brings new meaning to the term "They can shove that right up their ***" doesn't it. I woke up in the middle of one of those one time. Two of the nurses commented on my colorful language....

 

Glad you're OK, Mike. :thumbsup: I guess I've got that lovely procedure to look forward to.

Death might be more desirable ... l

 

good for you, so many men just die of embarrassment.

I'll post up one of the funniest bits of writing I have ever read if I can find it.

 

(This Dave Barry column was originally published Feb. 22, 2008.)

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.
I know this because I am like you, except worse. I yield to nobody in the field of being a pathetic weenie medical coward. I become faint and nauseous during even very minor medical procedures, such as making an appointment by phone. It's much worse when I come into physical contact with the medical profession. More than one doctor's office has a dent in the floor caused by my forehead striking it seconds after I got a shot.
In 1997, when I turned 50, everybody told me I should get a colonoscopy. I agreed that I definitely should, but not right away. By following this policy, I reached age 55 without having had a colonoscopy. Then I did something so pathetic and embarrassing that I am frankly ashamed to tell you about it.
What happened was, a giant 40-foot replica of a human colon came to Miami Beach. Really. It's an educational exhibit called the Colossal Colon, and it was on a nationwide tour to promote awareness of colo-rectal cancer. The idea is, you crawl through the Colossal Colon, and you encounter various educational items in there, such as polyps, cancer and hemorrhoids the size of regulation volleyballs, and you go, ''Whoa, I better find out if I contain any of these things,'' and you get a colonoscopy.
If you are as a professional humor writer, and there is a giant colon within a 200-mile radius, you are legally obligated to go see it. So I went to Miami Beach and crawled through the Colossal Colon. I wrote a column about it, making tasteless colon jokes. But I also urged everyone to get a colonoscopy. I even, when I emerged from the Colossal Colon, signed a pledge stating that I would get one.
But I didn't get one. I was a fraud, a hypocrite, a liar. I was practically a member of Congress.
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 GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BUTT!''
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription 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. 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 experiencing 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 understood and totally agreed with whatever the hell 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 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 hadn't 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 procedure 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 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 a 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 mood. 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.
But my point is this: In addition to being a pathetic medical weenie, I was a complete moron. For more than a decade I avoided getting a procedure that was, essentially, nothing. There was no pain and, except for the MoviPrep, no discomfort. I was risking my life for nothing.
If my brother Sam had been as stupid as I was -- if, when he turned 50, he had ignored all the medical advice and avoided getting screened -- he still would have had cancer. He just wouldn't have known. And by the time he did know -- by the time he felt symptoms -- his situation would have been much, much more serious. But because he was a grown-up, the doctors caught the cancer early, and they operated and took it out. Sam is now recovering and eating what he describes as ''really, really boring food.'' His prognosis is good, and everybody is optimistic, fingers crossed, knock on wood, and all that.
Which brings us to you, Mr. or Mrs. or Miss or Ms. Over-50-And-Hasn't-Had-a-Colonoscopy. Here's the deal: You either have colo-rectal cancer, or you don't. If you do, a colonoscopy will enable doctors to find it and do something about it. And if you don't have cancer, believe me, it's very reassuring to know you don't. There is no sane reason for you not to have it done.
I am so eager for you to do this that I am going to induce you with an Exclusive Limited Time Offer. If you, after reading this, get a colonoscopy, let me know by sending a self-addressed stamped envelope to Dave Barry Colonoscopy Inducement, The Miami Herald, 1 Herald Plaza, Miami, FL 33132. I will send you back a certificate, signed by me and suitable for framing if you don't mind framing a cheesy certificate, stating that you are a grown-up who got a colonoscopy. Accompanying this certificate will be a square of limited-edition custom-printed toilet paper with an image of Miss Paris Hilton on it. You may frame this also, or use it in whatever other way you deem fit.
But even if you don't want this inducement, please get a colonoscopy. If I can do it, you can do it. Don't put it off. Just do it.
Be sure to stress that you want the non-Abba version.

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/2009/02/.../02/11/v-fullstory/427603/dave-barry-a-journey-into-my-colon.html#storylink=cpy

 

Congratulations Mike. It's a good thing to do just for the peace of mind. I had to start at 40 because my father had colon cancer. I've had three procedures and my only problem is not knowing whether I'll wake up grumpy or giddy. One time I laughed all the way out of the medical facility. Another time my wife told me I almost bit the Doctor's head off after it was over. Thankfully I was clean every time and recommend it for anyone of the appropriate age or with a family history that calls for it. It's really no big deal. The preparation is an experience, but not unbearable.
Ron

 

Mike
just had my second one(I'm 62yrs. old) not that long ago. now they use that stuff that killer Michael Jackson to knock you out. that stuff is so gooooood. believe me once you pass 50 or so not to many things can embarrass you anymore. glad to hear the good news. hmardown

 

I must have had Dr. Mengele for my procedure because they didn't even offer to knock me out!

 

i have had 2 colns. and 4 prostate biops, and 1 prostate MIR, i have had a busy butt, lol
the colns. are a piece of cake compared to the others, best sleep i have ever had

 

I have a great regular doctor. With a full physical every year he monitors everything very closely but will not have you do things just because you have great insurance. My wife works for the State so I do. Had my first one at 59 and had 1 polyp that was irregular. Doing my next one this year three years later. Cannot remember anyone in my family ever having cancer.

Bottom line.......Find a doctor you like and trust and get complete bloodwork and physical every year. Your family history and test results will guide you. Starting at 50 is like a 3000 mile oil change........good but not particularly necessary.

 

Thanks for all the feedback guys, and really glad all the results were good! I love Team Chevelle humor!!!

 

I remember that "sight discomfort remark" that was made to me....................right......................an aluminum softball bat frozen the night before and shoved up me would have been "slight discomfort"....They kept me awake and the doctor had the gall to ask me if i wanted to watch on the monitor.....I'm being abused by a total stranger, who actually favored Ned Beatty, and he wonders if i want to watch him. Just go ahead and play the "Deliverance" soundtrack and let me die on the table of acute embarrassment, but "NO", i have no desire to watch anything, as long as i can see at least one of your hands at all time. Before he finished going north of the Mason-Dixon line with that apparatus, i was admitting to having committed war crimes. I even swore i had been Hitlers personal driver, but wasn't even alive during WW2. He remarked " he could see right thru me and my pack of lies".
I thought the " seeing right thru me remark" was in poor taste, but couldn't argue with him. Thankfully no polyps, and as an added bonus, my blurred vision has cleared up magically. However my breath suddenly smells like crap. Whatever happens in the future, i'm never going to prison................i don't even have a "purty mouth"..................

 

I had my colonoscopy done May 17, supposedly best Doc in the area. Long story short, he punctured my colon. Woke up next morning to excruciating pain, went to emergency room and shortly thereafter they had me in surgery. I was on serious drugs by then for the pain, and I knew it was serious when all the doc's and nurses started coming around to speak with me. I fly for a living so I was voicing my concern about them doing something to keep me from getting back to work and the surgeon tells me that in another 18 hours we would be talking life and death, and that I had just moved to the front of the line for surgery that day. He told me to expect a colostomy bag and removal of 6 to 8 inches of colon, and approx a week in the hospital. Not what I wanted to hear.

Things worked out much better than they expected. They were able to use scopes and fix everything, took along time to find the hole but the surgeon told me he was trying very hard not to cut me open. I spent 4 days in the hospital, and 1 week after the surgery I was back riding my bike and the family and I went to CO for vacation 8 days after. I am fine but it was a scary and crazy experience. You know what they say about opinions and a## holes, well..... now I have 2. LOL

 

WOW
I had my first at 50. Thank God I did. Cancer was found, removed now I am fine.
The day of the colonoscopy was good the prep the night before was a!@#$%^&. When I was taken back, the nurse hit another doctor in the group’s foot with the stretcher. She puts one of the butterfly things in my hand then comes back with TWO needles the nurse says the first one is to relax you and put you to sleep and the second is to make you forget about what the doctor is about to do. Well the doctor comes in and speaks to me says we will get started. Well all I remember is him bumping the table when he goes by at my feet. Next thing I remember is a nurse telling me I needed to wake up so that I could get awake so that all of us could go home for the Memorial Day weekend. Then the doctor come in and drops the bomb on me. He found by accident on the way out to get the polyp he found on the way in, a spot of something of which he biopsied to send to the lab for test. Well that 3 day Memorial Day weekend was the worse 3days I had ever lived thru.
Guys have the colonoscopy the test may save your life!

 

You guys are rookies. I had mine at 23 because after a blood test to check cholesterol, he said all my other levels just couldn't be as bad as they were without something being wrong.

There was.

Him!