If you're my Facebook friend, then you probably figured this was coming... the colonoscopy blog. Yes, after many years of "Oops, my colonoscopy prescription has expired. Again." I was finally forced to go through with it.
Let me add my voice to all those who tried to reassure me. Really, it isn't as bad as you convince yourself it is going to be. After all, we're dealing with an invasive procedure. And poop. Heaven knows, we all hate poop. Ugh. Poop. Yuck. But since the majority of people I know are full of it, poop is something we all must eventually deal with.
I approached the procedure with as much optimism as I could muster. I told my sister that I planned to weigh myself before the cleanse and after it to see how much weight I lost. I figured, whatever the amount of poo and excess fluid that left my body, I would subtract that amount of weight from my weekly weigh in. After all, it's waste material, neither fat nor muscle. Due to its temporary status, I scientifically deduced that amount should not count. I was anticipating being able to mentally deduct five whole pounds each time I weighed in. Ha! It was a whopping total of .6 pounds. Or poundlets, since it wasn't even a whole pound. Ugh. Damn poop.
The cleanse itself wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. A person used to have to fast while downing a very salty and gritty concoction that you picked up in its gallon jug at the pharmacy. Every old person in line knew what you were in for, which was totally embarrassing. They looked at you and saw poo. Ugh. Poop. Yuck.
I got to drink a concoction of Miralax and Powerade. I love lemon lime drinks (especially margaritas), so I bought the light liquid and figured this would be a breeze. And the first glass went down easily. But the aftertaste didn't. By the end of my 64 ounces, I was using a straw, holding my nose, and closing my eyes as I sucked down each dose as quickly as possible. I never felt nauseated, even though a few of my friends had experienced projectile vomiting. I was determined to follow the instructions perfectly. My friend Nadine had told me that her hubby Chuck had to do the whole thing over again because he hadn't been able to clean himself out. No way was I going through that!!
Here's my advice about how to best use the bathroom. Make sure the house has been cleared of people who might feel tempted to comment on the noises or fumes coming from the potty room. No one needs to hear, "Holy cow! Light a match!" And frankly, I'm not sure that match lighting would even be safe. My dog, who loves to sleep at my feet, stayed at my sister's house because I didn't want to trip over her on my sprint to the bathroom. (I did that once and put a hole in the wall the size of my butt.) Since I wasn't sure when the meds would kick in, I had my book, glasses, a small pillow, and a space heater waiting for me in the bathroom. What can I say about the heart of the prep? If you have ever had food poisoning, this is no where near as bad. I even managed to get a few hours of sleep before Dee came to get me at 6:30 am.
The hospital staff was very nice. They are compassionate and understand that this is a humiliating experience for patients. I actually felt compassion for them having to deal with poop on a daily basis. I thought getting up to go to work with maniac seventh graders was a challenge. Ha! I can't imagine how one greets the day knowing you're going to spend it scoping people's colons. I hope it pays well.
Once you are hooked up to the IVs and heart monitor, you're in dreamland before they wheel you out of the waiting area. I woke up with a big smile. It was over! I survived! And the drugs were gooood!! Dee and I went out for a big breakfast, and then I came home for a much needed nap.
While I won't say it's a piece of cake, I will not have these fears when I go for my next one in twelve months. You see, I need a follow-up. The doctor removed four polyps, and one was big and needs to be biopsied. I had no idea that they would find anything suspicious. I always felt fine "down there." And that is why you cannot ignore this procedure once you hit your fifties. Colon cancer is silent and sneaky. Maybe a bloody stool will alert you to a problem, but most likely not in time to avoid a problem. Had I done this procedure ten years ago, that polyp might have been removed before it had a chance to expand. Katie Couric did her colonoscopy on live TV and exclaimed, "I have a pretty little colon." I don't care if mine is pretty, but I am hoping for good news that tells me it's healthy.
March is Women's History Month. We all know that, right?!? It is also Colon Cancer Awareness Month. Get your ass to a health center near you.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Saturday, February 14, 2015
A Bad, Bad Blind Date
In honor of Valentine's Day, I've decided to share with you the absolute worst blind date of my life. It was so long ago that I am not sure I'll be able to remember the details. I do remember, though, that I swore off blind dates after that one.
One of my dear friends thought I might be a good match for her hubby's best friend. We'll call him Doofy (the best friend, not her hubby). I agreed to meet him at his home where we would then go out to dinner.
I got to Doofy's house after work, about 4:30-ish. I had brought a bottle of wine. He grinned and said, "Oh, the good stuff." Then he put it in his refrigerator, and sat down to finish the beer he was in the middle of drinking. No, he did not offer me a drink of anything. He asked if I wanted to go to a nearby steak house and told me we'd have to make a couple stops before we got there. I knew I was in trouble, but I said that was fine with me. I ignored the reverberating "Danger, Will Robinson" that filled my head.
The first stop was at the local train station where he wanted to greet his incoming grandparents. Not pick them up, his cousin was there to do that. Just greet them, just say hello. His grandparents absolutely loved him and fawned all over him, but his granny did not like me. Not one bit. He introduced me as his girlfriend, and Bubbe's nose wrinkled liked she was smelling a fart. I guess she thought I couldn't hear her ask her little Doofala what he saw in me. The grandfather assured her I must be very nice. The screaming inside my head got louder.
Next, he needed to stop at a friend's house. He and his friend cracked open a few beers, and I was left alone in the living room with a wife who wanted to do anything but entertain me. I fielded such probing questions as "How long have you known Doofy?" with answers that totally befuddled her. When she ran out of interview questions, I suggested I find Doofy so we could get off to dinner. I found him in the basement admiring the friend's classic car. He sucked down the dregs of the beer and I insisted we get moving.
In the car he told me he wanted to make one more stop. He needed to go to his OA meeting (Overeaters Anonymous) so he could be prepared to not overeat at the steak house. Finally, I pulled myself out of my shocked state and told him we could go to dinner now or he could take me back to my car. We went to dinner. During dinner, he ordered a carafe of wine. I had one drink. He finished the carafe, and ordered a second. He lectured me on how fattening and unhealthy my dinner was (a steak, baked potato, and salad from the salad bar). He had a salad on a dinner plate that was drenched in blue cheese dressing, sunflower seeds, eggs, bacon, and macaroni salad. His "healthy" salad had twice the calories of my dinner. He also ordered a steak dinner because he needed some protein to go with his salad. I hoped all that food was soaking up the alcohol because I knew that I couldn't drive a stick shift, and I wanted nothing more than to get home alive.
Back at his house, I asked to be directed to the bathroom before I made my way home. When I came out of the bathroom, the house was completely dark! Doofy had turned off every light in the house except a tiny lamp in his bedroom. I peeked in and he was sprawled across the bed, shoes and shirt off, and posed as a gift to me. He asked for a goodbye kiss. I mumbled that I had to get home because I needed to get up early for work. I nearly stumbled trying to find the staircase in the dark.
I was home by 11:30, but it took me forever to fall asleep that night. When my girlfriend asked me how the date went, I told her that he didn't seem like he was ready to date anyone at the moment. She said he was anxious to go out with me again because we had to end our date abruptly due to me needing to get up early the next day. Yes, readers, Doofy really said that to her.
I'm sure Bubbe was glad we never saw each other again.
One of my dear friends thought I might be a good match for her hubby's best friend. We'll call him Doofy (the best friend, not her hubby). I agreed to meet him at his home where we would then go out to dinner.
I got to Doofy's house after work, about 4:30-ish. I had brought a bottle of wine. He grinned and said, "Oh, the good stuff." Then he put it in his refrigerator, and sat down to finish the beer he was in the middle of drinking. No, he did not offer me a drink of anything. He asked if I wanted to go to a nearby steak house and told me we'd have to make a couple stops before we got there. I knew I was in trouble, but I said that was fine with me. I ignored the reverberating "Danger, Will Robinson" that filled my head.
The first stop was at the local train station where he wanted to greet his incoming grandparents. Not pick them up, his cousin was there to do that. Just greet them, just say hello. His grandparents absolutely loved him and fawned all over him, but his granny did not like me. Not one bit. He introduced me as his girlfriend, and Bubbe's nose wrinkled liked she was smelling a fart. I guess she thought I couldn't hear her ask her little Doofala what he saw in me. The grandfather assured her I must be very nice. The screaming inside my head got louder.
Next, he needed to stop at a friend's house. He and his friend cracked open a few beers, and I was left alone in the living room with a wife who wanted to do anything but entertain me. I fielded such probing questions as "How long have you known Doofy?" with answers that totally befuddled her. When she ran out of interview questions, I suggested I find Doofy so we could get off to dinner. I found him in the basement admiring the friend's classic car. He sucked down the dregs of the beer and I insisted we get moving.
In the car he told me he wanted to make one more stop. He needed to go to his OA meeting (Overeaters Anonymous) so he could be prepared to not overeat at the steak house. Finally, I pulled myself out of my shocked state and told him we could go to dinner now or he could take me back to my car. We went to dinner. During dinner, he ordered a carafe of wine. I had one drink. He finished the carafe, and ordered a second. He lectured me on how fattening and unhealthy my dinner was (a steak, baked potato, and salad from the salad bar). He had a salad on a dinner plate that was drenched in blue cheese dressing, sunflower seeds, eggs, bacon, and macaroni salad. His "healthy" salad had twice the calories of my dinner. He also ordered a steak dinner because he needed some protein to go with his salad. I hoped all that food was soaking up the alcohol because I knew that I couldn't drive a stick shift, and I wanted nothing more than to get home alive.
Back at his house, I asked to be directed to the bathroom before I made my way home. When I came out of the bathroom, the house was completely dark! Doofy had turned off every light in the house except a tiny lamp in his bedroom. I peeked in and he was sprawled across the bed, shoes and shirt off, and posed as a gift to me. He asked for a goodbye kiss. I mumbled that I had to get home because I needed to get up early for work. I nearly stumbled trying to find the staircase in the dark.
I was home by 11:30, but it took me forever to fall asleep that night. When my girlfriend asked me how the date went, I told her that he didn't seem like he was ready to date anyone at the moment. She said he was anxious to go out with me again because we had to end our date abruptly due to me needing to get up early the next day. Yes, readers, Doofy really said that to her.
I'm sure Bubbe was glad we never saw each other again.
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