As that great theologian, Elvis Presley, once said, "It's been a long time, baby."
While you've been away, I've had a couple of things happen.
A couple of Fridays ago, I had a colonoscopy. Let me explain.
Thursday afternoon, before the procedure ( a term loosely defined as a gross invasion of privacy on one of my most private parts) on Friday morning, I was instructed to use the product "Evac-U-Crap" to "cleanse" my intestinal tract. At 4:00pm, I began.
First, I mixed 32 ounces of a semi-clear, fizzing concoction in a container provided by the manufacturer (all for the low, low price of $64.00, handling included). Then, every fifteen minutes, I drank eight ounces of the stuff. A play-by-play:
4:45pm--still nothing, although by this point I've decided I hate warm Gatorade.
5:00pm--a slight rumbling in the nether regions. A preview of things to come.
So...about 5:18pm, more or less, I exploded in the first of several eruptions, the details of which are better left unstated. The good news was that the whole process would begin again at 7:00pm that same day, when I would consume another 32 ounces of Evac-U-Crap, after which it would consume me. Again.
7:15pm--pure fire turning me inside out.
7:30pm--I decide to have "Exit Only" tattooed on my lower back in hopes that will prevent the doctor from performing the procedure.
7:45pm--"Exit Only" doesn't even begin to describe it.
8:00pm--I want to die. Or at least get a padded toilet seat.
The instructions clearly stated that I was to have a "clear liquid" diet the night before my colonoscopy. No problem, that's what it looked like I'd been having for the past month.
Friday morning I went to the hospital, accompanied by my sweetheart, for the "procedure". The doctor had told me that I'd be drowsy during the colonoscopy. I demanded to be put to sleep. Not under anesthetic--put me down, like a dying dog. Please.
He did. I slept through the entire twelve minutes it took him to figure out that my colon was, and is now, fine.
While I was "under", I saw Daddy and Uncle Johnny. They were standing in front of me, somewhere which looked like the mountains where I live. Daddy said, "We've been waiting for you", then turned and said something to Uncle Johnny, and they both laughed.
Then I woke up.
My wife said as I was coming out of the anesthesia, I asked her where Daddy was. When she told me he wasn't there, she said I started crying. I'm sure I did.
Not from the procedure. From that little glimpse of heaven.