Colonoscopies: Giving a Shit

by Tonia

I finally decided to get a colonoscopy. Eleven years overdue, I’d run out of excuses. I know what you’re thinking – how come she has all the fun? Ugh. I’ve been looking forward to this about as much as a root canal or an IRS audit - even being buried alive in sand with ants crawling all over my head somehow seemed less dreadful.

But I did my research and found the cutest…..I mean, most competent gastroenterologist I could find. He had excellent reviews. Too bad he was just going to see me as an asshole.

I told some of my girlfriends I was going (BIG mistake). They joked that they couldn’t tell the doctor to go boldly where no man had ever gone before because that just wasn’t true. Dammit! I tell them WAY too much……

So the time got close and I started on my day of clear liquids. Chicken broth, tea, apple juice. Vodka. (KIDDING!) I can’t tell you the number of times I went to the pantry and ‘frig to get something to eat and then remembered that I was grounded. Grrrrrr…. Anyone who says fasting draws attention away from physical needs to spiritual concerns didn’t have MY growling stomach!

Then came the time to drink my first prep. Holy Mother of God, that shit was DISGUSTING! It tasted like some kind of salty, fermented cyanide……except that I didn’t die. I only wished I could.

And it was about then that I realized something was wrong with my car and I needed to call a tow truck. It took the guy awhile to arrive and during that “while” my intestines began to explode. Seriously. It made my most urgent urine stream seem like cute little dribbles. I can only describe it as the kind of force that one sees when testing fire hydrants. If I had been outside and bent over, it would have knocked down large pets and small children.

But the tow truck guy was knocking at my door. As soon as I could, I got up from the toilet and explained where I wanted my car to go. I said I would not be accompanying him, however, because I had to stay close to the bathroom. And THAT understatement, my friends, ranks right up there with Astronaut Jim Lovell’s, “Houston, we’ve got a problem” when Apollo 13’s oxygen tank exploded.

I’ll spare you the description of the next 14 hours but, let’s just say that at the end of it, no one could tell me I was full of shit. It just wasn’t true.

Anna drove me to the procedure. I wanted to draw a bull’s-eye around the target so the cute doctor wouldn’t mistake one of my cellulite dimples for my asshole. Or, at the very least, I wanted to write a message on my ass, “This isn’t my best side.” But, alas, it all happened so quickly that I had no time. I woke up and it was over.

So I did it. My results were good. Now everyone can get off my ass about it!

And, in honor of colonoscopies, for your next girlfriends’ get-together, have a Healthy Gut potluck. Ask everyone to bring fiber-rich foods, citrus fruits, and foods that contain probiotics (yogurt, miso, etc). Then honor the wisdom of your “gut” by talking about times when your gut feelings were accurate despite evidence to the contrary!

Don't Eat Me

by Tonia

“I would not drink bottles of water at my mom's house because I never knew how long she'd been refilling them from the sink and putting them back in the refrigerator.” – Dan Fogelman

Instead of a boyfriend I have a refrigerator. I have romantic moonlit walks to meet up with it secretly in the middle of the night. We understand one another.

But sometimes relationships have their ups and downs, ya know? Like boyfriends, the ‘frig looks cute and clean from the outside…….but, after awhile, deep within its compartments, it's just bad.

So the day I was fasting for my colonoscopy I decided to clean the fucker (cleaning out the insides of both of us). I would do a little more than just wipe off the front of the shelves. And, for the record, I do try to clean my ‘frig occasionally…..well, maybe 2-3x a year…..OK, maybe less. I don’t know. Let’s not get hung up on the details.

I actually have a theory about what happens to food in refrigerators - it gets sucked into a parallel refrigerator universe, not to be seen again for months…..or, in my case, years. Then it gets dropped out of that alternate universe and left for dead in the very back corner of the lower shelf.....and the middle shelf.....and sometimes the upper shelf. 

So, as I was cleaning and playing What’s That Vegetable, I wondered: when exactly does the edible become the inedible? When it changes colors or when it grows things or when it starts to smell? And at what point does a single woman’s refrigerator start to look like a frat house’s refrigerator? And why hasn’t someone invented disposable refrigerators? I pondered these things as I pulled my arm off some sticky stuff on the ‘frig walls.

In my cleaning, I discovered things from 2003 (threw those away). There were also Tupperware containers I wisely decided not to open because I had no gas mask readily available. I just pitched them, containers and all. I can buy more Tupperware later.

How does one know when it's time to clean the frig? Here are some clues (you're welcome!):

·       -----No light escapes when you open the door at night

·       -----You’d rather be hit by car than open the refrigerator door

·       -----You think you had an Elvis sighting in there

·       -----The vegetable drawer looks like an undiscovered rain forest

·       -----Something pulls the door shut from the inside

And, now that I'm finished cleaning the 'frig, I like to go into the kitchen just to open the door and see the brilliance! Maybe I’ll tackle the oven next……….uh..........well........nah!!

And, for your next girlfriends’ get-together, have a tacky left-over dinner party. Ask girlfriends to bring their left-overs or any food with the word “product” on the label (i.e. “pasteurized prepared cheese product”). Set out foods in aerosol cans (i.e. whipped cream, Cheez Whiz, etc.) and serve some kind of potted meat. Drink heavily!!