Everyone has a colonoscopy now and then--so this is not like a report from the epicenter of 9/11.
The doctor appeared to be a small child, and I liked him. He had an inelegant way of speaking. "Who knows if insurance will cover this?" he wondered aloud. "If you had a more dramatic family history--if your father were, like, dying of colon cancer, then you would be a slam dunk...."
He briefly considered my small daily intake of Adderall. "I mean, you *could* ingest that before a colonoscopy....but that's like pissing into the wind...."
(OK, he did not use that simile--but I *saw* the simile. I saw it in his eyes.)
The unpleasant part is the waiting. I worked my way through every Christmas carol I know--then moved on to Sondheim. "Johanna," "Anyone Can Whistle," "Losing My Mind." Oscar Hammerstein. Frank Loesser. "I spend sleepless nights to think about you...." Did Sondheim think that this was an odd way of using an infinitive? Of course, there would be rhythmic issues if he said, "I spend sleepless nights thinking about you..." Suddenly, I myself was asleep.
When I woke up, my son dropped by and did the tushy dance. (He wiggles his butt while making gestures that he has borrowed from the "vaudeville" tradition.) "Are you the poopie doctor?" he asked (of a stranger).
In other words, everyone behaved exactly as one might expect. I was really pleased to trash my empty SUPREP bottles today.
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