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You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...

After whining yesterday about my life being pathetic, it was like the heavens opened up and showered me with blog fodder! (Thank you, Confessions of a Corn Fed Girl for coining the phrase blog fodder. It has come in handy a lot!)

Yesterday I had this little thing planned called an Annual Exam with my favorite snarky gyno. It was a requirement that my doctor be skilled in sarcasm and I found the best. She has a Polish accent and even referred to me as Kermit the Frog due to my lack of those things that hang down in the back of your throat.

Anyway, yesterday she introduced me to the wonderful world of the Rectal Exam after I joked about the return of hemorrhoids and my solemn vow to never do THAT again! Oh, I'm sorry; you're uncomfortable? Imagine how I felt.

Then came the magic words: you just bought yourself a colonoscopy, lady. Because apparently there are no hemorrhoids. Which, means I've obviously got cancer. Because that's how my mind works. And the good doctor looked at me with her head cocked and said, you really are one of my most anxiety filled patients. (I took that to mean I'm her favorite.) And then she told me all about irritable bowel syndrome and all sorts of intestinal issues other than cancer that I can also obsess over. You know, just in case I run out of fear-filled obsessions.

After I left, I realized she never felt me up. I mean, conducted a breast exam. Don't they do that anymore? Or is this something I'm expected to do on my own? Because I have no problem poking my booby tissue, but what the heck do I know about what's supposed to be there and what isn't? What if I miss something? I'm not a doctor. This is just way too much responsibility and pressure for me.

To get my mind off of my certain death sentence things, I talked to my sister who is starting a new job soon. Don't even bother asking me what she does; I have no idea. I just know that she's legally allowed to put capital letters after her signature and that she'll get a company car. To which I believe it would be beyond awesome if her company hooked her up with a 1973 bright gold Impala. And she would totally be game if they threw in a Roy Orbison 8-track. But she hasn't said anything about sporting the hot pink velour tracksuit I suggested as office wear. I'll keep working on her. Because I'm pretty sure if I saw my highly educated sister roll up in a gold tank wearing a pink tracksuit I could honestly say my life was complete. Well, as long as it happens after I share my colonoscopy experience...

Some types of cancer can be found before they cause symptoms. Research shows that using certain screening tests regularly will reduce deaths from some types of cancers. These types include Breast Cancer, Cervical Cancer and Colon & Rectal Cancer. Don’t be embarrassed; just get screened.


Becca said…
Oh yes, to me there are only two options: perfectly healthy, or end stage cancer. So I don't go to the doctor very much.
Ellen said… did I miss that first blog post on your little (Painful) surgery. Where was I who did not console you? I felt guilty as I laughed (because you make me laugh!) and what I was also feeling was uncomfortable (down there) and I am so grateful I have NEVER had hemorrhoids even after 4 kids. God I am grateful!!!!

Well at least with the colonoscopy you will be out. You won't even know what happened.

All joking aside I am thinking positive thoughts for a painfree and clear report.
Johi said…
Sending good healthy vibes 'n stuff your way. And your welcome for the phrase "blog fodder". Here is another classy one for you: I hope you have a clean follow up visit at the Crotch Doctor.

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