Call me crazy, call me old fashioned, call me a bit over protective. But I hope with all hope that my daughter listens when I talk to her about sex. Yep, you heard right, I am talking about the Big "S" word. Something that was never discussed with me. And that is a distress. For I wish someone would have been as open with me about this very delicate subject as I am with my daughter.
Knowledge is power.
I look at the homes that these kids who become pregnant teens and wonder what is going on in their home. In the case of Bristol Palin, it's as if they are glorifying teenage pregnancy. I could give a few other examples, such as Jamie Spears and I am guessing there are others. But suffice it to say, I am against teenage pregnancy.
We have always talked 'with' our daughter about things concerning life, never to her, and there is a huge difference. I have been in many a home where the parents talk to their children to them as if they are children. And if it is our job to guide them in the direction of adulthood, then by talking with them and not to them, you are solidifying that you now see them as a near equal. Of course I tailor the conversation to their level, but I do not talk down to her. It would benefit no one.
Then there is thee ever popular statement for those who do get pregnant all the same from those of the old school mentality that..."Well he did the right thing." For whom? Let's put things into perspective here. Nine point nine times out of ten the couple in question are rarely if ever in love and it is more a case of being in lust, hence the unwanted pregnancy. For I cannot see the young couple being ecstatic over a pregnancy that was no where in their future. Especially when they are usually planning prom, graduation and a slew of other things, but definitely not a pregnancy, hence the word 'unwanted'.
So, some of the young stallions go off and marry her even though there is not an ounce of love between them, but he is 'doing the right thing'. To what end? To give the child a name? To give him a stable relationship to grow under? I think not. Half of all supposed planned marriages end in divorce. Why? Because so many are not willing to go that extra step in doing what it takes to make it work, and that extra step is sacrifice. People do not want to change, bend, or give up what they had before. Well hello folks, you get married because you want a change. But people say it all the time, "I ain't' changing, let him/her change." Well it takes two to Tango so crap or get off the pot people.
Then they bring in the other equation...a child, and then all hell breaks loose. The child is thrown into day care, so some other shclep can raise their child so they can still both work jobs to keep them in step with the Jones'. When I had to work back in Miami and my little one was still at home, my husband and I maneuvered our schedules so that my mother-in-law would be watching our children a little as possible. He worked two 40 hour jobs, I held down a 40 hour job myself and my husband and I rarely if ever saw one another for about 2 years. Why? Because it was not my mother -in-laws responsibility to raise our children. So we did what...oh yeah, sacrificed. I have seen children dumped at a babysitters home so much that the child sees the sitter as their mother instead of the birth mother. Ya think?
I am also a firm believer of girls not becoming Betty Crocker (Ready to spread frosting). Ever hear of keeping your legs closed? Didn't the parents of these girls tell them that Johnny, Billy, Bobby, Paul and who ever else you can think of will sell you any line he knows you want to hear just to get you to let him in? I have again, told my daughter that sex is a wonderful thing, as long it is with someone you love. It is not one of thee easiest topics for the two of us to discuss, but better from me than form some wise-ass Casanova who will definitely love her and leave her. They, meaning the boys (notice I did not say men) are in it for the sex, women are in it for the love. And yes we are looking for the Harlequin Romance novel style romance. It is rarely out there.
A friend of mine, no more like an acquaintance, nope, actually someone we just tolerate, once told me that there were some movies that depicted premarital/teenage sex in a good light. This person has a son. It is an entirely different ball game when you have a daughter. What good comes of teenage sex? Could someone tell me, for I do not know thee answer. It isn't going to get your daughter accepted, unless you are talking about thee entire football team.
And on the more common chance she does get pregnant, there are movies and shows that are showing as if it is something to be glorified. The new show, My Life as a Pregnant Teenager (hope I got the title correct) shows this girl in an upper middle class family. Come on. How many pregnant teens do any of you know that came from upper middle class? I do not know of any...at all. That is just my point. These girls are being shown as if it is all cutesy tootsy to get pregnant. And that their lives will get right back to normal. WHAT? Who fed them that line of utter crap. That is unless you are dumping junior or juniorette on mom and dads doorstep all the time so you can still go out and party and get this...get some sleep. Yep, you heard right. My sister-in-law left her nearly 2 year old son with her/my mother-in-law (who is kissing 70) just so my 23 year old sister-in-law could get some sleep. Hello, is that not a prerequisite to being a parent, losing sleep. We all did it, but obviously she needs her sleep. And oh yes, she is unemployed. Someone hit me with a stupid stick for I do not get it.
They are willing to sleep around but not deal with the responsibilities that go with their hopping in the sack.
This is why I am an advocate of pro-choice. I do not believe that children should be brought into this world unless they are wanted and into a loving family that wants them here and will do whatever it takes to see to their well being. And there are way too many kids out there having kids just because it is now the cool thing to do. Give me a break. Grow up!
Friday, March 13, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Things To Remember
I rarely if ever deal with chain Emails. they are, for the most part a waste of time. But I received one recently and scoured over it and read all the way through it , which is uncommon for me. But it wasn't the Email that hooked me so much as the final part of what had been sent.
This Email was from one of the survivors of the recent plane crash in the Hudson River in New York. We all know we should be grateful for what we have, but in all honesty we get slack in our thanks. Recently, (in the last few years) I have been thrown a few curve balls in the way of my health (via an accident), but all the same, my health was called into question.
And every now and then we are jolted into realizing just how precious life is, and that we all have a number. I can only imagine being any number of those who walked off that plane the day of the crash. And here are some of the things one of those people took away with them.
1. Cherish your families as never before and go to great lengths to keep your promises.
2. Be thankful and grateful for everything you have and don't worry about the things you don't have.
3. Keep in shape. You never know when you'll be called upon to save your own life, or help someone else save theirs.
4. When you fly, wear practical clothing. You never know when you'll end up in an emergency or on an icy wing in flip flops and pajamas and of absolutely no use to yourself or anyone else.
I myself had to rethink some things due to these statements (minus the flying part, for I rarely fly and 'always' wear practical clothing).
I try not to make promises, for then you look like a failure. So I usually say I will try, and that lets me off the hook.
Keeping in shape is not a problem. I have always kept a somewhat ideal weight (not those outrageous numbers the American Medical Association tells you you should be) and am glad to say this did not pertain to me. I had seen my mother get heavier as the years rolled on and she has used every excuse in the world except for taking responsibility for her own actions. I did not want to be that person...and I am not. That is not to say that I am fit enough to save someone else's life, but I am a sure sight better off than many out there. I love helping others and if dragging someone to safety is my destiny in life, then I want to be ready. Are you?
This Email was from one of the survivors of the recent plane crash in the Hudson River in New York. We all know we should be grateful for what we have, but in all honesty we get slack in our thanks. Recently, (in the last few years) I have been thrown a few curve balls in the way of my health (via an accident), but all the same, my health was called into question.
And every now and then we are jolted into realizing just how precious life is, and that we all have a number. I can only imagine being any number of those who walked off that plane the day of the crash. And here are some of the things one of those people took away with them.
1. Cherish your families as never before and go to great lengths to keep your promises.
2. Be thankful and grateful for everything you have and don't worry about the things you don't have.
3. Keep in shape. You never know when you'll be called upon to save your own life, or help someone else save theirs.
4. When you fly, wear practical clothing. You never know when you'll end up in an emergency or on an icy wing in flip flops and pajamas and of absolutely no use to yourself or anyone else.
I myself had to rethink some things due to these statements (minus the flying part, for I rarely fly and 'always' wear practical clothing).
I try not to make promises, for then you look like a failure. So I usually say I will try, and that lets me off the hook.
Keeping in shape is not a problem. I have always kept a somewhat ideal weight (not those outrageous numbers the American Medical Association tells you you should be) and am glad to say this did not pertain to me. I had seen my mother get heavier as the years rolled on and she has used every excuse in the world except for taking responsibility for her own actions. I did not want to be that person...and I am not. That is not to say that I am fit enough to save someone else's life, but I am a sure sight better off than many out there. I love helping others and if dragging someone to safety is my destiny in life, then I want to be ready. Are you?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
She Fawted
Well this is most likely going to be one of those stories that is funnier if you were there, but here goes.
My daughter has a new interest in her life, and it ain't a new puppy. So thee other day Mr. Interested came over so she could let him watch the first installment of X-Men. this poor lad has yet to see any of them (freak that he is), so Savanah asked if he could come over and hang out to see the first movie. I was home, dad was home (gulp) so all was cool.
The movie was going grandly, I was surfing the web (mom never being unable to see junior) so I would scoot to see the movie then do something in the kitchen. Dad was at his parents, but had come home. So all four of us were sitting in the living room watching the movie.
We bring in our 55 pound pit-bull mix, /she does the usual meet and greet then plops herself down squarely on the carpet in the TV Room. All is well until we hear this very loud Faaaaaarrrrrrtttt!
All four of us cracked up. the dog never missed a beat and she could have cared less who was watching or listening. She did what she had to do and was done with it. Us, on the other hand could not believe what she had done. And just what had she done. A very natural act, to a dog at least, but to us, it is a sign of being ill-mannered. Well then I guess our home is the top of the line when to comes to being ill mannered. At least among our own family that is.
We, meaning the four that live here (5 if you count stinky...I mean Tippy) are all comfortable with our, how would you call it? Our ability to alleviate our bodies of extra hot air. And yet, if the dog does one of thee most natural acts in the world, we all blush and carry on like a house full of hens with a fox running loose.
We actually have dinner table discussions about this topic. If you can't be comfortable with your own family talking about this, who can you be comfortable around. Needless to say it made for an interesting story, and obviously one worth enough to blog about.
My daughter has a new interest in her life, and it ain't a new puppy. So thee other day Mr. Interested came over so she could let him watch the first installment of X-Men. this poor lad has yet to see any of them (freak that he is), so Savanah asked if he could come over and hang out to see the first movie. I was home, dad was home (gulp) so all was cool.
The movie was going grandly, I was surfing the web (mom never being unable to see junior) so I would scoot to see the movie then do something in the kitchen. Dad was at his parents, but had come home. So all four of us were sitting in the living room watching the movie.
We bring in our 55 pound pit-bull mix, /she does the usual meet and greet then plops herself down squarely on the carpet in the TV Room. All is well until we hear this very loud Faaaaaarrrrrrtttt!
All four of us cracked up. the dog never missed a beat and she could have cared less who was watching or listening. She did what she had to do and was done with it. Us, on the other hand could not believe what she had done. And just what had she done. A very natural act, to a dog at least, but to us, it is a sign of being ill-mannered. Well then I guess our home is the top of the line when to comes to being ill mannered. At least among our own family that is.
We, meaning the four that live here (5 if you count stinky...I mean Tippy) are all comfortable with our, how would you call it? Our ability to alleviate our bodies of extra hot air. And yet, if the dog does one of thee most natural acts in the world, we all blush and carry on like a house full of hens with a fox running loose.
We actually have dinner table discussions about this topic. If you can't be comfortable with your own family talking about this, who can you be comfortable around. Needless to say it made for an interesting story, and obviously one worth enough to blog about.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Give Me A Break
I am on a roll. I wrote to The Food Network asking them why they do not have a show that cooks vegetarian dishes. I mean come on, there are those of us out here who do not consume meat. But that is a different post.
But this thing in the news about Michael Phelps has me a bit perturbed. Kellogg's is dropping him because there was a photo of him smoking pot in a bong. Give -me - a - freaking - break. You meant o tell me that there is no one sitting on the Board of Directors at Kellogg's that has not taken some sort of illegal drug. Give me a break.
You mean to tell me none of the big wigs ever snorted a line of coke? Or I will even give them the benefit of the doubt and say that you mean to tell me that no one up in the Kellogg's high and mighty walls has never gotten drunk and done something stupid? Puh-leeeaze.
And now they are dropping Michael Phelps. After all he did for his country during the Summer Olympics of 2008? Give me a break. Trust me when I say that I will be writing Kellogg's and letting them know I will no longer be buying their products (which I don't for the most part anyhow), but I will dig a bit deeper and see how many companies are connected to them or owned by them. And I will make sure those products do nto get into my shopping cart.
I know that my little bit of business will not bring down this monopolizing company, but I want them to know just how I feel. And who knows. Maybe someone who reads this will get sparked to write them, the same as I, or maybe write to some place that has ticked them off and let them know just how they feel about something. The power of the pen.
I never knew how liberating it was to write a company and let them know how you feel about something they are doing or something you would like them to do...who knew. So a letter will soon be forth-coming and on its way to Kellogg. You can bet your bottom dollar I will let you all know what their response is.
One of my dear friends found this for me. It was on Saturday Night Live. It says it how it really is in regards to Michael Phelps. There is a swear word at the end of the little video. So if you are offended by swear words then I suggest you skip the video, but in my humble opinion, it is worth it for the one word.
Saturday Night Live Video
But this thing in the news about Michael Phelps has me a bit perturbed. Kellogg's is dropping him because there was a photo of him smoking pot in a bong. Give -me - a - freaking - break. You meant o tell me that there is no one sitting on the Board of Directors at Kellogg's that has not taken some sort of illegal drug. Give me a break.
You mean to tell me none of the big wigs ever snorted a line of coke? Or I will even give them the benefit of the doubt and say that you mean to tell me that no one up in the Kellogg's high and mighty walls has never gotten drunk and done something stupid? Puh-leeeaze.
And now they are dropping Michael Phelps. After all he did for his country during the Summer Olympics of 2008? Give me a break. Trust me when I say that I will be writing Kellogg's and letting them know I will no longer be buying their products (which I don't for the most part anyhow), but I will dig a bit deeper and see how many companies are connected to them or owned by them. And I will make sure those products do nto get into my shopping cart.
I know that my little bit of business will not bring down this monopolizing company, but I want them to know just how I feel. And who knows. Maybe someone who reads this will get sparked to write them, the same as I, or maybe write to some place that has ticked them off and let them know just how they feel about something. The power of the pen.
I never knew how liberating it was to write a company and let them know how you feel about something they are doing or something you would like them to do...who knew. So a letter will soon be forth-coming and on its way to Kellogg. You can bet your bottom dollar I will let you all know what their response is.
One of my dear friends found this for me. It was on Saturday Night Live. It says it how it really is in regards to Michael Phelps. There is a swear word at the end of the little video. So if you are offended by swear words then I suggest you skip the video, but in my humble opinion, it is worth it for the one word.
Saturday Night Live Video
Friday, February 13, 2009
It "Is" All About You
OK, so what's wrong with being selfish? Nothing, if it is done in the correct manner. I have always said, "I need to take care of me before I can be a good wife, mother, friend...." And in there is where the truth lies.
There is a huge difference between self indulgence and self kindness. One helps you...the other does not. Let me give you some examples and their differences:
Self Indulgence-
1) Continuing to do what is harmful to you and after you realize it is harmful
2) Loathing yourself
3) Getting lost in fantasies about how great your life is going to be, while you continue the same old self-destructive things
4) Not asking for help when you need it
5) Breaking the commitments you've made to yourself
Self Kindness-
1) Calling a halt to doing what's harmful to you
2) Defending yourself against anyone who attacks you- including yourself
3) Telling the truth
4) Asking for help
5) Believing that there's a good reason for what you're doing, even if you aren't aware of it at the moment
There you have it. In essence, all you have to do is be kind/good to yourself, the rest will fall into place...eventually. Nothing happens overnight. You didn't get there in one day and you won't dig out of it in one day either. So start with little steps. Find one aspect that fits your life and alter it. You have the power and the power to do what? Oh yeah, make choices. It takes effort to do the right thing. Whether it be eating properly, being nicer in traffic, saying a kind word to the wretch at work, more exercising. The possibilities are endless.
You can do whatever you want, it is your life. Make the best of it, you only have one. (Unless you are Shirley and then there will be many more)
There is a huge difference between self indulgence and self kindness. One helps you...the other does not. Let me give you some examples and their differences:
Self Indulgence-
1) Continuing to do what is harmful to you and after you realize it is harmful
2) Loathing yourself
3) Getting lost in fantasies about how great your life is going to be, while you continue the same old self-destructive things
4) Not asking for help when you need it
5) Breaking the commitments you've made to yourself
Self Kindness-
1) Calling a halt to doing what's harmful to you
2) Defending yourself against anyone who attacks you- including yourself
3) Telling the truth
4) Asking for help
5) Believing that there's a good reason for what you're doing, even if you aren't aware of it at the moment
There you have it. In essence, all you have to do is be kind/good to yourself, the rest will fall into place...eventually. Nothing happens overnight. You didn't get there in one day and you won't dig out of it in one day either. So start with little steps. Find one aspect that fits your life and alter it. You have the power and the power to do what? Oh yeah, make choices. It takes effort to do the right thing. Whether it be eating properly, being nicer in traffic, saying a kind word to the wretch at work, more exercising. The possibilities are endless.
You can do whatever you want, it is your life. Make the best of it, you only have one. (Unless you are Shirley and then there will be many more)
You Are What You Write
Why do you read certain blogs, or even drop by on occasion? Is it the author/ess, the layout, content, grammar, photos? There are many reasons why I read ones blog...or not.
If someone new comments on my blog, I take a gander at their place. Sometimes it grabs me, sometimes not. I will keep up on them for a while, but if I am not drawn in, then I don't keep coming back.
How they put their words together is a big one for me. Now don't think I am a writing snob, for surely I would most more than likely not make it through English I if I had to take it all over again. But to me grammar and how you piece your post together means something to me.
I am not fond of mini-novels or the one liners. Either one of those will turn me off immediately. And if you can't hit a shift bar, trust me when I say that I will never come back to your blog. That is like nails on a chalkboard. And for others it may be ending a sentence with a preposition (which I have been known to do now and then), some prefer no profanity (I am trying really hard to curb my usage, but do not think I was a sailor...I was not).
I take a while to get hooked on a blog. And now that I have been doing this nearly a year, my tastes have changed. A dear friend of mine does not see the point of blogging. To her it is like a public diary/journal. And she is right. So for those who post personal issues, you may have to get creative in how you present your information. You don't want to step on families or friends toes.
But what I seem to now want to stay away from is depressing blogs. Don't get me wrong. I know many folks are in dire straights, our family is one of them. But I don't sign on and blog about it in every post. Do I mention our problems? Certainly, but I hope that I do not dwell on our families struggles. I know people are hurting and in deep trouble. And we should be able to come to our blogs and vent. But when thee underlying theme is the same thing every single time, then to me, at least, your blog loses some credence.
There is always some worse off than you. You may not think so, but unless you are living under and bridge and you have the ability to post (meaning you have access to a computer, even if it is via a friends home or the library) you are better off than some. I know this to be true so I try rarely to whine about our current predicament(s). This too shall pass.
I want to hear good things. Do not misunderstand me. I know we are not living in a fantasy world, OK, maybe some of you are, but for the most part, we are a realistic folk. But why burden your reading public with your woes. Those of us reading get tired of saying, "I'm feel so bad for you, don't worry things will get better." What if they don't? what if said blogger loses her home, job, vehicle. It's happening all over the place.
So before you put your tiny little digits on that keyboard, think about what your adoring public will say at the end of your post.
If someone new comments on my blog, I take a gander at their place. Sometimes it grabs me, sometimes not. I will keep up on them for a while, but if I am not drawn in, then I don't keep coming back.
How they put their words together is a big one for me. Now don't think I am a writing snob, for surely I would most more than likely not make it through English I if I had to take it all over again. But to me grammar and how you piece your post together means something to me.
I am not fond of mini-novels or the one liners. Either one of those will turn me off immediately. And if you can't hit a shift bar, trust me when I say that I will never come back to your blog. That is like nails on a chalkboard. And for others it may be ending a sentence with a preposition (which I have been known to do now and then), some prefer no profanity (I am trying really hard to curb my usage, but do not think I was a sailor...I was not).
I take a while to get hooked on a blog. And now that I have been doing this nearly a year, my tastes have changed. A dear friend of mine does not see the point of blogging. To her it is like a public diary/journal. And she is right. So for those who post personal issues, you may have to get creative in how you present your information. You don't want to step on families or friends toes.
But what I seem to now want to stay away from is depressing blogs. Don't get me wrong. I know many folks are in dire straights, our family is one of them. But I don't sign on and blog about it in every post. Do I mention our problems? Certainly, but I hope that I do not dwell on our families struggles. I know people are hurting and in deep trouble. And we should be able to come to our blogs and vent. But when thee underlying theme is the same thing every single time, then to me, at least, your blog loses some credence.
There is always some worse off than you. You may not think so, but unless you are living under and bridge and you have the ability to post (meaning you have access to a computer, even if it is via a friends home or the library) you are better off than some. I know this to be true so I try rarely to whine about our current predicament(s). This too shall pass.
I want to hear good things. Do not misunderstand me. I know we are not living in a fantasy world, OK, maybe some of you are, but for the most part, we are a realistic folk. But why burden your reading public with your woes. Those of us reading get tired of saying, "I'm feel so bad for you, don't worry things will get better." What if they don't? what if said blogger loses her home, job, vehicle. It's happening all over the place.
So before you put your tiny little digits on that keyboard, think about what your adoring public will say at the end of your post.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Bottoms Up
For those who have never experienced the pleasures of an endoscopy or colonoscopy, let me bring you up to speed. They are not fun. And it is not technically the procedure that is uncomfortable, for you are out for thee entire procedure itself. No, it is the preparation that is worthy of informing the public about.
I truly believe that many of the stomach, colon, bowel, intestinal ailments that get us to this state could be altered by diet alone, but that is for another blog(s).
My husband was given this by one of his friends who has also undergone the procedure. So sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. Thank you Dave Berry.
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, and one point briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, "HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep.' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; but for now, suffice it to say, that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my Preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter as about 32 gallons.)
Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes-and here I am being kind-like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleaner, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowl may result.' This kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even mare naked then when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,00-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. And had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?
said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies.
1. Take it easy doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. Find Amelia Earhart yet?
3. Can you hear me now?
4. Are we there yet, Are we there yet. are we there yet?
5. You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.
6. Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?
7. You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...
8. Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels?
9. If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit.
10. Hey doc, let me know if you find my dignity.
11.You used to be an executive of Enron, didn't you?
12. God, now I know why I am not gay.
And the best one for last:
13. Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?
I truly believe that many of the stomach, colon, bowel, intestinal ailments that get us to this state could be altered by diet alone, but that is for another blog(s).
My husband was given this by one of his friends who has also undergone the procedure. So sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. Thank you Dave Berry.
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, and one point briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, "HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep.' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; but for now, suffice it to say, that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my Preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter as about 32 gallons.)
Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes-and here I am being kind-like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleaner, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowl may result.' This kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even mare naked then when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,00-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. And had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?
said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies.
1. Take it easy doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. Find Amelia Earhart yet?
3. Can you hear me now?
4. Are we there yet, Are we there yet. are we there yet?
5. You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.
6. Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?
7. You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...
8. Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels?
9. If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit.
10. Hey doc, let me know if you find my dignity.
11.You used to be an executive of Enron, didn't you?
12. God, now I know why I am not gay.
And the best one for last:
13. Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?
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