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DaRk AnGel : Why Home : August 2006 : A@@h^l$ Doctor

A@@h^l$ Doctor

We all know what an examination table at a doctors office looks like. At one end is the pillow and at the other end is the little step and the place to hook in the stirrups.

I am here to tell you that little step is evil and it is not a step at all. It is where you put your knees. Then you lean over the end of the table, and they raise it. After exposing your rear end they stick a cork type thing in there and inflate. Once fully inflated, to the point where you feel like you are going to shoot the damn cork out with a tremendous fart, they then stick a scope up you..

I had a colonoscope today. It is the second time I have ever had one. It is definitely the last. I find the whole thing humiliating and distasteful. I kept hoping to blow the damn cork out and hit that sadist in his head with it.

Now who in the world grows up wanting to look up that end of people?

I have not been 100 percent lately and I went to my internist yesterday. He finally realized that I have been not real truthful with him about the last time I had one of these things done. In actuality it was in 1987. I swore then never again. And since it was that end of me that was causing problems he insisted I have this procedure done.

My doctor is as stubborn as a mule, and more so than I. Regardless of my arguments, he played a trump card.

If you want to remain my patient you will have this done, he commanded - Ex marine S.O.B. that he is.

I acquiesced simply because I like him as a doctor, not to mention his wife is my neurologist. He is a good man. Even under that gruff exterior, even though he has yelled at me several times during our relationship, he has my respect. Oh and I yelled back.

My argument to having the procedure done, is simply this. My quality of life is border line of what I want. If anything else crops up, I am going to refuse treatment. So why bother having the DAMN TEST.

My mother battled incurable diseases for the last 14 years of her life. And I watched as she made the decision that quality is far better than quantity. At that time she was taking Chemo every three weeks, but after words was sick as a dog for 12 days. I mean bed ridden, messing on herself, hallucinating type sick.

I hated the thought of my mother dying. But I sure learned to respect her for her decision and conviction.

And I have a expectation of quality of life for me.. And if that line is crossed, I choose to no longer prolong my life. Period. So why test for anything, if I am going to refuse treatment. And why put myself through anything as humiliating as what I did, to find out if I have prostrate cancer or polyps. Truth is I would rather not know if I do.

It has been a shitty day to say the least.

At least it rained and never got near 100 degrees. Still though I feel like I have been a victim of a home invasion.

I could never be gay that is for sure..

And as the procedure was being done, I had to bite my lip. I had several comments I would like to have made to that sadist.. But I kept mum. After all he had control of the pump and I would have hated exploding.