Friday, April 7, 2017

The Cleanest Colon

I made a NY resolution for 2017 that this would be the year I finally got myself a colonoscopy - what a goal! I promptly put off the organising until early this week (the first week of April - impressive) and I got on the phone to the NT Medical Specialists. Within 3 hours I had my referral, had skyped with the surgeon and was booked in for the procedure in 2 days time. Thank you universe. Not only was I getting a colonoscopy but ALSO an endoscopy which is a little camera down your throat to check out how my duodenum and stomach were getting on. A double plugger if you like.
Now a colonoscopy is not just a camera up your clacker. It's a several day process of cleaning out the bowel so it is squeaky clean for those devilish folk to have a look at what's happening in there.
This involves eating less for a few days and avoiding more fibrous foods - no problem. However the day before the procedure is a little more intense and involves drinking 3 separate drinks over a 6 hour period that assist in cleaning out the colon. This is my story.
15.06 I am one drink down, it is slightly lemony, thickish but palatable. Feeling inspired about writing this down.
15.25 I just sneezed and not only did it smell (bad breath? disease? the drink?) a small piece of poo seriously threatened to raise it's head. Consider me unnerved.
15.30 Just realised we only have one roll of double length toilet paper. Texted Josh to ask him to pick up some as I daren't leave the house.
15.45 It has begun. Currently feels as though my bladder has moved into my sphincter.
15.46 Text Josh back. Please buy the most expensive and luxurious toilet paper currently available.
15.55 The odds of me sharting myself today are sky high. Extremely likely. Almost a definite.
15.59 My friend (a veteran of 3 colonoscopies) texts to suggest baby wipes may help. I text Josh and he replies 'WTF is going on?'. I decide not to elaborate.
16.20 I feel like I may have taken a small tab of acid. I'm clammy, time is infinite and I'm creating waterfalls of shit out of my anus.
16.32 My veteran friend suggests I take a valium to help me sleep tonight. I reply 'Why? So I can shit the bed in peace?'.
16.45 My 6 year old enters the bathroom to ask me if I know anyone who can swallow swords? 'No mate. Nope. I do not. In fact, I know nothing. Everything I know has gone into the toilet. Everything'. She looks at me strangely and backs away.
16.47 The family have started to use the downstairs toilet.
16.51 I'm about to apply nappy cream to my own anus. A new low. Although unexpectedly - quite pleasant.
17.04 It's starting to burn. It's an anus fire. Do I just stay on the toilet? I don't know who I am anymore.
* I stay on the toilet. Then I lay on my bed very carefully until 18.00 and it's time for the next drink.
18.01 I have one litre of donkey piss flavoured with lemon and salt to drink within the hour.
18.16 I am two glasses in and I am Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince drinking the emerald potion from the stone basin - 'I don't want....Don't make me....I want to stop...Please let me stop'. My family carry on ignoring me.
18.37 There is no God.
18.39 There is a God and he is full of vengeance as he punishes me through my anus for every misdeed of my life.
18.47 I am a shadow of my former self. My spirit, my essence, my very being has been spurted out of me down the toilet.
18.54 I finish the last glass. There is no victory, only burning, gushing, spurts of fire from my asshole.
19.30 My 6 year old has a bath whilst I sit on the toilet waiting for the inevitable. She talks on and on about science and reptiles and the big bang and she is fucking amazing until a shower of shit erupts from my asshole. Suddenly there is silence. 'Oh God' I groan, 'I'm sorry'.
'That's fine' she shrugs. 'That sounded cool'. We burst into giggles, mine bordering on hysteria, but it's a lovely moment.
19.40 She has now taken to imitating my moans and whimpers. It would seem I sound somewhat ridiculous. We take a toilet selfie, between gushes and finally she gets to witness me (almost) ecstatically wiping more nappy cream on my ass. I wonder briefly if it's a terribly inappropriate thing for a child to watch her Mother do but a) don't care and b) think it would be worse to shut the door on her. Self pleasure starts at home kiddo.
20.01 It is all sting now. I'm light headed. As a full bodied woman, I'm beginning to feel waif like. I take my phone into the toilet and try to watch Louis CKs new Netflix special. I text my brother to tell him Louis cares more about my red raw anus than any of my family, then quickly follow it up with an apology text. So sorry. I'm not myself. My spirit has left via the back passage. I am a wounded soldier in my battle for good health. I am beyond help.
*Nothing but liquid gushes out of me at regular intervals. I've used A LOT of nappy cream.
21.00 Last drink. It's the same as the first - palatable lemon. I drink it down. Because I fucking have to.
21.17 Surely there is nothing left in me. I am devoid of shit. I think this as I squirt what remains of my soul into the toilet.
21.18 Fuck it. I take the valium. I put a mother sized overnight with wings pad on and hope for the best.
21.33 I return to my best friend, the toilet. She's got me. Forever friends.
*Finally I sleep, waking hazily maybe twice and fortunately make it to the toilet both times.
I wake, the thinnest I've been in years, also possibly the hungriest and head in for my 'procedure' scheduled for 8.45. I'm ushered through, then wait for an hour. There is a girl who keeps crying in the waiting room, but I think that's only because she is scared of needles. I hope so. I finally get called in and go through the litany of questions I'm pretty sure I've already answered 3 times in the last 2 days. I ask if I can please get on her scales and we share a nice moment when I tell her this is the first time I've willingly asked that question in about 20 years. I've lost 4 kilos in 2 days. We almost high five.
I change into my extraordinarily flattering robe and take a cheeky bum shot in the mirror for my friends enjoyment. I get settled into a bed, the anaesthetist sticks a needle into me and I'm wheeled into theatre. They ask me what procedure I'm having (seriously guys?) and I make them laugh when I say 'The Double Plugger!' my surgeon is a gorgeous pregnant young person which I'm so happy about. They roll me onto my side (fuck), inject me with whatever it is, I cheekily call out 'I'm still awake...'
Then some lady is waking me up and I'm so relaxed it's incredible. 'What did he give me?' I ask dreamily and they explain something about fentanyl which I tell them I really like and is it possible to buy it over the counter? I'm left to stare happily out the window and occasionally chat randomly with a lovely nurse who is impressed that before the procedure my resting heart rate was 54 beats per minute it is now sitting at an opium induced 42 bpm. I wonder briefly out loud if they used lube (they did). The surgeon comes to tell me I have a healthy colon and stomach and she will touch base with me again in 2 weeks to follow up. I'm given photos of my impeccably clean and healthy colon and I wish I could share them with more people, I'm just so proud. I could sell that thing As New (without tags). I fill in a feedback form and under 'What's the best thing about your experience at Darwin Day Surgery' I write 'fentanyl - kidding - it's you lovely staff who took care of me and made me feel safe'. Or something like that anyway.
Finally I'm allowed to get dressed, eat some cheese and crackers, drink 2 poppas and my lovely friend Kelly comes to pick me up. I'm slightly giddy, very cheerful and completely chill. I spend the rest of the afternoon lolling on the couch. Seriously that whole prep thing was worth it just for the fentanyl high.
Moral of the story is - take control of your health. Do what needs to be done. Empty yourself of some shit, or get someone (preferably a Dr) to shove a finger up your ass, have a pap smear - just do something so you don't die too young, from something you could have prevented. My Dad died when he was 44 of bowel cancer and you know what - he shouldn't have. If his cancer had been detected  earlier he could have lived, to see so much more of this wonderful, ridiculous life we are gifted with. I wish he had. I hope to live a long, interesting, magnificent life and if that involves cameras up the anus - then lube me up scotty, I'm all in.

1 comment:

  1. Well I would definitely have one after reading this mate - You have written so eloquently about shitting, now that's talent right there xoxo