Tuesday, August 16, 2005

It's a gas!

We have several brokers in their late 40's/early 50's. For some reason, a big topic of conversation around the office is their colonoscopies. I suppose it's like some kind of new coming-of-age ritual, now that pretty much everyone knows you should get one when you hit your 40's. They trade stories, and when someone is going for their first one that's always a big discussion. Thankfully I'm not directly involved in most of these conversations, I just get to overhear them. That changed last week. A broker, who I will call RotoRooter, decided it was something I should be familiarized with.

RotoRooter: I hate to be a pain, but do you have my check? I won't be in tomorrow and I won't be in until Tuesday next week.

Me: Oh sure, it's right here.

RotoRooter: My wife and I are going for our colonoscopies.

Me: Oh? Sounds like fun.

RotoRooter: Well, hers is on Friday and mine is on Monday. I'm really not looking forward to it but my buddy says you don't know anything because they put you out.

Me: Yeah. I'm hoping that by the time I need one, they'll have perfected that scan and it won't be as expensive.

RotoRooter: Well how old are you?

Me: 30 [jesus, when the hell did THAT happen?!]

RotoRooter: Aw, you've got 10 years yet!

.... and so on, until he finally tired of it and walked away. Silly me, I thought that would be the end of it. Ha ha. Today he stopped by my cube...

RotoRooter [in a conspiratorial whisper]: Don't get a colonoscopy! I'm so bloated!

Me: Oh wow. I had been sitting here thinking it would be a fun thing to try, but now that you've said that, forget it!

RotoRooter: No, really, you need to get one. And actually it's not all that bad. Except I got so bloated! I got home and went right to sleep, the anesthesia really knocked me out, and when I woke up this morning, my upper abdomen was just so bloated.

Me: Ahhh. Well did you take GasEx or something?

RotoRooter: Oh no, I couldn't. Because they removed polyps [gee thanks, even MORE information I didn't need to know] I can't take anything with asprin in it. No, I called the nurse and she said to just get up and walk around for a while and I'd be fine.

I had a mental image of him walking around the house, propelled by the force of his farts. (In my childish group of friends' vernacular, that is known as "crop-dusting"). I don't know what made him want to tell me all of this personal information. It must be the sign in my cube that says "Tell me about your bowels!"

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Heh heh heh "crop dusting"...

Your company seems quite behind the times, PC-wise. Half the conversations would probably get you fired at my company. Or maybe just really weird looks while we shied away from said person.

Mr. Ring of Fire

10:59 AM  

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