visitors had complications due to the mechanism catching and tearing a fold in the lining of the colon. Great, a lifetime of unhealthy eating and I’m going to go because of an irregular fold. I nodded because I did seem to read something, but I didn’t worry about my odds since 50 was still young on the colonoscopy scale. The nurse team began setting up what looked like a black vacuum cleaner on wheels and I asked about the level of expected pain. He referenced the nurse again then turned on his heel for the door. I didn’t feel he was ignoring me, just that he’d had gone through the same routine so many times he wasn’t patient with aberrations. I continued to watch the set up and mused over some magazine photos before the doctor returned to inform me it was time.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll take good care of you. Just turn on your side.”
Thinking about the tearing of colon folds, I was very careful about the presentation of my ass, and carefully cupped my balls so they wouldn’t have to get involved.
“Most people just close their eyes after receiving the narcotic and don’t even remember having the process,” said the nurse, “but if you would like to watch what is going on, the monitor is right in front of you here.”
Ass tv? OMG! What will they think of next? As I noted the dimensions of the screen, I felt something slippery and it was in! No ready, set, go; just here’s Johnny! Suddenly the screen jumped to life with my pink curvy colon dancing in front of me and I felt as if Rachel Welch was sending back a live stream from a tiny submarine. Packets A and B had done all the dirty work alright, only a few pools of the yellowish liquid remained in hidden pockets. The camera explored those of interest, and sent out a jet of water to clear the view. I started to wonder what other toys could be strapped to a pencil width section of black hose. A death ray, a cork screw, or possibly baseball trading cards to bribe the small intestine? After a close examination of each cleared space, we were off again until reaching the next item of interest; a small encampment of Lord of the Rings goblins. Not really, but it sure looked like that scene with the goblin king in The Hobbit (part 1) without all the wood scaffolding. Could Gollum be far off? I silently wondered if Gollum’s colon looked like suburban Detroit.
There were three areas of interest to the doctor however. Each looked like a simple fold to me,
but to someone knowing where to look and what to look for, it generated concern. Before my eyes could focus, out came a tiny cable lasso snatching a section of fold before a cold white spray zapped the tissue and sucked it down another specialty tube. I gasped with amazement that such tiny tools could do so much before I remembered it was me. The hole in my colon was going home with me and there was no tiny band-aid coming out of the suction tube. The tube pressed on and made two more collection stops before finally reaching the end of the colon before retreating back to the black roller vacuum. The doctor left the monitor and stood by my bedside.
“That was absolutely fascinating,” I said. “The human body is so complex.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” came the reply. “We charge cable rates.”
Damn, all that time thinking about funny lines for the doctor, and SNAP! He gets me on the flipside. I smiled in recognition of the joke, as the rolling colon show moved out the door and onto the next patient. I felt a little like a car after an oil change, but was a bit relieved as I slid my shoes back on and the visit was officially over. I didn’t really feel the effects of the narcotic, but I still planned on honoring the agreement not to drive for the rest of the day. I felt it a bit more on the stairs, grabbing the railing as I headed out to the car and home.
I would return to work within’ a couple of hours, so had some time to consider the experience. I concluded this; men are weird about their asses.
Left Over
Year of 50 Christmas channelling Chevy.