This morning I had an upper GI and a colonoscopy. The hardest part was getting there at 7:15 am and waiting almost 2 hours before they even thought about the procedure.
Me nervous, hungry and tired in your waiting room without ample reading material is not a good thing.
For those of you who just read the word colonoscopy and are worried about what kind of gross things I will be discussing……don’t worry. I won’t go there. I don’t even like to pee if there is someone in the stall next to me, so I won’t be talking about any of the other goings on on that end. Except to mention that after last night, my colon is so clean that you could eat off it. I swear, I bet the doctor could see his little camera reflection in my colon…but really that’s it. I promise.
And for those of you wondering/worrying about why I had the colonoscopy, endoscopy and handful of biopsies in the first place. Don’t worry your pretty little head. All is fine. Except for a few matters that would fall into the paragraph above. Nothing a little immodium and some good sleep can’t fix. (except of course that I haven’t gotten good rest in years thanks to a cute little almost redhead baby girl of mine).
What I am going to go into is the prep. (what goes in, not so much what comes out). If I took a survey of grown ups, ( I am going to define a grown up as someone over the age of 50, because we all know that 31 is so not a grown up)……most of them have had their share of colonoscopies. My mom has. My dad has. My in-laws have. My neighbor has. The teacher across the hall has. Even a handful of non-grown ups I know have. Point being: people do this all the time. And survive.
As un-fun as a camera snaked up my behind sounds, everyone promised me that the “prep” was the worst part.
So far I had already been on a liquid diet for over 24 hours and drank a small bottle of magnesium citrate. I was starting to think the worst of it was behind me.
Until I picked up my gallon of un-goodness from the pharmacy. But really, how hard can drinking a gallon of cherry flavored stuff be?
Apparently pretty hard.
Because a few hours, and very bloated later I was crying after just wretching the contents of my 15th or so glass of not quite cherry flavored snotty nastiness into the sink.
I few times I even uttered the phrase, “I don’t think I can do this anymore”
The only thing that kept me drinking. And gagging. And drinking some more.
(It took me 4+ hours by the way and almost the entire gallon, which started to get especially thick and nasty at the bottom......because….. “shake well” apparently means you need a centrifuge to do properly).
Was fear that if I didn’t get my colon clean enough, I’d have to do it all over again.
And the fact that plenty other people have done it before without nearly this much complaining. Or crying. Or making their husband drink some (yes, I really did).
If you usually read my blog, you know that this is the part where I make some oh-so-wise spiritual correlation or life lesson or at least make a point.
And I could.
Something about how hard and painful it is to get clean on the inside, as opposed to the outside.
Or about sucking it up, because plenty of people don’t have health care at all…
Or even just the benefits of protobiotics or happy drugs that don’t let me remember any of the procedure.
But, I’m not feeling quite up to that. So me and my snuggie are going to sit here on the couch and “recover” (catch up on the sleep I did NOT get the last two nights because of paragragh 2). I did come to one pretty big realization though. And it is this. That I am a big fat wimp. And your 80 year old grandma who has a colonoscopy every year without whining is more of a man than me.
On the upside, ( because there always is)……I lost a few pounds and I have a good dozen or so pictures of my shiny pink colon that Owen wants to take to show and tell. ( No, I won’t let him……I don’t think…….although I just might show my biology class.)
Me nervous, hungry and tired in your waiting room without ample reading material is not a good thing.
For those of you who just read the word colonoscopy and are worried about what kind of gross things I will be discussing……don’t worry. I won’t go there. I don’t even like to pee if there is someone in the stall next to me, so I won’t be talking about any of the other goings on on that end. Except to mention that after last night, my colon is so clean that you could eat off it. I swear, I bet the doctor could see his little camera reflection in my colon…but really that’s it. I promise.
And for those of you wondering/worrying about why I had the colonoscopy, endoscopy and handful of biopsies in the first place. Don’t worry your pretty little head. All is fine. Except for a few matters that would fall into the paragraph above. Nothing a little immodium and some good sleep can’t fix. (except of course that I haven’t gotten good rest in years thanks to a cute little almost redhead baby girl of mine).
What I am going to go into is the prep. (what goes in, not so much what comes out). If I took a survey of grown ups, ( I am going to define a grown up as someone over the age of 50, because we all know that 31 is so not a grown up)……most of them have had their share of colonoscopies. My mom has. My dad has. My in-laws have. My neighbor has. The teacher across the hall has. Even a handful of non-grown ups I know have. Point being: people do this all the time. And survive.
As un-fun as a camera snaked up my behind sounds, everyone promised me that the “prep” was the worst part.
So far I had already been on a liquid diet for over 24 hours and drank a small bottle of magnesium citrate. I was starting to think the worst of it was behind me.
Until I picked up my gallon of un-goodness from the pharmacy. But really, how hard can drinking a gallon of cherry flavored stuff be?
Apparently pretty hard.
Because a few hours, and very bloated later I was crying after just wretching the contents of my 15th or so glass of not quite cherry flavored snotty nastiness into the sink.
I few times I even uttered the phrase, “I don’t think I can do this anymore”
The only thing that kept me drinking. And gagging. And drinking some more.
(It took me 4+ hours by the way and almost the entire gallon, which started to get especially thick and nasty at the bottom......because….. “shake well” apparently means you need a centrifuge to do properly).
Was fear that if I didn’t get my colon clean enough, I’d have to do it all over again.
And the fact that plenty other people have done it before without nearly this much complaining. Or crying. Or making their husband drink some (yes, I really did).
If you usually read my blog, you know that this is the part where I make some oh-so-wise spiritual correlation or life lesson or at least make a point.
And I could.
Something about how hard and painful it is to get clean on the inside, as opposed to the outside.
Or about sucking it up, because plenty of people don’t have health care at all…
Or even just the benefits of protobiotics or happy drugs that don’t let me remember any of the procedure.
But, I’m not feeling quite up to that. So me and my snuggie are going to sit here on the couch and “recover” (catch up on the sleep I did NOT get the last two nights because of paragragh 2). I did come to one pretty big realization though. And it is this. That I am a big fat wimp. And your 80 year old grandma who has a colonoscopy every year without whining is more of a man than me.
On the upside, ( because there always is)……I lost a few pounds and I have a good dozen or so pictures of my shiny pink colon that Owen wants to take to show and tell. ( No, I won’t let him……I don’t think…….although I just might show my biology class.)
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