On Monday, I will reach (celebrate isn't quite the right word) a middle-aged milestone: I'll be getting my first colonoscopy.
I'm actually overdue by two and a half years--I was supposed to get my first at 50.
From everything I hear, the procedure itself isn't bad--I'll be knocked out. But I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, Sunday, when I can't eat anything, and eventually will have to start drinking junk that clears out my inner plumbing. Newspaper columnist Dave Barry once described it something like: Have you ever watched the space shuttle take off? Well, imagine your body is the space shuttle.
Two hours of martial arts class today, following one hour each of the preceeding three days. I had to finish by doing 100 pushups, which I completed in four sets, not the three I hoped. My arms feel like they're made out of lactic acid.