Colonoscopies are one of the most important yet scary procedures that people experience. While the process can help save hundreds and thousands of lives a year, many people are still are filled with fear and trepidation when thinking of it. The following “Colonoscopy “Journal” is simply a hilarious “journal” that a person wrote during his experience of his preparation for his first colonoscopy. It will certainly bring a smile to your face and tears to your eyes (from laughter). One word of note…everything come out good in the end!
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’
I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America ‘s enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose, watery bowel movement may result.’ This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but, have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything.
And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough. At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked..
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ had to be the least appropriate. ‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me.
‘Ha ha,’ I said.
And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like–I have no idea. Really.. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling ‘Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,’ and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
On the subject of Colonoscopies…
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous….. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:
1. ‘Take it easy, Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before!’
2. ‘Find Amelia Earhart yet?’
3. ‘Can you hear me NOW?’
4. ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’
5. ‘You know, in Arkansas, we’re now legally married.’
6. ‘Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?’
7. ‘You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out…’
8. ‘Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!’
9. ‘If your hand doesn’t fit, you must quit!’
10. ‘Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.’
11. ‘You used to be an executive at Enron, didn’t you?’
12. ‘God, now I know why I am not gay.’
And the best one of all:
13.Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?’
Posted a link to it on my FB page. I’ve had them, and have to every 4 or 5 years, as I’m from a cancer family. I’ve lost three younger siblings, and a father, to cancer, all with GI system involvement. I still have to more younger siblings, all of us so far cancer free.
I am laughing so hard. I have that procedure in my near future — May. It will be the second one. A polyp was found during the first and my oldest sister died from stomach cancer, so I am very grateful that medicine now has the 17,000 feet tube. LOL!
Reblogged this on Blackbutterfly7.
This cracked me up… I am glad your colon passed… I have not had one yet but I feel like now, I know what to expect! I thank you for being explicit, I love the truth.
Oh my word, I am laughing so hard I can barely breathe! Hysterical!! Praising the Lord that you passed!!! I will surely think of this when it comes my time. 🙂
I remember this well. For me it was the night before, let’s call it the “flushing”, that was the issue. My doc wanted to show me pictures stating something like this is the best… I cut him off right there. Me thinks you have to be a bit strange in this line of work.
I guess now I can say I read a colonoscopy journal and enjoyed it… but honestly I’m not sure if I’ll be saying that anytime soon. Maybe I’ll just tell people I read your blog and enjoyed THAT instead… let them experience the full joy on their own?
Huge lol! Excellent description. All I can say is its bark is worse than its bite. If you have the luxury of being ‘put out’, the worst is over after drinking that horrendous, most disgusting solution that has ever been created for mankind.
Great Dave Barry piece that I had never seen. Thanks for blogging it! While looking for the author, I found the original article (http://www.miamiherald.com/2009/02/11/v-print/427603/dave-barry-a-journey-into-my-colon.html).
While not the most humorous part, the public service message at the end from Mr. Barry is worth reproducing too:
From Dave Barry:
But my point is this: In addition to being a pathetic medical weenie, I was a complete moron. For more than a decade I avoided getting a procedure that was, essentially, nothing. There was no pain and, except for the MoviPrep, no discomfort. I was risking my life for nothing.
If my brother Sam had been as stupid as I was — if, when he turned 50, he had ignored all the medical advice and avoided getting screened — he still would have had cancer. He just wouldn’t have known. And by the time he did know — by the time he felt symptoms — his situation would have been much, much more serious. But because he was a grown-up, the doctors caught the cancer early, and they operated and took it out. Sam is now recovering and eating what he describes as ”really, really boring food.” His prognosis is good, and everybody is optimistic, fingers crossed, knock on wood, and all that.
Which brings us to you, Mr. or Mrs. or Miss or Ms. Over-50-And-Hasn’t-Had-a-Colonoscopy. Here’s the deal: You either have colo-rectal cancer, or you don’t. If you do, a colonoscopy will enable doctors to find it and do something about it. And if you don’t have cancer, believe me, it’s very reassuring to know you don’t. There is no sane reason for you not to have it done.
I am so eager for you to do this that I am going to induce you with an Exclusive Limited Time Offer. If you, after reading this, get a colonoscopy, let me know by sending a self-addressed stamped envelope to Dave Barry Colonoscopy Inducement, The Miami Herald, 1 Herald Plaza, Miami, FL 33132. I will send you back a certificate, signed by me and suitable for framing if you don’t mind framing a cheesy certificate, stating that you are a grown-up who got a colonoscopy. Accompanying this certificate will be a square of limited-edition custom-printed toilet paper with an image of Miss Paris Hilton on it. You may frame this also, or use it in whatever other way you deem fit.
But even if you don’t want this inducement, please get a colonoscopy. If I can do it, you can do it. Don’t put it off. Just do it.
Be sure to stress that you want the non-Abba version.
Dear Entertained Reader….thanks for the information! I usually try to credit the author, but in this case, I didn’t know who wrote it. How did you find the author and/or the story? Please let me know.
I appreciate your question and ran to answer it. I am a stickler for giving credit where credit is due. Paste your first line “I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.” into google and see the search results. You can do the same with images to find the originator.
I am actually a stickler as well. I always wondered how I could find the author of a piece. Thank you my friend!!!
Funny! And funny is a good way to go when we’re talking medical procedures; after all, it’s the fear of the unknown that’s the worst, right? And funny helps remove the fear.
Reblogged this on EmmaBananaLymphoma and commented:
For someone who is in quite possibly the worst mood ever today, this made me laugh quite a lot 🙂
haha I love this so much XD as someone who has had far too many lovely medical experiences, I know I try and retell them to people in a similarly entertaining manner, but I probably don’t succeed quite as much as this one did.
Having gone through that procedure `i loved it!
Many thanks for sharing this smile. So clever and fun. With a great moral to do it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am so glad that you liked it!! Have a great day!!
LikeLiked by 1 person