Colonoscopy or Things You Didn’t Want to Know About Me

A couple of weeks back, I got the privilege of undergoing a colonoscopy. This provided a lot of discomfort and a good excuse to write about something other than books. I’ll try to keep the blog family friendly, but in this case, there is a certain challenge.

The Preparation

After a day of clear liquids (water, chicken broth, jello and banana popsicles), the true fun set in after work.

At 5:00 the night before, I got to drink a small bottle of a liquid that I would describe as tasting like equal mixtures of battery acid, Sprite, and horse urine. Granted, I’ve never drank battery acid or horse urine. I’ve never been run over by a bus either, but I know it hurts. So anyway, I drank my little bottle. Although getting run over by the bus might be better.

I settled in to watch the NCAA tournament, not realizing that in fact I would be watching short bursts of the NCAA tournament.

At 7:00, I began drinking 64 ounces of Gatorade, cut with 14 days worth of laxative. Yes, two weeks. I called the nurse to confirm that they weren’t trying to kill me. She chuckled and admitted “Yeah, it is a lot.” Yeah, it is. I drank this mixture in 8 ounce doses at 20 minute intervals. It really didn’t taste as bad as it should. Basically, kind of like, well, Gatorade cut with chalk. Could’ve been worse.

What couldn’t have been worse was the atomic fallout that occurred. Fellow colonoscopy suffers told me “You will go a lot.” But how much is a lot? Three times? Five? So I kept a record. I had a pen and wrote down notes on every visit to the bathroom. I also included descriptive commentary of each movement, but as I say, family style blog here.

I can tell you that I went either twelve or thirteen times (and if you’re unsure how I’m unsure of exactly how many times, well, you haven’t had a colonoscopy) in a span of five hours and ten minutes. That averages out to once every 23-25 minutes, if you’re keeping score at home. By about halfway through this blessed preparation, I thought I might be the first person ever to be undergoing a rectal exorcism. If so, the spirit of my colon is definitely holy now.

The procedure itself was very much anti-climatic. I woke up asking the same questions multiple times. I also had a great need to dispel massive amounts of air from my insides. If you’ve seen the commerical where the little boy grabs a jar of wind and brings it home to his grandfather, and it blows out the candles on his birthday cake, think of that commercial. Instead of a jar, I had guts, and instead of blowing out the candles on the cake, I could’ve blown grandfather into an adjoining county, where he could live the remainder of his short life with a perpetually dazed expression on his face.

So there you are. I apologize for the gross out factor, and I recognize that just about anybody who read this probably really didn’t want to read it. But what are blogs for, if not writing about horrific things and forcing other people to read them?




2 Responses to “Colonoscopy or Things You Didn’t Want to Know About Me”

  1. Amy Hilliard Says:

    LOL! Stop already! I work in a library!

  2. Ricky Says:

    I just want to say I, for one, enjoyed every semi-graphic scatological detail.

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