Humor

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When you hear the word Proctoscope-RUN!!

November 2 was the day for my yearly checkup with my family doctor. After looking over my blood work and pronouncing them all within the acceptable range he made a casual comment-

"Mr. Lee, I notice that you have never had a colorectal examination".

"Sir, before I moved up here I lived in Louisiana, and I am sure I had one down there".

Let me digress here to say that in a weak moment I permitted my wife to attend my visit with the doctor.

"How long ago was the last exam"?

"Hasn't been that long ago".

At this time my wife which I now dub "ole bucket mouth" chimed in,

"He hasn't ever had one doctor".

If looks could have killed I would be in jail today.

"Oh, is that so" the doctor said.

Within a nanosecond his assistant had made an appointment with a Gastroenterologist by the name of Dr. Fink.

I said "hold on a minute there Doctor, I don't think I can trust a Doctor by the name of Fink".

"Don't worry, he was a Veterinarian before he became a people doctor"

My family doctor apparently has a sense of humor or prides himself in scaring the britches off a feller.

At the appointed time ole bucket mouth dragged me over to the clinic to doctor Fink's office for my preliminary visit. I got the distinct feeling that she was enjoying every minute of this. Dr. Fink turned out to be a regular Joe but insisted in describing in minute detail the procedure I would be going through. I said "I don't want to hear any of the details doctor Fink just tell ole bucket mouth there since she seems to be enjoying it so much. His instructions were as follows:

First, don't eat any solid food the day before the procedure is to be done. I'm sure that was for his benefit as well as mine. All I could have the day before the procedure was Jell-O, juices, water, and any other clear liquid I could think off.

Precisely at 6 p.m. the day before the procedure I was to start drinking a clear liquid that had been prescribed by Dr. Fink. The catch was that the liquid had to be consumed in 2 hours and there were 4 liters of it. I made a quick calculation in my mind and concluded there was 1.052 gallons, give or take an ounce or two, that I had to drink. I had never drunk that much liquid in my life and I was sure I couldn't hold that much. I soon found out why I could drink it all-what goes in must come out, if you get my drift!

The dreadful day finally arrived for the procedure. I had written my last will and testament leaving all my worldly goods to ole bucket mouth. That included all my debts and I might say she deserved them.

Finally ole bucket mouth and I were called back to a room where the Nurse told her that after the procedure, if I survived, doctor Fink would talk to us. Then I was escorted back to a room with a hospital bed and all the apparatus was waiting for me to arrive. After closing the curtain the Nurse told me to "strip down to the socks and put on that beautiful robe there on the bed". I knew then that I was in trouble because the back of the robe wouldn't close.

After hooking me up to an IV and casually talking to me while I lay there with my rear end shining like a polished watermelon the subject changed to survival and complications that might occur during the procedure. Dr. Fink who is no mathematician in my eyes told me that the chance of a puncture from the tube is about 1 in 5000. I said, "Hold on a minute here doc, can you give me better odds than that? He said "well, maybe I can go as high as 1 in 6000 but that is the best I can do". Shortly after assuring me that he had not lost that many patients the nurse administered a clear liquid into the IV. I asked her what was the stuff she was putting into the IV and she said it is something to relax you. I needed it.

Shortly after the clear liquid was administered I woke up in the recovery room with ole bucket mouth grinning like a possum eating persimmons. I said, "See, it was like I said, nothing to it. You didn't have to worry so much". She just grinned!

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