I am in hell. I made it just fine fasting all day. I'm hungry, but tolerably so. I forgot to start drinking water until about one o'clock this afternoon, but I made up for it, so I am sure I'm in the clear. The real horribleness came about two hours ago, and it was even worse than I remembered from the last time I had to do this. I'm fairly certain Satan ate a hundred thousand Pixy Stix and then regurgitated them into my mouth. I never, ever consume anything with artificial sweeteners in it, and the prep I had to drink used enough Sucralose to kill an army. It took a full hour to choke it down, even after diluting it twice and squeezing half a lemon into it to make it slightly more sour. I used every foul curse I know, and I begged to die. I spent the hour after that combing the internet for any flimsy excuse I could find to justify not taking the second dose tomorrow morning. I didn't find one, but I don't know where I'm going to find the maturity to take this again. I read that there exists a pill version of the prep (a prescription, not the Gatorade and laxative method). If ever I must do this again, and I will, because I plan on living past age 50, I will demand the pill. I don't care if I have to chase it with two gallons of water, I am not going to let someone force this elixir of hell upon me ever again.
I am not going to offer up any more details. You can imagine all you want, but I doubt my reality is nearly as bad as you would expect it to be. The only part, and I mean the only part, that is difficult about this whole procedure is swallowing the prep liquid. Now that you and I both know a pill exists, there is no excuse for you to dread this or delay it when your time comes.
Now if you will excuse me, I am going back to my happy place. Calming thoughts of blue skies and animals who love me...
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