Tomorrow I’m having a colonoscopy. From here on out we’re referring to it as The Test because c-o-l-o-n-o-s-c-o-p-y is too much to type. This has been scheduled since early last month. I let Steve and our son know and had already arranged for a friend to take me for the appointment. She’s not a morning person, yet, she’s picking me up at 7:15 tomorrow morning. What a friend!
Most of the time, Steve’s memory issues are not noticeable, but he sure can’t remember that I’m having The Test. It’s amazing! I would hate to have to assess Steve’s memory based on these incidents because it would look like he’d had a marked decline over night.
At one point we were discussing The Test and that my friend would be taking me. She could also take Steve with us because I thought that he would of course want to go since his wife was going to be having a medical procedure. When we discussed this again a couple of weeks ago, aside from having no knowledge of my going to have The Test, he asked if he needed to go. Our son told him that he HAD to go for “Mom’s appendectomy” which I then had to correct. At that point I realized it would probably be easier for Steve to stay home.
The track banquet was scheduled for this week. First it was scheduled for Friday, but had to be changed. I’m friends with the woman who was scheduling it and asked if she could schedule it for a night besides tonight. There is no way I could attend after drinking the stuff. I was very relieved when it was scheduled for last night, and told the family. Steve wanted to know why. Again I explained about The Test.
When I wrote out Steve’s calendar for this week, The Test is included on Friday so he’ll remember it. This week it has been a topic of discussion because I have planned the meals I cooked around what leftovers I could heat for them tonight since I wouldn’t be eating. The discussions have also included that tomorrow will be the first day we let our son drive to school. As you might imagine, this is BIG! To top it off, our son has to meet with a group for a school project. They’ll be meeting past 6:00, when I have to start drinking the stuff. We discussed that our son would be taking Steve’s car to meet with the study group at the high school.
Steve came home from the dentist today and it was the first time we’d both been here in seven hours. I’ve been on a liquid diet all day in preparation for The Test. It hasn’t been bad. Steve asked how my day had been and I said it hadn’t been bad considering I hadn’t eaten in preparation for The Test tomorrow. He did not seem to remember The Test. I reminded him that our son would be taking Steve’s car to his group meeting. Five minutes later, Steve said, “I know you’ve probably told me, but are you going somewhere tonight? What are we doing for dinner?”
I wasn’t a nice person when I responded. I told him I wasn’t going somewhere tonight because I can’t because I have to drink the stuff at 6:00. I’m not making dinner and frankly, I don’t care whether or not they eat. I had planned dinner for 5:00, but now our son won’t be home so when he gets home, they can heat leftovers or pick up fast food, but I didn’t think that would be a good time for me to be cooking something in the kitchen. Honestly, it was worded much, uh, stronger than that.
Sometimes we wonder what causes our outbursts. Not this time. I won’t even say it’s because I’m hungry because I’m not. I’m not looking forward to drinking the stuff in two hours or to The Test tomorrow, but really, that isn’t the problem either. The problem really is that my husband, the love of my life, can’t be the one to take me for The (stupid!) Test tomorrow and doesn’t even understand there’s a reason to be there. I don’t like realizing this and I don’t like how I responded.
As with other things I encounter on this journey, I have to learn from it and do a better job moving forward. It seems as if this time, The Test is involving a bit more than what it would seem and includes responding in a kinder, more loving manner. Hopefully, I’ll be able to improve my grade from my current “F-”.Related