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, quote,

'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, 2 liters 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 t o 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.

ABOUT THE WRITER:

Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for

the Miami Herald.

On the subject of Colonoscopies...

Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the

exam were quite humorous... A physician claimed that the

following are actual comments made by his patients

(predominately male) while he was performing their

colonoscopies:

1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no
   
   man has gone before!
   
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
   
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
   
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there
   
   yet?'
   
5. 'You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally
   
   married.'
   
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
   
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand
   
   out...'
   
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
   
   
9. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
   
   
10. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't
    
    you?'
    
    
    And the best one of all.
    
    
    Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head
    
    was not there.