...I called my friend Andy Sable, a Gastroenterologist, to make an
 appointment for a Colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy
 showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ
  that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly
 through Minneapolis .
 
 Then Andy explained the Colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
 reassuring and patient manner.
 I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because
 my brain was shrieking, quote,
 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND !!!!'
 
 I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription
 for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to
 hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later;
 for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the
 hands of America 's enemies .
 
 I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous
 ..
 Then, on the day before my Colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In
 accordance with my instructions,  I didn't eat any solid food that day;
all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less
 flavor.
 
 Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder
 together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water.
 (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32
 gallons..)
 
 Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because
 MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit
 and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
 
 The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great
 sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowel
 movement may result.'  This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
 
 MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here,
 but  Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch?
 This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle.
 There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt.
 You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting
 violently. You eliminate everything.  And then, when you figure you must be totally
 empty,  you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I
 can tell,  your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you
 have not even eaten yet.
 
 After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning
 my wife drove me to the clinic.  I was very nervous..  Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I  had been experiencing occasional  return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking,' What if I spurt on Andy ?'
 
 How do you apologize to a friend for something like that ?
Flowers would not be enough.
 
 At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood
 and totally agreed  with whatever the heck the forms said.
 Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went
 inside a  little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those
 hospital garments  designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you  feel  even more naked than when you are actually naked.
 
 Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
 Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was
 already lying down.  Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.  At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this,
 but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself
 too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in
 full  " Fire Hose Mode . "
 You would have no choice but to burn your house.
 
 When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room,
 where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist.
 I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around
 there somewhere.  I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left  side,  and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my
 hand .
 
 There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was
 'Dancing Queen' by Abba.
 I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during
 this particular procedure,
 'Dancing Queen' has to be the least appropriate.
 'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me.
 
 'Ha ha,' I said.  And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading
 for  more than a decade .  I f you are squeamish, prepare yourself,
 because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was
 like .
 
 I have no idea.  Really    I slept through it.
 One moment, Abba was shrieking 'Dancing Queen!  Feel the beat from the
 tambourine ...'  and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very  mellow mood   Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt.
 I felt excellent.  I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all
 over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors .
 
 I have never been prouder of an internal organ.