My Colonoscopy proves I would be a Rubbish Porn Star

I have often wondered what kind of porn star would I become should I have stayed in the porn capital of the world, the San Fernando Valley, and pursued a career in the adult entertainment business. I thought I might be the ingénue in my youth, letting the plumber in with hungry eyes, a sheer blouse, and Daisy Duke denim shorts. Later, as the hard-boiled chap-wearing tough girl with boobs that magically defy gravity and a “specialty” talent involving an eggplant. Working for a few years on camera then moving behind the camera to create my own radical feminist porn series.

Having now watched my own ass on camera, I can tell you that my career in pornography would have been very short lived. In fact, my ass video was the worst porno that I have ever watched.

I didn’t want my colon to be the star of this video production but I didn’t have a choice. Having cancer sucked. Having cancer return in another part of your body years later would suck more. When I got a fecal occult test back from the doc, I freaked out. It was three weeks sitting on this secret before I could even have the colonoscopy that would let me know if the dreaded beast that took part of me, had found its way into the back door.

The first time it was my ovaries. If my cancer stalker had moved into the adjacent neighboorhood, I was not sure I would make it. I spent the three weeks dreading having a man I don’t know, go so far without a safeword.

A few days before the test, I got a phone call from the prep nurse, who gave me the 24 hours of fasting and laxatives protocol, to be followed by riding reverse cowgirl on the porcelain god of regret, till I am as empty as a backseat bandit’s bogus bond.

The porcelain god of regret aka the toilet. Photo by Amin

I made the pharmacy pilgrimage where I was presented with a gallon jug with a mysterious white powdery substance at the bottom of it. I made a mental note not to enter any federal buildings or try to board an airplane. The directions were to fill the jug to the designated line, chill then drink on the day before the test in two parts.

The nurse cautioned me that the beginning of the test that I should be prepared to have access to the bathroom shortly after I start to drink the evacu-poo solution. I spoke to a few relatives who had been through this before. They told me to plan to move in, have my mail forwarded, bring the newspaper because all the other rooms in my place had just become ornamental.

The solution was a bit like gelatinous saltwater. Not awful but not great either. And it worked as advertised. Hours later, I was as empty as a cheating husbands heart.

IT’S SHOWTIME
I was worried both about the procedure but really I was concerned about the results. Would there be a golf ball size tumor hanging out making casual but deadly friends with my intestine?

The doctor was nice enough, I would say that he spent most of his time while in medical school in the medical lab and less time with a red solo cup in his hand. He put me at ease which helped but since I was not going to go through this without getting an answer, I just went with it. Even when I had 4 sticks of the needle to try and get a line in. I haven't had someone poke me and not get it in that many times since Steven H. tried to go all the way with me in the 10th grade. Ultimately both were unsuccessful and they had to bring in a ringer.

With the line finally in and the doctor ready, I was wheeled in hoisted onto my side like a beached whale, and they started to give me Fentanyl. I am told it is not the same drug as the synthetic version on the streets that is killing people who take it but I can kind of see the allure.

My experience with Fentanyl was delightful. I was wide awake though and was worried that I was not asleep when the doctor said let's get started and my big fat white dimpled ass was up on the jumbotron in all of its full moon roundness.

I brought to the attention of my anal attendants that I was still awake and could we wait to get started. Turns out the one thing this medical professional forgot to tell me was that I WOULD BE AWAKE THE WHOLE TIME.

I believe though I can’t be totally sure that I tossed out some kind of profanity though I can’t be totally sure. But before I knew it we were underway and my colon became the in-flight entertainment.

After years of treating my body as if it was the enemy to be starved, overfed, drowned in soda, stuffed with chocolate and planted on the sofa like a lonesome hound dog, I expected my colon tolook like a cobweb filled graveyard of lost regrets.

But my colon was like the Picture of Dorian Gray, it looked like it was pretty and pink. If someone calls me an asshole from now on, I will thank them for the compliment.

I must have been quite the Chatty Cathy or maybe I was complaining about the pain, which was kind of bad because they blow air up your butt because the doc upped my dose of compliance meds which only seemed to make me talkier. I proceeded to narrate the entire journey through my asshole like I was an out of work comedian moonlighting as a tour guide.

When it was finally over, the nurses rolled me out to a room full of prep nurses to whom I announced rather loudly that I had just watched the worst anal porno ever. They all laughed. I proud of myself for finding a tushie joke that they had not heard yet.

Shortly after the big intimidating nurse with the stern look and cold hands came over to hold me down or shut me up. Nurse Frozone was not having any of my “funny business.” She tossed me some hospital grade graham crackers and walked out till I broke into the opening bars of “Ding Dong the Witch is gone” Did I mention, how over medicated I was at this point?

After the second chorus, I was pushed out the door with my designated driver saying that I would be called with my test results.

IT ALL CAME OUT IN THE END

Happy to report that everything was ok from the test. But I must have really impressed the doc because he told me that he wants to see me (and my ass) again in ten years time.