Checklist

So, it's true, thought I, as I upchucked vast quantities of foul-tasting fluid in the wee hours of this morning: the "prep" for a colonoscopy is horrid. Definitely true.

I wasn't supposed to be upchucking the fluid, of course; I was supposed to expel it from the other end. Nevertheless, despite my body's refusal to follow instructions, the colonoscopy went ahead as scheduled. And, all you colonoscopy virgins out there, let not your hearts be troubled, be ye not afraid: there's light at the end of the tunnel. So to speak. Perhaps tunnel imagery isn't the best in this context. Anyway, the actual procedure itself is quite marvellous, because you get the most groovy drugs. I've felt wonderfully loopy and at peace with the world for much of the day. (And I now am the proud owner of a series of photos of my healthy colon. Blown up and framed, they'll add a certain something to the front hallway.)

Plus I feel like I can now check off another item on my To Do list for growing old(er):
Stop having periods. Check.
Start watching weight. Check.
Cover up the grey roots. Check.
Develop embarrassing expertise in skin care products. Check.
Routinize nose and chin hair maintenance. Check.
Get colonoscopy. Check.

My mother does not have and never had such a list. When I told her I had a colonoscopy scheduled, she was appalled. "Why? What's wrong?" And when I explained nothing was wrong, that this was simply standard procedure, she was even more appalled. "They can't make you, can they?" This is a woman who truly does not understand the concept of preventive medicine. She's never had a pap smear, and her one and only mammogram convinced her that she should steer clear of all such things forevermore. "Whatever you're going to die of, you'll die of," she says cheerfully.

She's 81 and only just stopped roller-skating. So much for checklists.