Colonoscopy-certainly not a four letter word, but I swear by it. Instead of using God's name in vain, I use this expression; Colonoscopy damn it!
If I'm really mad I'll replace the "queen mother of dirty words," as it's referred to in the popular movie, "A Christmas Story," with my new one; Oooo...colonoscopyyyy. Or, as you may remember from your elementary school days, Colonoscopy You! Now that's something hefty to write in drying cement in front of your nasty neighbor's house.
It's the present day, "A pox on you!" Only wishing small pox on someone is terrible, where wishing a helpful medical procedure on someone is...that's right, that's where this is leading.., "A colonoscopy on you!" See it as good wishes on those over 50.
My father died of a rare, and apparently genetic, type of colon cancer at 30. I've been getting the non-invasive (believe it or not) procedure yearly since I was 32. My buddy, Dr. Warren Werbitt, has kept cancer away from my body with his acursed scope ever since.
Joking about this unpleasant subject helps me cope with my yearly visits to the surgical center. I see humor in myself as a prissy, straight-laced Sunday school teacher who agrees to have a lighted tube with a camera inserted, along with shooting air for better visualization. Talk about humbling. The pictures Dr. W. shows me at my follow up visits are interesting though. I won't mention the annual upper endoscopy. You may let that picture play in your head.
This year was actually fun. The son I prayed to see grow to adulthood eighteen years ago, drove me to the center. When I heard a deep rumbling coming around the corner, I knew he was bringing his '84 neon green Ford monster truck to get momma.
Even without a handle to grab onto, I climbed up into the cab before he came around to hoist me the four feet into Old Nessy (short for Lock Ness Monster).
Once at the surgical center, the drop for this old gal from that old green gal, made me chuckle as I slid down with a prayer to avoid other surgical needs. I slammed her door, realizing how many of my prayers had been answered, and entered the surgical center.
And so to my sister who shares my genetic pool, and has turned fifty this year: "A colonoscopy on you!" Don't make me write it in your cement.