OT - Dave Barry's Colonoscopy Journal

Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.

Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:

.... 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 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 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.

--Dave Barry

ROFLMAO. Having recently gone through this "lovely" procedure I can
truly appreciate this piece. My dad died of colon cancer at the age
of 61 so it was strongly recommended by my doctor that I have this
test. The next time will probably be over my dead body. Test - no
problem. Prep - holy mother of God! A fellow poster here helped me
through this via lots of e-mails. Thank you Susan.
Sue

On Thu, 12 Jun 2008 08:32:00 -0500, "Les Stewart"
<noway@nnnoooohow.com> wrote:

>Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
>
>Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
>
>... 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 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 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.
>
>--Dave Barry
>
>

TeeHee 1 litre=32 gallons
--
Lynn VOF+ Leaper
"Everyone seems normal until you get to know them."



"Les Stewart" <noway@nnnoooohow.com> wrote in message
newsy94k.11589$Ri.1990@flpi146.ffdc.sbc.com...
> Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami
> Herald.
>
> Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
>
> ... 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 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 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.
>
> --Dave Barry
>
>
>

On Jun 12, 9:32*am, "Les Stewart" <no...@nnnoooohow.com> wrote:
> Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
>
> Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
>
> ... 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 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; allI
> 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 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.
>
> --Dave Barry

How GHASTLY. I'm just getting to that age .... I will remember
this ..... (and count on lots of posts and emails from Sue, pay it
forward, right? xoxo)

On Fri, 13 Jun 2008 15:53:35 -0700 (PDT), Stephanie
<sajesqnyc@yahoo.com> wrote:

>On Jun 12, 9:32*am, "Les Stewart" <no...@nnnoooohow.com> wrote:
>> Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
>>
>> Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
>>
>> ... 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 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 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.
>>
>> --Dave Barry
>
>How GHASTLY. I'm just getting to that age .... I will remember
>this ..... (and count on lots of posts and emails from Sue, pay it
>forward, right? xoxo)

Absolutely. I will say that I did not have to drink that huge jug.
They now have it down to a small bottle - of dynamite. Tasted *awful*
- lemon ginger. Nauseates me just to think about it. Of course, Mr
Berry didn't mention the part about the suppository. Maybe that's the
price I paid for getting the small bottle instead of the huge jug.
<brrrrrrr>
Hugs
Sue

Well, having heard of colonscopies for ages, I finally had my first
one last year. I insisted that they NOT put me to sleep during the
procedure as I wanted to see what they were seeing on the monitor and
I'd never seen my ass on camera. It was a big nothing and I really
had to giggle at how so many people carry on about how horrible it
was. The biggest bother was the cleaning out, which was just shitty.

FlatironMike
One year, four months, three days, 14 hours, 36 minutes and 0 seconds.
9792 cigarettes not smoked, saving $2,937.40. Life saved: 4 weeks, 6
days, 0 minutes.

On Sat, 14 Jun 2008 10:06:15 -0700 (PDT), FlatIronMike
<FlatironMikeNYC@gmail.com> wrote:

>Well, having heard of colonscopies for ages, I finally had my first
>one last year. I insisted that they NOT put me to sleep during the
>procedure as I wanted to see what they were seeing on the monitor and
>I'd never seen my ass on camera. It was a big nothing and I really
>had to giggle at how so many people carry on about how horrible it
>was. The biggest bother was the cleaning out, which was just shitty.
>
>FlatironMike
>One year, four months, three days, 14 hours, 36 minutes and 0 seconds.
>9792 cigarettes not smoked, saving $2,937.40. Life saved: 4 weeks, 6
>days, 0 minutes.


I remember my colonoscopy. I was in and out of a dream like state. I
remember it being very unpleasent. The next time I have one, I want
to be completely out. Not to be disrespectfull, but maybe it depends
on how much "traffic" you are used to.

Charlie has been free of cigarettes for one month, two weeks, five
days, 14 hours, 23 minutes and 27 seconds. 991 cigarettes not smoked,
saving $248.00. Life saved: 3 days, 10 hours, 35 minutes.

On Sat, 14 Jun 2008 10:06:15 -0700 (PDT), FlatIronMike
<FlatironMikeNYC@gmail.com> wrote:

>Well, having heard of colonscopies for ages, I finally had my first
>one last year. I insisted that they NOT put me to sleep during the
>procedure as I wanted to see what they were seeing on the monitor and
>I'd never seen my ass on camera. It was a big nothing and I really
>had to giggle at how so many people carry on about how horrible it
>was. The biggest bother was the cleaning out, which was just shitty.

I was "out" so the test was nothin'. It was the pretest that was, as
you say, shitty. Also, I have a hell of a time drinking liquid
medicine (cough syrup or whatever) so that was a major problem for me.
Mike, you're being awfully quiet of late. I hope nothing's wrong.
Tiho didn't post the stats last month (at least not that I saw) for
which I was extremely grateful.
Sue

>
>FlatironMike
>One year, four months, three days, 14 hours, 36 minutes and 0 seconds.
>9792 cigarettes not smoked, saving $2,937.40. Life saved: 4 weeks, 6
>days, 0 minutes.

>................ Also, I have a hell of a time drinking liquid
> medicine (cough syrup or whatever) so that was a major problem for me.

a problem for me too, so now they offer these HUGE pills you can take!

http://www.cnn.com/HEALTH/cancer/991...ill/index.html

> >................ *Also, I have a hell of a time drinking liquid
> > medicine (cough syrup or whatever) so that was a major problem for me.
>
> a problem for me too, so now they offer these HUGE pills you can take!
>
> http://www.cnn.com/HEALTH/cancer/991...ill/index.html

I'd like to thank you, readandpostrosie, for reading cnn.com.
The best political team ... I mean, the source for ... oh hell. Where
I work.

:P
Ashley

On Sat, 14 Jun 2008 17:12:42 -0500, "readandpostrosie"
<READANDPOSTAT@YAHOO.COM> wrote:

>>................ Also, I have a hell of a time drinking liquid
>> medicine (cough syrup or whatever) so that was a major problem for me.
>
>a problem for me too, so now they offer these HUGE pills you can take!
>
>http://www.cnn.com/HEALTH/cancer/991...ill/index.html

Apparently my doctor is unaware of this. The article was written in
1999. I went through this about two months ago. I'm fine with pill
taking.
Thanks for the heads up.
Sue
>