In 2006 when I entered Putnam Hospital Center to have a failed bronchoscopy to determine if I had #Sarcoidosis of the lungs, little did I know that journeys to hospitals and medical centers would become the norm.
Later that year I had an open lung biopsy, by far the most painful procedure I ever had, and after that, everything became a piece of cake. The next year followed with two heart surgeries and another to implant a defibrillator in my chest. Post surgery removal of the pressure bandage took away the top layer of my skin on my chest and resulted in my number two worst procedure.
Since then I have lost count of the amount of tests and procedures I have endured, and as I look back, my calendar has bearly a week without some doctor's visit, blood test, x-ray or something medically related. I feel at times as if I am a lab experiment.
And tomorrow yet another. My colonoscopy, which I have every two to three years because of my family's history with colon cancer (grand mother, father, two first cousins).
Yet as I purchase the distasteful solution that I must endure tonight to allow me to garner a seat on the most uncomfortable chair in the house, and allow my bowels to cleanse for the procedure tomorrow, I look at it as a day off. I get to relax. I know it's weird, but I always look at these “wasted” days in hospitals as an opportunity to just do nothing. It's a mini vacation in my head, and by doing so, they don't annoy me in the least.