To Boldly Go…
A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO my doctor decided that I needed to have a Colonoscopy. Are you familiar with that most fun of all medical procedures? This where they insert a camera … A CAMERA… up into your body through your rectum to look for “anything unusual”. If you can look up into someone’s butt and know that something is “unusual,” you’ve been doing that for much too long.
For two days beforehand you take enough laxative to flush out the Grand Canyon. It’s one heck of a way to lose weight. I think I crapped all of my internal organs. When my wife tapped on my tummy and she swore she heard an echo.
When we got to the hospital they gave me, frankly, the best drugs I’ve had since college. I was so stoned they could have shoved a lawnmower up my butt and I wouldn’t have complained – or even noticed.
So, there I am, lying on a table, my butt hanging out, open to the wind, when I hear this female voice behind me. She says that she will be doing “the procedure” and asks me if I’m OK. I told her that I thought that she and I should at least have had dinner and a movie first. Her only response was, “Fire in the hole!”
It didn’t really hurt. I guess the closest thing I could equate to the sensation would be – imagine if your dentist tried to do a root canal taking the scenic route through your foot and stopped off to admire the view and get some souvenirs.
I learned later that the official name of the instrument they used is an “upyourbuttascope.” And they are not just looking around in there, they are taking pictures.
During this photo safari of my lower intestine my wife was right there in the room with me. When they finished up they handed all the pictures to her – as a memento. A sort of, “Our trip to Gatlinburg,” retrospective. And my wife, being the delightfully clever lady that she is, announces to the room, “Oh look, Honey, Here’s our Christmas card for this year!”
I’ve got some wallet size available if anybody is interested.
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I’m still cackling over the lawnmower…