Oscopy not Ostomy
Due to Pence-care, colonoscopies are now warm and mandatory once you turn 50. I put off seeing my primary Pence-care doctor for a couple of years just to stick it to “The Man.” And now “The Man” was about to stick it to me.
Everyone who has ever had a colonoscopy will tell you “The worst part is the preparation.” They’re all wrong. The worst part of a colonoscopy is shitting out everything you’ve eaten in the past 50 years. I’m pretty sure I saw some Bubble Yum spiders and Tart and Tiny’s floating around one of my plentiful bowls. Eventually, my leavings became yellowish water with a few coffee grounds mixed in for atmosphere. I went so often and voluminously, that I think I eliminated food I haven’t even eaten yet. And that was just the night before. The morning of the procedure was round two of the most violent fight since Hagler – Hearns.
I’m going to knock the crap out of you!
I made sure Amy drove to the clinic swiftly so that I wouldn’t have to pee-poop at a gas station or behind some burning bush (if it wasn’t on fire before I got there, it would be after.) At the clinic, I filled out my voluminous Pence-care forms indemnifying them against anything including C.H.U.D. (or C.H.U.D. the Bud) attacks during the procedure.
*Nothing* is staying down there anymore!
The nurse asked me how I tolerated the super bowel-prep concoction. I told her it tasted odd but the worst part was it gave me a horrible case of diarrhea. She was about to reprimand me when I winked my butthole to let her know I was joking.
I gowned up and waited for the procedure so they sent Amy back to keep me company. When they opened up the curtain, I feigned a seizure. Great laughs were had by all except for my doctor who was called in to quickly revive me. Luckily, he was already on his way with some forms for me to sign. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and realized it was a thermometer.
Doctor: “Damn, some asshole has my pen."
Your anus sounds fine.
Finally, they rolled me back to the procedure room and my middle aged nurse absentmindedly discussed the music playing with a slightly younger assistant. The song was “Hey Jude.”
Nurse: “Who sings this?”
Assistant: “I’m pretty sure it’s Barry Manilow.”
Me: “It’s The Beatles.”
Assistant: “I’m not sure about that.”
Nurse: “I don’t really care for The Beatles.”
Me: “Can we cancel this right now? I’m not sure I want anyone who ‘doesn’t care’ for The Beatles to be stick…”
Nurse: “Shut up! Roll over on your left side, and count down from 100.”
Me: “Sorry you have such a shitty job and taste in music. 100, 97, 94. Uh did you say count down by 3’s? Uh 91, 90, fluffy carburetor, Helter, Skelter”
Doctor: “Just so you know, it’s perfectly normal to get an erection during a colonoscopy.”
Me: “I don’t have one.”
Doctor: “I was talking about me.”