Medical Mayhem:
Big T Gets A Big Camera Up His Bum
This story is not for the faint of heart and if you don’t like butt-imagery and comments about colons and anuses, then you should skip this little excursion into the life of T.
One day when I was visiting my dad, he said that he had to go into surgery. When I asked why, he responded in saying that he had polyps in his colon and needed to have them removed because they can grow into cancer. He also said that if I ever find any blood in my poop then I should tell someone as polyps are hereditary and he may have given them to me. Several weeks later, in my home: I had just returned from a 16-slice massacre from Godfathers and I had to use the potty. When the deed was done, I had found a scary little surprise inside of the toilet, BLOOD. Hereditary Drop-Kick or Coincidental Karate-Chop? Only time would tell…
Next, I had to inform someone. Yes, I had to go up to my mom and say that there was a bloody mess left in the toilet that I had just used. Following that my mom had to make some phone calls that led me to go to the doctor’s office. At the office I waited a long time when finally I was taken to a room where a cool friendly old guy asked my questions like: “How thick was the blood?”, “How frequent was the bleeding?”, “How dark was the blood?”, and “Was the blood inside or outside of the feces?” Trying not to giggle, I answered as best as I could. It’s not like I reached into the toilet to feel the blood to feces ratio. Then the doctor said that he had to perform a few tests. He just took my heart rate, blood pressure, height, weigh, things like that. Then out of the blue he said that he needed some kind of sample on which some doctors could perform some tests. My body went cold. It was just me and some old dude. I sized him up a bit. I was pretty confident that I could take him and make a break for the exit. But then reality kicked in and the doctor asked me to drop my trousers and place my elbows on the table. I heard the snap of latex and the squirting of lubricant out of a tube. He took several steps closer to me then…WHAMMO! Old dude fingers had just penetrated my anus! He needed a good sample, so he had to scrape all around the inside of my colon. When I think back on this moment, I feel less sorry for myself and more sorry for the doctor. Having to stick your fingers in to a sweaty teenager’s bum is probably as bad as receiving it.
After some more questions the doctor said that it was probably nothing, but they would like to set me up for a Sigmoidoscopy just to be sure. He explained to me that I would have to go a day without eating (impossible!) and would have to take some incredibly potent laxatives and finally give myself two, count ‘em, TWO enemas. So the day before the Sigmoidoscopy I had to eat nothing and had to take some of the laxatives. I tell ya, 300 bran muffins, 400 bowls of chili, and 1000 gallons of coffee don’t add up to the potency of those laxatives. So after spending the later half of that day on the toilet I went to bed. When I awoke I was faced with the challenge of giving myself two enemas. For nearly thirty minutes I had to figure out a means to contort my body in such a way that I could do the deed. Then after that they expected me to hold it for twenty minutes. Imagine that your whole colon is filled with mercury, and that you just digested forty ball bearings. It felt like that and they expected me to hold it for twenty full minutes! Super-man on steroids couldn’t do that. I got about three minutes in before I caved. Then I had to do the whole ordeal over again.
After the enemas it was off to the clinic. When I got there, the doctor told me to take off my pants and cover myself with the towel they provided. After shaking nervously for around ten minutes in a room with a nurse who tried not to look at me too much, the doctor finally arrived. He told me to relax and that after several pushes of the camera he had to blast air into my colon so that it would expand. It was pretty cool being able to see inside my colon, but I didn’t see too much of it as I spent most of the time concentrating on my breathing with my eyes clinched shut. After what seemed like miles of medical equipment went into my anus it was ejected from my body faster than the laxatives could ever possibly imagine to attempt in the world of regularity.
The doctor said that the reason there was blood in my feces was that I had two internal hemorrhoids. They are painless and come about due to strenuous physical exertion. This was probably from all the grave dancing I do. So even after having a large camera up my butt, I still had the matter of resolving the two hemorrhoids. So I was prescribed a dosage of suppositories that I had to take twice daily. The cover on the suppositories has the funniest warning label I’ve ever seen. It has a picture of a guy hunched over and an arrow pointing to his hind end. Above the image it says “For RECTAL use only.” Upon finishing up, the doctor told me that he had blasted a lot of air into my colon and that I should just cut loose. So I did. I set a personal best of a thirty second long fart on the way home from the clinic.
The End
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