Ever had a colonoscopy? Want one? Niether did I!

This is Debbie and her darling Hammer yesterday morning.  It was my date with destiny for the colonoscopy, which I had fought tooth and nail for years.  As luck would have it they had driven in the night before from Longton to attend a funeral in Pueblo.  Picked the one day of my life when I was not allowed to eat anything, thus I was not cooking.

This is my daughter Patty who had driven in from Lakin, Kansas specifically to take care of me during the time I would be incapacitated, and to drive me to and from the hospital.  So, I was in good hands.

If you have ever had this procedure, you will recall that visiting on the night before was a challenge at the very best.  They did fend for themselves in the eating department, which I think means they probably did not eat.

Now let me just go on record here as saying at no point in time did I ever WANT a colonoscopy, but some where along the line it became a power struggle between my doctor, who shall remain nameless,  and me.  I had a perfect doctor before him.  Dr. Riechert.  I never seen him.  If I had a problem, which is rare, I called and he fixed me up.  Silly stuff like poison ivy, pleurisy, and the occasional renewal of the thyroid prescription.  But, unfortunately, he took better care of me than he did himself and after his demise, I was on the hunt for a new doctor.  Enter Dr. Nameless.

Since he was now the man who was in charge of my health care, I thought I should at least meet him.  So I made the appointment and we met in his office, both of us fully clothed.  Nursie took my vitals and he checked the chart when he came in.  The following conversation ensued.
"So are you in any pain?"
"No, not a bit."
"I see you have high cholesterol.  I will give you Lipitor."
"I tried it once.  Didn't like it.  Like the high cholesterol better."
"You do not need a pap smear.  Do you want a colonoscopy?"
"Do I look like I want a colonoscopy?"
"Why are you here?"
"I am here because you are my new doctor and if perchance I end up flat on my back in the ER, I want you to be able to say, 'Oh, I know her.  She is my patient.'  I require very little maintenance, but I do need a family doctor."

Thus began our patient/doctor relationship, which over the years included one pap smear, and several referrals for the mammogram (which was invented by a frustrated husband some where) every year or so.  He did finally talk me into Zetia for the cholesterol problem, which I managed to tolerate for almost 2 years.  But the colon business was just a formality of "Do you want a colonoscopy?"  "Do I look like I want one?"  In all fairness, I felt rather sorry for him trying to doctor someone who does not want doctored.  Finally he asked if I would do the "poop test" and since that was non invasive, I agreed.  Now this is where my life spiraled out of my control, so listen and learn.

Nobody told me, do not eat red meat for 4 days before you do the test.  Nobody told me, do not eat beets or anything red.  And since I eat damn near anything except cooked apples, I ingested probably anything that crossed my path prior to the "taking of the sample with a paint brush".  (Playing in my poop is not something I normally do just for the record)!

To make a long story short, of course it came back positive.  Of course I was going to have a colonoscopy.  My insurance insisted on that.  So that is what I did yesterday.  Now I am here to tell you that Sunday I was not allowed to eat food and could only have clear liquids.  Eating is my passion and I did not enjoy that at all!  Sunday night was the worst experience of my life.  I had to drink a gallon of the most foul stuff I have ever encountered in my years of drinking and I have downed some pretty gross stuff on my way to a good drunk (if there is such a thing as a good drunk).

Now, I am happy to report that I passed with flying colors, and have two pages of pictures showing nothing but the cleanest colon in town.  My kitchen floor should be so clean!  My friend stopped to see me on my way into the hospital and decided I looked "fit" and after work came by to reassure himself that I had indeed survived and was amazed that I showed no signs of being any worse for the wear.  I tried to look pathetic, but could not pull it off because I had to laugh at him.  Bless his heart.

So in closing, let me tell you this... if you find yourself facing this, not to worry.  It is a piece of cake.  If you survive the night before you can survive anything.  And so I can continue my march down or up the road with that behind me and when I see the doctor again, I shall remind him that I am one of the healthiest old ladies he will ever encounter and not to make me take any more tests!