I hear you have an appointment tomorrow morning with the surgeon for a consultation. If at all possible I’d like you to reconsider keeping this appointment. In fact, I strongly recommend you cancel it. Why do you want to get rid of me after all the fun times we’ve had together? Yeah, I do act up throughout the day, but hey, all you have to do is push me in and I’ll be out of the way.
I’ll never forget that look on your face upon my arrival. You felt that strange swelling in your lower abdomen and after you ran to the restroom for an impromptu self-examination, you were startled to see the area puffed up like a balloon. Sure, you were able to push it back in, but little did you realize that you had just witnessed the beginning of our wonderful friendship. I’m sure that’s the last time you’ll ever have gummy candy with diet soda, huh?
And I’m sure you’ll never forget the strange noises I made whenever there was gas in your intestines. You have to admit it was funny when people stared at you while wondering where those strange flatulent noises were coming from. And the fact you were too ashamed to admit that it was me, your very own hernia, making all those noises? Priceless.
And now you want to have surgery to get rid of me. Why? So you can return to your normal life without having to constantly reach in your pocket so you can push me back in? Don’t tell me you’re actually going to miss being one of the few people on Earth who can make flatulent noises from both front and rear. You’d be perfect for “America’s Got Talent”.
Did you ever consider what’s going to happen to me once you have this surgery? I’m going to disappear and then be gone from your life forever. Are you sure this is what you really want to do? I’d think this over real carefully. Maybe then your desire to get rid of me will change.
I look forward to your response.