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Keepin' Doctors in Business

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Keepin' Doctors in Business


I have more doctors at my disposal and looking after me than the President, and ever since I reached my golden years I have needed all of them. On my sixty-fifth birthday everyone was congratulating me on reaching this plateau in life.  “You look good for a man of your age, how’s your check up look?”  

“What check up?” I ask.

“You mean you haven’t had a checkup yet?”

“Well,  I been meaning too, just haven’t got around to it yet. I mean, I feel like a million bucks.”

“Well, you need to have that prostate checked, a man your age needs to check that every year or so.”

And that’s when it started. “Drop your drawers and bend over this table,” the doctor said, snapping on a rubber glove and sticking his finger in a jar of what looked like hog lard. “You may notice a little discomfort, as I have a hang nail,” he said. 

Now I don’t know who came up with the word “discomfort” but it has been used as a major part of each doctor’s vocabulary that I have dealt with. It comes from an old Indian word that means, “hang on to your ass this is gonna hurt like hell.” Since that first prostate exam (and I would like to know who the hell came up with this idea to start with? Some doctor in San Francisco to entertain his patients I suppose.) I have had many, and so far that’s the only part of me that has stayed healthy, and the only thing they haven’t cut out or off of me. In fact, you can look down my throat and all you can see is a little brown hole with hair around it, everything else has been cut out and fed to the cats.  

“You have a murmur in your heart,” the doc said.  “One of the valves needs to be replaced.”

“You’re saying I need a valve job?”

“We can replace that with a pig valve,” he said. 

“Oh great,” says I, “as my wife just happens to have a pot bellied pig we can use.” 

“Sorry, but we have to use a special pig raised just for this purpose and he costs thirty thousand dollars.” My wife said it would cost more than that to kill her little Piggy Sue, plus the divorce. 

“Okay, I said, “but I am not paying that much for just a little piece of that pig. I want the rest of him cut and wrapped.”

You should have seen the look on that doctor’s face—dumb founded! 

“What?! No one ever asked for the rest of that pig before?” I asked. 

I have a family doctor whose job it is to refer me to a specialist whose job it is to determine just what’s left they can cut off or out. Keeping me on a rigorous schedule, after each major operation they determine just how long it takes me to recover before they can find something else to cut out.  The latest surgeon had scheduled me for an extended stay in a major hospital to operate and remove some suspicious looking spots that showed up on my x-rays , that were later determined to be the buttons on my shirt. It seems he had just bought a new BMW and was looking for a payment plan. 

When I went to his office to sign the consent forms I casually mention that I had no insurance, at which point he grabbed his chest and went in to a cardiac arrest. After the staff revived him and got him stable again he shuffled some papers and discovered that two aspirins would relive any affliction I might have. 

Cancer is the big one, the one everyone dreads getting but just knows for sure they’re going to get it. It has turned atheists into Bible-thumping holy rollers and Crusades have been started against it. More money has been raised to fight cancer than all the wars cost, but by the time the money is sifted through all the greedy fingers there’s not much left for the research. I have had three cancer operations plus chemo. Having cancer is like stepping in doggie ducky, you can never quite get rid of all of it. I was given a clean bill of health and next day there was a speck they missed. It spreads like your in-laws at Thanksgiving. 

The colon is a favorite place for cancer to start on men; that’s why a colonoscopy is so important for men to have. And it’s no wonder. With the kinda food that passes through it, it’s a wonder it lasts as long as it does. 

Doctor Pig Sticker found cancer in my colon when I had my first colonoscopy, and to prove it to me he ran a scope, (film at eleven) to show me a picture of what colon cancer looks like, after which I apologized to my colon for having eaten all that Bar-B-Q  and rare steak, bacon and pork sandwiches, stuff that would eat the lining out of a galvanized pipe. This may be a little graphic for some of you older folks but for the younger ones who want to see what colon cancer looks like I will give you a graphic example. First, a healthy colon is a light pink in color and as you scope up yellowing will start to appear. Then it gradually turns to red then bright red, then dark red and finally black. Now, if you didn’t know what this picture was of you would just think it was a photo of some bright colors. That’s what my friends thought when I sent this picture as a Christmas card. I won’t tell you what their response was when they found out, but, so far, the get well cards I have painted for the Leanin’ Tree card company from all my experiences in and out of doctors’ offices and hospitals has kept up with the expense of keeping alive. So, if you know someone who is sick, please send them a get well card created by Boots, as I never know what the doctors will find that they will want me to pay for.


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Author info

Boots Reynolds Boots Reynolds The "internationally-renowned cowboy artist" Boots Reynolds has moved his comedic interpretation of life into the writing field with his regular column in the River Journal - From the Mouth of the River.

Tagged as:

health, humor, cancer, colonoscopy, medicine, From the Mouth of the River, prostate, Leanin' Tree cards

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