About seven years ago, I did a column in another newspaper detailing my colonoscopy experience.
Some folks told me afterwards that the column helped ease their fear of the unknown, as they faced such scopes of their own.
But one friend said I gave out a little too much information when I discussed the need to break wind following the procedure.
I’m due for another trip to the hospital to check out my basement plumbing early next year, so I’ll have to keep that in mind.
But this past week I met the doc who will be staring up my bum in February. Fortunately we shook hands before, not after, my appointment with Dr. Farouq Manji, as you can guess where at least one of his fingers went.
It appears I’m the poster boy for hemorrhoids – overweight, suffering from asthma and allergies and working a sedentary job.
The extra pounds contribute to ’rhoids (sounds so much cooler than hemorrhoids, doesn’t it?), as does the regular coughing associated with asthma and allergies. Ditto for the sedentary job where one sits a lot.
So there I was last week waiting for a consult visit with the good doctor for a colonoscopy when he walks in, introduces himself and says, “So, you have hemorrhoids?”
When I met with my family doctor a while back, I figured the ’rhoid issue would be addressed the same time I got scoped. Heck, a doctor would already be anally probing me, right?
But Doc Manji, while taking a look at the situation, casually asked if I have ever been banded. I’m thinking of the metal band that goes around a bird’s foot, but he’s talking about a medical procedure to remove a hemorrhoid.
Either way, the answer was no.
But that all changed soon thereafter. He asked if I wanted him to band one of the hangers on at the terminus of my waste disposal system. Since he was already in the neighbourhood, I thought why not?
A bit more probing and such and he was done. No pain. But there was discomfort. And I must say, the more you move, and the softer the chair you sit in afterwards, the better you feel.
Banding cuts off the blood flow to the hemorrhoid. It just falls off a few days later. Talk about a simple procedure to solve what for some can be extreme discomfort and/or periodic bleeding.
Dr. Manji is very good at what he does. He also seems to pick up on the vibe from his patient. I was quick to make light of the situation (he’s looking up my bum, after all), and he joked right back.
But when it was time to be serious, such as when he was banding, or as to what to look for in case there’s a problem, and how to set up a time for my colonoscopy, he was all business.
I give Dr. Manji a thumbs up (or should that be a finger?).
Oh, Christmas tree
We put up our Christmas tree on Saturday, and have spent a good portion of the time since shooing a certain furry menace out from underneath it.
Finn, the cat, showed repeated curiosity over the tree, especially the taste of the lower branches. It’s an artificial tree, one with lights already strung throughout. We like the tree and don’t want the cat to chomp down and zap himself, so we have been repeatedly discouraging the cement head from visiting the tree.
Yet he keeps going back again and again.
He’s been in time out, been smacked on the butt, scolded, distracted and otherwise discouraged. Yet the cat came back, he just wouldn’t stay away.
Our neighbours across the street told us they had to take down their tree as their cat went lumberjack and climbed theirs.
That sounds like our old cat, Archie. His first exposure to an artificial tree was to climb up into it. In among the tree lights and ornaments, we saw his two eyes staring out from deep inside the tree.
So far, Finn hasn’t climbed the tree. Yet I have this feeling we’ll come home to find the tree flat on the floor, and the cat looking at us with innocent eyes. If I look deep enough, I’m sure I’ll see the fires of hell burning in those eyes. Remember, my nickname for this fella is “Satan.”
And Satan, er, Finn is really trying to get outdoors on us these days. He’s slipping outside more and more often, making runs for the door whenever it opens. Well, I’ve got news for him: It’s cold outside, Dummy.
He found that out on Saturday. He got out on Mary, and rather than coax the meathead back in, she left him. A little while later, he was meowing at the door, begging to be let into the warmth of our home.
