This is my first public service announcement this week, and this one is about
getting a routine colonoscopy, which means I am officially the town crier of
digestive health. When I called to schedule it, my brain immediately started
blasting random songs like it was hosting a chaotic internal DJ battle. Is that
weird? Absolutely. But colonoscopies are weird too — they’re intimate, awkward,
and feel like you’re starring in a medical reality show nobody asked for.
The prep turns your bathroom into a high‑traffic disaster zone. You’re basically living there, guarding the toilet like it’s a national monument. Time stops. Physics breaks. You start seeing visions.
Then you arrive for the procedure, and suddenly there’s a whole crowd in the room: the doctor, nurses, attendants, anesthesiologist, three interns who wandered in because they smelled coffee and possibly a guy named Carl who wandered in looking for the vending machine. Everyone is calmly preparing equipment while you’re lying there thinking, “Is this a colonoscopy or a surprise birthday party for my lower intestine?”
And somewhere in the chaos, my mind drifts to Orville Couch — a name so country it should come with its own tumbleweed. He had two charting songs, including Hello Trouble, which hit #5 on the country charts. Honestly, Hello Trouble feels like the official anthem of colonoscopy prep. The moment the laxative kicks in, your digestive system kicks open the saloon doors and says, “Howdy, partner. We’re about to go on a journey.”
