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Endoscopy Blues.

Medway, United Kingdom

By: Green Fuz on the 25th October 2009 at 5:22pm

Anecdote - Short story - Embarrassing

Some say the bum hole should be a one-way street, the cock hole should be, take my word for it.

I had been suffering from a urine infection, so I saw my doctor, who gave my plums a squeeze, then ordered me up to the hospital for a Cystoscopy, the rather frightening procedure of having a camera shoved up the Japs eye.

When I got to the waiting room a rather chirpy nurse took me behind a pale green curtain and told me to take off my clothes. All of them I asked? Yes, all of them she said. I changed into a dressing gown and slippers. I had to buy the dressing gown and slippers especially as I never wore such things at home as I thought them only for pensioners and mental patience.

I sat down in the waiting room with a bunch of sick people. I picked up a magazine and pretended to read, it was about some glamour model whose surgically enhanced boobs had exploded on a plane at 30,000 feet. I yawned. A rather cute teenage girl was sitting across from me with her mother. The girl was staring at me and smirking. I’ve still got it I thought smugly, before I realized I was flying low with my undercarriage hanging out, I quickly pulled down my dressing gown to cover up my Jazz bags and smiled back at the girl, but caught her mother giving me a filthy look. She must have took me for a pervert, sat there naked under my dressing showing my knackers off to young girls.

I went back to the cheery nurse and this is what I said;
“I think I’m suppose to have a gown.”
“Yes, of course you are silly, why don’t you have one?”
“You didn’t give me one.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
She smiled at me with some pity, like I was the stupid one.

I slapped on my boxers then sat back down next to a rather dangerous looking skinhead handcuffed to a couple of police officers. He was an intimidating looking fellow, built like a brick shit house with tattoos of big titted ladies on both sides of his head. He had those crazy eyes of the ill tempered and violent of disposition. He noticed me looking at his tattoos.
“What are you looking at, it’s a tat of me mum, you staring at me mum?”
He gave me an evil grin. The old bill told him to behave himself.
“I could do with a fag, can I smoke in here?” He continued.

An old black guy came hobbling back from the operating room, the grinning nurse called out a name and the skinhead’s escorts got him to his feet and walked him through the swinging doors, he put on an elaborate swagger as he went. Just me, the girl and her scowling mother remained. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence I could hear a muffled commotion coming from the operating room, the skinhead was shouting, “No fucking way! Not a fucking chance lady! You’re not putting that thing anywhere near my cock! Fucking forget it! No offense love, but fuck right off!”

The cops led him out in handcuffs. “Take me back to my cell.” He was going, “Take me back to fucking prison.” I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Before I noticed the demented nurse who came up to me wiggling her little pinkie, “Your turn my luvvie.” My smile quickly turned into a frown with its pants on backwards.

I was led into the operating room, inside were two nurse’s and a doctor. One of the nurses instructed me to lay on the table and lift up my gown, exposing my jolly Rodger. I was extremely embarrassed, especially since my fat Bockwurst had shriveled up into a chipolata with two walnuts. The nurse approached me with the apparatus for insertion, I caught glimpses of a thick black cable, at the end of which was some sort of horror movie torture device that a serial killer might use to gut a tied up teenage virgin. The nurse started the procedure by numbing the tip of my John Thomas with an anesthetic gel, which tingled in a pleasing way. I took a deep breath, the nurse smiled at me, how bad could it be I wondered.

"AAAGGGHHH!!! FUCKADUCKSASSHOLE!!!" I screamed at the excruciating pain, which felt like having a pneumatic drill forced up my woody woodpecker. Just when I thought the pain of the pressure couldn’t get any worse the doctor shoved it inside further, scrapping along the insides like a cheese grater. I could see the monitor which was showing the cameras view of the inside of my Jack Johnson, which looked surprisingly how you’d expect the inside of a shlong to look like; Gollum’s anus. I was crying, wincing and struggling like a little girl, one of the nurses had to hold me down,
“Are you ok?” She felt obliged to ask me.
“Smarts a bit.” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“It usually goes through a bit easier with the older gentlemen.”
She said without sympathy, like that was supposed to make me feel better.

Then they yanked it out quickly snapping it with the speed of a retracting whip.
“Jesustittyfuckingchrist! Thank god for that!” I exclaimed with genuine relief.
“Good news,” Said the doctor, oblivious to my discomfort, “Nothing nasty in there.”
“Oh.” I said.

I felt like I needed a piss, maybe I had already had a piss, it was too painful to tell, but a nurse seemed to be mopping up the area where I had been lying down. I went back into the waiting room and hobbled straight into the toilet. I went to piss and nearly collapsed with the pain, it was like pissing with a razor blade stuck up my uretha. Nothing but a few drops came out, I started shaking the snake, but the drops wouldn’t stop. I tucked him back in and felt the warm wetness of the pee drops in my boxers. I walked out of the lavatory and immediately felt like I needed to go again. I got changed quickly and went straight back to the toilet and repeated the same painful process. After I finished I left the toilet and still felt like I was busting for a piss. Concerned I walked up to the nurse, “Is it normal to want to pee all the time afterwards? I asked her.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” She said smiling, ignoring my question. That was probably her stock response.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Well, it’s not the same as having a baby, that’s much worse for us ladies, like squeezing a watermelon out of a Nostril. Ha ha!”
“Well, at least you have fanny contractions for that.” This, finally wiped the shit eating grin off her face.

So there you go. Having a camera up the purple yoghurt slinger is much more painful than anyone lets on. I spent the next few weeks with a very sore dong, feeling like I was busting for a pee all the time, in and out of the toilet all day and night pissing needles. I would rather the old chap falls off than go through that again.

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