oh, I thought you were talking about Colin Powell!
My (paternal) aunt, my God Mother and the mother of the cancerous cousin thinks that in light of my cousin�s recent check up that I too should go in and have my colon examined. They should examine my head too while they�re down there.
I�ve been advised to check my stools for blood. I�ll admit that the first thing I did when I got that e-mail was turn and look at the kitchen stools before I remembered which stools they�re talking about. I�m not rooting about in my fecal matter for anything, especially blood. Besides my aversion to playing �fecal hide and seek,� I�m color-blind. I can�t tell brown from red, I�d need help. Who is going to do that?
It brought to mind this time I was stuck in a car listening to this woman talk about getting therapy because she�s afraid of feces, vomit and blood. Who sees feces and says, �Feces, score!�? Honestly, who isn�t afraid of blood? Who likes to see feces and vomit? People who like those things are the ones who need the therapy, not the squeamish majority of people world wide who�d prefer you left those things in your body until you could deposit them somewhere where we would not have to see it.
So, I asked my mother what she thought and she said that if I wasn�t bleeding from my rectum (damn near kill �em) that I shouldn�t go in and have the procedure done. She said that it was invasive, painful, and undignified; she reminded me that my diet would prevent most forms of cancer; she summated her argument with, �do you really want some doctor shoving things in your ass?�
I thought about it and told her, �No, I suppose not � not without dinner and a movie first. You have to have standards.� Seriously, if we don�t all stick together on the fifty-dollar rule than we�re only hurting ourselves. I don�t care if he is a doctor; patience pays off.
