Support Bros

I believe the real measure of a partner can be determined when the going gets tough. 

Drink Up!

A prime example of this presented itself yesterday when I had to go in for a colonoscopy.

There are few things as ick-worthy as this procedure, which requires a stranger to maneuver a tiny camera up into your colon to see what's what.

Prior to this adventure, one must cleanse oneself of all detritus so the doctor can see clearly. This requires the patient to drink a gallon of nasty liquid until everything in their system is cleaned out. (It felt like things came out of me that hadn't seen the light of day in years, but I could be exaggerating.) 

There's an old Allan Sherman song that kept going through my head..."I see things in your peritoneum that belong in the British Museum..."

But I digress.

My point is, the process was not pleasant, but Mr. Ginley was there to provide support, bringing me refills of the colon blow required to clean me out, transporting me to and from the procedure, settling me in with snacks so I could rest for the remainder of the day and getting his own dinner. 

Being that he's always there in the clutch, it's easier to overlook the stray banana peel left on the living room floor, his repetitive queries and other minor annoyances. 

Sometimes when I get frustrated, I imagine what life would be like if he weren't around, and I decide to keep him.

I mean, who else would make an observation like, "Why are people freaked out by aliens doing anal probes but they don't think anything of getting a colonoscopy?"