Elixir of the gods??

Recently, I've had occasion to ponder the wisdom of our national priorities.

Why is it that we can send a man into space, but we can't come up with a colon cleanse that isn't the most disgusting product known to man?

How is it that our clothing design industry can create beautiful fashions that models can wear to walk the glittering runways of the world, yet they can't design a hospital gown that covers the posterior portion of our anatomies?

Why is it that the clever scientific minds of our country can build robots, which can complete delicate medical procedures, but they can't develop a warm bedpan?

I have to admit that I was not asking these questions, at the time when the issue arose. At that time, several weeks ago, I was staring at the contents of a 16-ounce plastic beaker, which came in a packet with two dark bottles of liquid.

My instructions were to pour one bottle into the beaker and fill it to the top with water.

Then, I was to drink it all within a one-hour period of time, after which, I would be required to drink another 16-ounce beaker of water. This procedure was to be conducted the night before my visit to the clinic. The next morning, I was to repeat the procedure with a second bottle of liquid. Each drinking fest was to be done at five o'clock--p.m. and a.m.

Then, I would be ready.

Yeah, sure... As soon as I took the first drink of the sickly-sweet stuff, I knew I was in trouble. However, I trudged on. Doctor's orders--drink! It's good for you! Doctor knows best!

At 5 p.m., I took the first drink.

At 5:30, I finished the beaker of vile, sickly liquid.

At 5:45 p.m., I stared into the glittering porcelain bowl in the bathroom, where precisely half of my doctor-prescribed colon cleanse now resided--all 16 ounces of it, staring back at me in defiance.

"Ohhhh, no! Dr. Freeman's gonna kill me!" I muttered to myself, miserably.

No way was I going to touch the other half of that witches' brew, which remained for my 5 a.m. regime!

Next morning, I reported to the clinic for my two procedures--one going up and one going down.

I had the pleasure of explaining to, first, the receptionist, and, then, an assortment of nurses and aides just what had happened to the contents of those dark bottles of liquid which had cost me $72.00 (after insurance).

"Oh, you can't have the colonoscopy, if you're not cleaned out!" they said.

My disappointment was somewhat mitigated by the fact that my primary doctor had requested only the endoscopy--not the, ah, "other" one.

"She really only wants the endoscopy," explained my faithful friend and companion. "She had the other test 7 years ago. It's Dr. Freeman's idea for her to have the colonoscopy. He said it was 'buy one--get one free'!" my friend quipped, at which point everyone in the office cracked up.

"Good one!" said the aide who was there to escort me to my doom.

Ever the practical one, the aide whispered to me, "Just keep your pants on! Then they'll know you're not supposed to have the colonoscopy!"

Once in the operating room, I found that my doctor was not angry with me. Quite the opposite. He was most sympathetic and said that "next time" we would use a different cleansing product.

Oh, no! There's going to be a "next time"?

Well, this time, could I take my own gown??