ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I read with amusement Bob's recent poem about the Prostate test and the subsequent postings of like procedures. Certainly brought to mind the Colonoscopies I have endured.

"Bringing up the Rear"

The memory is clear as if it happened yesterday,
an episode entrenched deep in the mind.
Prevention trumps all cure, at least that's what they say,
leaving me a wondering, what was there to find?

It's called a Colonoscopy, the deed of which I speak,
a calculated peek inside one's colon,
the medical profession's game of hide and seek,
should anything need extraction, you'd hope it won't be swollen.

A Colonoscope's the tool that's used, a tube of four foot long,
the thickness of a finger with a camera and a light along its tip.
I'm thinking that this instrument's a bit more than a thong
and ponder does it come with chains and whip.

And how does one prepare for this assault upon the bowel
to welcome lights and camera up the date?
Imbibe what seems like gallons of liquid truly foul,
a witch's brew, of that there's no debate.

This drinking orgy, it goes on for hours before the action
to cleanse the passage where the scope will reach.
As you may guess, this exercise brings little satisfaction
but, finally, one does acquire a spotless shiny breech.

On then to the main event, the prime bout on the card,
thank the Lord they give you anaesthetic.
With the khyber filling up with tubing by the yard
to have to lie and watch would be pathetic.

Next thing that you know, you wake to cup of tea,
your dignity has somehow been restored.
The dam's stopped overflowing as far as you can see
and nothing is extruding like a stretched extension cord.

As a keepsake of the incident you earn a DVD,
to watch when nothing else is on the box.
Hardly thrilling viewing, I'm sure you would agree,
unlike certain others where the star is minus jocks.

The process as I've mentioned, is not one you'll forget,
akin, I s'pose to how to ride a bike.
Any rubber hose may sometimes bring on a cold sweat
plus the tale of little Dutch boy with finger in the dyke.

Jeff Thorpe 05 May 2011

I like it Jeff. Having recently undergone this procedure I know where your coming from, but one thing that amused me at the time, on the findings report theres a section that says 'Excellent bowell prep' a bit like a report card lol, I wonder what they put on the ones that are'nt. Does'nt bear thinking about really.
Sue

Yeah Been there done that Jeff.


Every two years and it don't get any easier.

Prep tastes like Camel spit

Bob

I've never been one to sample camel spit Bob, so I take your word for it.

G'day Mumsie

Nice to meet you. You're top of the class with that report. Not a trophy you'd really wish for though.

Cheers Jeff

Hi Bob & Neville
That's a pretty fair assumption Bob. First time I mixed it with ginger ale - scotch now is drunk on the rocks. Camel Spit's not far off the mark Neville.
Regards, Jeff

When you meet this specialist there are things that you must do.
When you meet this fella, make sure you cop a squiss
and when he shakes you by the hand


Check out how long His finger is !!!!

Bob

... NEVER accept a drink from your Urologist!
(or accept food from your proctologist)

While I think it's a pretty good poem, I don't know what's more disturbing, the subject matter or the fact that at least two people seem to know what camel spit tastes like.

I've never tasted camel spit
and hope I never do
but seemingly Bob Pacey has
and Jeff Thorpe might have too.

Well written mate, but me's thinking, where would you perform this one? Even I would steer clear and that's saying something. lol

You could try it on the blokes in the doctor's waiting room to pass the time. You might to the front of the queue.