Posts Tagged ‘blowing sunshine up your butt’

Colonoscopy

October 7, 2008

Disclaimer:  This is a recollection of events of some 5 years ago.  I can look back on it and laugh now.  But, given the… ummm… “festivities” in my life of late, I wouldn’t want folks to think that life was piling on.

With apologies to you women who have to be prodded every year by your gyno, having your prostate probed is not in the least fun.  I’m guessing that the doctor is none too thrilled about the prospect either.  But, I am “of an age” where occasional prostate checks are de rigueur.

My doc has a sense of humor, thankfully and unfortunately.  Before every examination, of any kind, he always takes time to ask how my life has been going and just chat a bit.  Before that particular exam, we did the same.  I happened to mention that I had a very important presentation to my senior leadership that afternoon.  Later in the exam, it was time for the ol’ prostate to get checked and the doc was getting gloved and lubed up.  Just before diving in, he mentioned, “You know when you get in front of your bosses this afternoon, you’re going to remember that I had my finger up your butt.”

…ahh, the power of suggestion…

Yep, stumbled over a part of the presentation when that mental seed he planted sprouted gloriously in my mind while looking at the sea of faces staring at me…

Anyway, Doc decided that I needed a colonoscopy.  That’s where they stick a garden hose up your butt with an industrial sized flashlight and SLR camera duct taped to it in order to peek around what’s up there. W-a-a-a-y up there.

A scheduled procedure in the doc’s office, the worst part was the preparation.  Since they’re going up there, they don’t want any… ummm… unprocessed refuse blocking the way.  So the day before, they start you on some ‘colon blow’ medicine that, at first, isn’t so bad.

Then it gets worse.

Then it gets awfully worse.

While they warn you not to stay too far away from a toilet, what they should tell you is “plan on residing near permanently on the toilet for 12 to 24 hours”.  Even when it seems there can be nothing left, out comes more.  And it felt explosive enough to be alternate method to launch satellites.  Of course, even using the softest of soft bathroom tissue, things get rather rough and sore from overuse.

Ow…

Comes the next day and the actual procedure.  Although anxious, I’m exhausted from being up most of the night having a deeply personal and close relationship with my toilet.  I am actually looking forward to being sedated.

I transitioned from waiting room to dressing room to standby room (where they do last minute prep… like sedation [yay!!]… before going into the procedure room).  In the standby room, my nurse for the procedure comes in the private room… and, wouldn’t ya know it, she’s a member of my church… who I saw every Sunday… and who was going to help with a procedure to ravage my butt… and I’ll have to look her in the eye every Sunday knowing that.

I guess they expect that to happen every now and again, though.  She offered up, since we were acquainted with each other that she could easily arrange another nurse (they tag team the procedures) to take me as a patient.

Already sedated, but knowing this was her job, I rallied my last wisps of logic and humor, given the procedure to be done… and I said:

“Nope, not necessary.  You be the professional nurse; I’ll be the professional asshole.”

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P.S.  Yep, results were “all clear” and okay for another 10 years…