Last evening, our support group went totally off the rails. What began as obtaining surgery in a foreign land ended up … let me just give you what I recall as the transcript of the mirth and mayhem.

There is a cast of characters. Female 1 (Sally), Female 2 (Carol), Female 3 (Lucy), Male 1 (Peter) and me (Steve). Bogus names, of course. Of these cast members, Sally and I (me in opening credits) are to blame for what happened.

Carol: If you must get a colonoscopy in a foreign country, Singapore is the place to be. It’s as clean as Disneyland.

Lucy: Why is that?

Carol: It’s clean because of martial law.

Sally: Disneyland or Singapore?

Carol: Singapore.

Lucy: That’s a relief.

Steve: What’s a relief is when the colonoscopy is over.

Peter: Martial law…

Carol: A few years ago two Americans were caned for littering or something. It was in the news for months.

Steve: I sure hope the colonoscopy never becomes a ride at Disneyland.

Sally: How about the caning?

Steve: Yes! S&M-land! You go to see Captain Eo and instead of 3D glasses they hand you a ball gag!

Sally: On the Alice in Wonderland ride you have stuff leaking and dripping from the purple mushrooms.

Steve: Form two lines, please…

I’ve taken liberty in removing parts of the conversation not pertinent to the derailment. So unprofessional. I was laughing so hard I stopped breathing. I was asphyxiating myself through laughter. It hurt. It hurt so good. Which is another ride in S&M-land. Mr. Toad’s Wild Autoerotica.