Today’s a late day for me. I had a doctor’s appointment and can tell you if ever a man desired the disestablishment of a profession it would be me asking to disenfranchise Proctologists.
The very nature of the business is one of the greatest ignominies ever noted. I mean really! Just how does a doctor choose, out of all of the possible human anatomical systems and structures available, to specialize in the examination, inspection, diagnosis of the diseases concerning and the general health of the final element of the digestive system?
Okay, so doctors have heavy educational requirements to earn their degrees. Four years of undergraduate classes. Three to five years of graduate work. Internship and Residency follow and all the while they’re being exposed to many specialties they could work with. And somehow they decide they want an extended degree in the inner and outer workings of the Ol’ Discharge Chute. It amazes me.
In all of the matters to be studied to ensure the continual good health of a human this has to be one of the most embarrassing. (There’s no pun there folks. Don’t bother looking for it.) The idea of being tested regularly and being expected to NOT protest is a bit much to bear. But, it must be done and I really do respect the specialist trying to assure I have no cancer or unknown growth or undisclosed disease to threaten me and my family’s security.
It’s just that it’s intrusive and undesirable and distasteful to have to do this. Being placed in unimaginably humiliating positions requiring the pigeon-toed placement of the feet and leaning like a human replica of the Tower of Pisa while the work is done can put a lifetime of potty jokes into perspective for you.
As my doctor plied his trade it was all I could do to not sing an aria from Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries. I’m a natural baritone but I swear it sounds like I’m huffing Helium when the doctor starts eliciting commentary on the Saint’s on-field performance. You’d think he’d have more concern for my dignity but maybe that’s why he enjoys the field so much.
I do feel a sense of camaraderie with my least favorite physician however. There is a parallel between his field of endeavor and my chosen avocation post retirement. He’s a scientifically based, highly educated individual working for the betterment of a patient-me. He takes his years of training and observational skills and deduces the positives and negatives of structural inconsistency to develop a diagnosis and a consistent, workable treatment to ensure the best prognosis for the patient.
See? It’s logical the doctor and the Political Commentator/Pundit should be placed in society at a level of parity.
The doctor cares about the patient, no matter the actual placement of his diagnostic genesis. He’s aware of where the product was initially integrated into the digestive system. He knows the complete process of ingestion, digestion and expulsion at the end of the cycle; after the completion of removing the nutrients from the food keeping the human alive. The doctor knows how all of this works and he works to keep it working properly.
I do the same thing. I care about my country. I despise the diseases sickening and wreaking havoc with the complete package. Where ulcers and cancers and the ravages of time take their tolls on the muscular digestive system, the Democratic and Republican Parties have taken their tolls on the conduct of governance for the American people.
It’s not that difficult to understand the parallel. The Proctologists work with discharge chutes. So do Political Commentators and Pundits. One works with the effluent of a digestive system. The other works with the effluent of a governmental system-restrictive, interventionist, duplicative edicts, controls and oversight by unqualified demagogues seeking power and recognition for doing less than nothing to control more and more.
The Proctologist inspects a**holes for a living and for the betterment of the patient. So do I.
I inspect Obama and the Congress for the betterment of the country. Any way you look at it, the subject under scrutiny is full of s*it.
Thanks for listening.