Bring On The 4th!

Image(s) courtesy VintageHolidayCrafts.com

I'm not a big fan of the 4th of July. I hate fireworks. Really hate them. I'm convinced someone is going to blow a finger off. Or put an eye out. Or both. And I don't like eating outside, either. It's always hot, and that means back sweat (and sometimes boob sweat, if it's REALLY hot). And flies land on your food, and we all know flies eat poop and dead things, then land on your potato salad and rub their feet together. Not cool.

So glad Maria just posted this!

The one thing I DO like on the 4th of July is our neighborhood party. It is held on the morning of the 4th and is wonderfully corny, with patriotic music, speeches, and food - lots and lots of wonderful, delicious food. (It does include boob sweat and flies, but I make an exception for this event only.) This year, I fully intend to enjoy myself. And eat. And eat. And eat. And why is that?

Because last year, I had a miserable 4th of July. MISERABLE, I TELL YOU, the reason being that, due to exceedingly poor planning on my part, I had scheduled a colonoscopy for July 5. My oncologist had ordered it to check for any sign of rogue breast cancer cells, and my goal was to get it over with as soon as possible, so I took the first available date offered to me. 

As the nurse gave me my directions for the day before the procedure, it became quite clear that my 4th of July was going to be no fun. Clear liquids only (that means NO DIET COKE) for the entire day. Four laxative tablets at 3:00 in the afternoon, then a gallon of Gatorade (no red, pink or purple dye in it) laced with Miralax. Then waaaaaait...

Here's how that day panned out, as posted on July 5, 2012:

Colonoscopy checklist:
apple juice, check
four flavors of Gatorade (no Red 40), check
banana popsicles, check
Dulcolax, check
238 gram bottle of Miralax powder, ch---wait a sec....

MY bottle of Miralax powder is 527 grams. WTF? Time for a call to the nurse. The verdict? Apparently, the doctor prescribed the wrong amount for me (does he think I've been eating CEMENT?), and I only need to use 238 grams of Miralax. This, however, is easier said than done. How in the hell am I supposed to measure THAT? I live in America. We don't weigh anything in grams. Does this mean I have to do math? 

Fortunately, the major math disaster was averted, because I found a grams-to-ounces conversion calculator online, BUT I was then left with a minor math disaster of rounding off 8.29520 ounces into something measurable. 

I made it to 1:00 on the 4th of July, my very poorly planned Cleansing Day, before I got hungry. And I think I would have gone longer, had I not made the proclamation, "Gee, it's 1:00 and I'm not even hungry yet!" Because as soon as I said it, my stomach started to growl. And I will go on record RIGHT NOW as saying banana popsicles are not filling, even when you eat two of them in rather quick succession. 

At 2:30, I decided it was time to start cooking. I got my four bottles of Gatorade from the refrigerator, pulled out the kitchen scales, and got four little plastic tubs for the Miralax. I measured out 2.1 ounces (well, as close as my crappy kitchen scale can get) of Miralax into each of the four little tubs. Got out a funnel ('cause I'm a THINKER), an 8 ounce glass, and headed upstairs. 

The first little stumbling block was that I had intended to use four different flavors of Gatorade, so I wouldn't get sick of one flavor. What I didn't realize is the bottles I got held 32 ounces. I needed 64 ounces total. Therefore, as with the Miralax, I had twice as much Gatorade as I needed, and unless I did some elaborate pouring of Gatorade into multiple containers, I was only going to get to use two flavors. Crap. (No pun intended.)

Right off, I stuck the funnel into the bottle of Gatorade, poured the first tub of powder in and dunked the end of the funnel into the liquid, thereby completely clogging up the funnel and causing me to spill powder everywhere as I tried to pour it into the neck of the Gatorade bottle from the side of the funnel.

 It was at this point that I realized there was going to be a problem. Now, I'm no physicist, but it became quickly apparent that pouring 2 ounces of Miralax powder into a full bottle of Gatorade was going to cause some product displacement. Fortunately, I figured this out shortly BEFORE the bottle overflowed. Time for a Plan B.

I ran down to the kitchen and brought up a quart sized glass pitcher with what I THOUGHT was a tight-fitting lid. I poured the Gatorade and the rest of the Miralax powder into the pitcher, snapped the lid on, and started to shake it up, per instructions, and Gatorade started shooting out of the pitcher around the edges of the lid. On to Plan C, a Tupperware pitcher with a REAL lid, and I transferred the mixture YET AGAIN and got it mixed without further mishap.

I won't say the Gatorade/Miralax cocktail was delicious, but it wasn't quite as bad as I thought, in spite of how much I detest Gatorade. The Miralax was tasteless, although it left a bit of a film on my tongue. The entire experience was rather underwhelming, which is not what I expected from all the testimonials I received. That leads to the question, "Did it WORK?"

Bottom line (BAHAHAHAHA!!!): success! No walk of shame out of the hospital like my brother had to do recently. The procedure took hardly any time at all, my dear friend Michelle was my recovery room nurse once again, and the best part? My colon was as pink and smooth as a baby's bum. Take THAT, Cancer!