It was a long, hot weekend that extended way, way into Monday.
Our mission was to get Ray ready for a colonoscopy, to be performed on Monday. He is having some memory problems and wiles away a lot of his time, looking for things he has misplaced. Currently on the "lost list" are his TV remote, his left hearing aid, and traditional places to store ones clothes. He's keeping his sox on the couch, seed caps on the dining table, pants under the bed. I don't know what's in his closet.
Our biggest challenge was talking Ray into drinking the gallon of gorp, the stuff that cleans out the system. He couldn't see any sense in that at all. We made it into a game, setting the timer for 10 minutes--"better drink it down, Ray, only 3 more minutes!", adding lemon flavoring, adding a shot of whiskey. He kept up until the stuff was over half gone, then gave it up.
Like most older folks, he's sensitive to cold. And defines cold as any temperature under 80. Fans create a draft. We suffered in short-sleeved T-shirts; he wore two long-sleeved shirst, buttoned to the neck.
Because we were down to one tiny foster kitten, her siblings having moved to the humane society's adoption floor, we brought her with us. The alternative was to leave her to the not-so-tender mercies of our three adult cats. They're not a welcoming crew so she would have been banished to a lonely room in the basement for the duration.
I was surprised (even I!) at how much joy this little creature brought to me as I watched her chase after flies, barrel up and down the hallway, sleep soundly stretched out between us in bed. She'll be gone by the end of the week, following her siblings to the adoption floor. I'll miss her.
The good news from the weekend was that Ray's colon was pronounced to be in good shape. The doctor also did an endoscopy and found some ulcers on his esophagus and stomach which are probably the cause of his anemia. Biopsies were done and more than likely, treatment will be either antibiotics or an acid-reduction therapy.