The Colon Chronicles: Gone With the Wind

This will be a story with a happy ending.

When men reach their half-century mark here on planet Earth, their doctors start to remind them of their mortality by pushing for a colon exam. When I landed with a new doctor a few months ago here in Snyder, I was told that I was two years delinquent. So, a colonoscopy was scheduled.

Now, I have some rather firm opinions when it comes to my behind. I count seven openings on the human body…none of which designated as intake manifolds….and the colon is definitely designed for exhaust purposes.

My visit to the hospital for a preliminary visit with the nursing staff was somewhat disappointing. I was given a piece of paper with 48 hours worth of instructions and told to report bright on a Friday morning for my exam. Now here’s where my sister and I disagree. I call it an operation because anesthesia is involved, you are put into an “operating room” and there are nurses and doctors involved. She contends it is not an operation unless a knife is involved and cutting occurs. I will not win the argument so---like Fox News---I merely report----You decide.

Day one was difficult because I am diabetic and I worked all day not able to eat anything. I used apple juice to keep the blood sugar up and I wasn’t pleasant. By the evening hours, I would have killed for a piece of cheese….a crust of bread. In fact, while talking to the hound out back…I nearly grabbed away his beggin’ strip. The bacon smell nearly forced me to fold.

Day two involves drinking a lemon lime magnesium drink all afternoon followed by a trio of laxative pills.

Oh momma….that on top of no food made me as miserable as I can recall…..ever. I was supposed to go to a church meeting…and then to a college basketball game. The best I could do is pray and listen to the game over the radio in the chummy confines of one of our bathrooms. Fortunately, Carol was working. She would have been compassionate, but compassion only goes so far.

On the morning of the OPERATION, I arrived at the hospital, disrobed, climbed onto a gurney and was told to get into a fetal position. I get into that position regularly after a typical day at work. The fetal position is where I do my best thinking.

While discussing the weather with a nurse….I lost focus….then started to ask about the next step.

“You are done,” she said. “What? I don’t remember anything,” I responded. Truly it was that easy. Carol was there and got me home where I mauled a box of cereal and passed out for the afternoon.

It wasn’t that bad if you can just endure the prep. I got a clean bill of health…a clean colon….and don’t have to offer it again to a doctor for five more years. I could be the poster boy for good colon health.

I also lost six pounds. Maybe a little Magnesium cocktail now and then could help the waistline…

I hope this account will help you prepare for the inevitable visit to the butt doctor.

The end.