The colonoscopy went just fine. They of course had problems finding my mini-veins for the IV. And the first shot of narcotic/anaesthesia didn't kick in....until right as they administered the second one. All in all, I don't remember a thing. (And the prep wasn't that bad either. Honestly, it was better than some of those recently bad episodes after a long run--a fact that when relayed to my doctor made his eyes bulge). Anyhoo: no polyps.
But he didn't fix the hemarrhoid, which annoys me to no end. Wouldn't the more prudent approach be to FIX my WELL KNOWN and PROBLEMATIC hemarrhoid while he's in there and I am asleep as opposed to having me come back in to his office and have him probe my booty WHILE I'M AWAKE???? The answer seems obvious to me and annoys me in no small way. If you can clip off a polyp, certainly you can tie off a hemmie. It makes me sigh in irritated frustration. (Is there "unirritated frustration?" I'm not sure, but I'm too bugged to care)
And of course, I bragged last week on running 10 miles for the first time in forever. 10 miles on the weekend was a short run BC. Now, I'm thrilled silly and requiring a nap afterwards if I can get a 10 mile run in. However, I also tweaked my calf during that run and haven't not had a good run since.
When I'm in shape, my calves are enormous; I call them cows. They are not quite to that place and apparently I've hurt them. I took 4 days off running last week and was able to go a full 1/2 mile this morning before the pain started again: it feels like someone is stabbing me in the leg at every step. Perhaps an angry gnome. In any case, I need to ice it and take some ibuprofen and stay off of it. I forgot the meds and the rest annoys me, too.
I'm annoyed today.
So let me continue on an additional running story rant. I was having a conversation with some women colleagues. Let's call them Senior (SR) and Junior (JR). SR has recently lost some weight and so JR and I were complimenting her on that and saying we hoped we looked so good when we reached her age. SR commented that the most shocking thing about getting older is that one cannot eat as much and that exercising is harder. She turned to me and said "Wait until you hit 40. You'll see! You won't have time to exercise at all!" JR and I smugly exchanged glances because not only have I hit 40, I've taken a few steps. "Yes," I told her. "But I am running."
"Ummm hmmmm," she replied.
I then continued that it bugs me that Dave can age and not gain weight at all. He's still skinny and in pretty good shape and he's MUCH (!) older than I am. (He's not, but I like to tell him that. With his prematurely gray hair, few tell him to wait until he hits 40)
"Well," SR says, "he's a runner."
I protest "But I'm a runner, too! I run more than he does!!"
"No, Anita," she says realizing to herself that I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about. "He's a runner."
Oh, really. And what exactly disallows ME from being a runner? That I run more than HE does? That I engage in other exercise more frequently than he does and therefore I can't be a runner? Or could it be what distinguishes HIM from ME? (I think "HIM" would be the concept here)
Did I mention that I'm generally just annoyed today?
Must get back to work. Bleah.