Honey, I got you something special

My life got a whole lot weirder this morning.

Groupon presented me with spa treatment today

Nope, not that kind. You're not going to get healthy with an avocado facial, you pansy. This deal is for colon hydrotherapy. 

Naturally, I start thinking about my colon. Is it happy? Am I treating it well? Does it need a little extra love? 

I click on this fabulous deal to get more information.

First, they start to scare me with some science and big words. I don't know what ubiquitous means, but it must be bad. And I know for a fact that I don't want President Lincoln setting up camp in my digestive tract:

'Similar to old pennies, environmental toxins are ubiquitous, harmful if swallowed, and may contain trace amounts of Abraham Lincoln. Feel good head to tails with this Groupon.'

Then, they tell me about the cute clothes that I get to wear during my day at the spa :

'During one-hour colon hydrotherapy appointments, patients don a hospital gown and lie upon a padded treatment table on their side. '

Love me some hospital gowns. Feeling more naked than normal is exhilarating.

Now we get the deets:

'The therapist gingerly inserts a disposable plastic speculum into the rectum, then has the patient roll into a comfortable position on their back. Through the valves, tubing, and Dutch canals of her gravity-fed closed system, 100-degree, quadruple-filtered water ebbs and flows through the length of the colon, stimulating peristalsis and flushing out stale waste matter.'

Words that were not necessary: 

therapist

gingerly

inserts

speculum

rectum

valves

tubing

Dutch canals (don't try to get all cultural on me)

gravity-fed closed system

100-degree QUADRUPLE-FILTERED water 

ebbs and flows (what is this? A poem?)

length of the colon (oh I know it's about 17 thousand feet)

peristalsis (hold it. I've taken a science class. This action is not going to make sunshine appear.) 

This is all code for:

Some hippie person who doesn't have a license to practice medicine is going to stick a plastic tube 17 thousand feet up your butt to flush out your colon with pure, untouched mountain spring water that hasn't been meddled with since the days of the dinosaurs. You're gonna love the ebbing and flowing. We don't have any real medical equipment, so we won't be able to tell if there's any cancer happening (or if we're ripping through the intestinal lining) so you're going to have to do this again, for real, with your actual colonoscopy representative. But buy this anyway. It'll make you feel pretty.

If you're not convinced, they let you know about the extra perks you get to enjoy NOT being in a hospital, surrounded by knowledgeable people:

"I have candles burning, I have beautiful music playing–it's actually quite remarkable how relaxed a person gets," says Michele H----, CHT, describing the atmosphere in her colon-hydrotherapy treatment room at The Boulder Center for Vibrant Health.'

Thought One: The letters C, H, and T aren't anywhere near M and D. That can't be a typo.

Thought Two: What kind of music is the best accompaniment to colon hydrotherapy? 

Thought Three: The only way this can be completely relaxing is if my fingernails are also pulled out one by one. Is there an extra fee for a Medieval Torture Specialist? 

'Warm neck wraps and abdominal massages add to the sense-soothing nature of Michele's colonic sessions, while upgrades such as a hot-towel massage renders more relaxation than cuddling.'

Whoa. Something more relaxing than cuddling?

I'm sold.

I'm buying TWO of these and the next time I get my cuddle on and my man says, 'Mmm this is nice,' I'm going to reply, 'Babe, you have no idea. Let's go get some colon hydrotherapy with Therapist Michele.'

Oh, and I highly recommend this HYSTERICAL Dave Barry post about colonoscopies. I start crying from laughter every time I read it. A journey from my colon - into yours

(Over 80 people have actually bought this. There are no words.)