. .

Subj:.....Dave Barry's Colonoscopy Journal
          From: tom on 10/31/2008
      and From: virv on 8/18/2011 (S616b, S762)
Drawing from DCGastro.Website2go.com...
Source: http://www.miamiherald.com/283/story/427603.html
OK.  You turned 50. You know you're supposed to get a colonoscopy.
But you haven't.  Here are your reasons:
   1. You've been busy.
   2. You don't have a history of cancer in your family. 
   3. You haven't noticed any problems.
   4. You don't want a doctor to stick
      a tube 17,000 feet up your butt.
Let's examine these reasons one at a time. No, wait, let's not.
Because you and I both know that the only real reason is No. 4.
This is natural.  The idea of having another human, even a medical human, becoming deeply involved in what is technically known as
your ''behindular zone'' gives you the creeping willies.

Five years pass...  I did nothing.

Five more years passed. I turned 60, and I still hadn't gotten a colonoscopy.  Then, a couple of weeks ago, I got an e-mail from my brother Sam, who is 10 years younger than I am, but more mature.
The email was addressed to me and my middle brother, Phil.  It said:
``Dear Brothers,

``I went in for a routine colonoscopy and got the dreaded
diagnosis: cancer. We're told it's early and that there is
a good prognosis that they can get it all out, so, fingers
crossed, knock on wood, and all that.  And of course they
told me to tell my siblings to get screened.  I imagine you
both have.''

Um. Well.

First I called Sam.  He was hopeful, but scared.  We talked for
a while, and when we hung up, 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
Drawing from CrohnsDiseaseFocus.com
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a pres-
cription 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......................................Photo from EarlKnight.com
There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt.  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 exper-
iencing 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 under-
stood 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
Drawing from AlongPlumCreek.BlogSpot.com
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 had
not thought of this, 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 pro-
cedure 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

Photo from MercyNorthIowa.com
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' has 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  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 shrieking 
Dancing Queen!  Feel the beat from the tambourine and the next
moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow

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.

Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humorist

Photo from MiamiBeach411.com...
Drawing from Ripleys-Believe It Or Not


The Utopia Forum