I didn’t feel a thing. The colonoscopia is done and gone and I don’t know how many years will pass before I have to do it again. Everything was perfect. Better than it’s ever been. It must be this Spanish living.
The preparation this time was the easiest I’ve had and although I didn’t get much sleep Thursday night, that was more a result of my busy brain than anything else.
San Geraldo didn’t touch my truffles and he even managed to save me some (a lot more than some) Jamaican Black Cake.
Thanks for all the moral support — and comic relief. I’m fit as a fiddle (but I still can’t play one).
