Archive for the ‘genetic’ Tag

08-06-2017 Syndromes!   Leave a comment

I think I’ve become a victim of RAS Syndrome. As you well know there seem to be hundreds of magical syndromes that are announced on a regular basis to help excuse what some might call “shitty behavior”. While there are many real syndromes out there some alleged experts create as many questionable or fictitious  syndromes as the imagination will allow. It’s those acronyms and syndromes  that are driving me mad. Searching the Net I’ve found hundreds and hundreds of these acronyms for just about anything you can think of.  Here’s one of mine:

RAS Syndrome (short for “redundant acronym syndrome syndrome”) refers to the use of one or more of the words that make up an acronym in conjunction with the abbreviated form, thus in effect repeating one or more words.

How about a few examples?

If you fart in church then you must be suffering from the infamous NFIPP Syndrome. That’s “Nasty Farts In Public Places”. It’s really not your fault that you farted, it’s the fault of the Church for pressuring you into attending services after one of their famous bean dinners.

Another of my favorites is the BBABO. That’s the “Bad Breath And Body Odor Syndrome”.  No matter where I go or where I sit a person suffering with this disorder manages to be right next to me.  That in turn gives me a case of VIMT. That’s “Vomit In My Throat Syndrome”‘, for those of you who are unaware that you may suffer from that same disorder.

I’ve also  noticed another major syndrome as I walked through our local Wal-Mart recently. It’s one of the most common ones I see these days. It’s confusing, disgusting, and at times revolting and it’s called the YODOAFM Syndrome. “You Obviously Don’t Own A F–King Mirror Syndrome”.  Many Wal-Mart customers have been infected over the years and now it’s threatening to become a pandemic.

I’ve suffered from a another syndrome since early childhood.  At times it’s been a good thing but occasionally it’s anything but. It’s the IDGASWYT Syndrome. That’s the “I Don’t Give A Shit What You Think Syndrome”. It’s something genetic I inherited from my father, his father, and his father.

The one that has shown up recently to cause all of us problems is the IHTBIAWC Syndrome. That’s “I Hate Trump Because I’m A Whinny Crybaby Syndrome” It’s been running rampant through the country since Election Day but only seems to be infecting Liberals, Democrats, and a few million illegal aliens.

I have another one for all of  them.  It’s the KMIA Syndrome (Kiss My Independent Ass).

01-30-2015 Journal–My Anal Adventures!   Leave a comment


This week begins the warm-up for one of my least favorite experiences I’ve been cursed with over the years.  It’s a special gift passed on to me through the genes of my late parents and one I wish I could have refused. The secret word for today is COLONOSCOPY.  I begin my preparations tomorrow for my seventh anal adventure and hopefully my last.  Over the next few postings I’ll document as best I can within  the limits of good taste the wonders of medical science I’m about to experience.  Lucky you!

My introduction to colonoscopies began many, many, years ago in a galaxy far, far, away.  After an annual checkup I was referred to a specialist for further exams and a possible bout with rectal and anal surgery for hemorrhoids and polyps.  Trust me, it wasn’t as great as I’m making it sound.  My very first meeting with the specialist lasted only ten minutes. I was given an armload of laxatives and and a large bottle of Citrate of Magnesia. I was handed a sheet of instructions on how to go  about emptying my body of just about everything and a future date for my return visit was also confirmed. All of a sudden I found myself back on the street with a real desire to find out exactly what the hell a colonoscopy actually was.  I needed to do some research quickly.

Two weeks later I seemed twenty pounds lighter after spending 48 hours within running distance of the nearest bathroom.  It was a humbling experience as I did everything possible to expel my entire insides down the drain. I arrived at the doctor’s office and checked in at the desk trying not to make eye contact with anyone. It was a lot like going to a fertilization specialist to ejaculate into a plastic cup or buying tampons at Rite-Aid for my better-half. Totally embarrassing.


I was led into an examination room wearing one of those backless paper gowns with my butt sticking out. I was laid face down on the table which was then elevated high enough to put my head near the floor and my ass in the air.  If that wasn’t humiliating enough there was a knock on the door and in marched ten student nurses who were permitted one at a time to take a peek at my butt, inside and out. They oooed and awwed as they passed by, took a few notes and marched from the room.   Here’s a reminder for you. Never schedule a rectal exam at a teaching hospital.  You’ve been warned.

Another twenty minutes passed by and my adventure began in earnest when a probe on the end of a cable with a flashlight, torch, and camera were slowly inserted further and further into my backside.  They lightly drugged me and I was able to look up my own ass on a nearby television screen. It looked like a gigantic pink Holland Tunnel without the cars.  I then fell asleep and awoke twenty minutes later feeling rather odd.  My wife picked me up after I recovered a bit and took me home where I was able to get a few hours of drug induced sleep.  It wasn’t much fun but unfortunately for me it was necessary.  My surgery was successful and I received my second colonoscopy just two months later.  The doctor apparently wanted to go back in to check his work.  I just love thorough doctors.

Fifteen years later my family doctor gave me more bad news during my annual visit.  Because of two colon surgeries on my late mother for cancerous polyps he felt I needed to be checked again. Colonoscopy number three came and went and I breathed another sign of relief.  I was good to go for a while I thought.

Within a few years my mother had another cancerous piece of her colon removed and that triggered regularly scheduled colonoscopies for me for the foreseeable future.  It’s now 2015 and I’m ready for number seven.  The technology has improved dramatically over the years and the drugs are much better.  Getting colonoscopies stopped bothering me years ago because the alternative is too ugly to think about.  Over the years I’ve had upwards of ten to twelve very small polyps burned from my colon and fortunately none were cancerous.  I plan on living a long and full life and these god awful procedures make that possible.  No matter what anyone tells you, fear is an excellent motivator.

More to follow.

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