Many
thanks to Carolyn ~ sending this 'Journal' just for those
who
are in great anticipation of this soothingly funny procedure!
About
the Writer:
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-Winning humour columnist
for the Miami Herald who wrote...
Colonoscopy
Journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, Andy showed me a
colour diagram of the colon...a lengthy organ that appears to go all
over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said
because my brain was shrieking:
HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!
I
left Andy's office with some written instructions and a prescription
called 'MoviPrep'
which
comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss
'MoviPrep'
in
detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it
to fall into the hands of America's enemies. I spent the next
several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then
on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In
accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that
day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with
less flavour. Then in the evening, I took the MoviPrep.
You
mix two packets of powder together in a one-litre plastic jug...then
you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the
metric system, a litre is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink
the whole jug. This takes about an hour because MoviPrep
tastes...and here I am being kind...like a mixture of goat spit and
urinal cleanser with just a hint of lemon.
The
instructions for MoviPrep,
clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humour, state that
after you drink it, a
loose watery bowel movement may result. This
is kind of like saying that after you jump off the roof, you may
experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep
is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but
have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the
MoviPrep
experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish
the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much
confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate
everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you
have to drink another litre of MoviPrep,
at
which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future
and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
The
next morning, my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous.
Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been
experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep
spurtage. I was thinking, “What if I spurt on Andy?” How do you
apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be
enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I
understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said.
Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I
went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put
on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the
kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than
when you are actually naked.
Then
a nurse, named Eddie, put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
Ordinarily, I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good...and I was
already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in
their MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I
pondered what would happen if you get yourself too tipsy to make it
to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose
Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room,
where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did
not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden
somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll
over on my left side and the anesthesiologist began hooking something
up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room...and I realized that the song
was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the
songs that could be playing during this particular procedure,
'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate. “You want me to
turn it up?” asked Andy from somewhere behind me...“Ha ha” I
said. And then it was time...the moment I had been dreading for more
than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am
going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I
have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment ABBA was
yelling, 'Dancing
Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine' and
the next moment I was back in the other room, waking up in a very
mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt.
I felt even more excellent when Andy told me it was all over, and
that my colon had passed with flying colours. I have never been
prouder of an internal organ!
On the subject of Colonoscopies...these are no joke. Andy told me of
actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he
was performing their colonoscopies.
At the end, my friend, Carolyn comments,
“I
thought this was cute, especially since this is my son's profession.”
The Snotty Receptionist
An older gentleman had an appointment to see the neurologist who
shared offices with several other doctors. The waiting room, full of
patients, he approached the receptionist's desk, and noticed that
the receptionist was a large unfriendly woman who looked like a Sumo
wrestler. He gave her his name.
In a very loud voice, she said, “YES, I HAVE YOUR NAME HERE; YOU
WANT TO SEE THE DOCTOR ABOUT IMPOTENCE, RIGHT?
All the patients in the waiting room snapped their heads around to
look at the very embarrassed man. He recovered quickly...and in an
equally loud voice, replied, “NO, I'VE COME TO INQUIRE ABOUT A
SEX CHANGE OPERATION...BUT I DON'T WANT THE SAME DOCTOR THAT DID
YOURS!”
The room erupted in applause.
Merle Baird-Kerr...written May 5, 2015
To comment...email...inezkate@gmail.com or mbairdkerr@cogeca.ca