Four hours to the event

I’m so dry I’m a fire hazard. My morning pee was a sandstorm. Camels are collecting in the front yard. The well has run dry. My mouth feels like the Fourth Marine Battalion has been doing maneuvers behind my teeth.

Get the picture yet? Yesterday’s preparation for “The Event” was everything everyone told me it would be – and then some.  Without being crudely graphic just know the worst part of the prep was this gallon jug of stuff that looked like water and tasted like WD-Forty. And I had to drink the whole gallon in three hours. Then the fun began – doing laps in the house the rest of the day until the only thing left was me.

In case you were wondering, The Scribe is Fifty-Six years old. Well past the age recommended for “The Event.” The thing is, a colonoscopy might save your life. If you are over fifty and haven’t had one, consider the following:

  • Each year, more than 50,000 people die from colorectal cancer.
  • Colorectal cancer is the second leading cause of death due to cancer for men and women combined. (Lung cancer is the first.)
  • Someone dies from colorectal cancer every 9.3 minutes.
  • More lives are lost each year to colorectal cancer than breast cancer and AIDS combined.

A colonoscopy is the first line of defense. Now, I’m not saying I have colorectal cancer. That’s what this test will find out.  I’m just saying that early detection is key to nipping it in the butt. (so to speak)

Well, I’d better get my butt to the VA. More later…

“Could you write me a note for my wife, saying that my head is not, in fact, up there?” ~Anonymous colonoscopy receipient to his doctor after the procedure.

One thought on “Four hours to the event

  1. souldipper

    Completed my Sani-Flush a few weeks ago and thankfully, I am not one of the statistics.

    As I came out from under the anesthetic, I heard myself saying, “When are you starting the procedure?”
    “We’re all done,” said the surgeon cheerfully.
    “Shortest time any man’s ever spent in that vicinity,” I said involuntarily, as though Mae West now inhabited my body.
    Hopefully a budding writer from within the medical profession will publish some of the comments that roll out off the tongues of patients.

    May you be blessed with a clean bill of health.

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