charlie (ky)
New member
Dave Barry's 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, quote,
'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-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 seatbelt. 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
is, 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.
ABOUT THE WRITER
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, quote,
'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-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 seatbelt. 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
is, 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.
ABOUT THE WRITER
