IT WAS C-DAY AGAIN

                                                 

Well this year was the year, when it was time once more for the dreaded colonoscopy. As each day before my appointment ticked off the clock I felt more defeated and apprehensive beyond my wildest fears. I said to myself “You did it once you can do it again so suck it up big guy”-- but it didn’t help. It’s not the loss of dignity that bothers me. It’s not the fact people are going where no one has ever gone before, except my mother and with a camera. It was the dreaded prep I feared.

I admit I was better prepared this time. Fresh glade roll ups in the bathroom. Tape over the cracks in the linen closet doors. Twelve new rolls of the softest tushy paper money could buy. A new magazine by the commode and I took the brick out of the water tank. We need all the water we can get. I had the septic pumping truck on standby and because you can have only clear liquids, a bottle of tequila on ice in the shower. Just to be safe I re-torqued the bolts that hold that appliance I would be sitting on, down to the floor. Bring on the bowel prep.

I am not sure what constitutes a lethal dose of bowel prep but I think what they prescribed for me was pushing the threshold. In fact I wasn’t sure I could safely get it all in the top end-- let it pass through the system and then-- out the back door. There was only one answer. A beer bong and standing on my head and hopefully nothing would emerge before I consumed it all because now down was up and up was down and gravity would---Aw you get the picture. The last time I drank 64 ounces of anything at one setting was a night at the Tickle Toe Tavern outside of Staples some fifty some years ago. Fortunately I passed out and don’t remember what happened. That unconscious bliss was not going to happen to me this time drinking spiked Gator-aid. If the Army at Guantanamo had used this procedure instead of water boarding, we would probably know a lot more about terrorists organizations then we know today.

They have done wonders today making artificial flavors that can make almost anything taste good. I once ate a raspberry Popsicle that that was pure white in. color. With that in mind, and knowing you can only have clear liquids before this procedure, the next time around I am hoping that they will have a glass of colorless liquid that will taste like a bacon double cheeseburger. It’s over now and for the next five years, I’m a free man. Once again I can sneak one out without worrying about soiling my clothing. Once again I can hook up my trousers and have my dignity back.

But now in all seriousness, I encourage all people to have this simple test. Dying from colon cancer is a thousand times worse than this. Though I like to jest about things like this, I want you all to be healthy and safe.