Strike two and I'm out ... of patience with the universe.
Since drinking the gallon of gritty crap last year didn't work well enough, this time I was put on a plan to drink an 8oz (~250ml) bottle of magnesium citricate at 8am and another at 5pm, yesterday, along with the standard clear-liquids-only diet. I had cleared my calendar, not knowing how much the morning dose would affect me, and thus ran all my usual Sun errands on Sat, and we skipped church. Didn't walk the dog. Did still do laundry, since that, at least, was an at-home job. I caught up on LJ, DW and some fic and some email, although there's still a hopeless amount to catch up on. I dutifully stuck to black tea (my preferred way to drink it anyway), water, ginger ale, chicken broth and blue Jello (no red, orange or purple allowed), which tasted of Kool-Aid and pixie sticks, not exactly my favorite, but ... eh ... it was food. Sort of.
Aside from going once after each dose, absolutely nothing else happened. The bottles stated that results could be expected 0.5-6 hours after drinking, so I stayed up super late, just to make sure the evening dose wasn't going to do anything, but, nope. And, for the record, the magnesium citrate was only slightly less gag-worthy than the gallon-of-crap, the main selling point being that it was FAR less, quantity-wise.
I woke up at 6:15a to call the surgical center where I was supposed to have the colonoscopy (I was due in at 7a) to cancel, then went back to a fitful, not very restful doze for another 3+ hours, wherein I had strange, disturbing dreams. Called my gastro to explain why I'd cancelled, leaving a message at his office since, of course, he was not there (being down at the surgical center :P).
The meds started kicking in around 10:30a, running to about 1p. Still not good enough for a colonoscopy, but, damn, it was annoying! Why so much later?? And why not working as well as they wanted? Do my Crohn's meds work too well? And how in hell are they going to get around this? Because, I have no doubt, my gastro will want to try a third time, and soon. When I think about going through modifying my diet for a few days, then another clear liquid day and ingesting something surely awful (because there has never, in all the different ways I have taken prep medications, been a way that was NOT vile) - I want to cry.
Meanwhile, MiniPlu has been a stress case because she's really more of an introvert (both kids are) - she's fine with her friends, and she'll raise her hand in class, but she otherwise hates having people look at her, and hates putting herself "out there." However, I strongly suggested to her that since she wasn't able to earn money this summer as planned, that she put her name out to our neighborhood's email list with an offer to babysit and petsit, as a way to earn some money here and there. She agreed but needed a few days to collect herself mentally, and even after she claimed to have collected herself, she was clearly a basket case when it came time to write the email. She refused to talk to me about it when I gently asked, and wouldn't let me suggest to her what might be helpful to type because it was overwhelming to her, but then got mad when I said I was going off with Will to donate some bulky items to Goodwill. Because she refused any help I might offer, even emotionally, but I was apparently still supposed to be there? *eyeroll* In the end, she decided it was too overwhelming to offer babysitting, and only offered petsitting. Somehow in there, she's afraid of what the kids she knows in the neighborhood will think about her, although why, I have no idea. So she babysits or petsits - so what??
It's very hard for me to understand, because I'm not a person who cares that much about what people think. I don't like cold-calling people because I like to explain what I want or need on paper/email, and take my time to make sure I'm clear, but otherwise, despite being an INFJ, I have enough extrovert tendencies that I really don't get why MiniPlu frets so much about others' opinions. I'm trying to be tolerant and patient, but it's hard.
MiniPlu also had to call the high school about making an appointment to see her counselor. She had already reached out on Friday to her counselor - who is just coming off maternity leave - by email, only to get an auto response saying that said counselor wouldn't be back in office until Sept 4, the day before school starts, but the deadline for making any tweaks to schedules is this Thurs. So, anyway, MiniPlu called the guidance office today, only to be told the secretary was on the phone, and MiniPlu could either leave a message or call back. But by the time MiniPlu called back, everyone was gone for the day, so she had to leave a message after all. And - she didn't know you're supposed to leave your phone number! She just assumed it was exactly like a cell phone that can automatically identify every call that comes in and keeps a readable record. Even though all the classrooms have obvious landlines, MiniPlu somehow thought the office would have cell phones. Why, I have no idea. And, yes, I know that some landlines ARE capable of keeping track of incoming caller ID, but that's relatively rare here. Of course, the moment I had opened my mouth before her call to suggest what she might say, she'd shushed me (see above: my suggestions overwhelming her when she's stressed). Of course, it hadn't dawned on ME that she WOULDN'T automatically include her phone number - cell phone generation and all that - because, true, she's never had to call a relative stranger and leave a message before, but she's certainly heard ME do it plenty of times, and I always ALWAYS leave a phone number! So, I'm boggling that she DIDN'T know this, and she's mad that I had somehow expected her to know it, and, honestly, I just cannot deal with people today. I took the laptop and went upstairs to hide in my room for awhile.
Doesn't help that R&K came back from Canada last night. Karen has a rough week ahead of her, although she was already being foolish in coming home at 1am and not going to bed until 5am even though ALL THE DISHES WERE DONE AND THE HOUSE WAS CLEAN(er). Ok, so she did litterboxes and petted the cats. That doesn't take four hours. Then she refused to let us get rid of an old queen mattress in the basement for absolutely no apparent reason, when Will and I were trying to clean it out a bit. (The woman does have trouble letting things go. Seriously, this mattress hasn't been touched since we moved in - not even for guests.) And just having Rob around, not lifting a finger to help, as usual, and randomly biting people's heads off (even if it's not mine) is pissing me off. Really, it was so nice having the house mostly to ourselves for a week, sigh.
Did I mention that I apparently cannot deal with people today? Meh.
Aside from going once after each dose, absolutely nothing else happened. The bottles stated that results could be expected 0.5-6 hours after drinking, so I stayed up super late, just to make sure the evening dose wasn't going to do anything, but, nope. And, for the record, the magnesium citrate was only slightly less gag-worthy than the gallon-of-crap, the main selling point being that it was FAR less, quantity-wise.
I woke up at 6:15a to call the surgical center where I was supposed to have the colonoscopy (I was due in at 7a) to cancel, then went back to a fitful, not very restful doze for another 3+ hours, wherein I had strange, disturbing dreams. Called my gastro to explain why I'd cancelled, leaving a message at his office since, of course, he was not there (being down at the surgical center :P).
The meds started kicking in around 10:30a, running to about 1p. Still not good enough for a colonoscopy, but, damn, it was annoying! Why so much later?? And why not working as well as they wanted? Do my Crohn's meds work too well? And how in hell are they going to get around this? Because, I have no doubt, my gastro will want to try a third time, and soon. When I think about going through modifying my diet for a few days, then another clear liquid day and ingesting something surely awful (because there has never, in all the different ways I have taken prep medications, been a way that was NOT vile) - I want to cry.
Meanwhile, MiniPlu has been a stress case because she's really more of an introvert (both kids are) - she's fine with her friends, and she'll raise her hand in class, but she otherwise hates having people look at her, and hates putting herself "out there." However, I strongly suggested to her that since she wasn't able to earn money this summer as planned, that she put her name out to our neighborhood's email list with an offer to babysit and petsit, as a way to earn some money here and there. She agreed but needed a few days to collect herself mentally, and even after she claimed to have collected herself, she was clearly a basket case when it came time to write the email. She refused to talk to me about it when I gently asked, and wouldn't let me suggest to her what might be helpful to type because it was overwhelming to her, but then got mad when I said I was going off with Will to donate some bulky items to Goodwill. Because she refused any help I might offer, even emotionally, but I was apparently still supposed to be there? *eyeroll* In the end, she decided it was too overwhelming to offer babysitting, and only offered petsitting. Somehow in there, she's afraid of what the kids she knows in the neighborhood will think about her, although why, I have no idea. So she babysits or petsits - so what??
It's very hard for me to understand, because I'm not a person who cares that much about what people think. I don't like cold-calling people because I like to explain what I want or need on paper/email, and take my time to make sure I'm clear, but otherwise, despite being an INFJ, I have enough extrovert tendencies that I really don't get why MiniPlu frets so much about others' opinions. I'm trying to be tolerant and patient, but it's hard.
MiniPlu also had to call the high school about making an appointment to see her counselor. She had already reached out on Friday to her counselor - who is just coming off maternity leave - by email, only to get an auto response saying that said counselor wouldn't be back in office until Sept 4, the day before school starts, but the deadline for making any tweaks to schedules is this Thurs. So, anyway, MiniPlu called the guidance office today, only to be told the secretary was on the phone, and MiniPlu could either leave a message or call back. But by the time MiniPlu called back, everyone was gone for the day, so she had to leave a message after all. And - she didn't know you're supposed to leave your phone number! She just assumed it was exactly like a cell phone that can automatically identify every call that comes in and keeps a readable record. Even though all the classrooms have obvious landlines, MiniPlu somehow thought the office would have cell phones. Why, I have no idea. And, yes, I know that some landlines ARE capable of keeping track of incoming caller ID, but that's relatively rare here. Of course, the moment I had opened my mouth before her call to suggest what she might say, she'd shushed me (see above: my suggestions overwhelming her when she's stressed). Of course, it hadn't dawned on ME that she WOULDN'T automatically include her phone number - cell phone generation and all that - because, true, she's never had to call a relative stranger and leave a message before, but she's certainly heard ME do it plenty of times, and I always ALWAYS leave a phone number! So, I'm boggling that she DIDN'T know this, and she's mad that I had somehow expected her to know it, and, honestly, I just cannot deal with people today. I took the laptop and went upstairs to hide in my room for awhile.
Doesn't help that R&K came back from Canada last night. Karen has a rough week ahead of her, although she was already being foolish in coming home at 1am and not going to bed until 5am even though ALL THE DISHES WERE DONE AND THE HOUSE WAS CLEAN(er). Ok, so she did litterboxes and petted the cats. That doesn't take four hours. Then she refused to let us get rid of an old queen mattress in the basement for absolutely no apparent reason, when Will and I were trying to clean it out a bit. (The woman does have trouble letting things go. Seriously, this mattress hasn't been touched since we moved in - not even for guests.) And just having Rob around, not lifting a finger to help, as usual, and randomly biting people's heads off (even if it's not mine) is pissing me off. Really, it was so nice having the house mostly to ourselves for a week, sigh.
Did I mention that I apparently cannot deal with people today? Meh.