about under the name “Mike Honcho.”
Why the heck would that pop in my head? Did I say that to the doctors and nurses in my room before hand? I have no memory of it, but given that it was the last thing I thought before I fell asleep and it was one of my first thoughts right after I woke up, I’m a little concerned about what I might have been mumbling in my drug induced haze.
I hope that the medical team has seen this movie if I did mention it, and didn’t wheel me into recovery thinking, “What’s with her cheeks, and who the hell is Mike Honcho?”
So tomorrow, as I slip into sleep, I’m sure I’ll be thinking of this stupid clip again, but hopefully I won’t say it out loud…and hopefully I wake up…but if I don’t, at least I had my cake.
And please, if something does happen, don’t think of me and Mike Honcho (now that I’ve gone and made the association).
Remember me more like this: