If you ever had a colonoscopy or are planning on one, you can't miss this one!!!
ABOUT
THE WRITER
Dave
Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humour columnist
for the Miami Herald.
Colonoscopy Journal:
I
called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
appointment for a colonoscopy.
A
few days later, in his office, 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 for a
product 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 flavor.
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 your 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 apologise 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 got 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
around there 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 realised 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?' said 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
excellent.
I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, a
nd that my colon had passed with flying colours.
I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
On
the subject of Colonoscopies...
Colonoscopies
are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous.....
A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his
patients
(predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:
1.
'Take
it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!'
2.
'Find
Amelia Earhart yet?'
3.
'Can
you hear me NOW?'
4.
'Are
we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5.
'You
know, in Arkansas , we're now legally
married.'
6.
'Any
sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7.
'You
put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8.
'Hey!
Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9.
'If
your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!'
10.
'Hey
Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11.
'You
used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
And
the best one of all:
12.
'Could
you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'