Sunday. Lights out by ten, awake at six-thirty, up but once during the night. I seem to recall. They tend to run together, these nights, if I don't write the recollection down within a couple of hours.
No heading to the café for breakfast, we begin the diuretic routine today at noon in preparation for the colonoscopy tomorrow, mixing the power that came in the empty gallon plastic container with water this morning at eight and putting it in the refrigerator to start drinking it at five this afternoon. Joy. Half of it today, the remainder tomorrow morning. Not that bad, but it's been a while since I've had one of these things and it's been getting to me. Doing it is essentially easy, fighting the idea of it is hard(er).
Read about half the morning papers, got up to mix the stuff up at eight, thinking now of maybe going out somewhere for coffee. They say coffee, tea and clear fruit juices are allowed, things like apple juice, clear and not red. Red colored stuff is to be avoided. Curious.
Oh, and one fifty-one this morning on the scale. I'm finding the number a bit disconcerting. Stop ordering the half order of potatoes for breakfast in the mornings, not sure why I started doing that in the first place.
Later. Another slow day, visibly raining in the mid-afternoon, both outside the window and on the playing fields, switching back and forth between the Raiders and 49'ers home games on television. Not hungry, a second dose of the pain meds for the sinus-upper palate thing, but otherwise nothing more to say.
Evening. This gallon of diuretic stuff tastes alright, the problem I'm finding is it's cold. It's been in the refrigerator all day, as per instructions, but the day is cold and, if you drink enough quickly enough, you're cold. So I've been sitting and standing in front of the wall heater to finish it before seven. They say it will flush you out for about two hours after you stop drinking and I want to be in bed by nine (close to the bathroom).
Ah, well. We will indeed be glad when this is over.