Back in the early 90's, I developed a colon condition known as Proctitis. For those who may never have heard of it, the best way I can describe it is to say it is a cousin of diverticulitis. The pockets in the intestine become engorged and irritated, causing some really severe pain and some mucus.

Another symptom is flatulence-pretty severe flatulence in fact. Oh, what the heck! Let's call a spade a spade--they're downright rip-roarin' farts!!

When this condition first developed, I was still in the insurance business. I would have an appointment with a client, go into their home, start my presentation, and feel the gas begin to build. Well, of course, I had to refrain from that oh, so good, feeling of letting one rip, so I would hold it in.

By the time I left the client's home and was back in my car, I felt as though the air was going to come out of every orifice in my body. At last, though, I was free to cut loose! What a relief!!

The condition got out of control before I decided it was not "just something I had eaten." So it was off for a visit with the gastroenterologist, who, of course, immediately stated that I needed a colonoscopy.

Now, that is an experience every person should get to enjoy at least once in his lifetime. I remember when Katie Couric, whose husband died of colon cancer, let them film her having a colonoscopy. She wanted to stress the importance of having one for early detection of collorectal cancer.

Folks, let me tell you, she left out a few steps. First, the doctor had me pick up a jug of this wonderful liquid from the pharmacist. I'm supposed to begin drinking this about 4:00 p.m. the day before my test. Now, we don't sip this stuff, which tastes something like dirty dishwater must taste--only worse. Instead, we drink an eight ounce glass at a time. In thirty minutes, we drink another eight ounces.

It usually takes about 32 ounces of the stuff before I have any results. By that time, I am more bloated than a cow on green wheat. Now, the farmer can take a knife and stick the cow to give her some relief.

We humans, on the other hand are not so fortunate. Cursing is allowed, however. Some of the names I called that doctor at about this point in time, I'm too much of a lady to repeat!!

Then! KABOOM! RESULTS AT LAST! From that point on, it's run to the bathroom for a fifteen minute ordeal, drink another "Montezuma cocktail", run back to the bathroom, have another swig of the poison, then head back to the toilet.

Let me also add, this is not a day to skimp on toilet tissue. My butt got so sore I was sure I was going to have to dig out the old donut that I used when I had my children. So be sure and have the squeezable soft brand on hand.

After I finished the deadly drink, which takes about two hours, I just grabbed a good book and took up permanent residence on the toilet. Remember the story of the woman who sat on the toilet so long that her skin grew to it? I was beginning to think that might happen to me before I finally got off that thing.

But all good books must come to an end, and mine finally did, so I went to bed, weak as a newborn lamb, to dream of the upcoming procedure. I could not even begin to imagine how bad it was going to be after this ordeal.

Oh, but wait! There's more. Just for good measure, I had to take two fleet enemas the next morning before reporting in for what I was now convinced was going to be the worst experienc of my life.

To top it all off, he's probably going to tell me I have colon cancer when he finishes. What a wonderful prospect for the next day's activities.

When I finally go in for the procedure, the doctor, whom at this point I could easily kill with my bare hands, tells me he's not going to put me to sleep, but that he will be giving me something so I won't remember the procedure.

I'm thinking, "Yeah, sure! You're also the one who told me that concoction I had to drink didn't taste all that bad!"

But, I had no recollection of the procedure and the news was no cancer--but proctitis. It's a chronic condition for which there really is no cure. It flares up every now and then, if I get careless with what I eat or drink, but I recognize the symptoms now and know what to do to head it off.

Since then I have had three or four more colonoscopies but now I know what to expect. I just grab a glass, get my jug of poison out of the frig--cooling it supposedly improves the taste, find my book and head for the toilet!