Just got back from a session where I was given Michael Jacksons's favorite sleeping aid while undergoing a colonoscopy.The doctor who performed the procedure apparently loved to keep his finger on the air-supply button to balloon up the colon for good viewing.When I was finished,I was bloated up like a pregnant she-male.Tryng to stand doubled me over in pain from all the air distention.They had me lay on my left side,then my right hoping to start the 'winds of change'....no luck.The five female nurses were very sympathetic.They walked me across the hall to a gurney bed & had me assume a yoga position I think they call the 'hanging dog'.After pulling the curtain & draping a blanket over my butt,one nurse kept rubbing my back,& saying don't be shy about letting loose if the opportunity presents itself.We fellas tend to be proud of our rectal aria productions.We become somewhat shy of performing that same aria when those of the female persuasion are around.After a few minutes,I was finally able to provide some "back-talk".After one particularly loud 'exclaimation',I got an atta-boy not just from the nurse rubbing my back,but from the others down the hall.Feeling much better,the wife & me proceeded to Cracker Barrel for a delicious meatloaf dinner.Since the doc found something that needed a biopsy,I have to go back in two weeks for an encore to remove it.
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