COLONOSCOPY NOW: Phases I & II

Content warning for MATTERS GASTRONOMICAL, for SAFEWAY GAS-PUMPS BEING A DICK, for HOPEFULLY UNFOUNDED FEARS OF CANCER, and for POTIONS OF CRAP-YOUR-ENTIRE-SKELETON Hiya! So you may recall some time back—exactly how far I can’t recall, for time has become a flat circle under whose edge I am ground like so much delicious, I dunno, sorghum—I got all dressed up for my date with the emergency ward1, which revealed a REVOLT AMONG THE DIVERTICULA2. This would not do. An appointment with a gastroenterologist followed (the worst part of which was the Safeway gas-pump that wouldn’t take my fucking money afterward3), and he suggested a colonoscopy, as the abdominal CT scan I got at the hospital (because I just hadn’t spent enough money there) was apparently unable to actually see into the diverticula believed to be at fault, due to the CT’s nature as a kind of outside-in remote viewing; a successful psychic might be able to tell you what fruit you have in the bowl on your counter at home, but…