Here is a report which I filed last year which casts some light upon the
nether regions and flatulence.

‎I thought I would give you a complete Colonoscopy Report. I had a regular
‎physical appointment some months back and the Doctor noted I have never had
‎a Colonoscopy. He said at age 61 I ought to have one. Especially
since I have
‎ a documented extensive exposure to Agent Orange over in "veet-nam"

‎I went on a liquid clear diet 48 hours in advance. I called and found out
‎that "carbonated beverages" and Popsicles are OK. Beer is a carbonated
‎beverage, need I say more?

‎I received the instructions and a large gallon jug by mail. The jug was a
‎powder used as a clean-out solution. I started two days ahead of the
‎appointment. The clean-out solution doesn't actually taste like anything
‎-- it is mixed it with water in the jug and then refrigerated. I drank a
‎glass of it every 10 minutes, took a couple slugs of Budweiser and then
‎went to sit on the throne.

‎By the evening prior to the 0930 appointment I was completely cleaned out
‎and nothing but a clear liquid was passed.

‎I arrived at the Nashville VAMC (Veterans Affairs Medical Center) at 0830
‎accompanied by my aide'd'camp, the driver, and the usual security
‎operatives who cleared the parking garage of any alien life forms who may
‎have been lurking to take me back for retraining.

‎The GI clinic waiting area was relatively quiet for the VA, with only three
‎TV sets turned on; one with the Springer Show featuring strange people
‎shouting and hitting, one with some reality show of wheelchair-confined
‎lesbians playing freeway chicken with gay truckers, and the last channel
‎set to the local country music channel where men wearing large hats crooned
‎about lost loves and various injustices suffered at the hands of gals
with big
‎hair-doos. Unlike the VA emergency room, there were no screams of the
injured,
‎no gargling guttural death rattles, no speaking in tongues by
unmedicated bi-polars
‎and skitzos, no leaking colostomy bags with gurney pushers slipping,
sliding and
‎cursing as they glissando through the noisome messes.

‎As a "service connected - combat rated disabled veteran" I get almost free
‎medical care, so I am not complaining.

‎ The appointment was for 0930 and at 0933 a nurse came forth and called
in a stentorian voice:
‎"Mister Mann" -- yikes! my name. She had my aide'd'camp sign and
attest that he would
‎ be attending and remain in the exam waiting area. She then took me to
the exam room.

‎The examining doctor was a Vanderbilt University Medical School
‎professor, who was accompanied by a couple of students from the medical
‎school. The other MD was the chief of the GI department at the VAMC.
‎Pretty high class help for an old broke-down soldier like moi oci.

‎The doctor and nurse came in and bid me to disrobe and put on the usual
‎gown. After I laid on the table the doctor explained who he was, the
‎procedure and that there might be an amnesic effect from the sedative.

‎The nurse placed a large needle into my right armpit, first saying
"this may
‎sting a bit" (it did), and an oxygen cannula mechanism in my nostrils. She
‎explained that anytime a sedative is administered, oxygen is also given.

‎The doctor complimented me on the fact that I had a person very close to me
‎presumably at home write my name and social security number using a
magic marker on my
‎buttocks and a note "Please Be Gentle With Me". They all had a good laugh
‎and said, "well that isn't the first time we've seen that, but it's usually
‎a tattoo". I exclaimed, "... at least you won't find an gerbils up
there".
‎That caused a great conversation amongst the Medical Students about the
‎South Park episode where bowel traveling gerbils were featured.
‎By that time the ever-suffering nurse said, "Now Mister
‎Mann, here comes the sedative" ... I went out like a light -- praying that
‎I wouldn't die on the operating table with eight feet of fiber optics up
‎the old Hershey Highway.

‎The procedure took about 20 minutes according to my staff members remaining
‎in the waiting room. I don't remember putting my clothes back on or the
‎unplanned and unfortunate incident with the large window overlooking the
‎Vanderbilt University Quadrangle's lunch area filled with astonished
students,
‎nor anything actually, until getting into the car and emitting some
explosive
‎and expansive salutations.

‎Somewhat similar in effect to a gigantic "whoopee" cushion designed by the
‎special effects crew of the old "B" movie "Land of the Giants".

‎Recovery has taken about 24 hours. I had a lot of cramping and medium pain
‎due to the fact that they took several biopsies. Flatulence continued for
‎about 12 hours, mostly very noisy but interestingly, without the usual
‎horrific stench which I usually emit.

‎Note for conspiracy theorists: No evidence of any Space Alien Probes
were discovered.

‎If you are over 50 please have your colon examined and don't worry
about the
‎side effects.

‎Cheers,

‎Dave