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Author has existential crisis after discovering a Dr Flemjeans is doing their colonoscopy
When you have a colonoscopy scheduled with someone named Dr. Flemjeans you know it’s going to be a ride.
Lucky for us, this author decided to share the entire experience with us in a series of tweets.
“I, idiot: after three years of procrastinating I finally made an appointment to get a colonoscopy. I did it all by myself. without my wife’s help. I’m serious. anyway, the day before the procedure I was on an all-liquid diet & was about to take the bowel prep medicine.”
Imagine having someone all the way up in your business and not even knowing their name
“This stuff is designed to clear the bowels, not in an explosive way, but more like last call at a bar when the lights turn on & everyone has to go home. so, as I was mixing this witch’s potion in a cup my wife asked me, “who’s doing the procedure?” & I replied, “I don’t know.”
& she said, “you don’t know who’s doing your colonoscopy?” & I said, “sh… should I know?” so, I checked my appointment reminder & told her, “it’s Dr. Flem… jeans, I think.” & she said, “hmm.” so, she hopped on her computer & in less than a minute pulled up a file. “Dr. Flemjeans…
…graduated from the college of leaflets, pamphlets & brochures. is this your doctor?” I began to worry. should I have done some research? I didn’t know I had a choice. how do I research a doctor? my wife seems to know how. “looks like Dr. Flemjeans was 47th in his class…”
Emergency poop surgery sounds horrific
“…of 47,” she said. I was beginning to think I should have procrastinated another three years & maybe by then I’d be eaten by a mountain lion. she continued, “looks like he auditioned for star search in the 1980s & owns two boa constrictors. is this your guy?” she asked me.
Only now was I beginning to wonder if this guy was qualified. crap, what if he’s not? what if he’s so incompetent he accidentally sews my butthole shut for some reason & I can’t poop & then I have to go to some Chicago hope hospital to have emergency poop surgery?
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” my wife calmly said, as she shut her computer. & I thought, yeah, I’m sure he’ll be fine. thanks, wife. thanks for planting the ol’ paranoia seeds in my head. I’m really not an adult. it never crossed my mind to find out more about the person who will be…
It’s quite simply the illusion of choice
“…filming mission impossible 12 in my lower intestines. what is wrong with me? I’m an idiot. I never check. I never research. Do you know what it is? I hate confrontation. say I did sprout a brain cell & did some research, say I decided against Dr. Flemjeans. what then?”
“Well then, who DO you want?” they would ask. “I don’t know,” I would say. “can you recommend someone?” “yes,” they would say. “Dr. Flemjeans.” then I would tell my wife that there’s no other choice & she would say, “what do you mean there’s no other choice?” “
Oh, that tone in her voice. she wants answers & I don’t have ’em. you see, I’m not a real person. I should be outside on the lawn eating dandelions not arranging important adult medical procedures. I’m a child. I don’t know how I got this far in life without…”
From moment go, there were questions
“…falling down a well or bumping into a terminator programmed to kill me. I couldn’t sleep. I spent the entire night imagining myself Tying on a slab in the coroner’s office with a missing butthole. what was I thinking? next time ask questions, you idiot.
The next day I was at the clinic in my gown with a blood pressure thingy on my left arm & a saline drip in a vein on my right arm & little EKG leads all over my chest. I lied, down on a gurney & they rolled me out of the room & into the main bullpen area where I waited.
I was lying there on the gurney staring at the ceiling pretending to be dead listening to the office chatter when I heard someone come in and say, “I’m noticing that the y-5 leads aren’t in the right position.” & someone else said, “well, that’s how we were trained…”
OP was starting to question everything
…to do it.” & the first voice said, “that’s not how it’s done.” & the second voice said, “well, we were trained to put them there but we’ll do it your way.” & I thought, oh shit are they arguing? what kind of place is this? my feet are touching a printer right now.
Not only should I have researched this doctor but i should have investigated this entire goddamned building & everyone in it. I think I saw an electrical panel that wasn’t up to code. suddenly, my gurney started moving & I thought, oh boy, this is it. I’m done.
They rolled me into a Chicago Hope room where some nurses were prepping the equipment when suddenly this guy, who I swear was john oliver, popped into my view. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Dr. Flemjeans.. I’ll be doing the procedure today. Do you have any questions?”
and finally…Dr. Flemjeans.
I do have a question,” I said. “is my y-5 lead in the right position?” “of course it is,” he said. “we’re all trained to put it there. have you heard conflicting information about it?” “no, I was just curious,” I said. “well then,” he said, “shall we get started?”
So they poured the same sedative that killed Michael Jackson into my iv drip & for the first time since making the appointment I felt relaxed. I could see the monitor where Dr. Flemjeans. was directing mission impossible 12. it’s going to be fine, I thought. maybe I’m not an idiot
Anyway, I’m happy to report that I did not end up on a slab nor was I killed by a terminator. the procedure went splendidly. Dr. Flemjeans. was very nice & had a British accent. he took out a couple of small polyps & said to come back in five years.
Perhaps Dr. Flemjeans was just a figment of the author’s imagination
“He said that my wife shouldn’t be such an alarmist & that terminators from the future, are very real. we talked about the trajectory of James Cameron’s career & wondered when those other avatar movies were gonna come out.
& as they rolled me out of the room Dr. Flemjeans handed me a flyer for the college of leaflets, pamphlets & brochures & looked at me. “you’re not an idiot,” he said. “but, maybe you should cut back on the dandelions. they have a tendency to make a person’s imagination run wild.”
“Thanks, Dr. Flemjeans,” I said. “I will cut back.” so they rolled me back to a small room where I got dressed. I walked out to the front desk where my wife was waiting. “well, how was it?” she asked. “it was great,” I said. “well, you did it,” she replied. “all by yourself.”
One would never know
“I sure did,” I said. “all by myself.” we got in the car & she took me to get some ice cream. five years later I would be running from a terminator sent from Dr. Flemjeans’ future grandson who was trying to prevent me from choosing another doctor to perform my second colonoscopy.
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