Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Journey to the Center of the Colon

A few weeks ago, at the suggestion of my GP, I underwent a colonoscopy about seven years ahead of schedule. Since my doctor stated I had a "pronounced genetic predisposition" to potentially have colon cancer myself (thanks to it running in my family), I contacted my insurance to make sure it was covered, and then went ahead and scheduled my Very Special Camera Time.

Since a number of my friends are younger that I am (jerks), I felt it beneficial to comedically document via words and not images what they, too, can expect once they cross the 50 year age threshold and have to enjoy the same uplifting procedure I did.

So, let's try and laugh our butts off, shall we?


9:00 am - The instructions say I am to cut out vegetables and fruit. Basically, I'm supposed to eat like my five year old. Awesome. I can do this.

11:17 am - Why on earth I keep seeing commercials for Strawberry Poppyseed Salads is beyond me. And just cruel.


6:00 am - Thus begins my "clear liquid" diet. No meat, no dairy, nothing but broth, gelatin, and popsicles. I can do this.

They allow coffee. Black coffee. Thankfully. Otherwise I'd have to be seen for my blood pressure as well as my colon.

I asked about domestic beer. It's pretty translucent. However, the AMA and I have a difference of opinion on it being classified as a clear liquid though. My fellow craft beer enthusiasts would stand with me on this.

9:14 am - Is it physically possible to eat one's own body weight in flavored gelatin? I'm pretty sure I'm about to find out. 

11:30 am - Lunch is water and a popsicle. My one year old is looking at me like I've gone mad. Not because I'm eating dessert and no lunch, but because I have nothings discernible as food in front of me. This is a heresy in his eyes. 

5:00 pm - Time to start the MoviPrep (WORST NAME EVER).

5:01 pm - Hunh. For everyone who said this was the worst thing they've ever tasted, they've obviously never been to a homebrew competition. Tastes like warm, salty lemonade. Not something I'd drink voluntarily, but I don't see what the big deal is.

5:22 pm - Please kill me. I now see what the big deal is.

8:04 pm - I may have sped-read through Kai's bedtime story tonight. And wiggled a bit more than normal.

11:17 pm - Liquified hell. My body and soul are now completely emptied.

11:18 pm - ...or so I thought...


7:00 am - My last chance to drink coffee (because a diarrhetic is REALLY what I need right about now) and have a popsicle.

8:48 am - Make note to self to purchase stock in all manufacturers of toilet paper.

12:00 pm - Time to go in for the procedure. I had to get Ashley to take the afternoon off, since they say I can't drive home on my own. Pfft. I've survived Brewvival. What's the worst thing an anesthetic can do to me?

1:30 pm - They finally wheel me back. After waiting for an hour and a half. I've had an IV in my hand keeping me filled with fluid, and I had to get undressed behind an ugly printed sheet suspended on a metal pole. Worst of all, I could't  have my phone with me. Some crap about privacy issues and the like. Hard to have privacy when everyone's privates are only one paper-thin sheet away. Was going to "Live Tweet" my colonoscopy. Can't let Kaite Couric win all the battles.

2:00 pm - My anesthesiologist looks like Bellatrix Lestrange. I'm slightly concerned.

3:00 pm (or thereabouts) - I'm awake. Ish. After the procedure, they wheeled me back to the holding area with beautiful sheet walls. Because I haven't had enough happy memories in this place.

Apparently in addition to a colonoscopy, they spliced in some genetic materials to make me part Slitheen. (If you're a Doctor Who fan, you'll understand.) 

I'm surprisingly awake and alert (according to Ashley, who was secretly hoping I would emerge in some drugged stupor declaring myself the King of the Potato People or something). No polyps. Perfect colon (as far as such things are measured).

4:00 pm - At Five Guys. Ordered a bacon double cheeseburger. May get another one.

For as after-the-fact humorous as my nerves were about the procedure (minus the MoviPrep - again: WORST NAME EVER), I was genuinely concerned about what might be found. Cancer is something to not be taken lightly or to be lived in with ignorance. Get yourself and your loved ones checked out.

You get enjoy more bacon double cheeseburgers that way.   

Because you'll get to enjoy them with family and friends. 

1 comment:

Katie Axelson said...

Ok, I love the "laugh our butts off" line... so perfect!

And I'm glad you're a perfect ass-hole. ;)
(That's what my dad said after his colonoscopy; can't claim it as my own).