I was told that after certain procedures you should not drive, make financial decisions, or get on social media. Added to that my wife doesn’t want me to go out in public. I wonder why.

My previous gastroenterologist told me about a farmer he once treated that didn’t heed those words of wisdom.

After leaving the hospital he went home, loaded up all his cattle and hauled them off to the auction barn. Then he took that money, drove down to the local car dealership and purchased the biggest, baddest new Cadillac on the lot and returned home.

The next morning he woke and looked out the window to see that brand new Caddie sitting in his driveway. He wondered whose it was and where they were. When he went outside to check things out he noticed all his cattle were missing.

Then it hit him. That dream he’d had wasn’t a dream at all.

Well, today I had such a procedure. Let me rephrase that. I had two such procedures. I had intended to just have an endoscopy, but when I went in for the pre- op visit the PA informed me I was past due for a colonoscopy.

I hate colonoscopies. Especially the prep. I’d just as soon take a beating as to swallow those dreaded preparation liquids. But my father had colon cancer. The memory of what he endured made it a tiny bit easier for me to agree to have both procedures performed at once. So I said, “Sign me up.”

For the past three days I have been in prep mode. My last meal was Sunday at noon. I had a big bowl of chili. I figured chili would be easy to run through the old digestive track. I should have read the paperwork they handed me the day I was in the office. In “hindsight” I highly recommend doing that.

Add to this adventure in swallowing the unswallowable, my dog, Spanky, must have discovered something unusual to gobble up while outside taking care of his business the day before I began the prep.

By Sunday it had begun to work on him. Bless his heart.

That night we awoke to an awful odor wafting through our bedroom. Remember that old commercial, “Is it live, or is it Memorex?” Well... I was wondering if it was me, or was it Spanky. It wasn’t me.

But for the last couple of days Spanky and I have been racing each other to do our duties. I do believe that I have out performed Spanky in that department.

I was confident my doctor would be happy with my due diligence in holding up my end of the procedure. I asked him if he was having a two for one sale when he walked in. He replied, “Only if I get to use the same scope for both, and I do the colonoscopy first.”

Hmmmmm. I thought about it for a moment. Then I remembered I had a good Medicare supplement. “I’ll pass.”

“I thought you would. “

It went well. Kinda. He told my wife not to let me have chili before the next procedure in three years. Evidently the bean fragments tend to hang tight. I didn’t know. I would tell you more if it wasn’t for that Hipaa rule. Believe it or not, I don’t tell everything.

However, the good news is that I didn’t sell any cattle today. Tina made certain I didn’t leave the house. For a while I was considering selling Spanky, but he has had no accidents in the house today.

I’m glad this day is over. I’m pooped.

Just wondering, have you ever wondered why they are called gastroenterologist instead of astrologist. The English language is a mysterious thing.

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Rick Algood
October 29, 2019