There has never been anything that has instilled such intense fear in me than the time leading up to my first colonoscopy. I could not wrap my head around the fact that there was going to be a camera shoved up my arse, for approximately a mile, while I was only sedated.
It didn’t matter how many people told me, it was really nothing, and that, I wouldn’t feel it, I was simply overwhelmed with panic.
As the days grew closer I was thinking of drastic measures to cancel or delay the procedure… forever… giving way to visions of myself accidently driving the truck off the road into a ditch on the way to my appointment or seeking out a friend whose baby was projectile vomiting with the flue because adults always catch that shit.
I knew, however, that I was not going to get out of it. The day before, as I was preparing to take the pre-procedure, poison-powder mixture, for “expelling” anything that might be lingering in the colon, I called the Dr.’s office to confirm that I would be showing up.
I was greeted by an odd recorded message.
“The office is closed and will not reopen at this time.”
I was really confused. Later that day I watched the news in complete disbelief to hear that the Dr. who was to perform the dreaded deed had been found MURDERED!!
Now, this is going to sound horrible, but, I actually felt complete and total relief … followed by a horrible sense of guilt thinking that maybe I’d, unknowingly, made a deal with the devil when I had prayed for something……ANYTHING …. to stop my having to go to the clinic that day, which lead to a pang of fear, thinking I could actually become a suspect in the slaying.
This is how my insane mind works. My usually lazy and dormant ego kicks in when something horrible happens and that voice in my head says, “You made this happen.”
Unfortunately, even murder, was not enough for me to avoid having my colonoscopy.
My appointment was rescheduled and, this time, instead of a half hour drive to the clinic, I would have a two-hour drive. I decided that, I would no longer use my strong psychic powers to de-rail things, given what happened to the last Dr. When the time arrived, I drank the horrible concoctions the night before and spent a few hours in “my office”. I had thought about driving into the city a day early and staying with friends, so I would be close to the clinic, but who would do that?? I had to be in my own home sweating and pooping.
When we were babies pooping our pants gave us an immense sense of pleasure. I remember cradling my nephew in my arms and saying to my sister, “Oh look he’s smiling at me!” And she responded, stone faced, “He’s pooping.”
As adults we have all had the horrible “shart attack” and it is the most humiliating , embarrassing and awful moment. My friend, Julia, told me her father used to say, “I just squitted.” That made me laugh out loud. The complete surprise at what you have done, combined with the task of hiding the paint ball splatter on your bum, as you dash into the nearest washroom is the worst. Anyway, for me, it has happened in Mexico, Cambodia, Cuba and Greece. The unpurified water is a killer. Maybe I’ve had more incidents than the average person but, what can I say, I like to travel and I’m too trusting.
On my two hour drive the following day to my appointment I was clenching… the whole time… I had not anticipated the likely hood of an accident prior to my arrival. It was mortifying.
With the two hour drive, I had to leave earlier than most so it made sense that my body might not be ready.
Next time I will bring along an emergency change of clothes.
Once I arrived they whisked me in right away. That was such a relief because I was starving, , terrified, and a bit cranky.
OK, here is the good part. I told the nurses to give me the ultimate dose of sedative and they did.
I have no memory of anything other than waking up and letting a fart the length of the song “American Pie” and I am not kidding. I was taken into the recovery area and placed behind curtains where I proceeded to have “contests” with the other victims. I believe I was the winner.
My poor partner arrived early to pick me up, and was in the waiting room of the unholy stench.
He said he had never experienced anything like it and next time he will be waiting for me outside in the car.
I realise this post won’t be for everyone but, honestly, you will all have to experience this at some point in your life and I’m here to say, it’s really not bad at all.
I know… I know… you won’t believe me but I have another one coming up and the only thing I’m dreading is the night before because I won’t lie… that part sucks… but the actual colonoscopy is a piece of chocolate cake.
Party on readers!
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