A string of events led to me writing on Facebook earlier that ‘I’d only want it up the bum if it would help me lose weight’…. Now out of context I’m sure that sounds filthy beyond all belief and you’re all shocked and appalled that such smut could come out of my angelic face… no?
It’s all PG’s fault for winding me up about my impending endoscopy by telling me that they might decide to do it up the bottom, or in his words ‘oop di poomper das ist gut ja’. Not being a boy who likes boys or indeed a devout Christian who thinks that bum love doesn’t count as sex before marriage (and is therefore okay) I am not a fan of having things shoved up my batty crease so the thought was concerning me. I decided in my infinite wisdom, or in my infinite desire to overshare every aspect of my life, to ask on Facebook if someone could tell me which end I had to open wide.
Thankfully I was reassured within minutes that the tube would be going down and not up and then the lovely Crusher said she was sure I could have a colonoscopy if I really wanted one. Cue me innocently putting my foot in it by saying that I’d only take it up the bum if it’d help me shift some lard. Of course what I meant was by way of a colonic irrigation not someone’s willy up my chuff.
The very mention of bum love brought out the smut and it wasn’t long before someone made a crack about me deep throating the tube – I swear if I choke on the tube whilst laughing as I remember this I’m going to sue….
Still, the humour has removed the sense of fear about having a tube rammed down my throat to see what’s going on with my pouch. I saw my lovely surgeon yesterday and I’m going to be having another operation, nothing to massively stress about but going under the knife is never that much fun. I trust him implicitly which is very reassuring, and I have a team of cheerleaders behind me every step of the way which is awesome and means that I’ll be back on my feet in no time. Now I’m just left to break the news to work……….