Where are a rope and a stout limb when you need them?

We've all had our "weeks from hell." Let me tell you (bore you) about mine. It all started on Wednesday, July 23, when I had to start preparing for a routine colonoscopy the next day. The process goes like this: About 3 p.m., you take a few Dulcolax tablets. A couple of hours later, you start gulping down glasses of Gatorade that has been mixed with a whole lot of a powdery laxative called Miralax. I was instructed to use 255 grams of Miralax, which is a whole tub of the stuff. I looked at the bottle, and if you're just trying to prod balky bowels, you use 17 grams. Needless to say, once the Miralax kicks in, it's a pretty good idea to be in the vicinity of a toilet. By midnight, I felt as if Mike Tyson had used me for a heavy-bag workout. The next day, I go in the for procedure, and despite the IV drug they gave me, I wasn't quite out of it when the doctor went to work on me with the tube. It felt pretty much like he had stuffed a couple of wolverines up my wazoo. Fortunately, the drugs kicked in shortly thereafter, and the next thing I knew, a nice lady was handing me a Coca-Cola. They also advised that the good doctor had snipped off a couple of polyps while he was "in there," so it wasn't just a casual tour of my lower intestines. After that, I'm figuring that life has to be looking up. Ha ha. It was shortly thereafter that the electrical system in my house began to behave in a strange manner. Out of the blue, half the house would periodically go dark. Just as mysteriously, it would go back on. Sometimes, if the air-conditioner kicked on, that would jump start the part of the house that was dark. I'm still in the process of trying to figure that one out and solve the problem without having to take out a loan. Then, the first of this week, the upstairs toilet and I had an epic two-day battle. I finally won, with the help of an Internet cure found by the missus that included hot water and Palmolive. In the midst of my jousting with the "royal throne," my son calls me at work to advise that something "really bad" has happened to the push mower. He tells me that there's some oil on the deck of the mower. When I get home, I tip it up to see if there's any damage underneath, and when I do that, all kinds of oil and large chunks of metal come out of the side of the engine compartment. Nice. I fully expected a plague of locusts or snakes the last couple of days, but all is quiet. And I got a call yesterday telling me those polyps I had snipped off were benign, so maybe things are looking up. Nevertheless, I'm still on the lookout for lightning bolts, and next week I get to take my car to the shop. Oh boy.