Newsletter 29 July 2000

Colon What???

Hey all!

Well, where do I begin?  We have been stuck here in California for the past three months!  OK, there are worse places to be stuck, I know!  The weather here is wonderful.  We have seen no rain but twice, and the temperatures are always cool with almost no humidity.  So why do I say stuck?  Well, from January to June we were working.  Then we move a few hours south, and I decided to catch up on some physicals etc. while I'm waiting to move on to my next position.

Warning!  the following deals with embarrassing, HIGHLY PERSONAL areas of my personal body, and all kinds of medical stuff that the Doctors have invented strictly to go where no person has gone before-at least not with me! The following diatribe contains descriptions and big medical words that may offend faint-hearted wimmins.  It is intended to scientifically inform and describe HIGHLY PERSONAL procedures for other good ol boys that may be hesitant to allow medical professionals, with real diplomas and scrub suits, to use highly delicate instruments resembling a roto-rooter to boldly go where no man has allowed them to go before!  Then maybe the guys will know what to expect, and see it is not so bad.  There is even a contest at the end, which title I won in the local run-off (no pun intended.)  If you are easily offended, please skip ahead to the line that says:

END OF HIGHLY PERSONAL MEDICAL STUFF

Before I know what's happening, they zero in on my age and tell me it's time to take a peek at the ol colon!  Accck! So I get scheduled for a sigmoidoscopy.  Now I was assured that the procedure is not uncomfortable, and only involves taking a look to be sure that there are no LIFE THREATENING growths growing where the sun don't shine!  LIFE THREATENING!  Ever notice how all those really embarrassing things that they do to ya are always LIFE THREATENING?  Heck, they wouldn't get anyone to let em mess around with HIGHLY PERSONAL areas like they were proposing to do, unless they scare ya with it being something like "LIFE THREATENING!"  Of course I told them that all my plumbing was fine and couldn't we get away with something a little more fun like, say, an x-ray or something??  I was even willing to let them draw some blood if they absolutely, positively, thought they could avoid messing around with HIGHLY PERSONAL areas.  

The Doc gave me that look.  You know, the "I have seen many HIGHLY PERSONAL areas on lots of people, and what's the big deal?" look.   So he had me go change in another room. 

Now I have to ask myself, if that HIGHLY PERSONAL area is no big deal, then why do I have to go in another room to change?  Everyone in the room was going to assist or actually insert things into my HIGHLY PERSONAL area as soon as I change into the "gown" they have sadistically modified to provide a sneak preview of HIGHLY PERSONAL AREAS to everyone in the hallway! 

So to avoid a LIFE THREATENING possibility, I decided to look at this as the same as an initiation.  You know, even if the "initiation" involved embarrassing or HIGHLY PERSONAL areas, it was all in fun, and wasn't even remotely connected to LIFE THREATENING situations, then it was OK.  Right?  However there were no "refreshments" (read alcoholic beverages) involved nor offered to temporarily make me feel that others viewing HIGHLY PERSONAL areas a part of the overall "ambiance" of a college night out. (you know, the kind that jolts you about 2 minutes after you wake up, as you dimly remember that the night before involved lampshades, Cap'n Crunch cereal, shaving cream, and someone named Lola!  I remember one frat party where they actually rented a   . . . . . ummm, never mind! ) 

ANYWAY . . . .I unenthusiastically cooperated and they scheduled it for the following week.

They gave me a prescription for the "prep."  Now it was looking easier as they only gave me three bottles of stuff to drink.  One was sodium citrate soda in a glass 12 oz bottle.  The other two were Fleets-something that were in cool sports bottles with spouts and everything!  OK this was gonna be easy.  I got home and showed them to my significant harassment.   She gave me the spousal stare as I regaled her with my fearless abilities to face strangers doing procedures in HIGHLY PERSONAL areas. 

She kept looking at the sports drinks and shaking her head with that smile . . . you know the one, the look that is always followed by revelations that you didn't need to know? 

“OK” she chuckled, and proceeded to read the directions on the "sports drinks" package to herself, checking me out the whole time with the one eye raised big smile. 

I of course, being a manly kind of guy, hadn't needed to look at the directions.  Darned if I'd read em now (while she was in the room-but as soon as she left, maybe I'd better just peek!)  Accck!  You don't want to know.  I couldn't believe it!  The less said the better.

So I had it down.  Drink the soda at four the day before.  No problem!  But the other two, well, suffice it to say that you don't want to make any plans during a "prep" that involves being more than, oh, say, 12" from your friendly local bathroom.

By the time I got to the clinic, at O-Dark-thirty, having slept in a sitting position, all night, (I actually read two Michner novels, and all the shampoo and mouthwash bottles to boot,) I didn't care if they removed my HIGHLY PERSONAL areas! 

Lynn woke up long enough to grin and remind me about the "sports drinks."  I'm not even going there.  They should knock you out, and then take care of all that stuff while you are unconscious and will never remember anything, (except maybe a dream involving someone named Lola!)

I showed up and sure enough they gave me the same kinda gown that I saw this year on the academy awards!  Except this was on me, not a female star and it showed just as much but was backwards.  I am sure it was not a pretty sight. 

They got me in the room and then I saw a four-foot tube that they were preparing to . . . . use on me!  Well, before I knew it they had the HIGHLY PERSONAL part over and moved a TV screen so I could see . . . .me! 

Hey this was cool!  Everything was live and I didn't feel a thing!  Then they stopped and pointed out that the "bump" on the screen was a "polyp."  I asked if that was good or bad?  Hey! There's no pain and it was like watching it happen to a stranger.  They said it could be OK or bad.  Accccck! 

Then they gave me the news . . . .you just bought yourself a full colonoscopy!  Seems that when they find a polyp they have to check the whole thing, again!  With a bigger roto rooter!

Well they biopsied the polyp and scheduled me for another "procedure."  Except this time they would give me some "cocktails" and I would not be fully awake for it.  YES! 

And no more "sports drinks" either! 

OK I could deal.  They gave me another scrip for a "prep"  they called "Go lightly."  I got the scrip filled and there was a gallon jug in this one.  Well, you can bet I read the directions before I got home this time! (My significant harassment is still chuckling over the "sports drinks.")  Hey!  I only had to drink this “Prep”.  No problem, 8 oz every fifteen minutes.  A beer is 12 oz and I can do that easy!

OK, never assume that 8 oz of a given liquid can be forced down every 15 minutes.  This stuff was pineapple flavored and some sadist told me it is easier to down with crystal light added to it.  Not!  I tried the first one plain and then added the crystal light-not smart!  It went from neutral and tasteless, to barely able to scarf it down.  (and I have scarfed down some nasty beers and ales in my time!) 

My significant harassment caught me pouring the last third of that glass down the drain and gave me the "Aha!  Caught ya “look!  From that point on she pulled out the egg timer and watched me drink every drop every 15 minutes!  Sheesh!  Significant harassments have to do all kinds of HIGHLY PERSONAL procedures just because of their membership in the opposite persuasion, and boy do they love it when it's our turn! 

I was also on clear liquids and could only have chicken and beef broth for dinner.  Didja ever have to have broth for dinner?  I drank the first can and then said "hey! That's not bad!  I can make it through this easy!”  But a few minutes later I was hungry again and drank another can of broth, then, what the hey!  I drank all eight of them! 

That wasn't a great idea in hindsight (no pun intended.)  See, now I was full of broth when I started trying to drink the gallon in under three hours, under the caring and watchful eye of my significant harassment (who I saw through my fluid bloated haze as “Helga”-in leather, cracking a whip, and insisting-“drink, drink, Ve haff vays to make you drink!”)

That night, I read "War and Peace" (Twice!) as I tried to sleep in the comfort of my friendly local bathroom! 

By the time I showed up (driven there by my significant harassment-they said I needed to be driven home because there were “cocktails” involved) they were ready with the “gown” again, but this time I put two on!  Hah!  One in back too! My significant harassment was too smug and I was sure she had the digital camera hidden somewhere to record my “gown” and pass prints out in the RV Park.  (Since the last “procedure”, every time I walked by the laundry room, [where all the members of  The WPA - “The Wimmins Pertektive Association” gather in an RV park,] they’d all giggle, point at me, and mention “sports drinks”)  Sheesh!  Get a life!   

They got me on a table and started an IV.  Now this was more like it-drugs!  The nurse told me that I would only be “lightly sedated” to offset any discomfort from the air they were going to pump in.  Air?  Pump in?  Just as she started the “cocktails” I noticed what looked like 40 feet of telephone cable being unrolled by another nurse who winked at my significant harassment! Accck!  The WPA!  Then I faded out. 

I was dreaming of frogs.  I could hear em croaking as I floated back to consciousness.  I looked around and there were several other guys on tables in the “recovery” room.  But I kept hearing the frogs???  Then a bright and smiling face appeared in front of me saying it was OK, just let it go.  Huh?  Then he reminded me that I was full of air.  WHAT?  Was he saying what I thought he was????  Those weren’t frogs!  Acccck!  Some things are only meant to be shared with your family!  And only after someone pulls your finger! 

Oh well, I joined the chorus and pretended I was in that scene from “Blazing Saddles.”  I won!

My significant harassment was waiting for me as I finally walked out and was back in my real clothes.  The Doc came in and told us they had found two more “polyps” and that the tests on em would be back the following week.  They had cut out all three.  She was more concerned than I was.  (I was still grinning from the “cocktails”)  Then the Doc got my attention! I couldn’t believe what I thought he just told me!  I stared in shock, as he slowly repeated . . . “No Beers for 24 hours!”  Acccck! 

As we drove home I was regaling my significant harassment with how it was a “piece O’ cake!  And boy was I hungry!  And could she pull my finger??

END OF EMBARRASSING HIGHLY PERSONAL MEDICAL STUFF

The tests came back with no Cancer, but two of the polyps were adenomas.  Pre-cancerous, but not cancer.  The doc told me that I could possibly have had cancer if I had waited till I was 50, like most do, to have my HIGHLY PERSONAL areas inspected.  Wow!  Another case of the G.A.s (Guardian Angels) doing their usual last minute save!  Now I will have to do it every three years.  I’ll have to start getting in shape to defend my recovery room championship title.

Dg

(Disclaimer: The preceding highly scientific and technical article, with big medical  words and all,  was intended to inform guys about HIGHLY PERSONAL procedures, that we only do under duress from the WPA in most cases, and to alleviate any misconceptions they may have about them.  The opinions expressed herein are strictly the objective observations and responsibility of three winged monkeys and Bogart The Wonder Dog, who are solely responsible for their content.)