Well… Last Breakfast would be more like it, but Last Supper sounds so much more dramatic.

It’s the Last Breakfast because tomorrow afternoon – 2pm to be exact – I go in for my colonoscopy. Yes, it’s Roto-Rooter time.

Low-residue until 1pm, clear liquids until 7pm, and then real fun begins. A gallon of Golytely split between tonight and tomorrow morning.

Golytely. Really. Who named this stuff? I hear that and immediately think Holly Golightly from Bathrooms at Tiffany’s.

Golytely. As if.

I don’t know how many of you have ever had the pleasure of a colonoscopy, but they’re a necessity over 50 and earlier with family history. My paternal grandfather died of colon cancer in 1953 when I was only 14 months old. My Uncle Tom – one of the greatest guys to ever walk this planet – died of colon cancer in 1987. Grandpa was 59, Uncle Tom was 65. They were still kids.

I’m 64 and I sure as hell ain’t ready to go. There are just soooo many people I haven’t annoyed yet. I need years and years. So in I go.

I’ve had quite a few of them over the years, starting when I was 40. The procedure itself is painless. You’re knocked out and the Doctor just does his work. I usually wake up right away with a feeling of euphoria. Great drugs! It’s the prep work that’s a pain. You need to be completely cleaned out and the process isn’t the most pleasant thing one can do – especially if it’s spread over 2 days like mine will be.

The only difficult part, really, is the drinking of the solution. 64 ounces in 2 hours. That doesn’t sound like a lot – hell, back in the day that was beer and shots on any given weekend – but with this stuff, it starts getting old by the third glass. By glass number 8, you’re done. And then I get to do it all over again in the morning. Oh, joy.

But… if it’s going to keep me around a bit longer to keep getting into trouble, it’s worth it.

Golytely. That name still gets me.