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.

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.


Full story here:
http://www.miamiherald.co...27603.html

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Sidebar:
A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:

'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!

'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'

'Can you hear me NOW?'

'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'

'You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.'

'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'

'You put your left hand in, you take your left handout...'

'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'

'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!

'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'

'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'

And the best one of all. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?’

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This article was sent to me by cubic61052.
Funny yet deadly serious.


tA

Tribal Disorder

http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431

'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'


x billion
[Edited 12/17/08 10:02am]

'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'

Journey 2 the center of the colon.

theAudience said:

why do i get an image of that happening to Roger from American Dad?

"Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?"

LOL. I had a colonoscopy on my 40th birthday, and he described it exactly right. ESPECIALLY the MoviPrep part. WHOOOOOSH! WOOOOOSH! WOOOOOSH! If you drink that stuff more than 4 steps from the toilet, you have made a BIG (messy) mistake.

The MoviPrep stuff I drank could be drunk cold. And when it was cold, it wasn't too bad. But as it warmed up...well, his description of the taste is just about right.

I'd tell y'all more, but really - who wants to know? LOL.

This is so accurate and just has me laughing to tears. I had one three weeks ago and had to drink the half lytely ~ sounds like the same brew Dave Berry describes. There is seriously no more reassuring feeling than knowing you do not have colon cancer. If anyone should have this procedure and is hesitating, research the treatment for this evil disease. It is pretty sobering.

Ok, whoever wrote this has a sense of humor, makes it less scary.


/
[Edited 12/18/08 0:58am]

RodeoSchro said:

I took the pills.....I'm thinking they were a much better option, providing the same 'results'.

tA, I venture to guess most people on this forum are not old enough yet to be subjected to such a glorious experience....

cubic61052 said:

What are the pills called? I've heard about them but my doctor hadn't. Do you still have to drink that nasty stuff or is it all pills? The half lytely had two pills at the beginning and I will never drink it again.

Sorry, but I do not remember the name, however no drinking of nasty tasting liquids was involved.....and the pills netted the same result.

I think it was a prescription (?). I do remember there were several pills that you take once an hour for about 3 hours....

cubic61052 said:

Thank you ~ I'll look into that for next time (not for five years ). That sounds so much more humane.

One thing to note about taking the pills: the results are not as immediate, hence the effects are longer lasting.....I think I finally went to sleep about 2:00AM the morning of my colonoscopy.....

From what I understand about drinking the liquid, you are totally clean by bedtime....