First colonoscopy
First public post in years. I want this memorialized, of all things.
A couple of months ago, while hospitalized for internal bleeding caused by a nicked abdominal wall during a kidney biopsy, the Emergency Room found a tiny spot on my pancreas. A 1 cm low attenuation lesion. Being the kind of person who manages to get All The Health Issues while somehow also always dodging the worst of it (death, disfigurement, and permanent maiming, at least), I was concerned, but not panicked. After all, I have Health Insurance now. Surely we can take care of this in a civilized fashion.
Enter the new round of specialists, whom lately include a a Hematologist and a Gastroenterologist, both of whom want to do a colonoscopy. Why a colonoscopy? I haven't a clue. I'm not a doctor, and despite having spent what feels like most of the last 6 years in doctors offices, I still haven't got a clue of how all the bodily systems are connected and how they affect each other.
But okay. The doctors say I need a camera up my ass. They know more than I do, so camera up the ass it is. The next morning, I get a call from a nurse explaining the procedure. Eat light and low fiber the day or two leading up to two days before the procedure, take the laxative the day before the procedure, and fast the day you are taking that laxative.
That seemed simple enough. Sure, I'd be hungry and shitting but I had E.Coli a couple of months ago (while hospitalized for the internal bleeding, because of course it happened then). I got this in the bag. No problemo. I start looking up online about how to best prepare for a colonoscopy.
Did you know your colon looks like the inside of a textured Fleshlight? I didn't. It is ridged, full of places for shit and food to hang up on and get caught on. And did you know that makes it really difficult to see what's going on up there? And in order to see the ribbed-for-no-one's-pleasure tube that is your intestines, they need to clear you out? It makes sense now that I think about it, but it came as a surprise to me when I found this out.
And boy howdy, HOW they need to clean you out. They don't just need you to have a good couple of days on the shitter. They need you to be absolutely, completely empty. Emptier than the dishwasher you forgot to unload last night. Emptier than the Sahara during a drought in July. Emptier than your goddamn dreams.
Enter the colonoscopy prep.
Apparently there are several ways of doing this, but because life isn't fun unless you're getting tortured for the sake of your health, I wound up with the good ole standy: A literal gallon of laxatives.Yes, that's right folks, an actual, real-life sized GALLON of laxatives, of which I had to drink in less than 12 hours, lest I have to repeat this insanity. If my colon isn't clean enough to be Instagram worthy, it's yet another day of starving and yet another gallon drink.
Let's talk about the drink. This was the hardest part of the prep for me.
Mine came in an empty jug filled with powder. Mix with water to the gallon line, give it a shake, and viola - instant laxatives. What a neat invention, I thought. Filled it, mixed it, and dipped a tentative finger in it to taste it. Reddit was right - it didn't taste good, but it didn't taste as bad as I thought it would. I'd expected it to be more viscous, like cough syrup. Instead it was more like flat, salty Gatorade. Not so bad, I thought. Poured some Crystal light lemon flavor into it (Reddit had some good suggestions), stuck in the fridge as it's said to be easier to get down cold, and waited until it was time to start.
Now, one full gallon of it later, all I can wonder is what madman created the flavor profile for this drink, and why they have such a deep and burning hatred for humanity. While the first quarter of the gallon went down without issue, it soon became a test of endurance. I held my nose for every swallow of that gallon. I chased every chug with a rinse and spit of Ginger Ale. I began to wonder if I would ever be able to taste lemon flavored anything without a Pavlovian response of holding perfectly still to keep my stomach from re-enacting the eruption of Mt Vesuvius. I marveled at the food industry that spends billions perfecting the most addictive flavors for the masses, and wept at the thought that medicine and Mountain Dew would never meet and make this stuff palatable.
I'd thought, earlier in the day, that I might get hungry. Going 24 hours without food - a bit more, really, once you factor in the previous night's sleep - always makes me feel a little sick. Turns out hunger was the least of my issues, as the onslaught of 8 ounces of fluids every 20 minutes FOR HOURS AT A TIME would keep me plenty, nauseatingly full.
I'm not gonna lie. I did puke some of it back up. If you're at all sensitive to tastes, just accept that you're going to throw up a little. Sure as you will shit, you'll probably upchuck a few times, too. Stand over a sink while you're drinking the laxative, it will make cleanup easier. The good news - if there ever is good news about vomiting - is that it will all be liquid. No retch, no painful forcing of solids up. Just you and what will feel like half of the Pacific Ocean sloshing against your teeth.
And now for the part everyone wants to know most before they start their prep: Just how much and how long am I going to be shitting for? Will I be able to make it to the toilet before coating my carpet in the most disgusting Jackson Pollock impression imaginable?
Certainly this was the part of the prep I was dreading the most. Scores of comedians and internet posts across the net warned me that I should plan on being glued to the toilet for a full 12 hours. Bring a book. Bring your laptop. Set up a PS5. Blankets, pillows, space heaters. If you can manage to haul in that 1978 Ford Mustang that's been rusting in your front yard since the mid 90's and tinker with it while on the toilet, the better, because son, you're going to be in there for a LONG time.
I was also sincerely concerned about the force and pain of which I'd be expelling my innards. Not realizing that comedians exaggerate for comedic effect, I'd expected to be begging for handlebars on the toilet. I expected to have to tie myself down to the seat, lest I rocket a foot off the seat with the force of my shitting. And the CRAMPING, I expected to spend the majority of those 12 hours doubled or tripled over in the fetal position from stomach cramping. I've only gotten diarrhea was I was sick, so of course the only way I figure this diarrhea would work is by feeling the same level of sick.
I mean, there was no way you could do something as unnatural as drinking an entire gallon's worth of laxatives and it wouldn't hurt, right?
Most embarrassingly enough, I was so concerned about not making it to the toilet that I bought adult diapers. I figured that while it would be embarrassing to wear them, it would be far less embarrassing than coating the inside of the only pair of pajamas I have with uncontrollable filth. (Cat hair is the only filth I will accept on my clothes, thank you very much.)
By the way, do NOT do an internet search for the best adult diapers to wear for a colonoscopy prep. That way lies madness, and a very, VERY unwilling foray into the world of adult baby furs. Did I ever want to read about how many adults enjoy dressing up as an anthropomorphic dog and wearing diapers in public? No. Did my eyes land on many, many posts about such a thing? Yes. Never have I cursed my literacy more than that fateful day. NEVER.
And so the day came. Armed with both the cursed knowledge of a fetish I never wanted to know existed, and subreddit r/colonoscopy (which is a shockingly active community, considering the subject matter), I began prep. I was ready. I was going to GET THROUGH THIS.
I was going to suffer.
This...turned out to be a gross exaggeration on the internet's part. At least, thankfully, for me.
I'm not sure if it was the light eating and low fiber diet I'd done the couple of days previous to the prep, but I'd say I spent less than a full hour and a half in the bathroom over the course of the 16 hour prep. Eliminations were spaced out far enough that despite setting up a tv tray in the bathroom to set the laptop on (Scrubs marathon, here we go! Or so I thought.), I never needed to move my laptop off my desk. I was in and out in minutes, if not a handful of a seconds, every time.
There was no force to my shitting whatsoever. There was no cramping whatsoever. It was, in fact, very very liquid-y and very EASY. When people describe it as 'pissing out of your ass', they are not kidding. It is EXACTLY that level of fluidity, but it absolutely was not the firehose I was expecting. There was no 'oh shit, I won't make it to the toilet' moment. There was ample warning every time. I even had time to go out for a cigarette every hour, just like I normally do. I'd expected to be the human version of the cannon that shot out Evel Knievel, with my ass blowing me halfway across the bathroom, but it was not like that at all.
It was absolutely NOTHING like that. In the end, as with many medical things, it turned out to be a big Much Ado About Nothing. (Sorry, Shakespeare. I know it's rude to compare you to a colonoscopy. But it just fits so perfectly.) In the end, I arrived at the hospital, they gave me the night-night drugs, and an hour and a half later I was on my way home, devouring onion rings from Burger King.
The results from the procedure are pretty boring - they found two cysts on my pancreas, but we already knew that. They are planning on doing a pancreas biopsy to check those out. It turns out I have something called a tortuous colon, which is a medical term for 'your shit-tube is extra twisty-turny and may cause more discomfort than for the average person', but judging from the digestive issues I've had my whole life, I kinda already knew that one, too.
I am INEXPLICABLY and INORDINATELY proud of my bowel prep evaluation, which was a 9 - the clearest and highest score one can get for doing a bowel prep. It's like getting an A+ from your doctor, except you're asleep and he doesn't actually congratulate you. Still, if the goal was to get my colon clean enough to be Instagram worthy, then by god, set my actual ass up for an account and get me some followers, cuz damn, I did it.
I'm so thankful the internet exists. It was not the procedure that frightened me. In fact, I figured if something went wrong or I died under anesthesia, that would be winning combo. Not that I WANT to die, only that if you have to die during a procedure, being 100% unaware of it sounds like a good way to go. It was the prep itself that concerned me, which just sounded so. damn. miserable. But thanks to the internet, I was able to prepare. Over prepare, even.
All that said, if you're like me, and want to be ready, here are some tips and tricks.
1) Buy baby wipes and dab, don't wipe. Do this from the very first shit. Don't even THINK about using toilet paper. Your poor butthole will be crying for mercy a few hours in if you do so, and you will wonder if it's possible to die a death from a thousand rectal paper cuts. Also keep a tub of Vaseline near the baby wipes, and use that to put on your butthole when it starts to get sore. (It will, but if you dab gently enough, it won't happen till near the end.)
2) Don't worry about being hungry. This worried me initially, but you're going to be too busy and too full of fluid to be that hungry.
3) Buy adult diapers for your own peace of mind if you think you'll need them. Yes, it feels mortifying, but if it makes you feel better during what is going to be an unpleasant time, it's always better to have it on hand than not. You probably won't need it (It turns out I didn't), but if you do, try not to be embarrassed. These are medical items, they exist for a reason, and you are not wrong to use them if you need them.
4) Ginger ale and/or cream soda (if you like that) is a godsend to getting that drink down. Hold your nose with every swallow - most of our taste is activated by smell, and trust me, the less of this piss you have to taste, the better. Some folks swear by a big chug after every sip of the laxative, but I found a rinse and spit to be more effective. (You're just drinking so much fluid, the idea of chugging half a soda can after every 8 ounces of laxatives was just too much for me.)
5) You are probably going to get very cold during your prep, so wear a robe/sweater/some kind of top garment that won't get in the way of pulling down your pants. If you're drinking the prep laxative cold (which is EXTREMELY recommended, PUT THAT SHIT IN THE FRIDGE THE DAY BEFORE), you'll be pouring liters of cold fluids into your body, which is going to make you cold. You'll also likely be dehydrated a bit, which will make you colder. Be prepared for it and stay as warm as you can. It will make the experience less miserable.
6) Try to get some calories in for the day, be it bone broth, jello (in the approved dye colors), or in my case, a few cans of ginger ale. You're not looking for healthy calories that day, you're just looking getting in ANY calories, from any clear, doctor-approved source. If all you can manage is a couple cans of soda in between Satan's Swill, that will be fine.
7) And most of all, don't psych yourself out. I did, and wound up laughing the next day at how ridiculous I was to be so worked up. Absolutely nothing about this was near as difficult as I'd thought it would be, and for that, I'm so grateful.
Except for that damn laxative drink. Surely that is what Satan serves during cocktail hour in Hell.
A couple of months ago, while hospitalized for internal bleeding caused by a nicked abdominal wall during a kidney biopsy, the Emergency Room found a tiny spot on my pancreas. A 1 cm low attenuation lesion. Being the kind of person who manages to get All The Health Issues while somehow also always dodging the worst of it (death, disfigurement, and permanent maiming, at least), I was concerned, but not panicked. After all, I have Health Insurance now. Surely we can take care of this in a civilized fashion.
Enter the new round of specialists, whom lately include a a Hematologist and a Gastroenterologist, both of whom want to do a colonoscopy. Why a colonoscopy? I haven't a clue. I'm not a doctor, and despite having spent what feels like most of the last 6 years in doctors offices, I still haven't got a clue of how all the bodily systems are connected and how they affect each other.
But okay. The doctors say I need a camera up my ass. They know more than I do, so camera up the ass it is. The next morning, I get a call from a nurse explaining the procedure. Eat light and low fiber the day or two leading up to two days before the procedure, take the laxative the day before the procedure, and fast the day you are taking that laxative.
That seemed simple enough. Sure, I'd be hungry and shitting but I had E.Coli a couple of months ago (while hospitalized for the internal bleeding, because of course it happened then). I got this in the bag. No problemo. I start looking up online about how to best prepare for a colonoscopy.
Did you know your colon looks like the inside of a textured Fleshlight? I didn't. It is ridged, full of places for shit and food to hang up on and get caught on. And did you know that makes it really difficult to see what's going on up there? And in order to see the ribbed-for-no-one's-pleasure tube that is your intestines, they need to clear you out? It makes sense now that I think about it, but it came as a surprise to me when I found this out.
And boy howdy, HOW they need to clean you out. They don't just need you to have a good couple of days on the shitter. They need you to be absolutely, completely empty. Emptier than the dishwasher you forgot to unload last night. Emptier than the Sahara during a drought in July. Emptier than your goddamn dreams.
Enter the colonoscopy prep.
Apparently there are several ways of doing this, but because life isn't fun unless you're getting tortured for the sake of your health, I wound up with the good ole standy: A literal gallon of laxatives.Yes, that's right folks, an actual, real-life sized GALLON of laxatives, of which I had to drink in less than 12 hours, lest I have to repeat this insanity. If my colon isn't clean enough to be Instagram worthy, it's yet another day of starving and yet another gallon drink.
Let's talk about the drink. This was the hardest part of the prep for me.
Mine came in an empty jug filled with powder. Mix with water to the gallon line, give it a shake, and viola - instant laxatives. What a neat invention, I thought. Filled it, mixed it, and dipped a tentative finger in it to taste it. Reddit was right - it didn't taste good, but it didn't taste as bad as I thought it would. I'd expected it to be more viscous, like cough syrup. Instead it was more like flat, salty Gatorade. Not so bad, I thought. Poured some Crystal light lemon flavor into it (Reddit had some good suggestions), stuck in the fridge as it's said to be easier to get down cold, and waited until it was time to start.
Now, one full gallon of it later, all I can wonder is what madman created the flavor profile for this drink, and why they have such a deep and burning hatred for humanity. While the first quarter of the gallon went down without issue, it soon became a test of endurance. I held my nose for every swallow of that gallon. I chased every chug with a rinse and spit of Ginger Ale. I began to wonder if I would ever be able to taste lemon flavored anything without a Pavlovian response of holding perfectly still to keep my stomach from re-enacting the eruption of Mt Vesuvius. I marveled at the food industry that spends billions perfecting the most addictive flavors for the masses, and wept at the thought that medicine and Mountain Dew would never meet and make this stuff palatable.
I'd thought, earlier in the day, that I might get hungry. Going 24 hours without food - a bit more, really, once you factor in the previous night's sleep - always makes me feel a little sick. Turns out hunger was the least of my issues, as the onslaught of 8 ounces of fluids every 20 minutes FOR HOURS AT A TIME would keep me plenty, nauseatingly full.
I'm not gonna lie. I did puke some of it back up. If you're at all sensitive to tastes, just accept that you're going to throw up a little. Sure as you will shit, you'll probably upchuck a few times, too. Stand over a sink while you're drinking the laxative, it will make cleanup easier. The good news - if there ever is good news about vomiting - is that it will all be liquid. No retch, no painful forcing of solids up. Just you and what will feel like half of the Pacific Ocean sloshing against your teeth.
And now for the part everyone wants to know most before they start their prep: Just how much and how long am I going to be shitting for? Will I be able to make it to the toilet before coating my carpet in the most disgusting Jackson Pollock impression imaginable?
Certainly this was the part of the prep I was dreading the most. Scores of comedians and internet posts across the net warned me that I should plan on being glued to the toilet for a full 12 hours. Bring a book. Bring your laptop. Set up a PS5. Blankets, pillows, space heaters. If you can manage to haul in that 1978 Ford Mustang that's been rusting in your front yard since the mid 90's and tinker with it while on the toilet, the better, because son, you're going to be in there for a LONG time.
I was also sincerely concerned about the force and pain of which I'd be expelling my innards. Not realizing that comedians exaggerate for comedic effect, I'd expected to be begging for handlebars on the toilet. I expected to have to tie myself down to the seat, lest I rocket a foot off the seat with the force of my shitting. And the CRAMPING, I expected to spend the majority of those 12 hours doubled or tripled over in the fetal position from stomach cramping. I've only gotten diarrhea was I was sick, so of course the only way I figure this diarrhea would work is by feeling the same level of sick.
I mean, there was no way you could do something as unnatural as drinking an entire gallon's worth of laxatives and it wouldn't hurt, right?
Most embarrassingly enough, I was so concerned about not making it to the toilet that I bought adult diapers. I figured that while it would be embarrassing to wear them, it would be far less embarrassing than coating the inside of the only pair of pajamas I have with uncontrollable filth. (Cat hair is the only filth I will accept on my clothes, thank you very much.)
By the way, do NOT do an internet search for the best adult diapers to wear for a colonoscopy prep. That way lies madness, and a very, VERY unwilling foray into the world of adult baby furs. Did I ever want to read about how many adults enjoy dressing up as an anthropomorphic dog and wearing diapers in public? No. Did my eyes land on many, many posts about such a thing? Yes. Never have I cursed my literacy more than that fateful day. NEVER.
And so the day came. Armed with both the cursed knowledge of a fetish I never wanted to know existed, and subreddit r/colonoscopy (which is a shockingly active community, considering the subject matter), I began prep. I was ready. I was going to GET THROUGH THIS.
I was going to suffer.
This...turned out to be a gross exaggeration on the internet's part. At least, thankfully, for me.
I'm not sure if it was the light eating and low fiber diet I'd done the couple of days previous to the prep, but I'd say I spent less than a full hour and a half in the bathroom over the course of the 16 hour prep. Eliminations were spaced out far enough that despite setting up a tv tray in the bathroom to set the laptop on (Scrubs marathon, here we go! Or so I thought.), I never needed to move my laptop off my desk. I was in and out in minutes, if not a handful of a seconds, every time.
There was no force to my shitting whatsoever. There was no cramping whatsoever. It was, in fact, very very liquid-y and very EASY. When people describe it as 'pissing out of your ass', they are not kidding. It is EXACTLY that level of fluidity, but it absolutely was not the firehose I was expecting. There was no 'oh shit, I won't make it to the toilet' moment. There was ample warning every time. I even had time to go out for a cigarette every hour, just like I normally do. I'd expected to be the human version of the cannon that shot out Evel Knievel, with my ass blowing me halfway across the bathroom, but it was not like that at all.
It was absolutely NOTHING like that. In the end, as with many medical things, it turned out to be a big Much Ado About Nothing. (Sorry, Shakespeare. I know it's rude to compare you to a colonoscopy. But it just fits so perfectly.) In the end, I arrived at the hospital, they gave me the night-night drugs, and an hour and a half later I was on my way home, devouring onion rings from Burger King.
The results from the procedure are pretty boring - they found two cysts on my pancreas, but we already knew that. They are planning on doing a pancreas biopsy to check those out. It turns out I have something called a tortuous colon, which is a medical term for 'your shit-tube is extra twisty-turny and may cause more discomfort than for the average person', but judging from the digestive issues I've had my whole life, I kinda already knew that one, too.
I am INEXPLICABLY and INORDINATELY proud of my bowel prep evaluation, which was a 9 - the clearest and highest score one can get for doing a bowel prep. It's like getting an A+ from your doctor, except you're asleep and he doesn't actually congratulate you. Still, if the goal was to get my colon clean enough to be Instagram worthy, then by god, set my actual ass up for an account and get me some followers, cuz damn, I did it.
I'm so thankful the internet exists. It was not the procedure that frightened me. In fact, I figured if something went wrong or I died under anesthesia, that would be winning combo. Not that I WANT to die, only that if you have to die during a procedure, being 100% unaware of it sounds like a good way to go. It was the prep itself that concerned me, which just sounded so. damn. miserable. But thanks to the internet, I was able to prepare. Over prepare, even.
All that said, if you're like me, and want to be ready, here are some tips and tricks.
1) Buy baby wipes and dab, don't wipe. Do this from the very first shit. Don't even THINK about using toilet paper. Your poor butthole will be crying for mercy a few hours in if you do so, and you will wonder if it's possible to die a death from a thousand rectal paper cuts. Also keep a tub of Vaseline near the baby wipes, and use that to put on your butthole when it starts to get sore. (It will, but if you dab gently enough, it won't happen till near the end.)
2) Don't worry about being hungry. This worried me initially, but you're going to be too busy and too full of fluid to be that hungry.
3) Buy adult diapers for your own peace of mind if you think you'll need them. Yes, it feels mortifying, but if it makes you feel better during what is going to be an unpleasant time, it's always better to have it on hand than not. You probably won't need it (It turns out I didn't), but if you do, try not to be embarrassed. These are medical items, they exist for a reason, and you are not wrong to use them if you need them.
4) Ginger ale and/or cream soda (if you like that) is a godsend to getting that drink down. Hold your nose with every swallow - most of our taste is activated by smell, and trust me, the less of this piss you have to taste, the better. Some folks swear by a big chug after every sip of the laxative, but I found a rinse and spit to be more effective. (You're just drinking so much fluid, the idea of chugging half a soda can after every 8 ounces of laxatives was just too much for me.)
5) You are probably going to get very cold during your prep, so wear a robe/sweater/some kind of top garment that won't get in the way of pulling down your pants. If you're drinking the prep laxative cold (which is EXTREMELY recommended, PUT THAT SHIT IN THE FRIDGE THE DAY BEFORE), you'll be pouring liters of cold fluids into your body, which is going to make you cold. You'll also likely be dehydrated a bit, which will make you colder. Be prepared for it and stay as warm as you can. It will make the experience less miserable.
6) Try to get some calories in for the day, be it bone broth, jello (in the approved dye colors), or in my case, a few cans of ginger ale. You're not looking for healthy calories that day, you're just looking getting in ANY calories, from any clear, doctor-approved source. If all you can manage is a couple cans of soda in between Satan's Swill, that will be fine.
7) And most of all, don't psych yourself out. I did, and wound up laughing the next day at how ridiculous I was to be so worked up. Absolutely nothing about this was near as difficult as I'd thought it would be, and for that, I'm so grateful.
Except for that damn laxative drink. Surely that is what Satan serves during cocktail hour in Hell.