Up Yours!......A Colonoscopy Experience.

Do you know what that is, over there on the left?

This is an 8-foot high and 20-foot long replica of a human colon that depicts both healthy tissue and colon disease.

Why am I showing it?

Because I have just been through a Colonoscopy and for me, a person who has only been in hospital a couple of times (1952 and 1998) in his 64-year life, I perceived and treated it as a daunting experience.

So I thought I'd lay out what I really experienced over the three days leading up to  and including C-hour on C-Day and possibly help someone who might be as concerned as I was.

Here we go then, day by day.......................

C-Day Minus 2.

My procedure (that's its official name - the "Procedure") was set for a Tuesday afternoon. Therefore the Preparation Phase (my emphasis) commenced on the Sunday prior to C-Day.

This first part of the preparation was the easiest: Starting on the Sunday morning  and continuing until I went to bed I was able to eat as much of what I liked from a restricted diet.

No meat, no milk, (but cheese was allowed), no vegetables, no fruit. No wholemeal bread. Nothing with seeds.

Eggs, white rice, peeled, well-cooked potato, white bread........all okay and, surprise, alcoholic beverages were permitted.

So for breakfast I had grilled cheese on white-bread toast and two cups of black coffee. And I drank several 250ml glasses of fresh water or apple juice during the morning.

Lunch consisted of two slices of white bread, lightly smeared (hardly visible!) with Vegemite, washed down with more glasses of water or fruit juice.

During the afternoon I consumed several cups of weak black (Twinings Earl Grey) tea with a teaspoon of sugar. The cuppas were reinforced by copious amounts of water and glasses of apple juice.

Tea - or "dinner" - was the highlight of the day: Two boiled eggs and a slice of toasted white bread, accompanied by a glass of wine then followed by a glass of apple juice for dessert. Yum!

Of course, all this consumption of liquids resulted in many trips to the toilet and, by the time I went to bed, my kidneys were screaming "ENOUGH!" I don't drink much straight water at the best of times, preferring fruit juices (but something a little more exciting than clear apple), so my system was quite taken aback by all this clear liquid.

The last items to be consumed before bedtime were two Senakote tablets, duly downed with a glass of water.

As I drifted off to sleep I thought that, although I was somewhat bored with drinking water, apple juice and tea, this first day of the preparation was pretty easy. Other than going to bed feeling hungry, the ordeal - if that is the correct term - was very easy to cope with.

However, having to get up and pee four times during the night didn't thrill me and when I woke up at 6:30 on C-Day Minus 1 (Monday) I was dead tired and not looking forward to the next module of the Preparation Phase.

C-Day Minus 1.

Monday dawned for me at about 5:30 AM, as I made my way to the toilet, said goodbye to what seemed like a couple of litres of apple juice and then snuck back to bed for another hour.

When I was being briefed by the specialist's nurse about The Procedure I was asked if it would be possible for me to not go to work on the Monday, to which I responded that yep, that wouldn't be a problem.
The reason she asked was due to the fact that Monday - C-Day Minus 1 - could be really considered as Forming A Close Attachment With The Toilet Day.  Being more than ten seconds away from the throne room was considered to be risky - akin to jumping out of a 'plane with an umbrella, or bungee-jumping using underpants-elastic as the bungee cord.

So when I finally dragged myself out of bed (around 6:30 AM) on this day I was faced with the fact that from here until C-Hour on Tuesday I had to live a life of NO FOOD! Chewing, as we know and love it, was out.

Complying with the printed instructions, I had prepared, on C-Day Minus 2 (Sunday), three separate 1-litre containers of The Stuff.
It's real name I can't recall - CPrep, or something like that.  Whatever, it is the modern equivalent of "C-Stoff", the rocket fuel used by the Nazis to power their V2. The effect is similar.
CPrep comes in a sachet and is mixed with 1 litre of fresh water and then placed in the fridge. I never want to see or taste it again as long as I live.
My wife had, at great expense, gone out that Sunday afternoon and bought three 1-litre plastic containers of orange juice, which were decanted into a standard 3-litre container, just so that I could have three 1-litre bottles for The Stuff.
(Note: three 1-litre containers of orange juice costs twice as much as a 3-litre container of the same product from the same manufacturer).

The morning was spent drinking "approved fluids".
These consisted of water, clear fruit juices (apple, in my case), black tea or coffee, clear consomme (chicken stock in my case), water, juice, water, tea..........ad infinitum.
By early afternoon, if I  moved I gurgled, like a water bed.

At 1430 hours (I'm introducing a military theme here) I was required to commence consumption of 1 litre of The Stuff and it was emphasised that I should consume 250ml every 15 minutes. If I felt sick then it was permissible for me to slow down the intake but I still had to down that 1 litre of fluid.

Now, let me explain that The Stuff had/has a slight citrus taste - possibly lemon - but there is an under-taste of Medicinal Chemicals.
After two glasses I really felt like gagging so I had a glass of apple juice in between doses of The Stuff.
I must pat myself on the back here and say that within the hour I had done my duty and all of that 1-litre of The Stuff had gone down my gullet. Fair enough, there were many chasers of apple juice and water, but I had got rid of one bottle. Two to go.

The information on the sachet said that bowel movements may commence between an hour and three hours, depending on the metabolism  of the victim subject.
Mine started about 32 seconds after I downed that last 250ml. Thank God I was less than a minute from our portal to Canberra's sewerage system.

Suffice to say that the rest of Monday morning was spent between the kitchen (where the refrigerated Stuff was located) and the smallest room in the house.

At 1800 hours I had to start drinking the contents of the second 1-litre container and drink as many glasses of "approved fluids" as I could.
By this time my taste buds were rebelling - The Stuff was making me nauseated with every swallow and I really had to force myself to drink it. But I managed and, again within that hour, I had knocked off the 1-litre container, aided by many additional glasses of apple juice.

By eight o'clock that night I had had it with liquids. All I wanted was to chew something.....anything. My teeth were feeling neglected.
I had also completed three crossword puzzles whilst passing the time in the loo and had gone through almost a full roll of two-ply quilted, embossed, softer-than-gossamer toilet paper and my rear end was feeling as if I'd been using sand-paper. I had also become sick of the smell of the air-freshener.
Not that it was needed by that time in the evening; all I was passing then was water.

I went to bed on Monday night feeling drained. Pun well and truly intended.
I also felt hungry and wanted something to taste that wasn't either sweet (juice) or bland (water). But most of all I did NOT want to drink the final 1-litre of The Stuff, which I was due to consume between 0700 and 0800 the next morning - C-day.

C-Day! 9 Hours and counting........

During the night I was up and down again.....all those "approved fluids", together with the 2-litres of Draino For Humans, had a sleep-disturbing effect.

Just before dawn I had a strange, and very clear, dream. I was in a queue in a cafe, making my selection for lunch and when I was served I asked the (faceless) girl behind the counter for a ham, cheese and tomato omelette, with salad.

I could see it and it looked exactly like those photos you see in cookery books....all appetising and delectable and beautifully presented.

The strange thing was that when I asked the price she said "Eight lettuce-leaves"!

So there I was, counting out lettuce-leaves to buy this mouth-watering omelette. Then I woke up and reality faced me; today was C-Day!

The first order of the day was that at 0700 I was to commence drinking the third 1-litre container of Stuff. To be perfectly frank, I was dreading that. Not because I was fearful of the consequences - after all, I had spent all day Monday wearing a pathway to the toilet. No, it was  the taste that put me off completely.

However, I gritted my teeth and downed the first glassful of the ghastly liquid and, twenty minutes later, did the same with the second 250 millilitres. Of course, in between these two doses I visited the little room several times.

Within the prescribed hour the liquid was gone........all of it inside me and by that time it was virtually coming straight out again.

The relief that I felt at 0800, knowing that I did not have to take The Stuff any more, was considerable. From that point on it was just "approved fluids" until 1130, when all consumption had to stop.

So breakfast consisted of several glasses of water and apple juice, as did morning tea.

Along the way I was still getting constant exercise by walking between where-ever I was at the time and the toilet. Crossword puzzles were being completed at a rapid - if disjointed - pace and shares in Kimberley-Clark were sky-rocketing as stocks of toilet tissue reduced dramatically.

The morning passed uneventfully and at 1120 I had my last glass of water. From now until after The Procedure, nothing would enter my body. Plenty would continue to depart, but nothing was allowed in.....well, apart from The Probe, of course.

Probe minus about 1 hour.

Other than irregular visits to the toilet, the rest of the day, up to 1500, was drama-free. My system by this time was devoid of everything; it was as clean as a brand new bit of plumbing.

Just prior to going off to the hospital I weighed myself and was startled to see that I had lost almost 5kg over the two-and-a-half days since starting the restricted diet on Sunday morning.

At 1530 I presented myself for admission and then passed from reception into the care of a nurse, who told me what the process would be for The Procedure.

I was shown to a curtained-off bed where I stripped to a T-shirt and then donned a disposable surgical gown, open at the back. I lay down on a mobile bed, placed a warmed cotton blanket over me and waited for the nurse to come and check my blood pressure.

When she did so she advised that the anaesthetist would soon come in and place a cannula in a vein on the back of my right hand and then I'd be wheeled into The Room and that the next time we spoke I'd be back where I currently was, without any memory of being Probed. Yeah...sure, I thought to myself.

But she was 100% correct.

The cannula was duly popped into my hand, I was wheeled into the room where official Probing was carried out. I was asked my name, why I was there, who my doctor was and then asked to roll onto my left side.  The anesthetist stuck a tube into the cannula and then the nurse said to me "Well, how are you feeling? Would you like a cup of tea or coffee and some sandwiches?"

Probe plus 30 minutes......

Huh?!

It was as if I just blinked and more than 30 minutes went by in that tiny moment in time.

There was no pain, no discomfort, no strange feelings, no nausea. One second I was on my left side about to have tubes inserted into me and a split second later I was on my left side being asked if I wanted refreshments.

As I was eating a sandwich - and I can't recall what was on it and didn't really care, because it was solid food - the gastroenterology guy came to say that everything was fine. One tiny polyp was removed. That was it.

In summary, The Procedure itself was an anti-climax.

The process is so straight-forward and drama-free that, in hindsight, I can honestly say that I would prefer to have that actual process done than have a tooth filled. Truly.

For me, the worst part was the preparation, the two days of restricted diet centred around the process of flushing out the digestive system.

I will never voluntarily drink that stuff again because I just could not stand the taste. I can still taste it.

Perhaps most people would find it quite okay and would deal with the 3-litres better than I could but all I know is that I would prefer the option (which I found out whilst eating the sandwiches afterwards), which is many tablets consumed with much fresh water. That I could stand.

For anyone either contemplating a colonoscopy as part of a regular checkup, or who might be required to have one in order to investigate a problem, don't be alarmed or put off by the actual thought of having your nether regions probed by people wielding exotic power tools.

It's the Preparation Phase which you should avoid at all costs - unless you like citrus-flavoured drain cleaner.