Colonoscopy.
As I mentioned before, the preparation part of it is the worst. Spending an entire day fasting and necessarily within a toe's length of a privy, was about as fun as listening to a crying baby. At first, it's tolerable and you think, "I can do this". Then, it progresses to something like, "Are you kidding me? Is this really still happening?" Finally you succumb, defeated, exhausted and begging someone to kill you dead.
I woke up the day of the procedure lighter on the scale (whee) but with a dehydration headache. I didn't want to drink anything because I'd had already had to take eight more pills within half an hour of waking and the water from that dose exited nearly as quickly as it had entered. My arse was on fire. No joke. A word to the wise here: Get thyself to the nearest warehouse club and purchase a case of baby wipes and drum of vaseline. Use them, from the beginning and for every trip. Forget the Charmin, which will come to feel like the NY Times. Words like chafed, raw and tender will take on new and intimate meaning. Just hearing a toilet flush will cause you to wince.
I am so not kidding.
The procedure itself was quiet and uneventful. I asked the doctor what he was injecting into my I.V. when it was showtime.
"Fentanyl and Midazolam," he replied. I love my doctor. The rest is a bit hazy.
Approximately twenty minutes and three removed polyps later, it was all over. It wasn't that bad and getting confirmation that there were no signs of dysplasia anywhere near that delicate spot was welcome news.
With a few days of perspective, I have to admit that while somewhat unpleasant, a colonoscopy is really not that big a deal. For me, the peace of mind easily supercedes the pain in the ass (deliberate reference) quality of the whole thing. Besides, it was nice to be shit-free for a day.
I say we make it a mandatory procedure for our elected officials.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Light, Camera, COLON!
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