Well, I should be good to go for another year. …
A year ago at this time, I was recovering from colon cancer surgery after an unwelcome polyp was found during my Thanksgiving Day 2020 emergency appendectomy.
Everything went well last February as my Groundhog Day operation removed the cancer, as well as some of my colon, part of a bowel, some lymph nodes and something I like to call my “poop valve.”
Don’t ask.
But, because I’m now a cancer survivor, for the time being at least, I’m supposed to have an annual colonoscopy to make sure all is well in that portion of my insides. That took place this week.
The actual colonoscopy is a walk in the park. The procedure itself is nothing more than a short nap, followed by a short recovery and – hopefully – a hearty meal.
However, one does have to don one of those infamous hospital gowns that exposes your backside in the worst way. And, of course, in this case, your backside needs to be exposed because … well … that’s where the roto-rooter gains its entry.
Colonoscopy patients must have a chauffeur since they’re knocked out with anesthesia during the procedure. Nope, certainly don’t want to drive under this or any other influence.
Anyway, after you sign your life away while lying on your back – including a form that gives permission for doctors to resuscitate you if something goes wrong during the procedure, something everyone wants to think about beforehand – you get put into position.
“Turn on your side facing me,” I was told. “Let me see your butt.”
I honestly don’t know if anyone has ever told me that last part before.
So, I maneuver myself to my side, feeling the gown fall away from its humble covering.
I pause.
“Let me see a little more of it.” Huh? Really?
Huh? Really?
I felt like asking the guy, “How about if I just stick it high in the air for all the world to see?”
But I resisted the urge as I pushed and positioned myself a little more so a certain thing was in full view.
Truth be told, I’m not much of a mooner. …
Feel free to applaud.
So, it’s a very good thing that shortly thereafter you drift off to sleep and no longer have to worry about any level of exposure – or what actually is getting pushed in and moved around in there.
Soon, you wake up, happy to be lying on your back again with gown and sheet in place covering all the vitals.
And then came the good news – always a big answer to prayer.
“Everything looks good.” …
So, that’s the easy part. It’s the preparation that bites.
Enter what I call “the goop.” Now, all things considered, this preparation liquid that cleans you out is not the worst thing in the world.
But, it’s close to the worst tasting thing I’ve ever swallowed.
And you’re supposed to be on the clock to drink it … twice.
There’s the first round and the second round – both featuring 16 ounces of this nasty stuff followed by at least 16 ounces of water.
Much more difficult than it sounds – at least for me.
I work in a deadline-driven profession where I’m basically on the clock all the time. Getting things in order for each edition of your Boerne Star in a timely fashion is part of my daily routine – and something I’m very good at doing.
And we also have to remember that you have to fast the entire day before the procedure – consuming only things like gelatin, broth and clear liquids. That’s like 24 hours of no solid food before you get to treat your body to “the goop.”
More on that in a few sentences. …
The first time I had a colonoscopy, I had to drink a gallon of the stuff. Some people still have to do that. Apparently, it depends on the doctor.
But the last two times – plus my prep for my cancer surgery – I “only” had to drink 16 ounces of the concoction in 30 minutes, followed by a really and truly unwelcome 16 ounces of plain water. And then that gets repeated a few hours later.
Again, not the worst thing in the world but I’d probably rather eat worms.
I mean, the stuff even smells nasty, and when your nose gets a whiff of it as your bring the container to your mouth for a dreaded sip, the gag reflex kicks in.
At least it did for me on Monday night and then again before the crack of dawn on Tuesday when it was time for Round 2.
Yep, figure this one out. You put nasty stuff inside you – twice – so you can spend much of the next several hours on the potty getting as cleaned out as cleaned out can be.
Ah yes, a very good and healthy time.
Anyway, I uncharacteristically struggled more than usual during Round 1, and I think I beat my 30-minute deadline by about 1.2 seconds. I even gagged drinking the pure, clean water afterward.
I felt my stomach rebelling: “Don’t you dare put any more of that stuff in here!”
The nausea remained for a couple hours as I looked forward to Round 2 at 3 a.m.
And, again, the bathroom came calling – and calling.
Round 2 was much worse than Round 1. I think I missed my 30-minute deadline by a few minutes. And while putting the finishing touches on drinking the water afterward, I lost it – physically – while sitting on the throne.
There’s just nothing quite like having things coming out of both ends at the same time. …
Ah, yes … trying to win the health fight as older age invades us. The things we do in an attempt to take good care of ourselves!
But, that’s all in the past for another year. Whew!
And all I know is that breakfast sandwich tasted oh so good on Tuesday morning as Nancy drove me home for a couple hours of required R&R before I headed to the office at noon to still put in almost a full day’s work.
So here’s to our health! Just don’t ask me to raise the goop glass for a toast.
As always, thanks for reading.
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