Well thank God that's over.
Last month I changed medical practices and got a new doctor. To celebrate our tender, fresh relationship, he went on a spree of ordering tests for me. It all seemed rather one-sided to me; I didn't make him trot off to some waiting room for yet another intrusive procedure. But you know what a good sport I am, so I just went along with all his foolishness. A hearing test, a bone density test, a cardiac stress test, it seems like there is no end to them. He seemed sort of disappointed that I get regular eye exams so he couldn't order one for me.
Naturally, since I am an old man, one of the screenings was for a colonoscopy, everyone's favorite medical procedure. I've had two of these before and since they had turned up no problems, I was willing to skate along without another one, but the new doctor insisted. In fact it seemed sort of like some kind of fetish, but I refuse to yuck someone's yum, and so this week saw me prepping for my close up yesterday.
I'm not going to linger on the prep details. You have to fast, you have to drink a gallon of this nasty glop, and you have to poop your brains out. It all went from a dribble to a squirt to some kind of natural disaster, but let us draw a veil of silence over any more specifics. More than anything, I was struck by how complicated the directions were this time. I don't remember being so confused about how all the rules and schedules worked before. As I said, you poop your brains out, so all the detailed timeline I had to work with just seemed like overkill. Poop will out.
But eventually all things pass, right? I overcame the fasting, the pooping, the confusion, and suddenly there I was on a gurney in the procedure room with my skinny old man ass bare to the world and the anesthesiologist getting ready to pump the good stuff in. I made some remark about the very odd music they were playing, like some kind of Temu EDM and that's the last thing I remember. That's the thing about colonoscopies, they always come with a free session of amnesia. The next thing I knew I was riding in my friend Aaron's car, a brief fragment of memory which was immediately followed by another blank spot. After that, I suddenly found myself eating pizza at my computer. How I ordered and paid for the delivery is beyond me; I only hope I was wearing pants when I went down to the lobby to get it.
I have no idea what they found up in my Grotto of the Unknown, the doctor is supposed to let me know later this week. What I do know is that I am never going through another one because I plan on going to my grave without ever letting someone take a peek inside my butthole again. Never.
Medically necessitated naked guys:
You don't want to let anyone peek inside your butt again? Why? Was this colonoscopy too much fun?
ReplyDelete(Hello Carlos.)
Anonymous, too
A friend of mine was told to get a colonoscopy at age 77. He was going to skip it but had it. He had colon cancer which was successful treated. You never know.
ReplyDeleteWithin the year he also had quadruple bypass surgery on his heart. The clogged arteries were discovered when he had a cat scan for the hip replacement he wanted to have done. After he had the heart work done and recovered he had his hip replacement.
Geriatric life is so surprising.
Ah yes, the dreaded colonoscopy. I had mine without anaesthetic, it took ages manoeuvring all the corners until they squirted air in to ease the camera's passage - and I watched all of this on the camera's monitor, farting all the way. Afterwards, the doctor asked it I was OK - to which I replied: "Well, I've been to better parties..." Jx
ReplyDeletePS I think I probably would have enjoyed it more if it was #2, or indeed "Hello, Carlos!"