Yay, it's May! What do we think about? Tulips and colons, of course! I freaked out before my colonoscopy. Nobody wants one, even if we're having symptoms that warrant it. We're supposed to do it anyway when we're 50. I started worrying at 30. I finally had it done last month at age 53.

My purpose is to encourage, not frighten, because like mammograms, it's better to detect problems early. I promise you it was simple.

I assured Bob, "No colon gags." Like asking the doctor if business is looking up. He warned, "Don't make jokes. When you're nervous, you are never funny." So I didn't make an ass of myself (sorry).

You can't have solid food after 8 p.m. two nights before the exam. Five minutes before 8, I nuked half of a Jack's pizza. "Sweetheart," Bob said, wrenching the last slice from me, "you just had a gigantic bowl of chili."

"I can't eat tomorrow. I'll die if I don't eat this now!" With a killer glare, I wrestled the slice back.

The day before the exam, I drank a gallon of stuff to clean out my intestines. It's commonly called Golytely. Believe me. That name is a colossal misnomer. And ... if there's ever a great time to weigh yourself, it's then.

Only liquids are allowed. I was starving. When I couldn't get the last drop of broth by holding the bowl to my mouth, I sucked it up through a straw.

I'm glad the exam's behind me, so to speak. I was so anxious that when I signed their form, instead of my name, I literally put, "Signed." The staff was kindhearted. The procedure was painless and took 15 minutes, if that. And hey - they give you drugs that make you feel real good.

The hilarious part happens after the colonoscopy. You see, during the exam they put air up there to inflate the intestines. But here's the thing. That air has to come back out. And you can't leave until it does. So patients are led to one room, separated from each other by curtains. Are you getting my drift here - of the choral harmonics coming from a room full of folks who've just had colonoscopies? Trust me. It's not a Mozart sonata. Unless it's one played in a parade by demented clowns.

Now, I wasn't thrilled about this. The nurse, waiting outside my curtain, kept insisting, "It's got to come out."

"I can't!"

"You have to."

So I did.

She came right in. "You heard me?" I said.

"Yes." I was mortified.

And the poor nurse. Who wants to listen to people pass ... muster?

Before I left, I found that nurse who heard my physical concerto, thanked her for putting up with my shyness and kissed her goodbye (on the cheek).

I'll tell you. I was terrified, but it was so easy and the staff was so compassionate. If you're frightened of doctor's appointments, you are not alone. And if anyone dismisses your fears as silly, it's their problem, not yours. For me, if I don't face my fears, they lurk in the "I really should do this" section of my brain.

And I am so grateful to report that in the end (sorry again), I passed (I couldn't resist) with flying colors.