“All’s well that ends well.” ~Unknown~
Several people prepped me for my colonoscopy with tales, (interesting pun), of orbit-blasting day before colon cleansing as being the worst part of the ‘procedure.’ (Procedure emphasized with an ominous hush.)
The day before my ‘procedure’, I stopped at the store for my intestinal purge supplies while selecting from a severely limited list of food choices from the clear diet menu. I decided against the beef bouillon jello, jiggles as it moos.
Looking for the listed powdered laxative to mix in a Gatorade cocktail for my evening date with the bathroom, a female customer nabbed one of the two shelved bottles I needed. In a parody of a Black Friday sale, I grabbed the remaining bottle and consulted pharmacy…again. He had my second bottle behind the counter.
Getting my mojo going (?!?), I bought some magazines at the checkout, keeping our bathroom library current. I was prepared to prepare…grazing on Jello as I watched the clock for the appointed time to drink and be merry, sans eat.
I waited, and I waited. Finally the purge began to work, but it was not with the blasting urgency described by my talebearers. Toilet occupancy wasn’t wasted time. I read. I learned how to make a decorative snowman from packing peanuts. I kept gravitating to the Christmas recipes, appetizing yummies decadently portrayed in the magazines I had bought…torture when you are food-deprived.
Fasting was the most difficult part of the preparation for me. When I asked, I was informed it could not be considered a religious fast.
I arrive at the clinic, purged and starved. The receptionist asked me, in the now familiar hushed tone, if I was there for my ‘procedure.'” Endosocopy and gastroenterology are visibly displayed outside and inside the clinic. What am I missing? Obviously I am not here for teeth cleaning.
Entering the waiting room, I am handed papers at another window with the same whispered seriousness, “for your ‘procedure.'” Joking with the medical assistant about the espionage approach with the term ‘procedure,’ she explains some people are sensitive to privacy. I’m thinking, “Colonoscopy, privacy, sensitivity…better get over it, fast.”
An airport-type arrival/departure ticker displays the ten ‘procedural’ physicians and if they are on time or delayed. My doctor is on a 30-minute delay pushing back my anticipated meal. The waiting room filled with the privacy sensitive have the same check-in paper work as I do. Secret’s out.
My flight has arrived as my name is finally called. The ‘procedure’ holding area is filled with men and women laying on gurneys in tiny cubicles wearing hospital gowns (obvious slit in back), the one ultra-thin issued white blanket, connected to IV poles. Can we say colonoscopy yet?
Dressed down and hooked up, I am wheeled to the ‘procedure’ room, given something in my IV much better than the laxative laced Gatorade the night before…and I am awakened a few minutes later…
As I am perimenopausal, diabetic, and have a rare disorder, my medical test results rate me as remedial patient. I was ecstatic to have aced my colonoscopy…a ‘normal’ healthy colon with a 4.0! I am not scheduled for another one for 10 years. I just have to live that long.
A Cracker Barrel celebration of chicken and dumplings with three sides followed. I was actually given pictures of my perfect colon. Scrapbook or frame?
On a serious note: Having a rare disorder, Stiff Person Syndrome and diabetes, my social calendar involves dinner after appointments. It is hard to work in routine screenings, but important. SPS can make routine screenings a challenge.
The challenge for my colonoscopy was the sedation dangers associated with the medications used to treat SPS. I emailed information to my doctor prior. My doctor, anesthesiologist, and I discussed how SPS specifically affects me and made some strategic ‘just in case’ plans. Thankfully, everything went very well.
I did not dread having a colonoscopy. I dreaded the possible result…colon cancer. Colonoscopies have evolved, in my opinion, into not that big of a deal. My peace of mind was worth it.
Now, I will have to explore the Freudian aspect of why I ate at a ‘Cracker’ Barrel after a colonoscopy? …I mean…procedure.
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