He came up behind me, breathing softly. My thick hair flowed down to the opening of my gown where my ripe, curvy bottom was fully exposed to him, the hummingbird tattoo on my left hip flying free as a banner of body autonomy. As he stepped close to me, his excitement was palpable.
“You are rushing in where wise men fear to tread,” I said.
He smiled. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Then I woke up in recovery and the colonoscopy was over.
March is Colon Cancer Awareness Month
I had my first ever colonoscopy a couple of weeks ago and, well, it was kind of disgusting. But since I annually advocate for March is Colon Cancer Awareness Month, I think I owe it to you to share my experience and, I hope, encourage anyone who’s been avoiding it to GET IT DONE.
Why You Should Schedule a Colonoscopy ASAP
I’ll make it simple. IT CAN SAVE YOUR LIFE. Colorectal cancer is one of the most common causes of cancer deaths in the U.S. It doesn’t have to be that way.
The American Cancer Society estimates that about 1 in 21 men and 1 in 23 women in the United States will develop colorectal cancer during their lifetime.
It is the second leading cause of cancer death in women, and the third for men. However, due to advances in screening techniques and improvements in treatments, the death rate from colorectal cancer has been falling.
The good news is that this form of cancer has been dropping in older people. Maybe it’s because their primary physicians ride them hard to get screened (at least based on the numerous concerned calls I received from my doctor’s office). Unfortunately, a large percentage of the over-50 set procrastinate out of fear or embarrassment.
But there is some worrying news: recent research shows that colorectal cancer is on the rise among people under 50. No one is sure why, though some are linking it to our national obsession with fast foods. But the tragic passing of talented actor, Chadwick Bosemen should be a wake-up call to men in their 20s, 30s, and 40s who had never even considered getting screened. It breaks my heart someone so young died when early detection might have spared his life.
He is not alone: thousands of lives can be saved with this critical test.
Like a lot of people, I avoided the screening for years. Why? The ick factor, mainly. But my new doctor wasn’t having it. When they suggested I could try Cologuard, I procrastinated like a little bitch, staring sullenly at the box every time I passed it. But I finally pooped into their weird poop trap and bottled some up, feeling it was still better than going in for a colonoscopy and that, as a Health and Wellness person, I needed to normalize poop checks because I’m getting old! I felt like it was over and done.
My emotional temperature shifted when the doctor’s office called me the next week.
“Your test came back positive,” my doctor’s office told me. “We need to schedule you for a colonoscopy.”
Well, damn. What if I had cancer? I Googled like the mad researcher I am and took some small comfort in knowing there are false positives with fecal collection tests. Still, once that test is positive, you have to look deeper in case of genuine cancer risk. That is the whole point — detecting colorectal cancer in its earliest stage and removing potential malignancies.
Colonoscopy Prep
Polyps are a classic problem in aging bodies — 30% of people over 50 get them. (Read “What to know about different types of colon polyps” for facts and figures). Until modern medicine, we had no solution. Now we do. I’ll also note that most polyps are benign. But if you have the kind that is pre-cancerous you may not have any significant symptoms to warn you that you’re in urgent need of screening. The only way to know for sure is to get screened and find out.
If only it had been a kink scene, it would have been so much more enjoyable. At the time, I thought, “Just lean into it. Accept pain or discomfort, don’t analyze it, don’t fear it, flow with it.” I got through some root canals that way a few years ago and the results were surprisingly fabulous.
I started prepping 24 hours before my procedure. The home prep is standard and definitely the worst part of the experience.
While my Nurse Practitioner had assured me that medical researchers have worked hard to improve the taste in the last decade, the prep fluid still tastes like someone flushed a carburetor with rose water and bottled it. And that’s being generous. The active ingredient is polyethylene glycol and it tastes like what it is — a polymer — albeit with low toxicity and proven benefits in a wide range of applications, from toothpaste to sex lubes. I followed an Internet MD’s advice and drank it in big gulps. Sipping it would have made me throw up.
My technique on drinking the drank: take a deep breath and hold it to block my nose and swallow as much as possible, then quickly stick a hard candy in my mouth, to mitigate that awful aftertaste. I was able to get my drink down 4-5 ounces at a time without gagging or puking, which are common reactions to the drink.
There was comfort in doing it at home, with easy access to a familiar bathroom. I was seldom so grateful for our cheap toilet bidet. Google told me to expect a raw and irritated ass, and some advised slathering on Preparation-H while the shit storm raged. Instead, I used my warm-water bidet and let it run generously to clean thoroughly. Victory: zero rawness.
(An observed personal bonus: I have intense food aversions, and the taste of something that doesn’t agree with my mouth can make me gag for months. Oddly, the taste of the colon-cleanse was gone after a few hours. I can remember it tasted like hyena ass but now I can’t remember what that hyena ass actually tasted. Not eager to find out again, either.)
Next, I prepared myself for a tsunami of poo which meant having quick access to the bathroom. Again, home toilet trumps any other toilet. I once had a pre-surgical enema at a hospital and it was much nightmarish. This was cozy by comparison. I knew what to expect, I brought my phone to the bathroom, and I let shit happen for as long as it needed to happen in private. On some pervy level, I felt almost jolly to be voiding whatever crap might be in my gut and took an odd pleasure when clear fluid flowed out, knowing I would trot a sparkly clean ass into the doctor’s office the next morning.
It was for my own good, I told myself. This was me taking care of my body and keeping myself alive as long as possible. It was important also to family and friends who aren’t ready to lose me. It was just a thing I had to do, no more and no less and there was no point moaning about it.
Day of the Anal Invasion
Colonoscopy has become a routine procedure. My doctor told me he’s performed 5000 of them without a single complication. Indeed, he had it down to an art. You come in, you sign your life away, they take you into the back, you sign your life away some more, they take your vitals, hand you a gown and give you a bag to put your clothes into. Then you lie back on a wheeled bed and they roll you to the surgery room, where people once again ask personal questions and describe what will happen. After the nurses ask you to repeat the same information, the anesthesiologist asks you to repeat it all over again and explains the drugs you’re getting (great drugs, in case you’re interested, as I was).
By the time they attach painless sticky pads and clips to you, you don’t care who sees your ass or what they’re going to do to it. I didn’t notice when or how they got the IV drip in my hand. In fact, I felt cheerful about all the attention they were giving me. Then the doctor appeared and stood behind me, ready to ply his craft while I smiled dreamily.
Then I woke up back in my curtained nook, on the rolling bed but with no equipment attached, and no memory of the procedure. The last thing I could recall was the doctor asking me if I was ready.
Standing up to get back into my clothes, my brain felt fuzzy, but my body felt pretty great. I didn’t expect that. The whole visit took, start to finish, took an hour and a half. I’ve spent more time waiting for a family medicine clinic to see me than it took to prep me, screen me, and get me back out the door.
The nurses told me the doctor found and removed a suspicious polyp. They handed me garish photos of my colon (a souvenir I shall not treasure) and I went home to wait for the biopsy results. I read online that some people have cramps and other gastric issues after a colonoscopy. I had no after-effects at all, except great ones: I felt a little lighter (lost a few pounds during the purge, so that explains why), but also refreshed on the inside. That was it. I went back to work that afternoon.
A few days later, a nurse called to say there were no cancer cells in my polyp, and they’d see me in five years. Well yay! Now my colon is probably healthier than it’s been in years owing to the cleanse and snipped polyp. Next time, I won’t procrastinate.
If you’ve been putting it off, dreading the (admittedly gross) drink, or worried that this procedure is dangerous, I hope this will help you clench your jaw and make an appointment now, knowing that the prep may be unpleasant, but the procedure and recovery are easy IF YOU FOLLOW DOCTOR’S INSTRUCTIONS.
Did I mention that? Don’t cheat on your prep. It will turn into a shitty situation. This gem of a conversation I had with a nurse who prepped me says it all (100% real!)
Nurse: Did you follow our directions?
Me: Yep, to a T — fasting, nothing after midnight, I tried to be fastidious.
Nurse: Wow, good! And you drank both bottles?
Me: Yeah. Gross. But I feel clean as a whistle.
Nurse. Oh good.
Me: . . .
Nurse (lowers voice): I think a lot of people cheat and don’t do the prep.
Me (a sex therapist who knows a thing or two about non-compliant patients): I bet.
Nurse (whispers): A lot of them are just full of shit. Sometimes, there’s shit everywhere.
I’m still laughing. I’m also wondering if the people most likely to have pain or discomfort afterward cheated on their prep and made it harder for the doctor to examine them. I literally had no complaints about any aspect of the procedure except for the afore-mentioned taste of the vile potion. Maybe next time I’ll pretend it’s a witches’ brew guaranteed to ensure my longevity and is, therefore, a test of my courage! That is so much more romantic than getting your ass screened for cancer.
Bottom line: Get it done, friend. Make that appointment you’ve been dreading, and kick cancer in the ASS!
Grateful shout-out to the amazing crew at Athens Gastroenterology Association, whose kindness and professionalism made the experience easy.
Have concerns about your sexual health? You can always talk to a sexologist before you see an M.D. about any aspect of sexual and anal health. My virtual office is always open.
