You might say I’ve reached yet another pivotal midlife milestone. Allow me to share some of the earlier benchmarks, such as when my goatee’s salt to pepper ratio began to skew more toward salt, and we have already discussed my need to warm up a minute or two before my morning constitutional. Then came the need to wear reading classes – although this isn’t so bad. They do make a nice prop, giving me something to rip off and throw down when I need to punctuate a point, or when I put the tip of one of the arms up to my mouth and pretend to look deeply inquisitive during meetings or other serious occasions.
I am now proud to report that I’ve cut yet another notch in my midlife belt, leaped another 40+ hurdle, got done another person of a certain age to-do list item. The task of which I speak is the completion of my first colonoscopy. Yes, that special intimate look into the deep recesses of one’s, shall we say, inner workings (Why, I wonder, as I type this, am I having images of childhood memories of my father cleaning chitterlings???).
This inspection of my southern region came several years early. Bet you didn’t know that the boys and girls in the white jackets now recommend that gentlemen of my ethnic persuasion drop trou at 45, not 50, like other male members of the species. Combine that with my history of rogue cells and voilà, it’s scope time!
The preparation was the most uncomfortable part of the procedure. Let’s just say I know how many tiles there are on my bathroom floor. Beyond that, it wasn’t a terrible experience. In fact, I even had a nurse anesthetist with a sense of humor.
Me: (looking at the white substance in the syringe) Hey, is that Propofol?
Anesthetist: (as she pokes the needle into my IV line) Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m not Conrad Murray!
Despite the sincere full disclosure I share with you kind readers, I won’t go too deep, the doctor already did! (cue rimshot, whoa, did I say rim, oh, somebody stop me!!!). Let’s just say I’m good for another three years or 60,000 miles, whichever comes first!
So I wonder what’s the next mile post I’ll pass along the middle age highway? Who knows, but I bet it won’t as probing as this recent rite of midlife passage!