Clean as a Whistle*

*WARNING* Gross, nasty, disgusting and WAY too much information ahead. If you are not interested please don't read any further. If you are- I'm sorry.

Hi. My name is Cat. I'm 32 years old and I have a spasming colon. Yes, it's true. You may well ask, "How do you know this information, Cat?". One word...

COLONOSCOPY!!!! Originating from the latin- Colon meaning butt and Oscopy meaning camera UP the butt. How fun for me. And now... how fun for you...

So... I'm sent to a gastrointerologist- otherwise known as tummy doctor- to diagnose why my abdomen hates me. When I first made my appointment to see Dr. Reddy, the receptionist asked me the reason for my visit. I simply replied, "Mu abdomen hates me" to which I was greeted with silence. Poor girl. She didn't know how to respond. After establishing that, No, I was not dying, and yes, I could wait a few weeks, I was set up to see Dr. Reddy.

Dr. Reddy listened very patiently while I gave him the long sordid past of my hateful abdomen. Not once did he laugh at me. When my pathetic tale was through, he said, "I know whats wrong with you?" To which I replied, "Finally my life's quest is complete!". No, I didn't really say that, at least not on the outside. Anyhow he told me I have IBS- Irritable Bowel Syndrome. So basically I have a pissed off intestine; an curmudgeonly colon, cranky crapper, etc. No shit SHERLOCK! (again, I did NOT say this out loud but I thought it REALLY loud!)

Apparently the genius diagnosis was not enough for Dr. Reddy- "just to be sure", he said, "let's do a colonoscopy!"

Oh joy of joys! Anyone who know anything about this knows that "The Prep is the Worst!". So, Dr. Reddy, having a grand sense of humor, proceeds to tell me ALL about the 6 different "preps". 6 different ways to make yourself poo until you're blue in the face. I chose the, "Drink this with something you hate because you'll never drink it again" prep.

When booking my appointment, I discovered that maybe I shouldn't try to do it 2 days before Thanksgiving. Just a bad idea. Instead I pick the second week in December. Now, there are few things in life that incite the C word (crap) quite like jury duty. I received my first summons to appear during the run of the Miser and decided to postpone. Guess when I was rescheduled for? Yep, you guessed it! The Monday before my torture- I mean test. Being the lazy gal that I am, I decided to put my self in fates hands and hope I was excused on Monday thereby being free to poop on Tuesday.

As fate, life or whatever would have it, I was old by a very nice computer that I need not report until Tuesday at noon. Tuesday at noon was just, coincidentally, the same EXACT time I was to begin the "prep". Really!?!?!? Seriously.

So come Tuesday morning I rush down to the local courthouse to present my case. I explain, ever so nicely, to the Jury Lady that I have a medical appointment tomorrow and can not serve today. I have already postponed but don't know what to do. She politely tells me I am only allowed ONE postponement in a 90 day period. "Yes, I know,"I say, "but I have a (whispered) colonoscopy tomorrow." I tell her I am MORE than willing to come back on Monday or even Thursday but I just can't do it today. Once I tell her that I am willing to be here she gladly postpones me until the following week and as I sail out the door she calls, "Good Luck! Been there! Done that!". Awesome, it's like I've joined some special club.

Now I'm free to begin.... THE PREP!!! Having not eaten anything past midnight I am starving, but know that I'm SOL (so to speak). Choosing to believe Dr. Reddy that I will never again want to drink whatever I choose to put the salty prep in I choose Apple Juice. I already hate apple Juice, so I figured how could it get worse. EWWWWWW.... the only thing worse than apple juice is SALTY apple juice. I bravely chug down bottle number one of the salty-apple cocktail and hunker down to wait.

Having been through something similar before I know to have a good book ready and a pillow by the toilet. You never know when you'll need a nap. :)

Ok... so by now you can kind of figure out what my next 12 hours were like. Suffice it to say... I hate jello and never want to eat it again... Jello is the only "solid" "food" I was allowed that fateful Tuesday. Sigh... the only thing I would recommend to any one unfortunate enough to embark on this journey is this... DON'T but the cheap one-ply toilet paper. Go all out, splurge on the thickest softest 2-ply out there. Trust me on this one. Seriously.

That being done it was time for the test. At 5 am the next morning after trying to sleep with a clenched butthole I was luck enough to drive myself to the hospital. A miscommunication left me without a driver. Don't worry my husband was able to drive me home.

Off I shuffled to the endiscopy ward in my grey sweats, grey nightgown, "Grumpy" sweatshirt and little red hat covering my bed head hair do. I arrived before the doors to the hospital even open, was signed in and set up. I got to change into 2 gowns, one to cover the front and one for the back; how nice of them. Once I was trundled up into the hospital bed and covered with the wonderful warm hospital blankets, the real fun began. Oh I'm sorry, did you think the story was over? Did you think that I didn't have MORE drama for you? Seriously? Have we met?

Ok as many of you may know I HATE needles. Not the sewing kind but the Vampiric- I want your blood- kind. HATE is to soft a term. Loathe. Detest. Abhor! But an IV is required for the procedure. I warn the very sweet nurse about my stupid psychosis, but having had two babies before I figured I could do it.

Apparently not... as the nice nurse put on the rubber thing that restricts your blood flow my whole body went cold and I began to shake- a lot! I kept shaking, and shaking... and shaking. Eventually I have 4- count 'em... 4... nurses trying to give me an IV. I was crying and apologizing and shaking. So cold. Stuttering. At one point I had 8 blankets one me. It took 3 tries to find a vein. My veins are already small, make them dehydrated and scared and they disappear. Once the IV was in the kind nurses gave me a big ol dose of Atavan- make me sleep medicine. I passed out so quickly I don't even remember being rolled out to the procedure. I vaguely recall being pushed out to the car. The first thing I was even remotely aware of was waking up at 4 pm STARVING!!!!!

While the whole process was embarrassing, awful and scary I'm glad I did it. You'll be pleased to know I don't have cancer, Chron's diseases or polyps. I do however, have IBS (duh), internal hemorrhoids and a colon spasm. I also have pictures! I will in an effort to remain friends refrain from sharing those in the forthcoming Christmas cards. SO the mystery of my abdomen still remains somewhat. My Superpoo highway has a roadblock at one point and a couple bumps along the road. According to my Dr. I am supposed to take a strange drug everyday that should help ease traffic, but I'm not so sure about it effectiveness. I don't need the autobahn of intestinal highways either! Look out Metamucil cookies here I come... but that's another story for another day...

I wish you all the best of luck getting some of these images out of your head, but you can't say I didn't warn you.

(As a side note my husband said I was full of shit on that Tuesday and for the first time in my life I could honesty say, "No I'm not!")