"If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane!" ~Jimmy Buffett

I often have to remind myself of this quote, as I'm notorious for letting the little things in life stress me out.  Sometimes we find ourselves in circumstances where all you can do is sit back and laugh!  Stressing out won't make it any better, so why not find the humor in the situation?!  I hope this post won't be offensive to anyone, and if it is, I suggest you take my advice and lighten up!! =)

I've been very candid and transparent about my health issues and my need for yearly colonoscopies due to my battle with Crohn's Disease.  I even blogged about my recent colonoscopy HERE.  Although I think it's EXTREMELY important for everyone to have them done, I'm not lying when I say the whole experience is quite humbling!  I figure I really have no choice but to try and find the humor in an otherwise uncomfortable and embarrassing situation!  I wish I could take credit for writing what I'm about to share with you, but I cannot.  It was actually written by Dave Barry who is a Pulitzer Prize Winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.  My Dad sent this to me in an e-mail today and I literally found myself laughing out loud!!!  If you've ever had a colonoscopy, you can totally and completely identify with everything the writer says!  So as I said, if this offends you I do apologize, but it's a part of my life and always will be so I am choosing to laugh rather than cry! =)

> Colonoscopy Journal:
>
> I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
> appointment for a colonoscopy.
>
> A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the
> colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one
> point passing briefly through Minneapolis.
>
> Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
> reassuring and patient manner.
>
> I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said,
> because my brain was shrieking, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET
> UP YOUR BEHIND!'
>
> I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription
> for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to
> hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now
> suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of
> America's enemies.
>
> I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
>
> Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In
> accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day;
> all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less
> flavor..
>
> Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder
> together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm
> water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32
> gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an
> hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a
> mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
>
> The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great
> sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel
> movement may result.'
>
> This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may
> experience contact with the ground.>
>
> MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative.. I don't want to be too graphic, here,
> but, have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the
> MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you
> wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much
> confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything.
> And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink
> another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your
> bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have
> not even eaten yet.
>
> After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
>
> The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not
> only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing
> occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I
> spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like
> that? Flowers would not be enough.
>
> At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood
> and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led
> me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a
> little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those
> hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you
> put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually
> naked.
>
> Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
> Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was
> already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in
> their MoviPrep.
>
> At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I
> pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to
> the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You
> would have no choice but to burn your house.
>
> When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room,
> where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not
> see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there
> somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.
>
> Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began
> hooking something up to the needle in my hand.
>
> There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was
> 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that
> could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had
> to be the least appropriate.
>
> 'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me.
>
> 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading
> for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because
> I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
>
> I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling
> 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I
> was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.
>
> Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent.
> I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that IT was all over, and
> that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder
> of an internal organ.