I’ve been through some tough moments in my life, but getting a colonoscopy ranked right up there with circumcision, gall bladder pain, and my last date– very painful.
Getting prepped means taking enough laxative to make a statue move. I won’t say any more about this except I lost five pounds and used three rolls of toilet paper (Charmin extra-soft). My water bill was up that month.
I arrived at the surgery center the next day feeling drained, hungry, and parched. There were maybe twenty other people waiting. They all looked as if they’d been through the bombing at Hiroshima. I sat down, and, directly in front of me was a pot of coffee brewed, sitting on a hot plate and giving off a delicious aroma. I couldn’t remember if this was on the short list of beverages permitted.
After forty minutes waiting I got a cup of joe.
I was sipping on it when a nurse came into the waiting area and called my name. I walked toward her, coffee in hand. Her pleasant smile quickly changed to the face of a monster, and she said loudly, “Did you drink coffee?!!”
I said, “just a couple sips.”
She grabbed my wrist and led me into the hallway of this rear-end probing factory. My doctor and four cohorts were standing at the end of the hall. The nurse said, “Doctor, he drank coffee.”
The doctor and four cohorts glared at me, and he yells, “What were you thinking?!?”
Again, I said, “I only had two sips,” and showed them my cup, still half-full.
He said, “You have delayed everything. Nurse, his procedure must be delayed two hours.”
The nurse finally came for me, and, when they were wheeling me into surgery, I told the nurse that I had to go, one more time. She said, “Everybody says that and you have already delayed us all.”
I know when they put that camera in my rear end, they got more than they bargained for. Those first few pictures must have been a dark shade of brown.