Baby's First Colonoscopy

Xennials, it's our time.

To start with, I feel like I should probably just come right out and say that I’m high on Propofol right now.

Maybe not “high” but still definitely under its effects. I don’t really take any mind altering things on a regular basis…I don’t drink, I don’t use marijuana, I like to be pretty clear headed.

But I had a colonoscopy this morning and they shot me up with this Propofol stuff and I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling pretty good. Definitely not clear headed, but it’s nice, for a change.

I’m not supposed to drive or make major decisions for the rest of the day, and maybe writing a blog post about my first colonoscopy and putting it out there for all of the internet (or my 5 regular readers, more likely) to enjoy, maybe not the best decision but it just seems right. Let’s go for it.

Xennials and millenials, guess what? It’s our turn to start getting screening colonoscopies. Yeah, we’re that old. Time to get our buttholes probed to look for colon cancer.

I was born in 1979, so right on the border of Gen-X and Millenials. I’m officially the youngest of the Gen-Xers, and I do usually like to classify myself as Gen-X, because it’s just cooler, but in all honesty, I usually feel more like the eldest of the elder Millenials. I heard a theory once that if you are born on the cusp of a generation, you’ll relate to whatever most of your siblings are. If I’d had older siblings, I’d feel more Gen-X, but since I have younger siblings, I feel more Millenial, I guess.

Anyway, to those in my age range and a little bit younger, did you know that if you go to your doctor for a physical, and you are age 45 or older, they’re probably going to tell you to get a colonoscopy?

I didn’t know. It was sprung on my, a surprise, last year. I didn’t know that was coming. I was horrified at the idea. I thought it was an old people thing, and I don’t feel like an old people, not yet. Also, I hate going under anathesia because although I am not an old people, I am a pukey people, and anathesia makes me puke.

My doctor gave me a compromise and said I could do a Cologuard test. It’s a way of testing for colon cancer that isn’t as accurate as a colonoscopy but it’s something, so I did that.

It’s super gross. You poop in a box, and bring the box to the FedEx store, and hand your box of poop to the guy at the counter. Disgusting. Then you leave, embarassed, and wait for results.

My results were fine, so I got my little “Get out of colonoscopy” card for a year.

I had my physical this year, and after having a year to process the idea, I brought it up before she did. I had just had an iffy mammogram the week earlier so I was in the mood to just take on and tackle any other suspicious lumps and bumps that might be hiding in my body.

Here’s the thing about my body: it really likes making suspicious lumps and bumps.

Usually, when a suspicious thing is discovered, I go through a week or so of utter panic, imagining the worst, then on closer examination, the doctor decides the lump or bump is “probably nothing” and we’ll just keep an eye on it. I’ve got suspicious lumps all over the place, it seems like, whenever screening tests go looking for something, they seem to find something.

Sometimes, they don’t even find the ones that are actually something. I had a bunch of cysts on my thyroid for years that they were following, then I had my thyroid taken out, and when it was biopsied, all of the suspicious lumps were actually innocent and benign, but tucked away, hidden under all of the innocent lumps was a tiny little malignant microcancery lump. If you have to get a cancer diagnosis, it is at least nice to get the diagnosis after the fact, when the cancer is already rotting away in some medical waste bin.

So I had three fears in facing my first colonoscopy:

1. The grossness of it. If pooping in a box and bringing it to FedEx creeped me out, oh, just wait…

2. Anasthesia barfing

3. Finging new suspicious lumps and bumps to add to my existing collection of lumps and bumps.

Worry point #1—the grossness.

I was very worried about the gross poopfest that is a colonoscopy prep but it wasn’t that bad. You have to go a day on a clear liquid diet, then start downing all this stuff to make you poop everything out. In the morning, I went for a nice walk with my dog, then a run, then started the process. My “prescription” was four Dulcolax tablets and a big bottle of Miralax mixed with Gatorade.

I holed up at home, and decided it was a good time to do a binge watch of HBO’s “Girls”. I watched an episode or two when it first came out but never really got into it. But I started watching it this weekend and enjoyed it, so I decided to binge it while I was prepping. Will I now, forever, associate “Girls” with a nonstop diarrhea fest? Maybe.

Actually, nonstop diarrhea fest is an exaggeration. It wasn’t too bad. It was a bit of a wild ride for a while but honestly, not the worst thing. I’m glad I was watching “Girls” because there is a lot of gross stuff on that show and it made me less ashamed when I would have ominous abdominal gurgling and would have to get up and literally run to the toilet. I would have felt a little more ashamed if I was watching a classy show like Downtown Abbey, or The Gilded Age. I can’t imagine those characters having violent explosions from their butts, but Hannah Horvath would understand.

I was surprised to find that the hunger of being on a liquid diet for a day was actually worse than the pooping stuff of it. I don’t like to not eat. Food is good stuff. The closest I had to real food was root beer popsicles from Whitey’s Ice Cream, which I recommend heartily, if you are ever in the Quad Cities area. They are really, really, really delicious.

I woke up the next morning 4 pounds lighter than I was the previous morning. That was a nice surprise. My stomach hasn’t felt that flat in a few years. Perk!

So, the grossness? I totally overworried about it. It was fine. Got a flat stomach-worth it.

I headed into the hospital this morning for the big event. I got all checked in, dressed in a backless gown, talked to various doctors and wheeled to the room to do the deed, or more accurately, have the deed done to me. My nurse almost crashed my bed into the bed of the exiting, konked out colonoscopy patient as we rounded a corner. I felt bad for her—one of her nails ripped off against the bed rail. Ouch!

Worry point #2-Anasthesia barfing

Another overblown non-issue. I had no barfing. I had no nausea. It was great!

I’m no stranger to anasthesia, although it might seem that way because I seem to misspell it a lot (I don’t spellcheck these blog posts. I leave the errors. I like a few spelling mistakes in writing. Too-perfect writing feels too AI-ey these days.)

In my life, I’ve had quite a few surgeries, some necessary, some for fun. Let’s see, I’ve had a deviated septum surgery, a ganglion cyst removal on my wrist, several dental surgeries on my mess of a mouth, a tummy tuck, a breast reduction, and a thyroidectomy. That’s a lot of anasthesia. And it alwasy makes me puke. I wake up from my sleep and immediately start barfing.

Not this time though! It was great! I get why Michael Jackson liked his propofol. It’s good stuff! (If it doesn’t kill you, RIP, MJ)

When the nurse was getting me ready for the procedure, she kept saying that I was going to be taking the best nap of my life, and I thought she was exaggerating, but SHE.WAS.NOT.

The anasthesiologist gave me the heads up that he was starting the medicine and I’d be out in about 30 seconds, and I could immediately feel my consciousness start to slip away, like I was sliding down a slide into an abyss. Whoosh!

Then when I woke up, it felt like I had been sleeping for hours, but it was only like 15 minutes. As I woke up, I dreamed that I was waking up in my bedroom, but the bed was on another wall, and when I realized where I actually was, the first thing I did was start mumbling to the nurse about how I needed to rearrange my bedroom furniture. I bet it is pretty funny to be a nurse and wake people up from anasthesia and see what they talk about. I’d enjoy that aspect of the job.

Then I started gushing to my husand about how great it felt to go to sleep under propofol and about how I really how Illinois does end up passing the assisted suicide law they were debating this year because if I was terminally ill, that’s the way I’d want to go. I remember ranting for a bit about how I don’t want to rot for a decade in a nursing home, just put me to sleep forever, send me down that astral slide into the unknown with a nice quick shot.

I’m a little morose.

But in a cheerful way?

I think.

Worry point #3: Suspicious lumps and bumps

Guess what?

I have a perfect colon.

PERFECT!

That’s literally the word the doctor used when he was giving me the results after I woke up. He said I have a perfect colon. He seemed excited about it. He probably sees a lot of messed up things, must have been nice for him to start his day with a nice, clean, PERFECT colon.

I went in assuming the worst, that they’d go in and find all sort of horrible varieties of cancers and worms and monsters and all sorts of terrifying things. I was mentally preparing myself for the idea that I’d have to have biopsies and do follow ups and be stressed out about cancer treatments.

None of that! The doctor complimented me on my perfect colon, and sent me on my merry way, with a recommendation to do a repeat screening colonoscopy in ten years.

I haven’t eaten red meat in almost ten years, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I have recently given up other meat and gone vegetarian. I also eat oatmeal almost every god-damn day, because I love it. I think all of that probably helped. I would like to thank the Quaker Oats man for his assistance in sweeping out my colon on a regular basis.

So there it is, kids, baby’s first colonoscopy.

Overall, not as bad as I built it up to be in my head, and I got to take good drugs, and got new furniture rearranging ideas, and a flat stomach. A++++++, would highly recommend.

If you are over 45, go get that colonoscopy

!