Life, the Universe and Everything

What is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the Universe and everything? It's - prunes.

That's what I said: prunes. And here you thought it was 42. Nope!! Prunes.

I started preparing for the colonoscopy on Sunday. I decided to do an old remedy that my mother used to use when I was a lot younger and had a bad stomach. So I went out and bought a huge bag of prunes. Very good for you, prunes. They are supposed to cure what ails you. If they don't, they will just give you agida. And the runs. Probably permanently.

Anyway, I ate a huge number of prunes on Sunday. And I waited. And waited. All this after searching everywhere for prunes that hadn't been sprayed, tampered with, irradiated, shrunk, or shot. I found organic ones in a health food shop, ate about ten, and thought, okay, Bob's your uncle, this will start the process going. It worked a bit-but on Monday I still had to ingest the liquid explosives given by the hospital. The stuff is noxious, called Klean Prep, tastes really awful, and it took two hours to start working. Meanwhile I had another great load of prunes.

I will ignore the ins and outs of the process (what an unfortunate expression-sorry!), but I did the same thing (minus the prunes) on Tuesday. Needless to say, I didn't venture out of the house on Monday or Tuesday! And in keeping with my determination to look at life from a position of gratitude, all I could imagine to be grateful for was the fact that I don't have an outside toilet. Really-there are still a lot of homes in this country that have the toilet at the bottom of the garden. So glad I don't have one of those-I would have spent two days and nights either sleeping (who slept??) outside or standing on my head to try to stop the flow.

Well-the colonoscopy on Wednesday was such a mess. It did get done (finally. After a five and a half hour wait), and I was really pleased that no cancer was found. But when I finally got home, I realized that at the Royal London these procedures were like going on an assembly line: finish one, start the next, no time in between. Why not just instal a conveyor belt, like at Chrysler, and push a button and start the next procedure? It would be faster-and the result would be the same.

I'm not going to even suggest that, since I am already persona non grata at both Bart's and the London! But it is an idea that will, I'm sure, see the light of day at some point.

So I was thinking about prunes, wasn't I? When I was a child and had a bad stomach, my mother used to come at me with a tablespoon of castor oil (prune juice came later). This was supposed to fix whatever ailed me-but what happened instead was that I threw up all over her. Talk about retribution!! After two or three times of having to wash everything, she then tried mineral oil. I was so sure she was trying to poison me!! Castor, oil, mineral oil, cod liver oil-every time she tried to entice me (really. How can you entice a child with castor oil, please tell me that!) and I threw up over her, she finally got the hint and stopped. She then tried prune juice-with the same results. After that she just let me suffer until I felt better. Wisdom at last.

The moral of that story is that you can stop anyone from coming at you with some nasty substance by throwing up all over them. They get the hint after wearing your breakfast a few times. Learn the art of projectile vomiting (obviously this advice isn't for anyone who is anorexic or bulimic-you probably do this anyway!). Learn to aim. Practice.

I'm really good at this-that is from years of practice. I hasten to add I have no eating disorders (unless you count gluttony). But if it is something (or someone) that really disagrees with me, I can puke on demand. And my aim is terrific. Usually.

Nobody will try to get you to ingest anything disgusting if they know they will end up wearing your breakfast. So practice the art of projectile vomiting. Learn to aim. Learn to hit the bullseye. People will write songs about you. They will name boulevards after you. You could end up in the Guinness Book of Records. You will be a world famous vomit meister. Why let such a talent go unrewarded?

Get the prunes. They're good cancer fighters, too (just in case you really need an added bonus). And lay off the cod liver oil.