Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Hiney Ho!

What person, in their right mind, blogs about a colonoscopy? Aha—did you see the clue in that sentence?  It’s “in their right mind.”  And that lets me off the hook, so blog I shall.
            I really wasn’t going to write about this TMI sort of procedure, but then something happened that forced my hand.  I got a card from the staff at the hospital.  I know you will think I’m kidding, so I took a picture of the card. 
            Note that the cover says, “Each day provides its own gifts.”  Yes, but one of them is not a colonoscopy, can we not agree?  Seriously, of all sentiments, would you choose this one to console/congratulate someone on having been, shall we say, hosed?
            It sort of looks like a sympathy card.  But there’s that “look on the bright side” kind of sentiment.  And then, inside, it says, “Wishing you health” (which kind?) and then thanks you for choosing their hospital.  Aha—I get it now.  Each day provides its own gifts, and in this case, the gift is ours because you paid us to… well, you know.

            But it goes on.  The handwritten part says they hope I feel better (how could I not?) and then it’s signed “Your Spa Staff.”  I actually like that little bit of irony, as this is the polar opposite of a spa experience.  I choose to ignore “hope your feeling better” which should really say “hope you’re feeling better.”  Hey, they’re not writers and I’m not a nurse, so I’ll give them that one.

            And then it’s signed by waaay more people than I met, and I don’t even want to know how many of them were involved in my unforgettable moments there.  I’ll tell you who should send me a card.  Two people: The first one is the pharmacist, for giving me this hideous, humongous plastic jug that I had to lug all the way through the supermarket, since the pharmacy is always in the back.

You will note, from my putting my phone there for scale, that this thing is the size of a gasoline can.  And, not surprisingly, the contents taste exactly the same.  You add water to the Mystery Powder inside, drink it, and then there is no mystery about you for the next day and a half.
The second person who should send me a card is my doctor himself, who had me get this treatment at a hospital IN ANOTHER TOWN, TWENTY-THREE MILES AWAY!  Yes, 23 miles on surface streets.  Are there other clinics closer?  Just down the street.  But no.  I had to drive for 38 minutes and STOP AT DENNY’S on the way, because there is no way you can wait 30 minutes between bathroom visits once you have consumed this Elixer of the gods.

  Advice: Never have an out-of-town colonoscopy. Were this not my first one, I would have known better.
I’m not telling you to skip this cancer screening.  Like death, everyone has to have one eventually.  I’m just saying, choose a hospital within ten minutes of home, and then hope you get some lovely fan mail.
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  1. Just so you know...I have a top ten list. And things rotate on and off that list with regularity.

    Imagine, for example, that you tried to dye your hair at home and instead of the darker blonde you envisioned, your hair is covered in purple polka dots. So you go to the salon to get it fixed professionally and your stylist is a 5' tall Vietnamese immigrant with a lisp. You're having a hard time understanding him. When he tells you, "go into the bathroom, take off your shirt, hang it next to that shirt, put on the smock and come out," what you *hear* is "Take off your shirt, put on that shirt, and come out." You ask if he's sure he wants you to do that and he nods vigorously, so you get your hair dyed IN ANOTHER WOMAN'S SHIRT while she wanders around shirtless in a salon smock, looking for her clothes.

    That one has held my #1 spot for a few years.

  2. Ha ha ha! Great story, Juli-- you made my day!