Okay, slightly North of toe. 

Earlier this week I had a brain MRI – don’t understand the results one bit, but at least they found something rattling around in my punkin’ head; waiting to hear from doctor whether I should be worried or not.  (AND I HATE WAITING.)

Today, I had a colonoscopy and an endoscopy.  Whee! 

Hate the prep.  You drink that nasty tasting guck at the rate of 8 oz per 15 minutes, and it took SIX HOURS (!!!) to drink it all. 

Love the propofol – lights out, lights back on (just don’t Michael Jackson me, okay).

They told me they do the endoscopy and the colonoscopy at the same time!  I was, like the Transcontinental Railroad?  They try to meet in the middle and see who gets to drive the final spike?  Yikes!  (They actually meant, they don’t wake you up between procedures.)

For the endoscopy, they strap in a mouthguard (and I do mean strap in – Shades of Gray) that keeps you from biting on the cord and helps them aim the thing down your throat.

They had this vaguely penis shaped thing hanging up with all these dials and protrusions.  I made sure that was NOT the camera (at least take me out to dinner) – turns out it’s what they use to move the camera through your insides.  However, I did worry that, given my insurance’s antiquated views on colonoscopy prep, they might want the facility to use a Polaroid on me.

Removed a couple of polyps.  One from the lower intestine, one from the stomach (probably benign); and now I’m home listening to my asshole do angry Donald Duck impersonations. 

I hereby declare, I am now done with medical tests – for a good long while.  No more poking, prodding, scanning and most extra-specially NO MORE butt stuff. 

You’re going to put that where?