03-15-2013   Leave a comment

I’m celebrating today because yesterday I received a letter from my doctor. Truthfully, it’s not the kind of letter I like receiving but it is what it is and unfortunately for me it’s colonoscopy time again. Before I go much further I like to throw out a huge thank you to my late mother Janet. It’s her medical history and genetic inheritance that requires me to have these procedures. Her history of colon cancer and cancerous polyps has placed me at the head of the line for frequent colonoscopies. Thanks a lot Mom.

It all started for me in 2004 when my new doctor at that time was reviewing my medical history and gave me the bad news that colonoscopies were about to become a huge part of my life. I had no knowledge of what colonoscopies were at that time but I was to find out rather quickly how much fun they weren’t.  As the first colonoscopy approached I was directed to pick up a “Colonoscopy Preparation Kit” at my doctors office. It contained a gallon of liquid and a couple of pouches of powder that were to be mixed together and consumed the night before the procedure. I actually laughed when he told me that I had to drink that entire gallon in one sitting (no pun intended). He also warned me not to wander too far from a bathroom which I failed to take all that seriously. Big gigantic mistake number one.

Being the obedient person that I am I followed his instructions to the letter and discovered very quickly that his warnings were not to be taken lightly. I was sitting quietly on my deck when I felt a rumble.  It felt like a very small earthquake tremor at first but immediately I realized I might be more than a few steps too far from the closest bathroom.  I became a cross between Mt. Vesuvius and a high pressure fire hose. I almost made to the bathroom but not quite.  Big gigantic mistake number two.

After a hour of sitting, then an hour of cleanup I was cleansed inside and out and ready to go. I was very nervous about the procedure but after receiving some really excellent drugs I was ready for anything. I remember vaguely my ass hanging out in the wind and a number of people back there talking and looking around.  The next thing I remember I was in the recovery room, a much more humble person to be sure.

The good news was that my first colonoscopy experience was over and the bad news was given to me later by the doctor. I’d be required to do this every three years for the rest of my effing life. I wasn’t thrilled about that fact but I understand how important these procedures are to extending my life.

Since that first experience I’ve had three additional colonoscopies and I hate to admit it but I think I’m getting used to them. The first one they knocked me out with drugs, the second one I took a lighter drug dose and was able to remain semi awake and able to listen to the doctors and nurses as they reamed me out. The third one I took an even smaller dose of drugs and was able to talk with the doctor while he was doing the procedure and they even brought in a small television so I could see exactly what the camera stuck up my butt was showing the doctor. I don’t think I’ll do that again because that was a little weird. It was like looking down a long pink and disgusting tunnel. That’s one TV show I think I’ll pass on the next time around. I’ll just stick to the good drugs, take a short nap, and deal with my sore butt later.

I should gladly note that these procedures failed to find any major problems for which I’m exceedingly grateful.  They’re actually a very efficient way for early detection and treatment of what could be a life threatening situation.  When your told for the first time that you need to have a colonoscopy, just smile, drink your laxatives, and enjoy the drugs.  It could save your life.

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