Ok….this may be long winded or just winded. This may be offensive to some and hilarious to others. This may be in one part or two or three, just depends on how good the drugs are.
I have been putting off this screening test since I turned 50. I am now almost 52 and well every time I see a doctor they ask me to schedule this dang colonoscopy. I can’t run from it anymore, and no not like the 80s song of I can’t fight this feeling. I could have fought the feeling for a long time. I have dreaded this worse than my first pelvic exam, my first cesarean section and going to court with my divorce. But, I slipped on the big girl panties and prayed that I wouldn’t need depends and started the journey.
I will freely admit I have control issues and well the thought of pooping in public or farting in front of complete strangers had my knickers in a knot. So I start 4 days before the BIG day and changed my diet. Which by the way, all the weight watcher staples of dietary intake should be avoided when prepping for your colonoscopy. No fruit with peels, no raw veggies, no high fiber bread. So stewed chicken and white rice and noodles and eggs were my menu for the day. Now remind you I am getting nervous leading up to “the prep”. I think I am a pretty tough woman. I have had surgeries and thyroid biopsies and all other kinds of procedures. But the thought of this whole procedure has me a nervous wreck.
So the day before the procedure arrives. I start out strong with chicken broth and jello and diet sprite. I am like I can do this, this is going to be ok. Well then I met Mr. Bowel Prep. They make it sound like it isn’t going to be that bad. The people at the doctor’s office reassure me that it won’t be that bad. I am picturing myself like a scene from a favorite movie running into the bathroom and screaming hot lava is coming out or that I lose bowel control in front a whole lobby full of people. Yes, we all have bodily functions but I prefer to do mine in private without an audience.
Ok it is showtime. It is like the standoff at the OK Corral. Me standing there staring at this 16 ounce concotion that is going to empty my bowels from everything I have ever ingested. It says pleasant taste, smells like strawberry. Here it goes, the first sip…OMG!! This is like saltwater with strawberry shortcake imitation flavoring. I have to drink all of this? Ok, you are committed Stephanie, you have come to far. So a sip of this nasty drink and a sip of water. Oh it wasn’t good to the last drop that is for sure! So then I wait. Well it wasn’t that too long and yes it is like hot lava, pure water that just keeps coming. I am trying to drink broth and gatorade and water as I have been known to get dehydrated. I sit down to have to shuffle back to the bathroom with my butt cheeks tight as a tick. My son comes upstairs and says, and I quote ‘Oh my gosh that is a horrible smell! Are you sure that this is ok to be doing this?’ Then he has suggested he should accompany me tomorrow to see what happens (that is a no go). They have teased me at work for years saying I am the queen of B.S. and by the amount of this prep I may have lost my title. And to add insult to injury, I have done something to my left knee and it hurts to move now that I had to be off the glucosamine for this dang procedure and probably having a flair of sjogrens to boot. So I am going to look like a hobbling pirate with clenched butt cheeks and a red face. Reaching this age is a blessing but damn, I am feeling like my check engine light is on and the mechanic is running from end to end!
Round 2
So not only do you have to do this drink once but twice! Yes folks twice. Who thinks of this torture. Who thinks of lets have someone poop out their whole essence so we can stick a camera up their rear end and make sure they are healthy? Who concots this formula to drink? So many questions. Medical advancement is amazing. I work in health care and have seen how far technology and research have come so far. But I think I would like to live in the era, you know the one where all the women in the paintings were fluffy eating grapes, adored for their full bodies as a sign of fertility and comfort and no one cared if they had a polyp in their colon or a hemorrhoid. So here I am up at 4 AM for round number 2. Round number 2 wasn’t near as pleasant as round 1. My poor stomach revolted against this salt strawberry mixture, my inner gooddess calling me names and to not be a pansy (she used other words believe me). Oh this second round was so much more difficult to get down. I tried warm broth afterwards and about puked. It felt like I was blown up like a blowfish and then my stomach started rumbling. How in the world can there be anything else. Well just so you know, I know you are dying to know, no more you know, stool, just pure acidic water that would make you never want you to drink Mtn. Dew again. The packet states if you have reached this color stage your prep has been successful. However, it didn’t congratulate you about your arsehole feeling like it has been burned by a blowtorch and that you would go through a whole double roll of toilet paper and that you would chase your son and dog behind closed doors. But yay me, I passed their test. With this last dose I felt dizzy, ear ringing just let me pass out on the toilet. Then you still have to get dressed and trust your raw sphincter to keep puckered until you make it to the endoscopy center. Which, I am sure they are each dreading me from my shenanigans on the phone. I mean I could say that I am so happy I could poop to be going but I am out of poop and next up will be modesty out the door. So at this point I feel like I have gone through the ringer and that I am being a whimp. But I am going to put on a touch of mascara, brush my teeth and pray that I don’t have to find a sink to go in on the way. My poor mom is my designated driver and she will be here soon. I will pick this post back up once I am back home. I know the suspense is killing you and you feel the need for a morning constitution.
Round 3
Ok, made it to the center without any emergency stops or soiling myself! There is a start. I walk in looking like the youngest patient in the lobby, that is humbling and daunting. Everyone looking no worse for wear. My butt cheeks still clinched just in case. So a series of check ins and moving from waiting room to waiting room. Everyone acting like this is no big deal and my pulse is just racing. So finally back to a room. Put on a lovely gown and still feel that urge to go to the bathroom. The lady tries to start my IV and success after the second stick, the first stick bleeding through the guaze and has made a lovely ink blot pattern on my sheets and gown.. More papers to sign, people bustling around like ants on an ant hill. The doctor comes in and introduces herself. I apologize for her having to see my ample back side. She assures me it will be fine. Risks, benefits discussed and laid out in case you have questions or want to back out. I am in too far to back out and they have my underwear. I can’t leave. Then anesthesia. Ahhh the brightest spot of this whole gastro rollercoaster ride. A no-nonsense kind of woman, who isn’t warm and fuzzy, but you can tell she is confident. It is a small room that I am wheeled into. My pulse is flying yet I am trying to be brave. The moment has arrived—roll to your left side and gowns and blankets adjusted–my back side facing the door we just rolled through. Poor bystanders if they walk in. Confident anesthesia lady changes my bloody bandage and says ok here comes the propofol, with what seemed like a huge syringe was connected to my IV and she said it might cramp. My head went fuzzy and I was out like a fat kid off the seesaw. The next thing I know she is telling me to wake up. I really just wanted to sleep. Then to the recovery room. It is like a puppy mill for gastro. The recovery room is separated by curtains and people talking all around. The nurse introduces herself and says ‘I need you to pass gas’ which I am a high achiever and didnt keep her waiting for me to meet that milestone. My mom appears and then the doctor. The doctor said I did a good job on my prep as my stomach rumbles its approval. She did find 2 polyps and sent the for pathology and said see me back in 3 years. 3 years? Come on that is too soon! It ends up being the fastest recovery stay ever. Vitals stable, flatus flying, fluids kept down and you get dressed and out the door. Believe me I would rather still be sleeping a bit longer. Up and out the door, head feeling foggy and someone telling my feet to move. We make it back to the car and this feels anti-climatic after the tortuous bowel prep that Satan must have invented. My belly is rumbling, flatulence is rolling and I am ready for my bed. What the heck did I just go through? Thank goodness no videos of me, no silly post anesthesia dialogue. Boy do I feel like a whimp. All the worry and dread and well it is over wham, bam, poop ma-am.
But honestly some serious thoughts here. Even though I didn’t want to do this and dreaded it with all that I am, it is important to do things that take care of our health. Not only with screening tests but what we do for our health everyday. What we eat and how we move. How we take care of all of our parts as well as our hearts and mental well-being. I have a handful of good friends who checked on me, my mom being patient with me. It could have been worse findings and hopefully all the pathology comes back benign. Then the other thought I had when I was hungry was this was a self-imposed hunger. There are people who are hungry everyday and don’t have a wide assortment of foods to choose from. Some choose to fast for spiritual and physical wellbeing, some fast as they don’t have the food available. So, for all my whining and silliness and oversharing, I am blessed. Blessed to be able to take care of myself, able to eat again and have food to eat. Thankful for those who love me and sorry for those who don’t care for me or love me like they should. I am beyond thankful that the prep is behind me, literally and figuratively!! So if you are due this test, go get it done. I will be a cheerleader and give you helpful hints. Ladies get your mammograms and pap smears, men get those prostates checked. Take care of yourselves because you are important to someone. More impprtant than you may know. And now that I am back in my safe haven of my home, able to let the gas fly, and able to eat a little snack, life is good and 3 years is far enough for me right now!