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THE
SCREAMING SIGMOID By
Gary Cox Many
of you know of my recent trips to see the doctor and have been wondering
how I am doing. I am doing
fine, I guess. So far
everything has turned out well, which is what a doctor is suppose to make
you.….well. I was
doing my male thing, which is to avoid doctor visits at all cost and doing
it with great success. My
beloved wife kept "IMPRESSING" on me the need to have a cyst
removed from my neck. After
great deliberation I thought I could handle this, so I made plans to see
my doctor about having the thing removed. That was the beginning of events
that I can hardly describe. I
went in to see the doctor. While
he looked at the cyst he also looked over my skin condition for suspicious
looking areas. While he was
doing his examination thing, he stopped and looked at me very soberly.
He asked, "Do you have a history of colon cancer?"
This caught me completely off guard. “Why did he say that?
What does he know that I don't?”
Well, he determined I needed to be screened for colon cancer so he
set up an appointment to have a screaming sigmoid, which I quickly
clarified and found was a screening sigmoid (which is short for
sigmoidoscopy, a word no one can pronounce and that’s why it is
shortened sigmoid). Looking
back I think my first interpretation was closer to right, a screaming
sigmoid or in this case a screaming Gary. While talking with him I also
mentioned I take Benadryl quite often and that it helps me sleep. When he
found out I wasn't sleeping because I quit breathing, he became concerned,
said that it sounded like sleep apnea and that it could lead to pulmonary
hypertension that was not reversible. He then went about to set an
appointment with someone who could do a sleep study so they would know how
to fix this ailment. In
short, I went to see about having a cyst removed and wound up with 3
doctor visits and at least 1 hospital stay.
This whole ordeal has gotten very much out of hand. My
screaming sigmoid was scheduled and the doctor to perform it sent some
information on things to do before I come in for the test.
I knew I was in trouble when it mentioned "enema one hour
before I was to come in". If
you have never experienced an enema you are missing one of life's truly
unique moments. The time was
drawing near for my close encounter, a most intimate time between my
doctor and myself. It was now
the Sunday night before my appointment on Tuesday. We went shopping for
just the right enema to do the job at hand.
I told Judy I wish we could skip Monday and Tuesday and go straight
from Sunday to Wednesday, but I didn't get my wish. We bought the Fleets
and went home. It is
now Tuesday morning and time for the big E.
I retrieved the bottle and proceeded to read the instructions.
Now, I was completely familiar with the procedure, as distasteful
as it is, and ready to proceed….almost.
I decided it was time to pray for this whole event. I prayed in earnest about the screaming sigmoid and the
enema. Now it was time and
here I was sitting on bed planning my strategy for using this thing.
I looked over my route, not knowing how quickly this would work,
and thought I would move the rug out of the hallway.
It was in my line of flight and when the urge hits I didn't want to
trip on the rug and make matters worse.
I also thought the bathroom door should be fully open and all other
obstacles out of my way. Well, it was time and with enema bottle in hand I proceeded
with much reservation. The
experience was unpleasant and I hesitated often when trying to insert the
bottle. Finally, with eyes
shut tight, a mighty burst of courage and a loud scream I finished the
process. I now lay face down
on my bed, perspiring, short of breath, wondering just what damage I had
created. Convinced that when
the doctor starts to examine me he will say "Why, you have no bowel. It has been mercilessly ripped out ---probably by an enema
bottle". When the enema
worked it worked with a vengeance. With
that over, it was time to get dressed and head for the doctor appointment. Well I
got in my rickety old truck and took off down the road.
About half way to the office, a terrible thought occurred to me.
What if the enema wasn't finished working yet and I needed to
commune with nature quickly what would I do!!!
With that in mind, I started scanning the roadside for an
appropriate place to make an emergency stop. Thankfully I made it all the
way to the office with nothing further happening ---yet.
I looked at my watch and thought how good it was that I was
completely on time. Being
confident of where I was going I wheeled into the doctor's office parking
lot walked to the door and noticed
something strange. The wrong Dr.’s name was on the door. What had
happened? Did the doctor move
and not inform me? It's 5
minutes till my appointment! What
to do? I jumped into my truck
and sped to the closest telephone. Upon calling the doctor and getting
directions, I found that the office was only 2 blocks away.
I jumped back into my truck and… it wouldn't start. I tried and I tried and I tried until the battery was
dead. The only option was to
walk since my appointment was right now.
I started walking down the street, through the neighborhood, which
was a mix of homes and offices; the thought again came to mind.
“What if the enema starts working again?” I quickly looked over
the shrubs and bushes of the area but found nothing all that appealing to
me and probably wouldn't go over very well with the neighbors either.
Anyhow, I made it to the doctors' office and as I started in, I thought
something was strangely familiar. As
I looked around, I found I was just across the street from the
podiatrist’s office from which I started 5 minutes ago.
Oh well, such is life. I
entered the doctor's office with much reservation coming to realize a
screaming sigmoid was less appealing all the time.
For my wife, I continued in. I
went to the receptionist desk and presented myself explaining why I was
late, which didn't impress her at all.
She only said how they were behind anyhow so have a seat and fill
out this stack of forms. I
made great efforts to make my appointment only to find out they were
running behind. Imagine me
assuming the procedure would be on time and I would not have to wait (the
enema thing and all). What was I thinking?
I filled out the forms and turned them in.
With that done I sat down in the waiting room to wait my turn.
I was nervous and tried to read magazines.
I noticed people keep looking at me occasionally and wondered why,
only to find out I was reading the magazine upside down.
I guess my mind wasn't on my reading.
The nurse would come through a squeaky door and call someone's name
and they would disappear through the squeaky door with the nurse.
I also noticed those people never came back out the squeaky door.
Once they vanished through the door they were never seen again.
What was going on behind that door? What
happen to those folks? Again
the squeaky door opened. I
cringed knowing it was my turn. When
the nurse called the name out in her bold and distinctive voice, it wasn't
me. What happen? My
turn should have come up by now. Maybe
they misplaced me. Maybe they
lost my appointment. Maybe
they lost me. Oh the raptures that filled my soul at that thought.
With those possibilities I was happy again and had a future to plan
on. While I was rejoicing in
my good fortune of being overlooked a voice rang out. GARY COX!!! What was
that? It couldn't be the
nurse since I didn't hear her enter through the squeaky door. If not the nurse then who? Maybe it was an angel calling me
home. I turned around to see who was calling my name and quickly saw this
was no angel, only the nurse. She
had tricked me and sneaked in through another door.
There, she did it again. She called my name. They found me after
all. Oh! Woe is me.
I stood and face the nurse who was now standing in front of the
squeaky door. She smiled at
me but I knew it was her subtle attempt to lure me into a false sense of
security. I slowly started
walking toward her when something caught my eye. It
was the entry door leading to the outside and freedom.
I looked at the door and thought, “I could make a mad dash and
get outside in a flash.” I
looked at the nurse who was looking at me and decided she had probably
seen this before. She was
familiar with escape attempts and would probably tackle me before I made
it to the door. With that in
mind, I took a deep breath,
swallowed hard and slowly walked through the squeaky door and disappeared
into the dimly lit hallway. Once
in the hallway I noticed it was a maze of hallways.
It was amazing so to speak. We
turned down a small hallway and followed it for a little bit. By now I was totally lost.
All of a sudden, there was a room with the door open.
The nurse went in and when I paused at the door she told me to come
on in and have a seat. As I walked in I noticed a pan of soapy water sitting to my
right and wondered, “What are their plans for that.”
I had a seat and the nurse did the preliminaries such as blood
pressure, pulse rate and so on. While
sitting there staring at the little examination table I would sooner or
later be forced upon, I noticed a blue pan sitting under the bed. It's for people to use when they get sick I bet.
After all, enduring the coming events is enough to make anyone
sick. I thought how kind they
were to provide something like that for an emergency.
I asked the nurse if that pan was to throw up in during the
procedure. After all you
can't just jump off the table and run to the bathroom now can you.
She said that wasn't what it was there for but if I must, then go
ahead. Now she handed me a
sheet and started to leave the room with the instructions to disrobe, sit
on the table and cover myself with the sheet.
She and the doctor would wait outside until I was ready and let
them know and they would come in at that point.
She left and I started doing what she had instructed me.
I got ready, neatly folding my clothes and laying them on the
chair. "Are you ready yet?" she would ask. "No… not
yet." I would reply. I
think she thought I could speed up a little bit if I just would try.
Easy for her to say since she wasn't the victim.
I sat down on the table, unfolded the sheet to cover up with and
thought that this must be a mistake.
I have seen Kleenex tissue made out of thicker material.
I covered myself and thought this didn't do much good.
The nurse wanted to know if they could come in and I was feeling
very uncomfortable about this time. When
you are the only one in the room with no clothes on, you are at a distinct
disadvantage. I said to come
on in and they walked into the room and stood in front of me sitting on
their table in my designer peek-a-boo sheet. We got
started with the procedure. I
turned to face the wall as instructed and laid my head on the table and
tried to be brave. I was
perspiring like crazy. No, it
was more than that, I was just down right sweating and my pulse rate
extremely rapid and facing the wall with maximum grimace etched on my face
while the doctor was doing unthinkable things.
I figure they have you face the wall so they can't see your face.
While I was laying there, sweating, heart racing, probably dying,
the doctor started asking all kinds of questions in rapid succession.
He was giving me very little time to answer them and that was OK
since I wasn't in a talkative mood right about then.
“Where do you live? Have
you ever had bowel trouble? If
so, how often? What do you
like to eat? Anything spicy? Do you exercise? Where?”
I finally raised my head up, sweat running down my face and
dripping off my chin and my nose and my ears and pooling up under where
my head was laying. The paper
liner that was covering the table was now falling apart due to moisture.
My designer peek-a-boo sheet was soaked and I lifted my head during
all his question and said "NOT NOW DOC."
"Oh you don't want to talk?
That's fine we're finished anyhow.”
Finally, he was done and putting all the equipment away and getting
ready to leave the room. I said I was now ready to answer all those questions. He said
he wasn't really interested in the answers.
He was only trying to keep my mind off what he was doing.
It didn't work. Well
it was over. I retired my
peek-a-boo sheet and was dressed in my regular clothes.
Walking into the hallway, I now wondered where I was, and how to
get out. The nurse was
waiting outside the door to my room ready to lead me down the long,
winding maze of hallways. I
could never have found my way out without her.
I believe that is by design. The
nurse leads you to the billing station and nobody talks about how to get
out until after you make arrangements for payment.
If you try to get out without following the nurse to the billing
station you could wander around in there for years and never find your way
out. Not wanting that to
happen I made insurance arrangements and ask how to get out.
They pointed to a door and when I walked through it I was magically
transported once again to the waiting room and immediately I was at the
exit. Of this, I made quick
use. Once outside I thought
how good it was to be free again. After
the grueling experience I had been through it was great to be outside on a
beautiful day with the sun shinning bright, trees and flowers beaming
forth with their fall colors. I
just stopped and thanked God for a positive check up, for life, for a
beautiful day and oh yea, to please help my truck to start. It started right away and I thought how good God is even in
the midst of the most trying of situations.
You just can't beat Him. THIS STORY IS ONLY MEANT TO BE A HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF A MEDICAL PROCEDURE AND IT’S AUTHOR’S INTERPRETATION OF EVENTS. One in 20 Americans will get cancer of the colon or rectum in his or her lifetime. Colorectal cancer is the second most frequently diagnosed cancer in the United States. Although the disease strikes men and women in almost equal numbers, men are more likely to die of it. One contributing factor may be their reluctance to visit their doctor on a regular basis. The incidence of colon cancer rises at age 40 and the average age of diagnosis is 62. The following signs can be indicative of colo-rectal cancer and should be followed by your physician.
Thank you to Gary for his amusing anecdote and for bringing another opportunity for each of us to be aware of how important a simple procedure may be for our continued health. For more information please visit: CrashCards MediFocus Center's Colo-Rectal Cancer Page. FOR AN EXCELLENT ARTICLE ON COLON CANCER AND IT WARNING SIGNS, PLEASE GO TO MSN Health.
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