September 14, 2008.
Today we attended the Arts on Foot Street Festival. Ashlee and Mark met us downtown at an awesome street festival. It was a pretty good mix of tents featuring artist’s wares and various local eateries temptations. There was also live music happening at 2 or 3 venues simultaneously along with some street performers. It would have been a great day but the temperature was up around ninety six, so it was a bit much.
We did walk about for a few hours before heading over to wander about in a Barnes & Noble. We like books a lot, but we were really there for the air conditioning.
EDITORS WARNING: If you are under 50 yrs old, you may not want to read the rest of this entry. On the other hand, if you are over 50, read on and we do expect your sympathy.
It’s been a couple of days since the street festival and I wanted to go and do something fun today but Christy had her heart set on “His & Hers” colonoscopies. Man, the things I do to make her happy.
Actually, it was kind of my fault, I went and turned 50. It seems that our society has deemed it necessary to stick things in your ass when you turn 50. Since Christy is only a few months behind me we decided to get them done at the same time.
For those unfamiliar I’ll lay it out for you. It’s a two part procedure. The first part entails you going down to the pharmacy and filling your prescription for magic beans and a gallon of misery.
Our appointments were for late Wednesday afternoon so that meant no food after midnight on Monday. On Tuesday we consumed the four magic beans. These magic pills are a mild laxative and once you’ve have had a bowel movement you can start drinking the gallon of misery. We had to gulp down a glassful of Satan’s own sweat every 15 minutes until the gallon was gone. It turned out that it is a not so mild laxative. They actually burn this stuff in those big booster rockets to get the space shuttle off the ground.
The 1 gallon jug comes from the pharmacy with some powder in the bottom. You mix in a gallon of water and they supply you with several taste enhancing flavors. I chose cherry, but much to my disappointment, once it was all mixed together, it tasted a lot like shit. Its gonna be a while before I can trust a cherry again.
Once you’re about a quart into it, the non stop fun begins. Incredible cramping followed by the rocket shits. Actually, I think that the cramping is all of your other internal organs trying to hold onto each other so they don’t get sucked out through your rectum. With the two of us in the same state of distress and using one toilet, let’s just say that the seat never had the chance to get cold.
The only thing we were allowed to eat was Jell-O. A couple of Dixie cups of Jell-O all day, although once the severe abdominal cramps set in, the hunger pains didn’t seem to matter any more. By the time bedtime came we were both "almost" empty.
On Wednesday morning we had, that’s right, Jell-O for breakfast and watched the clock until our good friend Nancy came to drive us to the doctors office. The patient information packet the doctor’s office had supplied us with said we had to have a driver as we would be loopy from the anesthetic and unable to drive. You know that you have REALLY good friends when they are happy to take you for colonoscopies. Thanks for a great day, Nancy!
When we walked in and the receptionist realized that we were both getting colonoscopies back to back she was amazed. She asked how we had been able to get two appointments together as that just never happens. I told her that when we called we told them that we were conjoined twins and had to come in together. She just kind of looked at me with a furrowed brow.
As we filled out our paperwork the receptionist remarked that the stuff they knock you out with will give you the best 20 minute nap you’ve ever had. Fine with me; bring it on, maybe I’ll dream that I’m not here. What I got instead was an intravenous drip that dulled my senses but didn’t knock me out. So I didn’t feel any pain when the doctor stuffed the Hubble telescope into my rectum. It was bizarre to be awake and chatting with the doctor as he and his nurse enjoyed a walking tour of my ass.
As soon as I was done, Christy was next and her experience was pretty much the same as mine except they talked about sailing during her procedure.
So after 30 minutes of recovery time we walked out hand in hand, happy in the knowledge that our intestines are in fabulous shape. They gave us a written report complete with pictures but they came out kinda crappy ;) so Christy said that I couldn’t post them. I’m even considering a career as a prostate model as soon as I can figure out what catalog that would be in.