You take your friend to the hospital and they ask at the desk which one is the patient.
Maestro, rim shot, please.
The story starts well before that as the first mission of the day is Walmart and the shopping cart is the way I get away with doing it. The cart keeps me stable and then just take it slow.
The Walmart mission was vital since Yevette had been fasting for her procedure today (no blood, no melodrama) so part of my mission was ensuring there would be chow (i.e. coffee) when she got back.
The beauty part was when I left there and a guy who works there whom I see quite a bit said, as I left, "You know what I like about you? You always have the nicest smile on your face!"
People on Facebook probably think I delight in raining on someone else's parade but that's the nature of Facebook, not me.
That part took an hour and a half which got me back to the house just in time to leave for the hospital and I had no idea what time it was so serendipity kept me alive for that one and I did get her to the church on time.
So that gets us back to the hospital and we have identified Yevette is the patient but the girl at the desk has seen me wobbling around so she asks me if I want a wheelchair. I replied immediately, nooooooo, I have not given up yet! (laughs all 'round)
One delight of any medical procedure is few women will want her purse unsecured, even it it's in a locker, so I carry it. I have fun in this because there are several lines I've got on-store for use if anyone gives a quizzical look and remarks on the purse.
The first is the response to any kind of redneck slam such as 'you suck.'
That's when I get to roll out one of Paul Newman's best lines from "Slapshot:" 'all I can get!' (Then he throws that Newman smile and that will stop anything in its tracks)
That one didn't come into play today but this one did. A younger guy walked by with another employee of the hospital and, smiling, he said, "I love your purse."
With no hesitation whatsoever, "Thank you. Fashion is my life!" (Laughs all 'round)
A little bit of heavy to close:
There's no need to be cagey about the procedure because Yevette isn't. She accepts the need for a colonoscopy since you can dodge it if you like. You may die but it's your prerogative to decline.
Reticence seems to come from some perception of gayness or turning into a homosexual or something as a result of the procedure. Now, I don't know much about what gay guys do but I'm highly positive it ain't fookin' this!
The risk is real. Colon cancer will croak you in possibly one of the last ways you would ever nightmare it happening to you. The colonoscopy is the search party and you need one to keep that terrain scouted. If they can spot it early then they can probably wipe it out so failing to permit the procedure is a true form of Russian roulette.
Yevette stays close with personal information but one aspect of the routine will probably be ok as polyps are a common discovery in a colonoscopy. She reported three were removed and the medicos remove them because of them potentially being future cancer sites.
She split to have dinner with a friend but I'm a bit concerned about the move as I imagine those removal sites will be stinging after the medicine wears off. It's understandable, tho, as she was so hungry after that fast she was ready to eat one of the road signs. How about I gnaw on the seat. Would that be ok?
(If you think of the relationship with me as Onkel Silas, that's close enough. In fact, Jeffrey Lipsky, a friend and highly-talented abstract artist, calls me Uncle Alan or Silas and why not. What I'm thinking is big coolness if V contacts him on Facebook and he will likely make the connection anyway but if she says Uncle Alan, he will know.)
Note: I use the real name in this instance because it's what he uses on Facebook so it would be senseless to be cagey or how should V find him. His work is for sale and it's well worth reviewing so publicity will do him no harm at all. It's exciting, vibrant work and I highly recommend it. He often paints on a musical theme and the portrait is all-out jazz.
When you get the letter and you will get one after you pass fifty, heed it. This isn't a question of choice but a question of life. It's not funny, it's just one more bullshit task that goes with the territory. Wimps rarely get old and if you wimp out on this then (cough) you take the chance you won't either.
Sorry but this kind of torques me a bit because it's so silly and yet so potentially deadly. I really don't understand why it's bad if a doctor pokes your bum with something but it's ok if he plays with your balls. Dude ... check yo'self! (larfs)
Maestro, rim shot, please.
The story starts well before that as the first mission of the day is Walmart and the shopping cart is the way I get away with doing it. The cart keeps me stable and then just take it slow.
The Walmart mission was vital since Yevette had been fasting for her procedure today (no blood, no melodrama) so part of my mission was ensuring there would be chow (i.e. coffee) when she got back.
The beauty part was when I left there and a guy who works there whom I see quite a bit said, as I left, "You know what I like about you? You always have the nicest smile on your face!"
People on Facebook probably think I delight in raining on someone else's parade but that's the nature of Facebook, not me.
That part took an hour and a half which got me back to the house just in time to leave for the hospital and I had no idea what time it was so serendipity kept me alive for that one and I did get her to the church on time.
So that gets us back to the hospital and we have identified Yevette is the patient but the girl at the desk has seen me wobbling around so she asks me if I want a wheelchair. I replied immediately, nooooooo, I have not given up yet! (laughs all 'round)
One delight of any medical procedure is few women will want her purse unsecured, even it it's in a locker, so I carry it. I have fun in this because there are several lines I've got on-store for use if anyone gives a quizzical look and remarks on the purse.
The first is the response to any kind of redneck slam such as 'you suck.'
That's when I get to roll out one of Paul Newman's best lines from "Slapshot:" 'all I can get!' (Then he throws that Newman smile and that will stop anything in its tracks)
That one didn't come into play today but this one did. A younger guy walked by with another employee of the hospital and, smiling, he said, "I love your purse."
With no hesitation whatsoever, "Thank you. Fashion is my life!" (Laughs all 'round)
A little bit of heavy to close:
There's no need to be cagey about the procedure because Yevette isn't. She accepts the need for a colonoscopy since you can dodge it if you like. You may die but it's your prerogative to decline.
Reticence seems to come from some perception of gayness or turning into a homosexual or something as a result of the procedure. Now, I don't know much about what gay guys do but I'm highly positive it ain't fookin' this!
The risk is real. Colon cancer will croak you in possibly one of the last ways you would ever nightmare it happening to you. The colonoscopy is the search party and you need one to keep that terrain scouted. If they can spot it early then they can probably wipe it out so failing to permit the procedure is a true form of Russian roulette.
Yevette stays close with personal information but one aspect of the routine will probably be ok as polyps are a common discovery in a colonoscopy. She reported three were removed and the medicos remove them because of them potentially being future cancer sites.
She split to have dinner with a friend but I'm a bit concerned about the move as I imagine those removal sites will be stinging after the medicine wears off. It's understandable, tho, as she was so hungry after that fast she was ready to eat one of the road signs. How about I gnaw on the seat. Would that be ok?
(If you think of the relationship with me as Onkel Silas, that's close enough. In fact, Jeffrey Lipsky, a friend and highly-talented abstract artist, calls me Uncle Alan or Silas and why not. What I'm thinking is big coolness if V contacts him on Facebook and he will likely make the connection anyway but if she says Uncle Alan, he will know.)
Note: I use the real name in this instance because it's what he uses on Facebook so it would be senseless to be cagey or how should V find him. His work is for sale and it's well worth reviewing so publicity will do him no harm at all. It's exciting, vibrant work and I highly recommend it. He often paints on a musical theme and the portrait is all-out jazz.
When you get the letter and you will get one after you pass fifty, heed it. This isn't a question of choice but a question of life. It's not funny, it's just one more bullshit task that goes with the territory. Wimps rarely get old and if you wimp out on this then (cough) you take the chance you won't either.
Sorry but this kind of torques me a bit because it's so silly and yet so potentially deadly. I really don't understand why it's bad if a doctor pokes your bum with something but it's ok if he plays with your balls. Dude ... check yo'self! (larfs)
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