Christ by Alex Eichen

The morning of my colonoscopy, I felt pretty sick and pretty scared (as you might imagine). They make you drink two
bottles of Phospho-Soda over thirty minutes, one the day before and one the morning of -- this cleans you out like you wouldn’t believe. Now, I had done this process before for an X-Ray with a different bottle of crap, but for some reason this other stuff made me feel even worse than the stuff before. I felt like I was going to throw-up with the first bottle. I had to wake up the next morning at six and drink another. I felt my hands that morning and they were cold; the only way to describe it is they felt like an old person’s hands – hands drained of life. That’s the feeling of hospitals, too: cold, plastic, closer to death.
I watched the Religious Channel that morning with my tired-eyed brother, who stared at me as I gulped down the
laxative mixed with Sprite. I didn’t envy him for having to go to school. I became fascinated with six AM television; on screen, an old man dressed in a puffy clown suit was talking about Christ. He had on this rainbow afro, pillowy bow-tie, and scary white make-up. He was talking about his time before God – his alcoholic years, carrying around an automatic, swearing, of course, drinking. And then came his story: his son was in a car wreck, wasn’t expected to pull through, and by some miracle, he did. This makes me think about life: all these people who are in a better place thanks to the Almighty. And there by the strings of God go I, empty, holding a runny nose, chugging laxative at six A.M. on a Wednesday morning, entranced by an old man in a clown suit doing magic tricks for Jesus. The Lord does work in mysterious ways.

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