An Asterisk to Dave Barry’s Colonoscopy Essay

Cheri Thacker

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, only this time while sober.  I want to be Dave Barry—without the man parts.  As a new writer, I kept hearing over and over in my head the mantra “write what you know.”  Actually, it was Chief repeating it over and over in my ear because he grew tired of the sight of me in front of my computer wearing only a bathrobe and a blank stare.  I looked around at the fodder my family provided.  Bingo!  I’d write about them.

I posted my first piece and everyone praised my humor skills.  It was a serious piece, and since I didn’t purvey that tone, I decided it might be better if I hone in on the funny.

So I went to the library and came across Miami Herald’s humor columnist Dave Barry’s books.  I checked a few out and curled up in bed that night to read.  The man is exceptionally gifted, or really warped, or has access to some really good hallucinogenic drugs, and I couldn’t stop laughing.  Suddenly, I recalled I’d read his colonoscopy essay and I knew this man would now, and forever be, my humor idol because anyone that can turn that experience into a laugh is worthy of worship.

Basically I’m saying I blame Dave Barry for my humor writing career.

Last week, on the eve of my second colonoscopy, I treated myself to another read of Dave’s colonoscopy essay right before I downed my MoviPrep concoction—a nuclear laxative as Dave describes—mixed  with margarita flavored Crystal Light.

Sipping margaritas on the patio of El Patron will never be the same since I ruined the happening by associating an intoxicating experience with the toxic tribulation trial of MoviPrep.  I swear I passed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich I ate in third grade and next Thursday’s dinner menu which hasn’t yet been consumed.

Two hours later, as I sat leaning forward as far as possible on the porcelain portal, I realized Dave’s experience wasn’t exactly the same as mine. Dave has a handy-dandy picnic gadget—I assume but I haven’t fact-checked the information—to use for other elimination functions not involving MoviPrep.

For a female, going Number #1 when your delicate nether-region has been awakened like a snoozing volcano is like pouring gasoline on top of lighter fluid on top of a raging forest fire.

According to Chief, the sounds that came from the bathroom sounded like a wild animal trapped in a raging forest fire while someone poured gasoline on top of lighter fluid on top of the fire.

Maybe I’ll rethink those man parts after all.

So here’s Mama Bread Baker’s public service announcement for 2013.  If you’re over 50 (which I’m not in number but apparently I am in “colon-age”) get your screening.  It can save your life.

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9 thoughts on “An Asterisk to Dave Barry’s Colonoscopy Essay”

  1. I have had more than one colonoscopy, and a couple of endoscopies as well. My tummy and digestive tract took a beating over the years and now they are both saying, “Give us a rest. We’re too old for this!”

    Yes, the worst part of the colonoscopy was the preparation. The first glassfuls of that vile concoction went down okay, but after a few hours of having to drink a whole glass of it every hour on the hour, it was “hold your nose and gulp it” — and live in the bathroom.

    The anesthesiologist didn’t put me completely out, but the stuff she gave me made me feel so good that they could have run over me with a Sherman tank and I wouldn’t have cared. At one point in the procedure, I was so high that I actually said to them, “That almost felt good!”

    I couldn’t see the gastroenterologist because I had my back turned to him, but the look on the anesthesiologist’s face was, like, “What the hell did she just say?” Neither one of them answered me.

  2. Oh Crap Cheri, you had to say that. I was supposed to get the damn thing done when I was 45 because my father died of color cancer. in 2 weeks I’ll be 50. This is the year. But, like you and Dave, as a writer, I will at least get plenty of good “material.” Hope all is well and that you the prep is a foggy memory.

    1. All was well…at least after the “go-to-sleep” doctor (I can’t spell the technical term for his name) gave me some Jackson Juice–or propofol–and knocked me out. The best sleep I’ve had in years!

      Now…call your doctor and schedule your appointment!

  3. I’m not in number either but “colon-age” as well. My doctor said that I didn’t do a good enough job cleaning myself out. Really? Cause it sure as hell felt like I did into the wee hours of the morning. But I digress. Funny post! Oh, and Dave Barry rules.

    1. Mine said that too! Unless the concoction was supposed to pull the hairs on my head down through my scalp and through my digestive tract, I’m not sure HOW their could have been anything left internally, including my ORGANS!

  5. I also had my second colonoscopy recently and hadn’t realized how much better my prep experience was because I’m a male! BTW, I think I own all of Dave Barry’s books!

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