Although not usually a palatable topic for a human-interest column, I couldn’t help but write about my second colonoscopy. It had been 10 years since my first, so it was time. Ugh. As we all know, it’s not the actual procedure that’s unpleasant, it’s the prep. It’s the two days of fasting and the cleaning-out stuff you have to drink, and the-no-food-except-for-Jello routine. It’s the hiding in the bathroom while everyone else eats fried chicken. Still, it’s better than colon cancer. One-hundred percent of colon cancer starts with polyps, I’m informed. If you’re 50 or older, it’s time for The Scope. By the way, the two-day prep is now down to one day. Hallelujah!
I met with the surgeon for a pre-colonoscopy interview. I had this vision of the surgeon interviewing my colon. I was told I had to have someone with me or they wouldn’t perform the procedure, since there is no driving following anesthesia. Since I’m divorced, and living alone, that’s an issue. The nurse looked me in the eye. “Unless,” she informed me, half jokingly, “you opt to have no anesthesia.” Our eyes locked. “But we don’t recommend it.”
All of their colonoscopies are performed on Wednesday. I tried to think of some joke relating Colonoscopy Wednesday to Hump Day. But I drew a blank. I did try to talk the surgeon into a three-for-one: colonoscopy, appendectomy and gallbladderectomy. She didn’t see the humor.
The surgeon said she noted in my records that with my first colonoscopy, I’d also had an endoscopy (a look down the esophagus). She asked if I’d like that procedure done again. “Naw,” I said. “Shoot,” she said with a wink. “We use the same tool for both.” She got me!
On Wednesday I arrived with my driver, and informed them that I was going to do the procedure cold turkey, no anesthesia. The anesthesiologist scurried in real fast and asked why. I told him that the last time they put me under they about burned up my sinuses with oxygen. (The real reason was that I wanted to write about the no-anesthesia colonoscopy.) “Oh,” he said. “I’ll stand by in case you change your mind.”
They put me in the fetal position. The inside of my colon popped up on the screen. If you’ve never seen the inside of your colon, you need to. This is your body folks, the temple we worship. I highly recommend it. There were parts that looked like what I thought a colon should look like, and there were parts that looked like a spider web. It reminded me of that sci-fi movie. “Fantastic Voyage” 1966, where a submarine is miniaturized and injected into a human body.
The anesthesiologist asked me what music I would like. I just said the first thing that popped into my head, “AC-DC.” He put it on. I couldn’t believe it. Then to “Dirty deeds done dirt cheap,” the nurses started dancing. I’m not kidding.
There was some discomfort when the surgeon made the turns in the colon. I recited the 23rd Psalm. The surgeon had her hand on my side, and I felt her pat me like I pat Buddy. It gave me comfort and reassurance. The surgeon found a polyp, and I saw jaws open up like a snake to snip it. It was all quite painless. I couldn’t tell the polyp from the colon wall.
After it was over, the nurses applauded. One of them asked if there was any discomfort. I said, “Nothing the 23rd Psalm couldn’t handle.” She gave me the thumbs up, and said she did the same thing for childbirth.
The surgeon chimed in, “Cleanest colon today, Curtis! Good job. Since there was a polyp, see you in five years instead of 10.”
After getting dressed, we headed out for pancakes and eggs. But my appetite was bigger than my stomach. I could only eat a few bites.
Have a good story? Call or text Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526, email curtswarm@yahoo.com.