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Feb 20, 2013
I called my good friend, an oncology surgeon, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, he showed me a colour diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through the next town .
Then he 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, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 12 miles UP MY BEHIND!'
I left his office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'Pico Prep,' which comes in a small unassuming box . I will discuss Pico Prep later; for now suffice to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of our 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 flavour.
Then, in the evening, I took the Pico Prep. You mix 1 sachet in a 250ml glass , then you fill it with lukewarm water. Then you have to drink the glass . This takes about 10 seconds with sculling, because Pico Prep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of camel spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for Pico Prep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humour, states 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.
Pico Prep 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 Pico Prep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the toilet bowel was fitted with a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, hanging on to the seat, biting hard down on a cork while spurting violently... You eliminate everything… And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another 250ml glass of Pico Prep, 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 Mater. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of Pico Prep action. I was thinking, “What if I spurt on my surgeon” How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the day surgery ward I had to sign a form 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 put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but he was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their Pico Prep.
At first I was pissed 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, I was wheeled into the procedure room, where Steve was waiting with a nurse and an anaesthesiologist. I did not see the 12 mile tube, but I knew it was hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anaesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Ring Of Fire'. I remarked to my surgeon that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Ring Of Fire ' had to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' he said, 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 Ring Of Fire was playing and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.
My surgeon was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when he told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colours. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
On the subject of Colonoscopies . . .
Colonoscopies are no joke. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:
1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!'
2. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
3. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
4. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
5. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out ... .'
6. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
7. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!'
8. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
9 'Dear Lord, now I know why I am not gay.'
And the VERY best one of all:
13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'!!


Staff member
Jul 10, 2001
Ha! This made me actually lol!