Favorite personal physician Chris Thompson had to repeat his question: "How long has it been since you've had a c - o - l - o - n - o - s - c - o -p - y?"
"I've never, ever had one of those," I chortled curtly. "Wouldn't know where to go to get one, do they keep 'em in stock down at neighbor Ginny William's Ace Hardware Store?"
Doc's eyes may have crossed a bit in wonderment at my ignorance.
In looking back on one of my most memorable doctor office visits, it's likely my eyes looked like a "deer in headlights" when medical healer explained that with a colonoscopy some high-tech trained specialized medical folks with super brains would run a garden hose up my backside with a flash light attached to the end to peer all around after negotiating miles and miles of curvy roads (my internal intestines).
"Whow!!" I exhaled with at least two exclamation symbols.
Those weren't Doc's exact words, but the message was close.Not wanting to appear plumb dumb and too ignorant, I waited to ask a buddy, who I knew to be a colonoscopy veteran, just how far they run that garden hose up where the sun never shines, like on the valley down below Short Mountain.
"If you have the procedure done in Woodbury, that garden hose is long enough, that it would twist and turn all the way to and through the community of Gassaway on Highway 53 North," my source shared during our consult down at the pool hall.
"That hose is long enough to stretch all the way from Smyrna to Gassaway," confirmed 'Eight Ball', the pool hall proprietor who knows all, sees all and tells all.
If we could stand Eight Ball and his mouth up on a downtown street corner, there'd be no need for this community's newspaper and radio station.
I spent the next week fidgeting, worrying, dreading and pondering my approaching medical procedure. I worried so much that I got securely constipated!
Finally, it was time to go to my favorite "medicinal pill dealer" down at the local drug store, where I nervously handed over Doc Thompson's prescription.
Have you ever tried to cipher chicken scratching out in the barn yard? That's how clear the good doctor's hand-writing is … chicken scratch.
I think the prescription read something like move it on out!!
I did remember to go get some of pal Jim Demos' famous chicken soup, after physician told me to eat only soft food for the 24-hours (seemed like eternity) leading up to the approaching BIG backside event.
Favorite pharmacist wrote out more instructions: "Take this home, pour the powder in one liter of water and drink it."
For folks who don't understand what a "one liter" measurement is it equates to about 55 gallons; at least it seems like 55 gallons when it comes time to consume the exotic concoction.
I read somewhere on the instructions that the mixture might result in a clear, watery bowel movement.
Good golly, about 30 minutes later is when I learned nuclear warfare medicine had found its way to Middle Tennessee!
"Do we need to move your office files, computer and phone in there to you in the bathroom?" pretty wife Patricia offered with a patronizing tone.
I had her repeat the offer because I couldn't hear for the sound of the constant flushing of my newest best friend, the commode!!
In looking back on my recent memorable backside medical procedure, the actual implementation of a "c - o - l - o - n - o - s - c - o - p - y" is nothing compared to the procedures' preparation.