Today's adventure began with poop.
Gary had a colonoscopy scheduled for 11:30 today.
He had instructions on what to eat and when, and of course since he's all-or-nothing he decided to kick the doctor's orders up a notch. "Don't eat at all the day before" - well, how about don't eat TWO days before! That's how Gary rolls.
So of course, when he took the prep there was nothing in there but bile, because he has no gallbladder. Just a bilious slurry of broth, Propel, and clear energy drinks. I know he thought he would go clear and then at some point he would dry out, poor baby. Nope. He could not get out of the bathroom.
That's why we left for the colonoscopy an hour ahead of time: I figured we'd be stopping over and over. As it turned out, we only stopped the car twice - the last time at a grocery about half a mile away from our destination.
We stopped ... for good. Gary returned from the bathroom, reported success, I turned the key ...
Gary: I am not drinking that stuff again. We are GOING to that COLONOSCOPY.
We just hoofed it and got to the colonoscopy appointment with one minute to spare. He was being pretty bossy, and he ordered me home to get the other car, though I'm sure my tow truck idea would have been more efficient.
While Gary got scoped, I took a $40 taxi back home to get the other car, since he would be too drugged to drive home. Of course, I was halfway there before I realized I had no way to get in. No garage door opener, and the key I haven't used in five years is no longer in my purse. "It's fine," I thought, "I'll just use the Special Secret Key that is hidden outside."
I got there. Special Secret Key is gone. Raccoons must have taken it. "Noooo" I said for the second time that day.
I scrabbled, I searched, I planned to break a window - then I remembered Gary shoved some stuff into my pockets as I was leaving. Happily, he'd unloaded his wallet, glasses, phone, and thankfully - keys.
So Gary came through it all minus three tiny polyps and is snoring away at this moment. The car is still at the grocery, and I don't care. I don't think I'll care until this weekend, even.