Tuesday brought a trip back to the hospital for another colonoscopy. It was all a bit less daunting than last time out, since fear of the unknown was gone. The prep for the procedure gets no less unpleasant: without going into the gory details, it involves a total purge.
The initial registration process was all the normal stuff: taking blood pressure and pulse, advising the risks (only a 1 in 1,000 chance of your colon tearing!), and being asked if you mind a hungover medical student sticking a hose up your backside. And with that I walked to the recovery room and changed into another very flattering hospital gown. In a typically English way I was told to leave on my shoes and socks. Everything else chucked into a carrier bag, with the nod of approval from the staff nurse that I had neatly folded all my clothes.
Being a bit of a chicken, I had ticked the box for "sedation, yes please, do whatever is needed to take my mind off it", and so I got needle-sticked for yet another cannula line. The nurse was a bit quick off the mark, and I sprayed O+ all over the floor. Not to worry, several more pints from where that came from. And then I waited. And waited some more. Still, the staff nurse was a lovely woman, and we chatted about all manner of nonsense.
Waiting in hospitals is now no issue to me whatsoever. Sometimes things go on time, sometimes they don't, and to be honest, there are a lot of sick people knocking about that probably need more urgent attention than me. After a delay of approximately 40 mins, the lead clinician appeared and introduced herself. She asked if I minded going off to a side room for a chat. Sounded innocent enough, patient privacy and all that. However, there is a small corner of my brain now acutely attuned to such requests, and all I hear is "do you mind coming to this side room, I have news to impart that will mentally smack you to the ground and feel like a tank is backing up over you." However, not for the first time, my pessimism was unfounded. It was simply a case of them reviewing the file again, and still being undecided whether they actually needed to do another colonoscopy to gather any more information. Totally reasonable. She also made the comment that I was rather young to be going through all this. I replied "yeah, sometimes life can be a right shitter." She glumly nodded in agreement.
I went back out and waited a short while longer, and then the clinician came back to say it was a go, and apologised for the delay. All good. The colorectal specialist nurse from my initial visit was also there (she had been the one reviewing my notes to make the call). I was walked off to the treatment room, carrier bag of clothes in hand. 3 more faces greeted me, all about half my age. The student on training day looked up from his computer, probably finishing off a game of Call of Duty or something. I am glad to report 1) he didn't look hungover at all and 2) he looked like a proper doctor, he even had a white coat and a name badge. I did glance about to see if anyone was carrying a bucket and mop. Nope.
So on with the show. After ascertaining I was who I purported to be, and they all agreed which end the tube was being inserted, I got sedated and we got started. Last time around the sedation knocked me out, this time I was fully awake, but felt little to no discomfort, save for the doctor taking one wrong turn (Oh! You mean MY right.). The whole thing was displayed on a huge colour monitor, right by the bed, and given I was laying on my side, facing the screen, I was watching it. Well, I was trying not to, it is not for the faint-hearted: think Millennium Falcon flying slowly through that giant space slug in Episode V, just a lot redder. The whole shebang took maybe 35 minutes, but it passed quickly, since I was chatting to the doctors and nurses the whole time.
I was walked back to the recovery room, got changed, and then got offered tea and biscuits. The biscuits were the first thing I had eaten for about 27 hours, and became probably only the solid matter in my stomach. They tasted magnificent. I then got presented with my post-procedure report. Amongst the medical speak were some fantastic snippets: "Anus: Normal" well, that is a huge relief
"The quality of bowel-preparation was excellent" gold star and lollipop to the gaunt lanky man in the corner.
And with that I was allowed to go home.
As a final, Charley Says, comment, if you are in the age range where it is recommended you have a colonoscopy, there is no good reason to prevaricate. There is nothing to be scared of, but there is plenty to be gained. If I could go back 2 or 3 years, I would certainly be heading to my doctor. A friend sent me a note the other day saying a number of our group have been making appointments. If even one of them catches something early as a result of my circumstances, then it's worth it.