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It’s official, I’m middle aged…

It’s official, I’m middle aged, I had a colonoscopy…

I’m not afraid to admit it, I don’t like visiting the doctors and I’m a medical wuss. With my spotty medical history you’d have thought that I’d be used to it by now.

I get nervous and sweaty during the most minor of medical procedures (picking up the phone to make the appointment), beyond that it ranges from vague panic and a racing pulse through to curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and refusing to get into the car.

Lets just say while I appreciate the medical professionals I’ve dealt with in the past as individuals, it’s just every time I visit I seem to end up with needles poking into me and some form of new humiliation involving backless gowns, fainting, crying and flashing the nurse.

It all starts a couple of weeks beforehand when I made the appointment to visit Geoff, I was slightly alarmed by the easy way in which he talks about shoving 15 yards of hose pipe into my bum. Also, seeing as I’m there, lets have a look inside my throat and stomach… First thought is I hope they don’t use the same hose, and if they do throat first please…

Second thought is “THEY ARE GOING TO SHOVE 15 YARDS OF HOSE UP MY BUTT!!!”

I guess I must have nodded or made some affirmative gesture at some point as next thing I know his young assistant is talking to me about the best date to have her boss shove things up my bum, the humiliation had started and somewhere Geoff was sniggering.

Lets be clear, it’s something all guys try to put off, we have our reasons. Don’t have the time, school play, grass needs cutting or DON”T WANT 15 YARDS OF HOSE SHOVED UP OUT BUTT!!!.

A couple of days before hand I went to collect a jug of some stuff called TriLyte that is going to clean me out and has the warning “may cause loose or watery stools”. Awesome, this is going to be an afternoon to remember.

The huge jug comes with some flavor packets which “offer the patient a choice of great-tasting varieties”, the pharmacist warns me that these are not kool-aid packages and not to mix with water and give to the kids as they are super sweet to counter the taste of TriLyte. It sounded like he was talking from experience.

After some debate I choose cherry (over lemon/lime, orange, pineapple and citrus berry) hoping that it had the strongest flavour.

Two days before and it’s time for my last meal for the next 48 hours, I figure I’d better make it a good one. Off we all go to Red Robin for bottomless fries, maybe my ultimate comfort food.

I’m on a liquid diet the day before and every time I open the fridge the jog of TryLite is sitting there taunting me. The instructions are to drink a glass every 20 minutes for 2 hours starting in the early afternoon, then if there are still solids coming out to keep drinking until there is nothing left.

For the next 4 hours I was pretty much camped out in the bathroom. You really don’t want me to be too graphic here, but imagine the Space Shuttle taking off. To draw one last parallel before I get off the subject, once they ignite the solid rockets they can’t switch them off, it was like that.

I passed the fries, the sandwich I had for lunch the previous day and it kept coming, I swear there were things expelled that I’d eaten months ago.

The morning had arrived, no fluids allowed and I’m feeling crappy. I was there an hour before the appointment and no time was wasted in starting the humiliation (“Here he comes, get the special gown out the freezer…”) by giving me the backless gown that was missing a couple of ties and was a little too short. This was followed by sitting me in a lounger that tilted back to the “show everything” angle.

I try to relax with a book but it was not happening, and then of course comes the needles… I hate needles more than Indiana Jones hates snakes.

After all the nurses have had their turn to laugh at me I’m walked into the darkened room where Geoff and a couple of nurses are waiting for me suppressing giggles. I nervously glance around looking for the hose; I think they keep it hidden so they don’t freak the patients out (thank you Geoff). We make a little small talk and I mention for the 34th time that I want extra drugs.

Geoff confirms they will not be using the same probe for both inspections and that yes it’s sterile.

There was a recent incident where a hospital was just washing to hose between exams, not sterilizing it. Over 2500 people had to be tested for all sorts of fun things that can me caught by sharing colonoscopy equipment.

I don’t recall anything of the next 45 minutes until I came round laying on my right looking at a TV screen showing my insides. Geoff noticed I was moving and said we were almost done.

I got some pictures to take home and show people (“Hey, guess what this is?”). They snipped a couple of polyps off for analysis and while not totally positive I feel much better about it.

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