As if life hadn’t just fucked me up the ass with unusual vigor very recently, let’s go ahead and throw my very first colonoscopy into the mix.

The colonoscopy was recommended last year during my 50 year gynecological visit. I didn’t have any symptoms but, apparently, 50 is the magic number. I ignored my practitioner and enjoyed my year. At my 51 year appointment, she wasn’t quite so chipper and told me to quit fucking around. Okay, she didn’t say those exact words but I got the gist.

I already visited my primary physician to get the referral because I will be damned if I’m going to give my insurance any opportunity to deny the claim. He also ran some bloodwork so I’m waiting to see what else can be added to my “Health Shit I Need To Worry About” pile. (I have a lot of piles and, being extremely organized, they have categories and sub categories and are ALL so beautifully named.)

I just had my pre-screening via a phone call. Because I am not suffering from abdominal pain or rectal bleeding, I don’t have to go in for an appointment prior to the actual butt appointment. So, yay me!

Now, I sit here and wait for the next step which is being mailed to me. This gives me about a week to focus on my other categories and sub categories. Honestly, I would trade at least one of those worries for two or three ass probes if I could.

Unfortunately, the piles are not interchangeable or exchangeable so I’ll just hope that they don’t find anything lurking up my anal cavity that makes me sorry I made a joke about wanting multiple procedures.

One shit storm at a time. Hahaha! See what I did there?!

Pics or it didn’t happen, right?