Drugs are good

The colonoscopy was clear. I'm not as full of shit as I (and probably everyone around me) thought I was. Sunday was terrible, far worse than the actual procedure. Adrian's sisters came over to watch football and they brought loads of great food, none of which I could eat. All I could do was drink my laxatives, which were thoroughly disgusting, and run off to the back bathroom every now and then. Of the procedure itself, all I remember was somebody wheeling me on a gurney down the hall, then Adrian waking me up and saying it was time to go home.
I slept most of Monday, after eating a hamburger and taking an Oxycodone, then Adrian and Vicki and I went out to Hoover's for supper, Amy's for ice cream and then visited some head shops. A nice evening, but I conked out relatively early.