It was the third time that evening that he soiled himself, and the nursing assistant scolded him. “Why didn’t you press the call button, Randy?” she said with the voice of a kindergarten teacher.
“I tried,” he said. It wasn’t Randy’s fault he soiled himself, and it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t reply well. He did not seem to be very quick mentally, and the tests and medications he was being put through and on surely didn’t help.
I lay in my bed on the other side of the curtain, praying I would never have to suffer the indignity he did.
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Man, I hope you didn't get what I had to do. They hand you a small plastic container and say 'we need a stool sample'
Oooh! No, I didn't have to do that, but they did give me a gallon jug of this salty-chalky liquid and told me to drink it all within a few hours so that it'd completely clear my tract…
That still sounds better than the blocker for CT scans . . . unless that's what it was
Cleanser for a colonoscopy, but yeah, it probably was better.