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  • Just When You Begin To Think You Can Write...

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  • This is my Blog...There are many like it, but this one is mine...

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        Monday, June 23, 2008

    Just When You Begin To Think You Can Write... read something like this. I have no idea who wrote it, it was sent to me in email, and oh my, can I ever relate. Enjoy:


    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,

    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-liter
    plastic jug, and 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' has 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
    shrieking 'Dancing Queen! Feel the beat from 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.


    A commenter tells me that this is part of a Dave Barry column. Figures.