Humour, courage in colonoscopy

DEAR EDITOR:

Well according to the specialist, I had my “final’ colonoscopy today. He said he found only two small Polyps and he removed them, this means because of my advancing age (80... aghh) I am now out of the situation group where things could get worse.

Before the procedure, I had informed the two nice nurses that I was a “registered wimp’ requiring special attention regarding this most personal of procedures.

Both of them showed no surprise, the older lovely one said, “I know how you feel because this is my first medical procedure too.” The second lovely younger nurse said to the older nurse, “But you are supposed to be training me.” I asked who the specialist was and both were not quite sure because of all the trainee doctors on duty that shift.

Now me, pushing 80 and similar to the old goat from Olalla was quick to cotton on.

I asked them if the doctor doing the procedure was the same one who had just made parole. That did it, the joke was over and the fun began.

I was disrobed down to my socks, my manhood no longer covered by my underpants, the thin blue back to front nighty fastened like an apron on a dead donkey.

I was expertly driven by a nurse with astounding driving skills pushing the cot on wheels out the door, down the hall, sharp right into the operating room. There I was connected to a couple of pipes, told to turn on my left side, put my knees up to my chest and stick my butt out and then I softly talked to a chap (specialist) who was at least half my age telling him that I was a registered wimp as my world was quietly drifting into a serene place of total bliss. I woke up back in the original room, no worse for wear.

The two nurses complimenting themselves and the doctor what a good job they had done considering that it was the first time that they had done this procedure.

My first wife was phoned, and a cute nurse took me down in the elevator to join her in the new parking lot tower. As a reward my first wife drove me to Mc’Dees and we both had a McDouble to celebrate my courage.

To all the brave blokes out there who are putting it off, hey, if an 80-year old wimp can do it. Thanks to a special group of lasses and lads in the rear end department at Penticton Regional Hospital. 10-out-of-10.

Don Smithyman, Oliver