 I need a clollol, cohollo, colossaloscoWHAT?
by Carol Wood
Yes, I know, I should have written a column long before this. I have, I just haven't posted them. I have a good excuse. I haven't been feeling well. Which brings me to the reason why I am writing this column.
The doctors office
Ignoring the pain in my back wasn't working. So after a few months of little to no sleep, I decided to go to the doctor's office and tell him what was wrong with me. Doctors never know anything. You have to tell them so much and then it's just a big guessing game, so I come right out and tell them what I think it is, so we can be done with all that.
"I think it's my kidneys. Yeah, it's my kidneys."
"But your kidneys are up here."
"It's probably a kidney infection."
"But your pain is lower in your hips."
"Yes, but it's probably a kidney infection. I know it's my kidneys."
So he sent me for a renal scan and told me to... "Are you over 50?"
"Isn't that a rather rude question?"
 He raised his eyebrow at me and read my chart, "It's just routine for people over fifty like you to get a colonoscopy. Make an appointment for one."
"A column what?"
"A colonoscopy. It's just a little hose. I don't know WHAT YOU people get all upset about."
I heard the word hose and I didn't hear anything else. I'm sure my face drained of all color. Pictures of hoses suddenly flashed in my head, like garden hoses and worse, FIRE hoses. My eyes were expanding in my face when the doctor looked up and said, "It's just a little hose this big." he smirked and put his fingers close together. "It has a camera on the end of it and..."
I heard the word camera and started picturing how my camera would, um... fit. I mean, it's at least 5 inches across!
He looked at me again and said "It's miniturized! The Camera is miniature! Make an appointment!"
THE PANIC
Now, normally everyone knows that I am a very brave person and have leapt into unfathomed waters to save a life. I would jump in front of a bus to save a puppy or possibly a doll, especially if it was Betsy McCall. I'm very brave when it comes to other people or life forms or things I believe are alive like lettuce. Saving my own life is a totally different story. It involves sheer panic.
For instance, there was the size of the hose to consider and having a doctor and his nurses titter over my massive deirreire and innards. And how far up does this camera go to take pictures? How long does it take to take said pictures and ... how do they do it with all that shhhh... stuff in there? So I began to panic seriously.
But, there is a good reason for panic. In the last four years, my family seems to think that there is a sale on cancer and every one has to get their copy before they all sell out. I'm the only person that hasn't succombed to the family fad. I feel like my number is coming up. So when I had serious pain that woke me up at night, well, I ignored it.
It's quite logical.
As it turns out, I'm not really afraid of hoses, just discovering what it is that is wrong. So six months later, after the renal scan proved that well, yes, I have kidneys, I haven't gotten the colossaloscopy yet.
Making the Appointment
Last week, I got some sleep. I suddenly realized that I wasn't hurting as much and possibly, I was getting better without any hoses. What a relief, so I called the collumnosco, colo, collu... the hini doctor. I figure he isn't going to find anything, so it's okay to call now.
But first (and that's a big butt) I called my sister the nurse. "Oh yeah, CA, it's nothing. They give you some stuff to drink and then you sit yourself down in the bathroom with a book and you sh... your brains out. Be sure and bring A&D ointment in there with you."
"Why is that?"
"After you go and go and go... It's like fire!"
"Oh."
So I called the doctor the next day figuring I was prepared. I would buy A&D and take Bruce's book with me. I felt fortified.
A young woman answered the phone "Oh, yeah, this is the doctor's office. Oh, you want to make an appointment? Oh, is this standard or are is their a problem?"
Well, there was a problem, but it was getting better and there was no way to judge without going... in there and looking and seeing whether the problem was related. As a matter of fact my doctor seemed to think it was more to do with my hips than anything else.
"It's routine." I said. "I'm making appointments for me and my husband."
Glenn sat behind me as I said "my husband" I heard him sit straight up like he was thinking of hoses.
"Well, the woman that you need to speak to isn't here now, so, oh, uh, Can you call back tomorrow?"
"Sure!" I shouted into the phone as I was flooded with relief. I dodged that bullet one more time.
The third week
So now, I've called and left messages several times with the, uh, oh, um, doctor's assistant. She keeps reassuring me that I will get a call back, but it's been three weeks and I'm beginning to think... they don't want my hini.
It's obvious.
Someone has talked!
Someone told them about the fart that was heard around the world! Someone has informed the doctor that my colon has colossal power! Someone has ratted on my behind. Someone has tattled about my prowess as a professional Fhatar! Someone told them that I was formerly a MULGREW!
I may never get an appointment.
That’s it from LaLaLand.
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