Hope I Get Asked Back

 

  Yep, it was time again earlier this week.  I had put it off longer than the recommendation and had not been made fearful by a “you’re overdue and consequences may be severe” letter from the office.  Well, not fearful till I finally scheduled the dang thing.  Started to think about a friend who recently left this world because he’d put it off a bit too long.

  You know how your mind works.  As the appointment drew near, I began to consider rescheduling because our insurance will soon change and if it was to be that something nasty was lurking within, the transition could prove problematic and/or expensive.  Being a college grad I realized that was stupid.

  Night before, I opened the prep kit and read the instructions.  “Sulfate salts provide sulfate anions, which are poorly absorbed.  The osmotic effect of unabsorbed sulfate anions and the associated cations causes water to be retained within the gastrointestinal tract.”  You can say that again.  I was so squeaky clean that wife, little black angel, and I took a five mile run early in the AM before my 7:00 inspection.

  Was soon there, signed voluminous “hold harmless” sorts of documents, changed into one of those gowns that would only flatter a Reef model (www.reef.com/culture/miss-reef), had IV inserted, and was rolled into the chamber where several smiling faces looked down upon me.  Very strange sort of perspective.  And it got stranger.

  There was a big screen and pretty soon we were all watching something that looked exactly like when, in Star Wars, Han Solo piloted the Millennium Falcon through a deep cavern which turned out to be the bowel of a huge beast.  Remember that?  Anyway, Doc kept making comments in the manor of a geologist following a vein.

  He found nothing of interest.  Not even one bit to clip off and send to a lab.  I was under the influence of something certainly, but just as obviously had some level of awareness and so a quick feeling of relief gave way to a few jokes.  I’m not sure, but think that I told a favorite involving mice in a bar, a cat, sex, and the f-bomb.

  Doc said, “see you in five years”, but I guess I hope I didn’t offend anyone present, my file doesn’t get “lost”, and I do in fact get asked back. Everything considered, it wasn’t all that bad.

    

 

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