Is it true? Does it really happen? Do we sometimes miss it, absolutely! But not this time. For over a year I have suffered from an issue that I struggle to describe, but if you were around me you would think I was a cat trying to cough up a hairball.
I saw an allergist who asked me to provide a sputum sample which I did, and the results showed I had two different types of infections, so I was treated with one antibiotic for a month and then a second antibiotic for two weeks. I saw relief for a short period of time and then was right back where I started.
I would describe it to my family like a pill hung in your throat but more like a gob of something. Once I coughed it up which often took hours, I felt so much better. My family will tell you my hacking got on their nerves and my response is it got on my nerves too. There were many times that I thought I could not breathe as it felt like it was cutting off my airway. Nothing and I mean nothing helped. Not over-the-counter allergy medications, decongestants, hot coffee, nothing that I tried worked, I just had to endure and cough it up.
Fast forward, I was having what I thought was heart problems as I was having chest pain and shortness of breath on exertion, and I made an appointment with the cardiologist I had seen 10 years ago for the same problem. By the way, rheumatoid arthritis does cause organ damage as well as joint damage, so my rheumy had wanted me to stay on top of things like this. He ran every test possible and cleared me with my heart and suggested I go back to my pulmonary doctor as he felt my problem was related to pulmonary.
Over the months I was having my “hairball” experience I would often take a picture of my sputum. I know nasty right, but I wanted to be able to show what I was coughing up because sometimes I honestly thought it was pieces of lung. You might want to scroll on past here if you are squirmy because I thought I would share what I was coughing up. Okay, maybe I will not post pictures because it is pretty nasty looking.
I went to see Dr. O’Neill who I have always adored, because every time that I have seen him, he believes me when I say I have a problem, even if it does not make sense, he will try to figure it out. He listened to my complaints and looked at my pictures, though I do not think he cared to see them and would say he did not have to see the pictures, that he believed me when I described what I was experiencing. He decided to do a bronchoscopy and on follow-up told me that he did not find anything in my lungs, that they were relatively clear, and it was nothing like what I had shown him in my pictures. Some doctors would have stopped there, as I was complaining of coughing gunk up, and after a bronchoscopy, he was sure it was not coming from the lungs. He did give me a sputum cup to get a sputum sample. Maybe he thought my pictures were not mine after all and he wanted to see for himself. Wanting to help me, he ordered a CT scan of my head. Now that seemed a little odd to me, but he is the doctor. Maybe he was checking to see if I had a brain as it does not take long knowing me to figure out there might be something missing.
The CT scan was on a Friday and Saturday morning I get a call from Dr. O’Neill who asked me at the time what I thought were weird questions. Are you having any pain on the left side of your head? Eye pain? Ear? And on and on and I was like “not really.” He then told me that if I had excruciating pain to go to the closest emergency room but that if I started having pain on the left side, but not urgent, to go to a larger named medical center. He then proceeded to give me his cell phone to call if I had any problems. That was a bit alarming as I have never had a doctor do that before. He said he was going to get me an appointment at a major medical hospital asap. I shared this call with my family later and they were like well what did he say he saw, why was he concerned about these things, and my response was, “Um I didn’t ask.” So, the weekend proceeded on, and on Sunday I was able to get a decent sputum sample and told my boss I was going to run it to the office on Monday morning and I would not be gone long.
When I arrived at the doctor’s office, I simply wanted to drop off my spit sample and be on my way but was told the nurse wanted to see me. When she came to the door, she said the doctor would like to see me in his office and my response was I only have a minute. It was not until this very moment that I got a little nervous because in the movies it is when you go into the doctor’s office that you get the bad news. But crazy me all I was thinking was “make it quick” as I need to get back to work. I am such a nut about work and usually put it before my health. The Doctor explained the CT scan showed a mass, and I think that was when I really did not hear much of anything he was saying, until the end when he said he thought the mass was an infection, or at least that was what I heard. He did tell me he was able to get me an appointment with the best doctor Duke had, though he had hoped to get an appointment sooner than he was able to.
Until an appointment was made at Duke and until I went to the appointment, I really did not worry about it a lot, thinking it was an infection and no big deal, some antibiotics and I would be on my way. I had a really bad infection in my head after sinus surgery, 10 years ago and had to have IV medications. I will never forget it because I was starting a new job as a hospice social worker and I was so concerned that if they knew I had an IV central line, they may not let me start to work. So, I made sure it was hidden well, in loose clothing so it could not be seen. Hmmm, I guess if they read this they will know now. Oops.
So fast forward to my appointment. I was seeing the head surgeon of Otolaryngology (a head and neck surgeon) at Duke. I saw another Doctor first, I think he was doing his rotation in that area of study, and he as you can imagine asked me a zillion questions as they do at teaching hospitals. I am used to it as I usually go to Duke for my medical needs as I am “high risk” whatever that means. It was not until the Doctor started asking me the same questions, have you had headaches, eye pain, and so on that, I started telling him about what I thought were weird experiences I had that had come to mind over the week between Dr. O’Neil’s questions and this appointment. I recalled several times having what I remembered once telling Chip that I thought I was having a stroke or at the very least Bell’s Palsy. I was out of town at a meeting, and I was at the hotel talking with a co-worker when my left eye began hurting really bad and I began to feel like the left side of my face was drawing up. It was so bad that I wondered if the person I was talking to could see it. I excused myself and when I went to the room I went straight to the mirror. The left side of my face felt like it was pulling on the inside, and my eye was hurting, but it looked fine in the mirror. I honestly thought I was going to have a stroke that night. The next morning this was fine, but it happened a couple more times over the next couple of years. I always tried to figure it out as every time I was talking to someone at an odd angle, and I thought it had something to do with holding my eye in a turned position too long. I always tried to find a logical explanation for things that did not seem right, but I never follow-up on them, and live with it. I have had headaches for so long that I did not even think about them, they were part of my life, and I continuously took over-the-counter pain medication only when it was too bad to tolerate. So, when Dr. O’Neill asked about headaches, I did not think much about it, but over the next week of course I did think about it as well as focused on the headaches, where was it hurting, did it seem any worse, and I shared this information with the doctor. I had complained to my family for months that my face hurt like it felt swollen. I was constantly taking my glasses off because they were pushing against my face, though I am blind as a bat without them and could not leave them off for long. Little things that I had not thought much of were now jumping out at me like I had complained of facial pressure when I bent over. I always thought I had the weirdest issues and would keep pushing on. So, apparently, everything I described to him was what was expected with tumors like this. Wait, what? A tumor? I thought I had an infection. The head surgeon, who is beyond amazing and not bad to look at either, though I am old enough to be his mother I am sure, showed me the CT scan, and apparently, these things had deteriorated the bone of my left eye orbit and at the base of my brain on the left as well.

The large arrow is pointing to the mass that had deteriorated my skull.

This arrow is pointing to the mass and where it had eroded my eye socket

Day of surgery and you can see how my eye is swollen based on the size of the eyelid-I was not looking at that when I took the picture but was sending Chip selfies because he had to wait in the car because of COVID protocols.

I will not go into a long discussion of what all he said but the gist of it was I had to have surgery and if I did not this thing would continue to grow and would eventually cause my eye to pop out and further damage to my skull. Now to me I literally thought it meant to pop out, like laying on my cheek, but I think he meant was it would make the eye protrude out as I, of course, went and googled it and though the definition of a tumor is a swelling of a part of the body, generally without inflammation, caused by an abnormal growth of tissue, whether benign or malignant. And though I did have a growth it is referred to as a mass called Mucoceles which are benign, locally expansile paranasal sinus masses.

EXCERPT from my medical record
[We discussed surgery as the treatment for the mucocele. We discussed risks including, pain, bleeding, infection, injury to the eye and/or brain, CSF leak (higher risk in her case given bony erosion seen on imaging)].

I agreed of course to the surgery but asked if it had to be immediate. He looked at me like I had three eyes so I explained my husband and I wanted to go to the Grand Canyon this year and if there was a chance, I could lose my vision in that eye or worse, die, as we all know there is always that risk with surgery, then I really wanted to mark this off my bucket list first. So, he agreed and wanted to schedule it immediately upon our return. Well, yeh, that will not work either as my niece was getting married, and well I needed to wait till after that because I did not want to take the chance of ruining that. So more reluctantly he agreed.
We went on our trip, which is another blog, and though I did have increased pain at times, I am glad we did it just the way we did.
The surgery was successful according to the Doctor. I have yet to ask him if I lost any brain fluid, but I am pretty sure that I did because I have CRS (can’t remember stuff) that is worse than it already was, okay so it is probably just age and overload, but I can blame it on surgery just to avoid the age discussion. The surgeon did tell me they had found a third mucocele while in there, on the sphenoid, which is the rarest of these suckers. Leave it to me.
I did have some after surgery complications with infection and blood clots, and for a little while I did not have any of the gunk building up and coughing, but unfortunately, it did come back, though, not as bad, and I recently had my last appointment with Dr. O’Neill, who sadly is retiring at the end of the year. He referred me to a great allergist in Lynchburg who is working on eliminating this severe post nasal drainage. Even though I started back my hacking, it is not as bad, and regardless, I am glad I had it in the beginning because without that issue and Dr. O’ Neill’s persistence to try to get to the bottom of it, my mucoceles would have continued to grow unnoticed and caused even more damage.
So, if you ever have something weird going on, do a follow-up on it, and I pray for you to have someone as awesome as Dr. O’Neill because he has never let me down and has always been beyond thorough to figure out what is wrong with me, well we all know no one will truly figure out what is wrong with me as I am often told: “You are not right.”
This blog was started many months ago to share my Divine Intervention, but it is ending with a huge heartfelt thank you to Dr. O’ Neill, though you will be missed beyond measure, I hope you enjoy your retirement, and though there will never be another that compares to you, I pray whoever takes your place (they will never fill your shoes) will care as much as you do about your patients, even though sometimes you can be cranky, you are the best there is, and you never doubted me and for that I am grateful. God used you as my Divine Intervention.

It was a usual office day with me at my desk in front of a window that my view is a bluebird box that I have had the pleasure over the years to see the bluebirds build their nests, lay their eggs, take turns watching their eggs, and feeding their babies.  Chip even turned the opening so I could see them come and go. The birds would catch my eye often throughout the day as they come and go. It brings me such happiness to look forward to this ritual several times a year. I miss them when the winter comes and though they still stop by it is not as often.

Today as I was working at my desk, I was hearing a lot of squawking out the window and look up to see several birds fluttering around, landing on the deck railing, to fly off again and are joined by more bluebirds. At first, I thought there must be a fight over whose nest it is as this has happened before, and I go back to typing. The ruckus gets louder as I see the birds fly toward the ground, so I stand up to look out and see if they were in fact fighting, as I have seen this as well, only to see a snake! The snake apparently had realized it could not climb the pole and was going toward the house. I immediately called Chip to see if he is close by and he said he was not. I am not sure I even said goodbye as I was hanging up when I was blurting out, I wanted to make sure the snake did not go into the basement.

I grabbed my pistol, took it out of the holster, went to the deck, and thought what the heck I do not even remember how to use this thing, and the last time I tried I did not have enough hand strength to pull the trigger. One of the many frustrating things of having Rheumatoid Arthritis is the ongoing decrease in my ability to do the simplest of tasks. Needless to say, I laid the gun on the bar to be safe, and I cautiously went out onto the deck in the rain and peeked over the edge and could not see the snake anywhere. And when I say cautiously, I was walking like I was sure the snake was going to come up through a crack on the deck and eat me. I then decided I better go down the steps and look under the deck to see where the snake went as I was terrified it would find a hole and get into the house. Of course, I was not going within 50 feet of the area and did not see anything from that distance. I was terrified it was going to be slithering toward me and went back inside.

I sat back down at my desk, but I could not quit thinking about that snake getting into my basement. I sent Chip a text….

I then remembered he had put golf balls in the chicken coop because snakes eat eggs and I thought if I threw a golf ball over the deck maybe the snake would think it was an egg and come out and eat it. I found a golf ball in the dog’s toy box and made my way to the deck. I threw the golf ball over the edge without getting too close because I am still terrified the snake might be climbing the deck. I go back to my office, look out the window and I do not see the golf ball. Ugh, I assume I must have overthrown my target. I really did not want to go back outside, but I had to know where that snake was, so I dig through the dog toys again to find another one. This time I very and I mean very reluctantly go to the edge of the deck and drop it to my targeted area and quickly dart back into the house. I go back to work and occasionally look to see if it was working and still no snake. I then decide maybe if I threw an egg at the golf ball the snake would smell the broken egg and come out then. So back to the kitchen to get an egg, back out onto the deck, in the rain, tip toeing as if that would save me from the snake, drop the egg over the edge and what the heck the egg did not break. I thought about wasting another egg, or what could I throw at it to break it, and decided to just let it be and hope the snake would come out and get one or the other.

I sent Chip another text…..

All during this time, the birds continued to create a ruckus and I would stand up, look out the window and I continued to not see anything. So, I would sit back down and type some more and repeat this scenario multiple times. All I could think about was this thing was in my basement and I was never going back down there. Then I thought that would be impossible, as I have a lot of stuff in the basement, so I guess I will be wearing knee high muck boots.

I then got busy and was not paying attention, and it hit me I had not heard any of the birds squawking in the last little bit and I looked out the window and there it was, THE SNAKE, and its tail was wrapped around the deck pole and its head was in the bluebird box. It happened so fast. Where did it come from? How did it get there? I was afraid the entire time it was going in my basement when in fact it was finding its way to my baby bluebirds.

I grabbed the phone and called Chip crying out, “it is in the bluebird house.” He said call Greg. I called Greg (my brother) and luckily, he answered as I hollered into the phone “please come quick there is a snake in my bluebirds” and I hung up. I immediately called back and said, “it’s the bluebird house on the back deck just go around to the back.” About that time the snake came out of the blue bird house and started going onto the deck. I called Greg back and panickily said “now it is on the deck, just come to the deck, and hurry.” By now I jump up to make sure I know where it is going, the entire time my heart is jumping out of my chest. Thankfully, Greg and Michelle were here within a minute, and Michelle nonchalantly picked the snake up as I was screaming through the glass door to kill it. She does not kill snakes, so I continued to scream, “please do not let it go in my yard, take it with you” as they left the deck. I did not even say goodbye or tell them how thankful I was, all I was thinking was I sure hope it gets eaten by something bigger than him.

I went back to my desk to go back to work to only be distracted by an overall sadness that I had not been able to save the bluebirds. I worked at the desk for several more hours and not once did I see the bluebirds again. I looked out the window and said out loud “I am so sorry” with tears in my eyes, as if they could hear me. I truly was heart broken for the mama, daddy and baby blue birds.

Chip came home and I told him how bad I felt that I could not save the birds. If I just could have used my gun, maybe I could have scared the snake away even if my aim was not good enough to kill it. I then remembered this past weekend a friend had an automatic BB gun, it was really cool, like a machine gun. I decided that was exactly what I needed, a machine gun BB gun, and asked Chip if he thought I could shoot it and he said of course. I said then order me one. He was at his computer and was telling me all the details of what the BB gun came with and such and all I was thinking was I do not care as long as it was a machine gun, just order it. He told me how much it was going to cost, and I said I do not care just order it. He then said I have it in the basket, but I am not going to order it yet and will give you time to think about it. Think about it? There is nothing to think about, order it, I am going to be prepared to save my bluebirds if this ever happens again.

Since then, I have thought what if I had seen that snake while I was out on the deck looking for it? I would have surely broken a hip as I would have tried to run, the deck was slick, and my bones are old. Thank goodness I did not see it but had I known it was under the deck I would have tried to make noise or something to scare it away, but the only thing that was truly scared was me, and of course those bluebirds.

By the time you read this, my machine BB gun has arrived and here it is and this gun-toting over-protective bluebird watcher is ready to fight! I just hope they give their home another chance.

Today is Wednesday and I am on day one of my prep for my first colonoscopy. It is not until you cannot eat, that you realize how bad you want to eat. I began to analyze anything and everything edible. As I scooped out a teaspoon of “better than chicken” base, which you add to boiling water to make a chicken broth, I looked at the base and thought of hot fudge. It was the same consistency, so could I add hot fudge to water, and it is a meal? Then I remembered clear liquids meant no dairy and chocolate fudge surely had dairy in it. So that was out, but my mind did not stop reeling.

Chip made the grocery store run for me, picking up the items I had sent him on my “acceptable list.” I do not typically drink soft drinks, but was going to splurge and drink ginger ale on my liquid-only diet, so that was at the top of the list but also apple juice, white grape juice, orange Jell-O, and broth. 

He bought all of the items but when he handed me two small boxes of Jell-O mix I thought what is this? When I told him, I wanted orange Jell-O, I meant those cute little individual containers. He smiled and said he did buy some of those, but they were two for five dollars, so he thought the boxes would be a better “aka” cheaper idea.

Well, I quickly learned those cute little individual containers are a waste of money. I could eat one of those containers of Jell-o in two bites, so it was a good thing he bought the boxes so I could actually make a large bowl, which I did, and sadly placed it in the refrigerator to wait it out to get firm, I was ready for it as soon as I mixed it. 

I looked at everything and considered if it could be consumed. I even looked at the small packets laying on the counter from leftover Japanese and thought those are liquid, maybe I can just suck those packets dry. Well, nope it was not on the approved list either.

I thought about how much I love orange juice and thought I could definitely live off orange juice for a day. If I could have orange Jell-o and orange popsicles, then surely, I could have orange juice, since it has no other ingredients, just juice. Nope, that is not on the approved list either. According to the list, you have to be able to see through it. Well, that of course knocked out my dream of orange juice for the next 72 hours. But I gave it a lot of thought. If I added enough water to a cup of orange juice, it would probably be pretty clear. So if I drank a glass of orange juice, and chased it with several bottles of water, would that work?  How does my colon know if it came in “clear” or if it was diluted in route?

It is now Thursday and surprisingly I did not wake up hungry today. But around 9:00am, though I was not feeling hungry, I was feeling weak. I thought about my bowl of orange Jell-O I had made out of the two boxes Chip had bought me. I love me some orange Jell-O, so I decided to eat a little. Well, it was so good, I ate the entire bowl, and now I have a bellyache. So, to answer my own question, I do I think you can over-do-it with Jell-O.

So I was supposed to drink my first bottle of “stuff” at 6:00pm. At 5:56pm I pull the box out of the pharmacy bag and start pulling out the bottles I am supposed to drink. I had to get Bailey to open the top of the bottle, as it was one of those adult proof bottles that you have to hold down and turn at the same time. Had Bailey not been home, it would not have been consumed on time, as those bottles are not RA friendly at all. I poured it into the container provided, added water to the line, all while reading “helpful hints” such as mixing ahead of time and getting it cold, drinking through a straw, etc. and I thought well dear Lord too late for that, as here it is 6:00pm now and needs to be drunk. Bailey was in the background cheering me on as if I was in a beer-guzzling contest, “don’t breathe, just chug it.” And when I was finished, she was like wow, you did that good. Honestly, it was not bad at all. It was kind of a sweet flavor.

I had been told by friends ahead of time, to stay close by the bathroom and be prepared for it (the bathroom) to become my “room” for the night. I am not one to just sit around so I had put off tasks that could be done while staying close to the bathroom, you know just in case.

As I sit down at my computer, with my stomach rolling, I thought maybe I should go take these too tight jeans off, just in case I need to go really fast and need elastic waist pants on. I really do not know what to expect. Will it hit me suddenly and I cannot make it? I know of people who told me they wore a diaper to their procedure so they would not poop in their pants. I had people tell me horror stories of pooping in their pants, stopping on the highway, and hitting the woods on the way, and the list goes on. 

It is honestly not the procedure itself that worries me at this point, though no, I really do not want anyone looking at my pooper, but the unknown between now and then is what worries me. My allergies are bad right now, as they are every fall, and I am sneezing my head off. Do I dare stand up and walk, what if I sneeze? Will I look stupid going to the bathroom to sit on the toilet, just to sneeze? 

My second bottle was scheduled for 2:15am. Yes, 2:15am, I thought this seemed a little odd, but was going to follow my instructions. I went ahead and premixed the container with water and put it in the refrigerator since some suggested it was easier to consume, plus at 2:15am I did not want to be stumbling around the kitchen. I had everything ready and went to bed, to try to get some sleep until I had to get up at 2:15am. Well, that did not happen. Not because I was running to the bathroom, but more because I was afraid, I would miss my alarms, yes multiple alarms, I had set for 2:15am. The alarm never went off because at 2:00am, I decided it was close enough, headed to the kitchen to drink my liquid, and be done for the night. Well, lesson learned for me, if I must do this again, I will never put it in the refrigerator. I could not chug it at all, as I immediately had a brain freeze. Who wants a brain freeze from their colonoscopy prep? Not me, brain freezes should be associated with milkshakes and slushes. So, I, unfortunately, had to drink the container slower, than I would have liked, the entire time kicking myself in the butt for putting it in the refrigerator. But I finally got the container of “stuff” down, and immediately consumed 2-room temperature bottles of water per instructions to drink at least 16-additional ounces. Of course, now I was running to the bathroom for the rest of the night, no it is early morning, as night had already come and gone. At 5:15am, I get up, throw on my clothes, brush my teeth, go to the bathroom one last time, with the hope it was enough to last the ride to Reidsville. Just in case though, I did pack a clean pair of underwear. Several times in route, I felt a little twinge of rumbling and wondered if perhaps I should have worn an adult diaper after all. Then I thought maybe I should have packed an extra pair of pants too. What good would a pair of underwear do without clean pants, why did I not think to pack pants? 

We arrived at the hospital entrance and it had not opened yet. Who closes a hospital? Ok, so it was not the emergency room which is always open, and I guess I have never been to the hospital at 6:00am, so how was I supposed to know it would not be open. Oh lord, what if I have to go and here, we are in the parking lot, with a hospital locked up as tight as a tick. Thank goodness I saw staff starting to mill around inside right at 6:00am, cutting lights on and unlocking the door. I got in line and stood on the “X” that kept people 6-feet apart while waiting for the patients in front of me to get screened. Then it was my turn. The security guard asked, “Can I help you?” Ummm, yes, I have an appointment. An appointment for what he asked. My mind was reeling as quick as it could for a response, and of course, I thought of none, so I softly said a colonoscopy. Boastfully he shared with me “Oh, I have had one of those, it is not so bad.” Well, I really did not want to have this discussion with a perfect stranger, I just wanted to slip down the hall, unnoticed and get checked in. Unfortunately, I was quick to hear as I rounded the corner, the couple who was in front of me was told no check in’s before 6:15am to take a seat. Oh crap, I thought. I really could use a bathroom and here I must take a seat and wait with no bathroom in sight. Maybe I should go look for one I thought and headed back up the hall. Nope, there was no bathroom between me and the security guard, so now he knows I am here for a colonoscopy, and now I have to ask him for a bathroom, and of course, he will know why. And do not even ask me why that matters, “everyone has to poop” but to me, it has always been a very private event and I would prefer no one know when that is going to occur. But here we go, a stranger knows, so he directs me with a smile, and I head on my way. As I am washing my hands, I am thinking about options. Is there another way out and back where I need to go, so I do not have to go back by the security guard? Maybe it will be a crowd coming in and he will not see me. Well of course not, it is a small hospital, and it is 6:15am and of course no one is around to even have him distracted and he smiles at me as I come back by. He was probably remembering his own “thank God” I made it moments. Thankfully he did not ask me if everything came out ok. 

Back at registration, I was called up to be checked in and this person also shared with me about their colonoscopy experience. She thought drinking the prep drink was the worst part. I did not tell her what the worst part for me was because I was still afraid of the unknown. I am called to the back by a really nice girl (she was younger than me, so she is a girl), named Melanie. She asked a zillion questions and then gave me a gown, hospital socks, and asked if I needed to go to the bathroom. Of course, I did, and she laughed when I said, “Yep, I am not empty yet.” She said she would get me some warm blankets and come on out when I was ready. When I came out of the bathroom with my clothes and shoes in my arms, I saw that she had put down a clear plastic sheet in the middle of the bed and several warm towels beside the plastic area. I sat down on the plastic and thought, well I guess they think I may have an accident, so it was a smart thing to do, cover the area where your butt will lay, with plastic. I sat on the edge of the plastic, with my clothes still on my lap when she came in and said, your clothes for your bag is under you. Under me, I thought, and I must have looked puzzled because she said you are sitting on it. I started laughing and told her I thought it was plastic covering the bed, you know, “just in case.” We both got tickled laughing, as I stood up, and took the bag from under my bottom, put my clothes in it, and handed it to her. I did tell her that in my head I figured they would lay me out on a black trash bag because surely this was going to be a mess and I thought they should all have triple pay of anyone else, because of what their jobs entailed. Two other nice girls, Tonya and Tammy, came in assisted with various things, and headed me to the “procedure room.” I was wheeled, back, I told a poop joke, and the next thing you know I am told it is all over and asked how I feel because my blood pressure was low. I assured them I always have low blood pressure and I honestly felt fine. I was still in shock it was over because I know it had only been a few minutes since we were talking. I got dressed and she walked me to the truck where Chip was waiting with a Bojangles Chicken Biscuit. Bojangles Chicken Biscuits are not on my approved list of anti-inflammatory foods, but I had convinced myself, that this was an exception and enjoyed every bite of it. 

So, when I turned 50 a few years back, I did not think it was a big deal but knew the day would come that would make this aging thing be kind of crappy. But now that I have been through it, and I am no longer afraid of the unknown, my philosophy is everyone needs a good cleaning every now and then and it really was not that bad after all.

For as long as I can remember, my family and friends would tell me, that you are so full “of it” that your eyes are brown, but here I am all cleaned out, and my eyes are still brown, so I guess it is still true, I am full of it and always will be. 

My advice for others is to listen to other’s advice, and you will have to figure out what works for you. For me, if I have to do it again, the only thing I will do differently is not put my “stuff” in the refrigerator, and I will definitely pack a pair of clean underwear and an extra pair of pants, just in case.

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