I’ll stick with an apple a day

November 2006

There comes a Moment in every real man’s life when he has to look deep, deep inside himself and see what’s really there.

It’s called a colonoscopy. And apparently it’s legal in many states.

But first some backstory.  Like most men I schedule my annual physical exam dutifully every 6 years or so.  Minor medical problems - which I define as those without medicines advertised during sporting events on TV – are meant to be endured with stoic sniveling and pathetic attention-begging until our spouse threatens to reformat our hard drives.

Oh yeah? – well, that’s what spouses threaten in my house.

One problem with this approach to medicine is we guys often don’t get very attached to the actual service provider. In our part of the woods, doctors come and doctors go.  Mostly back to their own countries, I think.

So when I passed a certain age, I succumbed to the fad of the moment and agreed to have a “checkup”. Since my last doctor – caustically referred to among my friends as Arthur “Big Hands” Johnson – had moved to places unknown, I asked some of my friends about their physicians.

Imagine my astonishment when they could name several area urologists, but no family doctors. Hmmm, I thought. 

Anyhoo, acting on a tip from one of Jan’s exercise friends I called up a Dr. Dennie Lim.  I was sure old Dennis and I could come to an understanding and he would sign off on my vital signs with a gentlemanly wink.

But as luck would have it, as I was waiting in the exam room checking out the posters depicting what people looked like without any skin, a young girl knocked perfunctorily and burst into the room with a flurry of introductions and questions. 

I edged back warily. “Look, miss – there’s been a mistake” I replied kindly, “This is my waiting room, and I’m sure Doc Lim will point out yours to you if you ask.”

She drew herself up to her full 62 inches, offered her credentials, and whipped out a stethoscope while pulling on rubber gloves.

Over the course of the next few minutes I was poked, prodded, and bled – and sometimes just for fun I think. Dr. Lim asked all those questions to which we both knew the answers to see if I would respond like a man, or tell the truth.

It was like dental assistants asking if you floss. They know already – it’s just important for them to force you to admit it. Boy, do they have issues!

We reached a point in the interview that remains etched in my memory. “You know,” the doctor said thoughtfully, “men your age need to have a colonoscopy for preventative reasons.”  To prevent what, I thought bitterly – happiness?

Actually, I did know. I visit webmd.com on a regular basis. By the way, here’s a hint for your next visit to your doctor: come armed with a list possible aliments gleaned from doing your homework on the Internet. They love to debate amateurs.

Another trick is to ask what a procedure costs. Doctors hate that. Eyebrows shoot up and inevitably they bleat, “You don’t have insurance?” This is the deadliest of all possibly health problems. Lately, thanks to HSA policies, medical providers actually have guesses, but it’s still fun to spin them up.

I found I would be paying about $3000 to boldly go on this unsentimental journey. For the benefit of readers who might be anxious about a similar directive from their physician, let me reassure you, the procedure is simple and painless. I think.

You see, for a colonoscopy medicine has invented a special drug, called Versed which is not only a potent sedative, but prevents the formation of memories. You can’t remember anything and you don’t care. As such it merely reinforces what it is like to be a man. Here’s how it goes down (so to speak):

I spent one sad day very close to a bathroom drinking cocktails of unexciting ingredients to promote – indeed, command – “cleansing”.  This continued merrily all through the day Monday.  And the night. 

Early Tuesday morning I reported to a surgical center and within minutes was wrapped in a charming, but poorly designed gown, and plugged into an IV.  Various nurses wearing those colorful jammies so popular with medical professionals would stop by to explain stuff and get my signature. Then they wheeled me into a “procedure” room and the nurse squirted some stuff into my IV. Some dude came in and introduced himself… and, um…they…

Wait – let me start over. I woke up and got into the car. Jan drove me to this place. I remember taking off my shoes…and then…uh…

No, hang on, I’ll get this. I know I went to church on Sunday. I guess I came home afterwards…

Anyway, I somehow made it to Wednesday and I’m pretty sure I had a colonoscopy. 

I was very brave.

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