Tuesday, March 20, 2007

A River Runs Through It

For the first time in my adult life I'm not totally full of shit. I have a colonoscopy this afternoon, and the preparation for that procedure is pretty spectacular if you've never done it. If you want to know what it's like, try this: watch the movie "The Ten Commandments" with Charlton Heston, and skip to the part where Moses parts the Red Sea and leads the Hebrews out of Egypt, then fast forward it. That will pretty much give you the idea. Particularly when you get to the part where Yul Brynner and his villainous pals are wiped out by a vengeful God.

I found a lady's wristwatch, the head of a G.I. Joe action figure and an old rusted-out car muffler. Who knew?

The nasty stuff they made me drink to clean out my colon is called "Golytely," Someone somewhere has a very sick sense of humor; I'll never be able to watch "Breakfast at Tiffany's" again. You mix up 4 liters of a clear liquid that tastes like axle grease and drink an 8-ounce glass of it every ten minutes until it's gone. I never knew how much 4 liters really was until last night. It's about 12,834 8-ounce glasses. And ten minutes? Ten minutes takes about two minutes, then you have to drink another one. Every time the microwave timer went off signaling another glass was due there was much wailing, lamentation and rending of garments in the Hulles household, of that you can be sure.

I am going to pass along a tip to you if you've never had a colonoscopy before and are scheduled for one. A week or so before the procedure the jovial colonoscopers send you a printed sheet of detailed instructions in the mail telling you everything you need to do. But they neglect to tell you one important thing: make sure you are not running low on toilet paper. I had to end up wiping my ass with my cat. Good thing she's declawed; that is all I will say on that subject.

But now I have a clean colon. I stuck my head up there and looked around, and the walls are shiny and the floors sparkle. It echos in there too, which is kind of cool. When I went outside this morning to get the paper, the brisk breeze blowing across my asshole caused a kind of mellow fluting sound. I found I could adjust the pitch of this sound with my sphincter and happily stood outside in my robe and played Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor" until I found the red dot of a laser sight on my chest. My neighbors must not appreciate classical music, the swine.

So wish me luck with the procedure itself this afternoon. I am terrified of it, frankly. I am not looking forward to having semitrailer trucks and camera crews and gaffers and best boys and the like shoved up my ass. But glass-half-full guy that I am, I intend to salvage something from the horrendous experience -- I'm going to try and get a copy of the video of my colon and post it here for your edification and viewing enjoyment. In fact, I'm confident it will become one of the more popular videos on YouTube this week. Maybe I can get Charlton Heston to narrate it.

But the thing that really scares me about the colonoscopy is this: what if I like it? What if I can't get enough of it? What if every week or so I have to buy a jug of Golytely on the black market and show up in disguise at the clinic and make them give me yet another deliciously exhilarating colonoscopy? It would be a sad and furtive existence, living on the fringes of society, shunned by my friends who read too many tough-love self-help books, attending Colonoscopoholics Anonymous, "Hi, my name is Hulles and I like medical equipment shoved up my ass," losing my blog to some upstart young puke who is much wittier and more handsome than I am and that Kristen Painter is totally hot for, finally being forced to make my own laxatives from dirt and willow bark and shove a bendable novelty straw up my ass in a desperate and pathetic attempt at one more fix....

However, I am happy to report that it seems pretty unlikely that this will be the case, so both you and my cat can breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

-- Hulles

19 comments:

KAS said...

The only good thing about this happening to you is that you made me laugh out loud (and pee in my pants a little) two weeks before I have to go through this awfulness myself. Hope all went well and that you didn't find a new addiction, forever giving yourself over to medical exploration of your nether regions. I, for one, can't wait to drink an ocean of Golytely ... sounds like a dream come true.

Hulles said...

KAS, they always say that laughter is the best medicine. Even if it isn't the best, I'm pretty sure it's better than Golytely. And damn, that name still pisses me off; I liked "Breakfast at Tiffany's."

Good luck on your upcoming procedure. And I'm not sure about the dream come true part, but regardless, you are about to find out from whence the title of this post comes. XO.

Hulles said...

And also KAS, thank you.

Heather Harper said...

Glass-half-full...of what? ;)

You shouldn't remember the colonoscopy, they give you an amnesiac, so I'm going to worry if you become addicted.

And I hope you have a calico cat. If not, maybe you do now?

Take it easy this evening.

Anonymous said...

At the risk of over-sharing, I once had surgery on my intestine. I feel your pain.

And today on Niccllet Mall I definitely saw the crazy father-seeker from Chasing Windmills. It was thrilling!

Dulcinea said...

Congolytations! (as least it's over)

Kristen Painter said...

Oh. My.

I was reading along quite happily until I saw my name. SO fabulous that I could get a mention in this of all posts. Blow it out yer a--I mean...hope all goes well.

Lollie said...

Poor Mimi...she'll be brushing more than her teeth tonight.

Oh, and good luck!

Anonymous said...

Dang Hulles, sorry you're going through this. Fortunately, I've avoided that particular pleasure but know several folks who've endured the Golytely; I don't think you'll become an addict.

Shame on you for using Mimi as toilet paper! Could you not have grabbed a towel or t-shirt? Sheesh!

downward spiral said...

I had to end up wiping my ass with my cat.


tao of hulles

cK said...

I really wish you'd filmed this for Chasing Windmills!

And that poor cat. I'm assuming this is the same cat about which Unca Don said he'd spotted with concentric bruising around its asshole; and to which you remarked, "My cat's ass walks into a lot of doors."

Indeed.
-cK

EL PADRONE said...

So this is what "de-colonisation" means ? I always wondered why the West Indians were so upset with us.

M.

EL PADRONE said...

PS If you're looking for someone to hand over Kristen Painter to ......

Only joking Hulles ; I've got my hands full at the moment (quite literally).

M.

Casti said...

Hulles, só você consegue despertar risos e ao mesmo tempo preocupação. Espero que corra tudo bem e que esteja bem de saúde. Boa sorte!

Bj do Brasil,
Casti

Eva Gale said...

Oh, my. Will it help if I dress up as a nurse and tell you what a brave and dashing man you are to make such a thing into a witty post?

La Espia T. said...

I doubt your MIL categories will change much. Good luck on the test. Don't forget to breathe. :)

kat said...

i once saw a video of somebody dressed up as santa claus, receiving a colonoscopy. that, and this post, have convinced me that there's always a place for whimsy. even inside of one's own asshole.

Tate said...

There are clinics for people that can't live without a hose stuck up their a** once a week. See http://www.colon-clinic.com/index.html I nearly fell off my chair at the testimonial!

Hulles said...

Heather, half full of Glendronnach scotch, preferably. And that's the only amnesiac I'm going to get, I guess. Too bad. I was hoping to start living a soap opera life, searching for my identity and having affairs right and left. But thanks, and Mimi is actually calico.

Lo, I'm sure yours was worse than mine. And next time you see Steve, the father-seeker, go up and say hi. He's a very interesting and funny guy who likes to read Tolstoy's exclamatory sentences out loud for some reason.

Cristina, yeah, it's good to have that behind me, so to speak. *loud groans from the gallery*

Kristen, thanks, mostly. Thankfully I didn't become overly enamored of the process so you can continue being totally hot for me (avec thigh-high boots, hopefully).

Lollie, yes, Mimi's pretty much back to normal but she still takes off and hides under the bed when she hears the toilet flush.

Missy, thanks. And a tee shirt? Good lord, woman, I wear those things on my body, I'm not going to use one of those.

Anne, Mimi feels its the Tao of Mimi of course. It's all about her.

cK, Chasing Windmills has enough graphic scenes of one flavor or another without mine. And no disparaging my cat's honor in the comments, please.

Merlin, the West Indians are upset with you because you taught them cricket. And I'm keeping Kristen, but thanks for the offer. If I go on vacation and need to board her, I know who to call.

Casti, sim, eu tento manter uma atitude boa. Você ajuda-me fazer este, assim que obrigado. Tudo veio para fora da multa (assim para falar)! Um beijo grande de Hulles.

Eva, you read my mind. Again.

T., thanks lots. I was reminded constantly to breathe; it felt like Lamaze. In more than one way, I suppose.

Kat, yeah, I subscribe to the whimsy-up-the-ass theory myself, obviously. Thanks for popping by as always.

Tate, thanks for the link, but that you found it raises many questions in my mind. I guess I'll wait to raise them until I go to the site....

Thanks all of you for your nice thoughts. Everything went fine.