The holidays are a happy and warm time of year when families can get together and create great memories, eat wonderful food and share holiday cheer. Seems like the perfect time to discuss colonosoclopapathies.
So, I just lost four of my five regular readers by using that word, but I’d like some sympathy because I started my holiday season going in to get this overdue, dreaded procedure done that I can neither pronounce nor spell. I probably shouldn’t write about this because there really isn’t anything I can say about it that anyone wants to read, and to even hint at it being a less-than-pleasant thing is politically incorrect because it is a procedure that saves lives, including my own.
But I would just like to be on the record saying that this had better be necessary.
I’m a little bit skeptical about the tests “they” tell us to do and wonder if “they” follow their own advice. I have a file folder I have kept that just includes studies people do that seem to contradict each other on a yearly basis. I have learned that any study done on chocolate, caffeine or wine, for example, will be reversed in a matter of months.
I once read about a study that had been done that said that some two-thirds of all studies completed were deeply flawed. At first, I felt vindicated; I was right to be skeptical. But then I realized that the study I was reading about could very well be one of the flawed studies.
It’s clear that some people truly believe that colosoclopathies are necessary and they have ample proof that they save lives. I mean, they make their living doing this procedure.
Now, if you are going to say, “Sure, they do this because they make lots of money doing it,” don’t even start. Stop right now. You’re just making yourself look like a dolt. I don’t know if being a doctor or nurse who does this puts you in the top 1 percent or not, I just know that it should. If there was ever a job that deserved top pay, this one is it.
(The people who make the nasty drinks you have to chug to have this procedure get no gratitude from me. Sorry. I know and they know they could do better. They are just being mean.)
When I had my procedure, I had a series of extremely positive, happy, funny people talking me through things, and I find that to be remarkable. You see, I made sure they knew I was there every minute that they made me wear that embarrassing, open-at-the back dress. I complained, cried, whined or screamed every time I saw a needle, tube, bed, Band-Aid, nurse or table saw. I have a good imagination, and I perceive everything as a serious threat in such situations.
And, I have discovered that, if I am annoying enough, they will put me to sleep sooner instead of later, and this is one of the few times where being asleep is the most effective way to deal with severe, life-threatening threats. (Campaign commercials are the only other example that comes to mind.)
Sometimes I think I have it bad at work because I have deadlines that just keep coming and coming, keeping me up at night. Poor me. (Said with mock sarcasm.) At least, when my desk gets messy, I don’t need plastic gloves to clean it up.
If they can be trusted, and I believe they can, they have now saved my life twice. If I had doubts, they presented me with the evidence after the procedure. (Tip: if you go in for one of these procedures, read the nice little printed page they give you, then close your eyes and pull off the back pages and throw them away, tearing them up as you go. Don’t open your eyes until you are done. My doctor gave me color pictures of things that should never, ever, ever be made into color pictures.)
While the rest of you were grateful at this time of year for the traditional things like family, warm houses, stuffing and iPhone apps, I’m going to break ranks and be grateful for something no one ever talks about. Today, I’m grateful for doctors and nurses, especially mine, who do this day after day so that the rest of us can live to make up silly vocational things to complain about. They are heroes who never get any credit.
I do have just one suggestion for such medical professionals, however. And I apologize in advance for being too direct. Photography is not a good hobby for you. Try stamp collecting, rugby or rock climbing. Clearly you do not have any good instincts about where to point a camera.
Thank goodness I’m not friends with any of you on Facebook. I would hate to see your vacation pictures.
Steve Eaton lives and works in Logan, Utah. He can be reached at Eatonnews@gmail.com.
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