Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Oh! Ho! That Was Fun!!

I'm not sure whether to post this in the form of a public service announcement a la Katie Couric, or the usual tongue in cheek (um, suddenly that sounds really bad) humor associated with this standard medical procedure. Heh, if I really wanted to spoil your appetites, I'd throw in the 8x10 color glossies with the circles and arrows that document this "three hour tour." Instead, just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip. Fortunately for me, the brave mate here was my beloved husband. I was just the designated driver.

I'm told it "really wasn't all that bad," and given the possible alternative of undetected colon cancer, I'd say that's a pretty hearty endorsement to jist git 'er done.

It goes something like this...

First, you starve yerself for a day and then you gather up all the necessary supplies, starting with a couple small bottles of Plumber's Helper* concentrate (and maybe some Depends). Begin slugging this down at about 7:00 pm the night before "the procedure." Spend the rest of the night wishing you could just have your bowels removed but instead spend the night on the toilet. Swig down the last of this stuff at about 5 am, three hours before the deed, and spend the rest of the morning moaning and sitting on the toilet.

Next, show your wife the doctor's note that proves that yes, she really does have to drive you there and wait for the duration and then drive you home and spend the rest of the day with you. This is humiliating and it takes precious time out of your wife's busy schedule, but how many opportunities do you have like this? Don't lose this note when the doctor gives it to you, or else your wife will tell you to jist drive yerself and spend the night in the hospital if you have to, to sober up.

Next, load up pillows and such in the car just in case you have to ride home in the prone position. This probably won't be necessary as it turns out but you can't be too prepared.On the way to the hospital, ask your wife to "please hurry" because, well, you're not sure that everyone has had a chance to "exit the building" yet.

Check into the hospital, sit down in the private admitting room so no one else can hear the overly friendly "digestive unit staff" asking you all those private questions, like "Who are your next of kin?" And "Do you have a living will?" and "If you have to spend the night, would you like to be visited by the clergy?" Now start to wonder if you'll make it out of the hospital alive and begin praying that clergy won't be necessary, but also be thankful that they're available if needed.

Then wait...and wait...and wait...

Finally, when your name is called, give your wife a kiss because this might be your last chance. Then try not to slap her when she tells you to "have fun." [hey, I was just copying the 85 year old man sitting next to me who wished the same to his elderly wife...we thought it was cute]

Then comes the "fun" part. No, really. Next comes La-La Land. Just as the doctor finishes explaining how he plans to insert the gastroenterologist's equivalent of an All-Purpose Swiss Army Knife (equipped with camera, lights, blow torch, laser, lasso, and a broom) and an industrial sized air compressor up your you-know-what, you drift off. Ahhh, none of that scary stuff matters anymore because you are on some serious hallucinogens and have already begun dreaming of sailing away to the South Pacific, and are seeing pink dancing dolphins and flying fish.

The next thing you'll remember is babbling to the nurse, or is it your wife? You're not sure which, but you're in between the South Pacific and downtown Detroit about now. A little too pleasant, a little agitated. The nurse will tell you to "feel free to fart." You wonder if this is a professional thing to say. Your wife will tell you that you look like Violet in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, what with all that air pumped in since she last saw you. Ignore your wife and follow the nurse's instructions.

Wait for the nurse to issue her release command, accept your photos graciously (thankfully, you've no food in your stomach to come up, otherwise, you could not be held accountable for what might happen upon being forced to look at the inside of your colon) and then bolt out of the hospital as fast as you can, refusing to sit in the wheelchair escort for fear this might further reduce your manhood. You'd rather not think about what has just happened to you.

Tell your wife you are hungry and want an extra-extra large manly bowl of War Won-ton soup at the Chinese restaurant, but you'll have to take it home to eat because you have been overinflated and need a safe place to decompress.

Once the sedatives have worn off and the air has been released, you will feel good as new. Surprisingly, there is no painful evidence of all the work that was just done to your nether regions.

So there you have it. Just do it! It's good for you. :-)


* Just kidding! Do not drink this! It will kill you!!

10 Comments:

At 5:24 AM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Rach said...

Just letting you know that I popped by as per usual ;). Thought I better stop doing it so silently hehe.

 
At 6:03 AM, June 01, 2006, Anonymous Brian said...

Um ... yuk.

Couldn't you maybe starve yourself for *two* days instead of staying up all night on the potty?

I will have that question at hand, should this procedure be in my future...

 
At 6:22 AM, June 01, 2006, Blogger beth said...

Wow. I thought the whole flatulence discussion was the bottom of the barrel...but wow. Anyway as a PSA goes, it's good, because well, colon cancer is one of the most treatable cancers out there if you catch it early so it's worth the humiliation.

I had the pleasure of taking mom to hers cause dad was out of town on business. Such fun.

 
At 8:17 AM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Gwynne said...

Beth, the way I saw it, the other discussion just prepared me for this. ;-)

Brian, I think this procedure should be in everyone's future, if we live past 50. All we can do is grin and bear it, I think. 8-}

Rachel, thanks for being faithful, in spite of my dalliances into disgusting territory. ;-)

 
At 9:16 AM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Eric said...

Well, as someone who is Of An Age and must contemplate this in the near future, let me just thank you sincerely for, well, nothing.

Actually, there's a whole gang of us who are contemplating booking a "group tour," if we can just find a designated driver. This falls in the category of "misery loves company," I think, but it might have the not inconsiderable benefit of yielding a post or two that will set new standards.

 
At 9:26 AM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Gwynne said...

Maybe then you can get a group rate. ;-)

My whole point (really, there was one, and it wasn't just to set new standards in blog posting) was that, according to someone who hates, hates, hates hospitals, doctors, needles, and things inserted where they don't belong, it was NOT that bad. :-)

That said, I do NOT look forward to the day my name is called. ;-)

 
At 4:34 PM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Badoozie said...

hmmmmmmmmmmmm, any chance they can give you a "pre-op" sedative? just to get you through the bathroom stuff? make it a little funner? i mean, whats it going to kill them its just ONE stupid little white tablet, they act like it's a freaking bar of gold. why is there needless suffering in this world, when we have sedatives. i don't get it.
i'm sure you would have been happy to hold him propped on the pot, while he experienced the south pacific???? cause YOU"RE NEXT

 
At 4:50 PM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Princess Jami said...

Hee. "Tongue in cheek".
"Feel free to fart now".

This was too funny, Gwynne. We shall see how I laugh when it's my turn in about 20 years. ;-)

 
At 6:03 PM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Ellen said...

Some of us have a rather odd idea of "fun"...

I remember the CT scan that involved the barium drink...

my husband came home after the test and "felt free to fart". My son said something to the effect, "did you know that barium burns green?" All we could think of was lighting farts...

 
At 6:20 PM, June 01, 2006, Blogger Gwynne said...

Susie, something tells me a sedative and Draino don't go well together. ;-) Eeuww, don't make me go there!

Jami, in 20 years, there will probably be some non-invasive way to accomplish all of this...maybe you won't even have to leave your home. Let's hope, anyway. :-)

Ellen, LOL...that sounds an awful lot like something John Belushi did in Animal House. Sometimes we just have to make "fun" where we find ourselves. ;-)

 

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