Gearing Up for the Great Gut Adventure: My First Colonoscopy Journey (I’m 50!!!)

 

Alright! Sooooo, it's time to dive deep—literally—into the thrilling world of preventive healthcare with a tale of my first colonoscopy. Yep, you read that right! As someone who thought the most adventurous I’d get this year was learning to roller-skate, I geared up for what might just be the wildest ride yet. Let's talk about what it's like to prep for a colonoscopy when your main source of information (and anxiety) is none other than Dr. Google. Not wanting my daughter to know that I am seriously anxious, I did not want to ask her too many questions beyond what she told me. Hence, I turned to Dr. Google. Go figure!

Step 1: The Google Spiral

The journey began as all modern medical journeys do: with a frantic Google search. From medical advice to horror stories, I found everything I wasn't looking for! Did you know there are over a million hits for "colonoscopy experiences"? Neither did I, and guess what—I read a lot of them. My key takeaway? Maybe don’t read the comment section at 2 AM. And definitely be okay with asking your daughter more questions because you know she would not have minded.

Step 2: Decoding the Prep Kit

After I was emailed the infamous colonoscopy prep kit, I realized I had entered a whole new world of dietary restrictions. The list of instructions could rival "War and Peace" in complexity and emotional turmoil. The goal here is clear: turn your digestive system into a sparkling clean slip-n-slide. Yay, science! 

Step 3: The Last Supper

The day before the procedure, I had my “last supper”—which, unfortunately, wasn't as grand as it sounds. My menu was limited to clear liquids. Ever tried to satisfy your hunger with clear liquids? Ordinarily, I would not have been so hungry even if I did not eat my plants. The hunger was compounded by the toilet activity. It was as joyful as trying to knit with noodles. And! I was weak in the knees and the buttocks.

Step 4: The Long Night

Well! The night wore on with me having a more personal relationship with the toilet and the shower than ever before. It was a “Go-and-wash” all-nighter. Five hours before I was due to be at the hospital for my 7AM appointment, it was time to drink my magnesium citrate, an experience I approached with the enthusiasm of a cat heading to a bubble bath. Let's just say that it's the lemon-lime I did not ask for. Hours passed, and I got to know my bathroom décor more intimately. I would rate the experience a solid 5/7—perfectly effective but unlikely to be repeated for fun. At one time, I felt the heat rush through my body, and my eyes got almost sightless. I was about to pass out on the toilet! Breathe, girl, breathe.

Step 5: Game Day

The morning of the colonoscopy, I arrived at the hospital walking as a cockroach just newly sprayed with Raid, but with my game face on. I sat in the waiting room with my huzzy-buzzy Jerry and I reflected on my journey: the anxiety, the preparation, the bathroom marathon—had it prepared me for the procedure? Absolutely. I was ready to conquer the colonoscopy with the gusto of a seasoned explorer. Well, I was not the one who will be exploring! When my name was called, Jerry reminded me that it was going to be alright and that he’ll be there. I had text messages and voice notes from my children cheering me on and praying for me. I walked through double doors that whooshed open like the earlier stage of my toilet marathon. The nurse who walked me to my prep room was round and pleasant. She did the handoff like a pro! The nurses in my prep room were pleasant and efficient as they verified information, told me how to put on my new open-in-the-back dress, and generally helped me get ready.

Gone Diving: Prep to Procedure

The transition from prep room to procedure room felt a bit like embarking on the exploration. Why do I keep referring to this as an ‘exploration’? After the rigorous prep, it was finally time to navigate the waters of the actual procedure.

Before leaving the prep room, the doctor came over to have one final chat. This was the moment to ask any lingering questions that my late-night Google sessions hadn't managed to answer. With a calm and reassuring tone, he explained and reassured me that everything was going to be alright. His confidence was comforting, and a gentle reminder of why these procedures are more about prevention and less about intervention.

As I was wheeled into the procedure room, I couldn't help but notice how it resembled a high-tech underwater cave filled with modern medical equipment rather than stalactites. The room was brightly lit, with monitors lined up displaying various graphs and numbers—a stark contrast to the dimly lit, cozy corners of my own home where I had spent the last few hours preparing.

The nurses in the room were like seasoned divers, ready to navigate the depths. Ooops! Here I go again! They were incredibly professional, moving with purpose and precision but also with a warmth that kept the atmosphere light. One of them told me I would feel a "slight, slight sting" from the oxygen—a fair warning that felt more like a warming than a sting when it actually happened.

I was then instructed to lie on my left side, with my left leg straight and my right leg bent at a 45-degree angle on top of it—a position that felt oddly specific but was designed to give the doctor the best possible access for the colonoscopy. As I settled into position, the gentle hum of machines and the soft shuffling of the nurses' feet were oddly reassuring. The room, with its array of medical gadgets and attentive staff, felt less like a clinical setting and more like a launchpad for my exploratory mission into health and prevention. The final moments before the sedation took effect were a blur of gentle voices and the soft beep of monitors—like the distant pings of sonar from a submarine. I must have fallen asleep.

 

Post-Procedure: The Relief

“Andrea, it’s time to wake up, honey.” It was over, and I was back in the prep room which was now my recovery room (I think). The procedure itself was the easiest part, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine and sedation. That prep, though? Hmmm. Waking up from that deep sleep to hear that everything went well was the best part. When the doctor came into the room and told me the results, my “Praise the Lord” was decisive and confident. “Thank you.” I told the doctor. All my fears, fueled by late-night Google sessions, seemed quite insignificant in the post-procedure light.

Some Final Thoughts

So, what have I learned from my colonoscopy adventure? First, Google is a double-edged sword. Second, preparation is key—even if it involves the less-than-desirable potions, etc. And third, the anticipation is definitely worse than the procedure itself. If you’re gearing up for your first colonoscopy, remember that it’s not just a medical procedure; it's a rite of passage into proactive health management. Embrace the journey—prep, procedure, and all—and your future self will thank you!

#preventivehealth #colonoscopy #googlesearch #google #medicalprocedure #proactive