
Random art work unrelated to subject because the alternative was a photo of an actual human colon. You’re welcome.
It’s been a long morning for me, thanks to Lacie, the amazing alarm clock dog. The neighbours next door let her out in the early morning to do her business and she barks her fool little head off at….I don’t know….snowflakes, fence posts, air. I wonder why she can’t just go for a quiet pee like a normal dog and let me sleep. But this morning was better than yesterday morning, so I have forgiven her.
Today is a good day because it’s Friday, it’s snowing, and I have nowhere to go! And no gigantic four litre jug of vile laxative to consume! I’m going to tell you my colonoscopy story, so if you’d like to skip on to whatever you were going to do next, now’s your chance.
For the three of you who have decided to stick around because you love old people medical stories, here we go. I have a family history of bowel cancer, and a colonoscopy is something doctors have strongly advised me to have done to detect any potential problems. The day before the procedure is spent cleaning out the colon, eating nothing, drinking clear fluids, feeling sorry for yourself and staying close to the bathroom. Black coffee is allowed. Thank God for small mercies. For the last eight hours you can have nothing by mouth, not even water.
The first colonoscopy I had was done in 2003 and I was instructed to come back for another one in ten years. But because of my superior procrastination skills, I was able to stretch that to twelve. If the results are fine for this one, I may set a fifteen year goal for the next one.
The procedure was scheduled for 11:45 a.m. yesterday. I like to be insanely early for things and W likes to be a minimum of five minutes late. The morning started off with a dead battery in my car. This was all my fault for not driving it enough. And we could not take the truck because W was having way too much fun making a big production of recharging the battery and slicing a finger open in the process. This required much swearing and a bandaid. Then we took a long convoluted route to our destination, slowing down for green lights in the hope that they would turn red before we got to them. There is no parking at the hospital. Well, there is, but every parking lot is always full and we know this, but drive around through all of them just to make sure. There’s lots of parking spaces at the mall nearby, because it’s better to inconvenience sick people than to piss off shoppers.
W dropped me off at admitting 80 minutes instead of the required 90 minutes ahead of time so that I could check in and fill out a form and sit on my ass for a bit thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong and wondering if he would make it back from wherever he finally managed to park. I also thought a lot about food and being incredibly thirsty and how much my head was aching. Eventually I was taken to a prep room where I signed a consent form and donned one of those beautiful back-open hospital gowns I’m so fond of. The nurse told me to leave my socks on, because just the gown by itself isn’t funny enough. Then they inserted the IV paraphernalia and told me to lie down and wait. W had shown up and taken off and come back again while I studied the ceiling tiles. He told me he went to the hospital cafeteria for soup and a sandwich. I was going to say “I hate you” but I didn’t because, although that is a perfectly acceptable thing to say when you’re in labour, in this case I was faint from hunger and simply didn’t have the energy.
The procedure itself took about fifteen minutes. The IV is for sedation. They don’t like to give you too much because it’s a busy place and no one wants you hanging around too long afterwards waking up. So I was sort of aware of what was going on. Trust me when I say passing out completely would have been my preferred option. I was then wheeled to a recovery area where I studied some different ceiling tiles until they removed the tubes and tape and let me get dressed. Then the doctor popped by to tell me it all went well and although there were a couple of polyps discovered, he wasn’t anticipating they were anything to worry about.
Because you are not allowed to leave on your own, the nurse pointed across the room at W and asked me if that was my ride. Normally this would not be a funny thing to say, but when you’re coming out of sedation all bets are off. I imagined introducing him to strangers as “my ride” and thinking that was the most freaking hilarious thing I’d ever heard. She quickly told me I was free to go.
On the way home “my ride” stopped at Swiss Chalet and watched me eat a huge plate of chicken and ribs and sweet potato fries, washed down with two cups of coffee and three glasses of water. Then of course I felt sick, but also happy. It’s hard to explain.
And here you thought nothing interesting or exciting ever happened in my life as a retired person who never starts her car. I am so glad that today is another day exactly like that. Even Lacie the yappy wonder dog can’t ruin it.
“Then of course I felt sick, but also happy. It’s hard to explain.”
What’s to explain? I understand perfectly. Thanks for sharing. Seriously.
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You’re welcome. I hope it was vaguely educational. 😄
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Absolutely. This piece should be issued to everyone who is prescribed the procedure. Forewarned is forearmed. And, as they say, laughter is the best medicine.
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That was the most awful surgery prep I ever experienced to get a polyp removed. Medical int eh Free Market will consider human comfort much more for any procedure. I pay.
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I agree, the prep is pretty awful. Apple juice started to taste like a gourmet meal.
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Colonoscopies are not pleasant….actually, the process before the procedure is worse than the test itself. Every five years…..no waiting for ten or fifteen. Glad yours went well. The best part of the whole experience is chewing down afterwards. What you had sounded a whole lot better than soup and a sandwich. I bet the wait was worth it……..:)
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Yep, this process gives you a huge appreciation for solid food. On my way to admitting a lady pointed me in the right direction and told me she has one of those done every year! Yikes.
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This was a hilarious story. My colonoscopy — several years ago– I was awake for the whole thing. Something about not wanting to put me totally under. I see now from your post that it is because they want to kick us to the curb asap.
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Well, that’s certainly the feeling I got. They made sure I had someone with me and told him a couple of times not to wander off. They wheel one patient out and the next one in. Imagine being the doctor and doing that all day!
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That is not a job I would like!
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What is NOT to *like* about this story?
Everything…since I have to have another one (again) next year…ouch…THIS year!
Thanks for the reminder. Not.
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Sorry to remind you and destroy your good mood. But just think of all that lovely salt water you get to drink! And how awesome you are going to feel when it’s OVER!
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As you see there are more than three people reading on, and it was well worth it. To tell such a stoty in such an entertainig way requires talent. Thanks for the laugh.
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Thanks for reading on to the end. Maybe I’ll write about ingrown toenails next….😄
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LOL. i’m certain it will be an entertaining read.😀
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I’m my sister’s ride, only I don’t drive. I just come along for the moral support. We don’t have Swiss Chalet here, but I’m sure I can rustle up some chicken and ribs for us. It sound yummy. Did you save a rib for Lacie?
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No, I didn’t think of that. Might keep her quiet for a few minutes.
I certainly didn’t say much while devouring everything. 😄
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I wouldn’t say much either, if I had my mouth full of sticky ribs. yumm. 🙂
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Been through that one myself and the preparation was horrible! I am so glad that you are just fine and good to go for a number of years. A very fun post 🙂
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I was wondering during the prep process if that’s what it’s like to do a cleanse…and if so, those people are crazy. lol
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Thank God all went fine and you have no fear for at least 15 years:) must celebrate 🙂 wish you healthy long life to enlighten us with you smooth flowing words with smiles:) hugs for you ❤
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I don’t have the official results yet, but fingers crossed that everything is good. Thanks Tanveer – hugs to you too.
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i’m so happy and grateful to Almighty. love, peace and hugs to you my friend
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Great job of making one of life’s less appealing experiences truly funny. Well done!!
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Less appealing is probably the nicest way to describe it. One of the most annoying parts for me was being told to leave my socks on. That’s just wrong. lol
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See, even when telling old people medical stories you manage to be funny and entertaining!
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Thanks Robin😄 But hopefully I will still have a few more adventures in my life that don’t involve medical procedures to write about.
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Thanks. This will be excellent plagiarization copy (COPY–get it? Ho, ho!) when I tell my own version.
You were spoiled. For my first colonoscopy, I didn’t have the luxury of anesthesia
–Luck Magnet Babe
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You truly are a luck magnet, no question. No sedation at all? What kind of sadistic doctor does that? The next one has to be better. Or less bad. Tolerable would also be good. xx
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You will read about it. He was a dear. The next one was better.
I am sending you BIG x’s, not ’cause I’m necessarily fonder, but ’cause I’m a BIG believer in one-upwomanship. XX
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Reading this post, it all comes back to me…the smell of the rain on the velt, the delirium after days of wondering in the back county, the taste of…oh wait, that’s another story. I lost track of yours after ‘nil by mouth’. I hate these things, but I am subjected to them very 3-5 years. My doc’s office just sent me s notice although I had it done last year…both endoscopy (esophagus, upper GI including stomach) and colonoscopy (colon only) are due. Now they want me to swallow a camera so they can examine the small intestine. Seems those darn tests last year didn’t look everywhere.
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W had an endoscopy done. But he’s never had a colonoscopy, so he hasn’t really lived a full life yet. I’ll move out for a couple of days if he ever has to do the laxative/fluids-only day from hell. Swallowing a camera doesn’t sound pleasant either. I guess we should be grateful for all these life saving things that can be done to us. But liking them is really out of the question.
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PS yes it was funny. But then you are a hoot!
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OH! they joys of getting older …been there , tell me have you had a sigmoidoscapy too! Fun isn’t it!!
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No I haven’t had one of those. How many damned things can they do down there?? lol
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TOO bloody many!
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Well, I’m glad everything came out okay……
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You should really have a column in a newspaper. I can see people spluttering over this on their ride – not yours – to work. Nothing might ever happen(!) but, by the gods, it’s funny as hell nothing. Keep on doing nothing. And let us know when you do. 🙂
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