Henry Rollins Gets a Colonoscopy

Sleep eventually overtook me. The next morning, I arose ... an empty vessel. I was beyond food. I was Zarathustra, come down from the mountain. From the office, Heidi and I made our way to the doctor's. Not allowed to drive, I had ample time to prepare material. I was going to open with some gerbil jokes and see where it took me.

We got to the reception area and checked in. Contemporary jazz music piped through the system. The nice young woman behind the desk beamed as she said, "You're here for a colonoscopy!" as if it was just the best damn thing ever. I confirmed, did the last of the paperwork and took a seat.

I went through issues of People magazine and wondered if any of the adult male actors in the photos had ever been to this office to have a tube stuck in their ass. I stopped on a photo of Tom Hanks and thought about that for a while. No offense, Tom. My mind started to wander and I saw an image of John Boehner and Mitch McConnell face to face, lying on their sides having simultaneous procedures. "Whatchadoin'?"

At 1030 hrs. sharp, a woman came into the reception area and called my name. Go time. She introduced herself and asked me how old I was. "Twenty-seven?" I ventured. She didn't buy it.

Within minutes, I was down to a pair of socks and a gown, open in the back. I kept my watch on out of defiance. I imagined how funny I would look running down the street with just the socks and the gown on when the taser hit me. I think it would be the watch that the passers-by would remember as I lay twitching.

Minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in and briefed me on what was going to happen. He said the word colonoscopy so brightly and sharply, you could have bounced a dime off of it. He said there would be a sedative, and when the doctor said go, he would knock me out. I was told to roll onto my right side. With the sedative in my system, all I could think was, "Hey sport, how do you want to make it?"