First Annual State of My Anus Address

Hahahahahaha! That title is a lie - a total freaking lie! Because this address will have nothing to do with my anus because, frankly, the state of my anus is none of your business (unless you're one of three VERY SPECIAL people (and you know who you are)).

In fact, this address is about the state of my colon, which is totally different. Of course, just as the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, the way to a man's colon is through his anus, so in that sense, my anus is a bit player in this address and will appear, but only in a cameo role.

I turned 50 about a year-and-a-half ago and as soon as you turn 50, your doctor, not content with having shoved a finger up your butt to tickle your prostate for the past decade or so, immediately recommends that you have a colonoscopy, a procedure that involves introducing a camera and (from how it felt) a whole camera crew (including, presumably, Best Boy) up your ass. This is about as fun as it sounds.

Well, it took me about a year-and-a-half to sufficiently gird my loins¹ and agree to have this procedure done. It wasn't my intent to wait that long, but my reasoning went thus: "Today I could either go to work, or I could let some dude who looks and sounds a lot like a younger version of this guy

from Numbers shove a large (presumably metal) rod up where the sun don't shine²." "Today I could either lie around the house watching TV and drinking beer or ..." etc.

It's amazing how many different things there are in this world that are preferable to being sodomized by a dwarf from a canceled TV drama. Truly, God is Great.

But eventually, I had to have it done, and so this year, at my annual physical, I consented to have my doctor (female; slender fingers) recommend a specialist. And of course all of the specialists list their qualifications - "I graduated first in my class from @$$ college; I've been doing this for 10 years and never had a complication" ... etc. - but the one thing they don't tell you and you would feel kind of weird asking is, "How ... um ... big is your scope?" Because what if the answer is, "Would you prefer that it be smaller ... or larger?" And that just gets you into weird territory ... and not in the good sense.

Everyone tells you that the pre-procedure "cleansing" is the worst part of it. (I'll leave it to your imagination what-all that entails³.) But the fact is, the whole procedure is really nowhere near as bad as you anticipate.

My doctor told me I'd be in a twilight state, awake, but would have no memory of the procedure. That turned out not to be true. I was able to watch the whole thing on the monitor (and have a pretty good memory of it), because the monitor was right in front of my face, just about⁴. And I just kept thinking, "This is not the program I'd've chosen to watch, given my druthers, but it's still better than, say, a Twilight movie or any of those shows about midgets or hoarders that Teh 'Bride like to watch."

So all-in-all, not bad to watch. Since I couldn't exactly read during the procedure, it was nice to have some entertainment, something less cringe-inducing than, say, Teh Vasectomy Channel or Fox News.

Thing is, the doc found, and snipped out, two polyps. I got to see this happen. No, it doesn't hurt. And it turns out they were benign; but because all polyps have the potential to become something worse, I have to go back for another colonoscopy in three years instead of the usual five.

Thus: Citizens of Teh Blogosphere: The State of My Colon is Strong.

I expect the stock markets to experience a dramatic upswing now that this is general knowledge.

I would be remiss if I did not point out that the only reason I am writing and uploading this post is that coyBuM tagged me for one of those "say 11 things about yourself" games. If I had played, I'd've had to tag eleven other foax, but I don't even know eleven other foax, so I declined to play. As compensation, and also so as not to seem a total dick by just ignoring the tag (I'll leave that to SteveQ), I wrote this post about the state (and inner workings) of my @$$.

Now you know whom to blame for it⁵.

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¹ If you saw the size of my loins, you'd better understand why girding them takes so long.

² This is technically false because I spend all Summer and a good part of the Spring exposing my naked @$$ to the sun because as a man of Irish extraction, I am embarrassed enough that my @$$ is flat; I'll be damned if I'll let it be stereotypically pasty-white, as well. So yeah, I @$$-tan.

You got a problem with that?

³ SPOILER ALERT!1! Lots and lots of poop. Then, something, um ... let's just say "else".

⁴ SPOILER ALERT 2!1! My Flat Irish @$$ is far more shapely and attractive on the inside.

⁵ And in case you don't know who toyRuB is, she looks like this: