I thought this one was funny
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 color
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
mypreparation. 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-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with
lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter 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 humor, 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
liter 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 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 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?' 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,
and that my colon had passed with flying colors. 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?'
12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'
And the best one of all:
13.. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head
is not up there?
respect my authorita
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 color
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
mypreparation. 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-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with
lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter 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 humor, 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
liter 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 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 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?' 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,
and that my colon had passed with flying colors. 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?'
12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'
And the best one of all:
13.. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head
is not up there?
respect my authorita
