No dialogue, just an appointment

for October 15, a Monday--that was the result with yesterday's meeting with the Internal Medicine Specialist. He did not take "no" for an answer---told me that I would feel better once the procedure was over. I feel trapped. October 15 is a long time from now, and the fact that the prep day is on a Sunday makes it easier to get support from friends, but I feel completely locked in. The doctor was not interested in my point of view. I try look at it from the point of view from the two doctors who saw me, and I suppose their demand that I get the colonoscopy makes sense.After all, it was me who came to them with the problem (since last night, much relieved) And others that I know of all ages have easily come through the procedure, and are exactly the same (maybe better) then when they took it. Still, imagining the day before is difficult for me. What if I am overcome by hunger? How will I deal with all the "evacuation". I was just given instructions and told to report the next morning. Already friends have offered me support. I still have a lot of time to process and discuss this. Let's see what happens.
  Last night--despite the gloomy feelings, I went to La Flaca to watch part of the Yankee-Texas game and to hang out among friendly bartenders and waitresses. That turned out to be a good deal as bartender Sam (Samantha) and Giselle, the night waitress were very warm and friendly. The game got pretty boring early (no surprise in this year's American League pennant races) so I left around 8:30 and walked around. My body was tired but needed the exercise---not ready to return home. I walked  north on Essex, then east to first, then east again to second avenue, and stopped off at the Bean for some coffee. This gave me a chance to continue reading Rachel Kushner's novel the Mars Room, which continues to impress me with its vision and control. The Bean is a good place to stop; I like the young energy that comes from the people around and the baristas who work there. Walk continued to Broadway and 8th street where I finally took the subway, and returned home pretty tired.
  This evening I will try to see Amina Henry's play at JACK---might be the only play I see in a while, even though there are some interesting ones out there. Let's see how this plays out---rest of the weekend pretty open, lots of movies around-also might join a friend named Robert who goes out every Sunday to 117th street and Park Avenue to distribute flyers detailing vicious tactics of a landlord who has bought several buildings in the area and of course is harassing his low paying tenants into leaving. Will this kind of thing never end? Will the young people every rise up and walk away. But where will they go?
Will report tomorrow.