This post is for the Dude Write Starting Lineup where you can find some excellent posts by bloggers who happen to be dudes. They’re allowing ladies in this week. I’m re-posting this post from last week since it was hooked to my link-up. So, if you’ve already read it, read it again and tweet/share it this time, or just ignore it.
One of the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me occurred when I had a colonoscopy. I was having some issues in my “backyard” (rectum). And since I’m a hypochondriac, I immediately scheduled an appointment with my internist, hoping he could ease my mind with a quick diagnosis or refer me to a specialist.
I met with him the next day, and after a surprise “backyard” exam, he referred me to a specialist, who, thankfully, did not give me a second exam, but instead, scheduled me for a colonoscopy. Mmm.
The best part of a colonoscopy is that during the procedure you’re sound asleep and completely unaware of the violations being committed on your body. I remember drowsily waking after my procedure thinking, “I would be fully content, dying right now, in this peaceful slumber. Take me away…Calgon.”
The worst part is the prep for the procedure. The day before, you’re required to drink, what seems like, a barrel full of liquid laxative. The flavor was not unlike what ginger-flavored sewage water might taste like. It’s intended to “clean you out.” In fact, the directions warn, “Stay near a toilet! You will have diarrhea.” Directions like that…I’m gonna follow.
I chose to chase the vile liquid with Cherry Coke. It helped me…Not. One. Bit. It was disgusting. What it did help with was taking every crumb of food I’d consumed in the previous six years, that might have been trapped inside the wee crevices of my small intestine, and shooting them out my backside with the force of the Discovery blast-off. Repeatedly. All day.
So, of course, I had to share my experience with my best friend.
I found Felicity’s most recent email, opened it, hit reply, and in graphic detail, described to her how my intestines were turning inside out, while simultaneously attacking other organs like a bengal tiger attacks it’s dinner.
I hit send and smiled at the thought of her simultaneously laughing and being grossed out. Yes, I’m disgusting.
Have you ever experience one of those moments where your brain recognizes your error and screams, “STOP!”, but your body is still moving forward? That was one of those moments.
Instead of hitting ‘Reply’ on the mass email she had forwarded me, I had hit, ‘Reply ALL’!
Oh crap. Oh CRAP!!! Her family and friends and our mutual friends will see what I wrote about the sad state of my bowels! I mentally scanned through a list of our college friends. No. No! NO!!!
In my panic, I pulled up her email again, clicked ‘Reply ALL’ and quickly typed in the subject line, “Please ignore the previous email from me. Sorry.” and hastily clicked send.
Oh crap. OH CRAP!!! Telling someone to ignore your email is like saying, “Read Me. Read Me. Exclusive information in here!”
Needless to say, over the next hour I received a number of emails guffawing at my error and giving me “wise” words of advice to comfort my bowels.
The really painful thing is that I went through all that embarrassment only to find out that I had your regular, every day, garden-variety hemorrhoids.
Lesson: Be careful when hitting ‘Reply All’.
Now tell me, in the comments, something embarrassing you’ve done (you’re in good company). And be sure to share my embarrassment with all your FB and Twitter friends.