I want to start off today with my own personal PSA: GET ADEQUATE FIBER IN YOUR DIET!
Ok, so now that I have cleared the air (is that a fiber-related pun? Excuse my mild retardation today, I'm very hungry) I will give you some background which led to my personal health proclimation stated above.
Back in 2007, I was at work for a Fortune 50 financial institution, let's call it Swells Phargo, where I was the white collar equivalent of a snake oil salesman. I would charm, flirt, even lie my way into the lives of people with credit problems and re-write their mortgates sucking up all of the equity in their homes to pay off junk credit debt that you know they would just rack up again. Sub-prime lending was the official term for what I did, and yes, it absolutely was a factor in the recent and current economic woes.
Anyways, as I am busting through my 85+ cold calls a day in my cubicle, I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my lower abdomen that I can only assume is exactly what it feels like to be stabbed. I didn't feel sick, so I instantly tried to recall everything I ate in the last 48 hours to determine if my insides were merely constructing an 'A-Bomb' of a fart, or if I was soon going to be locked in the bathroom growing a 2ft. tail. I stand up after the pain continues and realize immediately I can barely walk. Fast forward a little, I leave work, make it to the doctor's office, yadee yada yada, CT Scan on my pelvic area...
DIAGNOSIS: Diverticulitis - the development of small pockets (diverticuli) along the large intestine/colon wall that will collect digested food, become infected/inflamed causing sever abdominal pain. Diverticulitis can be treated with prescription drugs, but may require surgery in some cases and can be fatal if left untreated.
WHAAAAAA??? This is literally an old person's disease. My doc says 5% of people who get diagnosed with this are under the age of 55. Great! I am one more '-itis' away from showing signs of progeria (look it up, educate yo'self fool!). Some suggest a low-fiber diet can trigger the development of diverticulitis.
Anywho, I feel my doctor has a new slogan for my Diverticulitis: "When problems arise, spread his thighs." That's right people, I'm going in for a COLONOSCOPY tomorrow morning. This scared the living hell out of me the first time I had to do this. Not knowing what to expect, my mind easily started to play tricks on me about the doctor being some perv and violating me with blunt objects, some hot nurse thinking I'm actually cute until she spies my hairy ass, you know, things that happen all the time.
The reality is that the actual colonoscopy is the easiest part! I get to pretend I'm Michael Jackson and get knocked out on Propofol (true), and when I wake up, I am still buzzed from it, and get to eat like a king after not having anything in my system for 36 hours! Win!
Well now for the worst part, which is relatively graphic, so this could be a decent time to stop reading if this is your lunch break, or are a little faint of commentary of the scatacological-variety.
One word lives on in infamy in my mind forever: Prep
No, not the ironed khaki's, sock-less deck shoes wearing, sweater over the shoulders turd monger we all know, I'm talking prep as in what you have to do to PREPare for a camera to go up your ass.
With a list of detailed instructions in front of me, and a prescription in hand, I go to pick up "Movi-prep" from the pharmacy. The name alone scares me. Is it "Movi" in reference to movies because stars do this to prepare for being on camera...wait, is it an even deeper reference for the movie that's about to be shot of my colon when they shove that thing in my brown-eye? Or is this a reference to the rapid 'moving' of things from my body that takes place roughly 30mins after I ingest this stuff?
Simply put, Movi-prep could easily be adopted as a UN-approved torture technique. I could eat an entire box of laxitives and drink a whole pot of coffee and still consider my state as content and pleasant compared to the effects of Movi-prep. My encounter with Movi-prep starts this evening at 6pm (night before the doctor treats my ass like he is churning butter). I will have to mix a huge powder packet with 32oz. of water and drink 8oz. every 15 minutes. Within 30 minutes, it'll be safe to say that I will be in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Its like white water rapids from your butt. Fast, raging, uncontrolled, and mostly water. I actually feel kind of like a girl because I can only describe it as pissing out of my ass. Now, I am aware that girls don't pee out of their ass, but I can only assume this fate of mine is somewhat similar to what girls feel.
This honestly will go on for hours. I will feel like a 'Sham-WOW' in the context that I will be in utter disbelief that something could hold so much liquid and that it just keeps coming out. By the end of the night, I will weigh roughly 7lbs lighter (this lends evidence to my movie star theory of Movi-prep's name...I'm looking at you, Star Jones).
I forgot to mention, dietary restrictions: 36 hours prior to Journey to the Center of the Serb, I have to follow a strict 'Clear Liquids Only' diet. Just writing that made me hungry enough to expect flies to start landing on my face at any moment as Sally Struthers begs you to save me and you will get pictures of my progress.
This diet allows me to have:
Water - Wow! Tantalizing!
Broth - aka salty hobo piss when it is only broth, trust me
Coffee/Tea - no creamers though, so it's not THAT good
Jell-O - no red or purple - NOW YOU'RE JUST BEING CRUEL!
That is my full menu of choices of sustenance for 36 hours. Jealous? I figured you would be so while you're eating your Spicy Chicken Combo at Wendy's at lunch today, I'll be up on the hill calibrating my sniper rifle scope while sucking down a lemon flavored sugarfree Jell-O cup, falling out of my clothes faster than Tara Reid.
You may think I am being a baby, and you're probabaly right, but to see the look I get from co-workers when I tell them why I won't be in tomorrow makes me feel like I just ate a dog shit sandwich and just breathed all over them.
In closing, I will wrap this up with preaching some personal health advice: Make sure you get plenty of, nah screw that! To all you a-holes who won't experience a colonoscopy till you're fify...
PISS OFF! I HATE YOU!
13 hours in, only 23 to go, FML
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