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Aint Skeered

New Member
A serious subject, with a pinch of humour.
This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenteritis, 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 BEHIND!'

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 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 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
yelling 'Dancing Queen, Feel the beat of 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.
 

betty swollocks

large member
That was very funny: thanks for posting.
I spat out several pieces of semi-masticated crumpet reading that. Have now got to scrabble on the floor to find them.
 
One of the all time classic threads on singletrackworld.com was from a guy who posts as makecoldplayhistory asking if it was OK to go out for a ride after taking the laxative 'picolax'. Another member, blutone, then proceeded to explain exactly what happened when he took it. It wasn't dissimilar to the above account, but was so well written people all over the country were in pieces laughing. I certainly was. I just had a search for the thread on stw and it appears that it has been archived. I can't find it anyway. Nevertheless, 'picolax' was in the subject line...good luck if anyone wants to have a go at finding it. It's a long read but worth it!
 

ChrisKH

Guru
Location
Essex
Been there, done that, about 10 times. For Moviprep substitute a foul tasting liquid that makes you gag (what was it called?). But the pre-med (also lost the name in my distant memory) is fab. It doesn't actually make you sleep but you lose your memory for the time you were taking it which in retrospect is pretty scary; it was very painful but you don't remember. It's a pity I developed an intolerance to it and had to have three or four sans drug. Cue images (on a high definition colour TV I might add) of a very large black phallus in the upper reaches of your colon trying to make it into the impossibly small entrance of your small colon whilst the surgeon is gently buggering you with it from behind. It's an experience when you're awake, to say the least. Not so much painfull as deeply uncomfortable.

Too much information? :laugh:
 
Very good, Aint Skeered, very good indeed. :sad:

Kirstie said:
One of the all time classic threads on singletrackworld.com was from a guy who posts as makecoldplayhistory asking if it was OK to go out for a ride after taking the laxative 'picolax'. Another member, blutone, then proceeded to explain exactly what happened when he took it.

I remember that, Kirstie. Well worth reading the entire thread. :biggrin:
 

Night Train

Maker of Things
Been there done that and very accurate it is too.

Except that I didn't have any sedatives and it seemed half the hospital staff had gathered around to watch. They even put a colour tv in front of me, not to watch Richard and Judy but so I could see the whole experience from the point of view of the endoscope. All they needed was wide screen and surround sound and it would really have been like putting my head up my own ...

Anyway, if a gay man was to try and explain to me the pleasures of sex I will nod knowingly but without the pleasure bit. 17,000 feet seemed a little short from what it felt like, I was half expecting to gag as the scope emerged past my tonsils! That was when it wasn't doing a fair impersonation of the Alien trying to burst forth from my body cavity.

Needless to say, when it was over I felt like wrapping myself up in a mile of duvet and going to sleep sobbing quietly to myself knowing that there would be no comforting hug, no cigarette and no phone call or second date. Instead I was wheeled away, with my backside showing (or so it felt) to a cubicle where all the other victims were all lying in the same feotal position I found myself in, unable, or was it unwilling to move.
 
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