Here’s a wonderful subject:  Colonoscopies.  A few years ago I got the word from good old Dr. Finger that a colonoscopy was in my future.  I was the unfortunate victim of IBS, Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  Irritable was an understatement.  Mine was fighting mad.  My normal day went like this:  Get up, get sick.  Go to work, get sick.  Eat a snack, get sick, go to a meeting, but get sick first.  Go to lunch, get sick ...you get the picture.  Anyway, my doctor sent me to a Gastroenterologist and he made me watch a video of an animated intestine.  After the video we made plans for the big day.  His idea was a colonoscopy and a barium enema, all in one fell swoop.

    When you’re going for the scope, they like to have a clean shot so the first thing you do is flush everything out of your system.   That called for a top notch laxative.  In my case the doctor recommended Fleet Saline Laxative.  My lovely wife happily purchased the laxative for me that day and when I arrived home from work I got down to business.  You take two eight ounce glasses.  Pour half of the bottle in each glass.  Fill each glass with water.  Put one in the refrigerator and drink the other.  Talk about a taste sensation!  It’s similar to drinking the water out of the bucket when you make homemade ice cream.  After I chugged it down, I sat back and waited for the cleaning action to begin.

    No more than fifteen minutes later, the door bell rang and it was a surprise visit from my parents.  About five minutes later I was in the throes of my initial cleaning.  At this point I began telling myself, “Remain calm.”  The shock waves were moving through in ten minute intervals.  Obviously my parents tired of me constantly excusing myself while I ran through the house and they excused themselves and left.  I would have said goodbye, but I was busy at the time.

    Once the convulsions subsided, it was time to take the next dose.  I went to refrigerator to get the second glass of laxative and to my surprise it was gone.  For what ever reason, my wife, who hasn’t cleaned out the refrigerator in five years, decided to pour it out, thinking it was just a glass of water.  I wasn’t sure how to respond.  No matter, she volunteered to go get me a new bottle and within forty five minutes I was back in business.  Unfortunately it was Ginger Lemon Flavor saline, not the scrumptious plain saline like before.  This stuff is obviously Zyklon B in liquid form.  I’m certain I suffered permanent butt nerve damage.  However I will say that for the next several hours I was the proud owner of the cleanest intestinal tract in the county.  Also, for future reference, if you ever find yourself as medical officer in charge of a small, constipated army...one bottle will suffice.

    As is ordinary practice with any planned torture, my appointment was set for 7:00 a.m. the next morning.  By 7:15 a.m. I was wearing a paper gown and lying on a slab that they had chilled especially for me.  At this point I just wanted to get it over with.  I wasn’t interested in what they might find.  The Doctor and Nurse came in and talked to me in soothing tones, explaining the how the procedure was going to go.  They rolled me on my side and positioned me in such a way that I couldn’t see the monitor that, apparently, was to feature my lower tract in all its glory.  He told me to grab my knees and...HELLO!!!

    The guy was a horrible driver.  My intestinal wall was designed for things to slide smoothly past going the other way!  He was going up a one way street the wrong way and ricocheting like a pinball.  In all honesty this was just about the worst pain I have ever felt.  I couldn’t see who all was in the room, but at one point the Ace Hardware guy must have brought in a couple hundred more feet of hose.  I’m lying there dying, the Nurse is patting me on the shoulder saying,”There, there...” and Dr. Finger is back there singing, “HI HOOOOOO!”

    By now it seemed like the longest day of my life.  Just as my life was passing before my eyes, he started backing out.  I would say felt violated, but, actually, I felt pretty damn good.  The Doctor told me, “You might want to let some of that air out.”  I had no idea what he was talking about.  All I knew was that the remote control freight train had been successfully extracted from the tunnel.

    After I got dressed the Doctor told me that he went a little farther than planned and everything looked so good that we weren’t going to do the barium enema.  It is slightly unnerving when the person that has just taken a video tour of your anus says, “Everything looked good.”  I’m sure that’s a relative term, but still.

    On the way home, I started having cramps like never before.  By the time we got there, I was screaming in agony.  The “air” he had spoken of was trapped.  I couldn’t get rid of it and that was not normal for me.  I tried everything I could think of.  I finally ended up lying with my legs and hips on the bed and letting my torso hang over the edge.  With my butt up in the air, I was finally able to achieve equilibrium with the atmosphere.

    Whenever my Doctor mentions a colonoscopy these days I flatly refuse.  He explained that they use a general anesthesia and remove the air when they are done, but I don’t trust them.  And I certainly have no intention of being asleep while someone conducts an anal probe.