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For the curious, yesterday's colonoscopy went just fine, I am apparently clean as any meat-based whistle.
Anyone who doesn't want to hear about it should stop reading here. This is mainly for my own edification anyway.
I drank 2 liters of laxative over the course of 2 hours yesterday and by the time they went in I was as empty as Highway 5 at 2 a.m. during a truckers' strike. They put me on a drip I.V. and gave me some kind of sedative that made me mellow but not particularly out of touch with reality. In addition to the surgeon, there were three nurses, my wife, and my wife's uncle who is a tenured resident at the hospital.
They had a 32" widescreen monitor for the tour, and after a cursory glance I decided emphatically that I didn't really need to watch any of that. My wife, as a nurse, was interested in taking the whole tour so good on her. They got all the way up to the entrance of the small colon and then slowly backed their way out taking pictures all the way. I've got a lovely set of glossy pictures of shiny pink flesh that I've only glanced at fleetingly. I can watch horror movies, but can't watch documentaries on surgery, so it comes as no surprise that I'm fearful of viewing my own guts. Call it a shortcoming.
As they backed out and took the pictures, they kept adding gas to inflate the tract, and I think my whole tube probably looked like some kind of balloon party animal. When they were done and nearly finished they said "You're probably feeling a lot of pressure, so feel free to let it out."
"What?"
"There's a lot of air in you; we pressurized the region so we could take pictures. You can just relax and let it out."
"You want me to fart on you?"
(Everyone laughs) "It's just air, and we put it there, so go ahead and just make yourself comfortable."
"I don't think it's possible for me to intentionally fart on people who are being nice to me," and have expensive electronics embedded in my hindquarters, I failed to add. They continued to encourage me, and I just wouldn't do that to them.
On the last stage they said, "There's a polyp here, but that's generally pretty normal and it doesn't have any signs of malignancy. Do you want to sample it for a biopsy?" Well, yeah. Since I'm here, completely cleaned out, five years overdue from my last examination, and you've already got the bat-cable up there, just go ahead and send the batarang or whatever and let's make sure I'm free from cancer for sure. SNIP. So that's gone off for testing, and I'll hear back on that.
They finished and finally let me and my balloon animal in the shape of a colon off the table. I visited the head, changed clothes, and left for a nice trip filling the remainder of the afternoon with my wife.
As I've mentioned, my Dad had colon cancer and they caught it late. They took quite a bit of cancerous tissue from him that was bigger than a softball, and between the colostomy bag and the chemo I think it was one of the most traumatic things he dealt with in life. He never entirely recovered, as his digestive tract was a constant source of pain, irritation, and frustration until he died.
So my nervousness preceding the procedure was pretty epic. I'd been sleeping poorly and my stomach had been upset. My stomach problems further convinced me they were going to find something. I may have had residual angst over it, as last night I woke up every hour from 02:30 onward until waking up.
It wasn't too bad. I'll have to do it again next year and every year since I've got the genetic predisposition for trouble.
Anyone who doesn't want to hear about it should stop reading here. This is mainly for my own edification anyway.
I drank 2 liters of laxative over the course of 2 hours yesterday and by the time they went in I was as empty as Highway 5 at 2 a.m. during a truckers' strike. They put me on a drip I.V. and gave me some kind of sedative that made me mellow but not particularly out of touch with reality. In addition to the surgeon, there were three nurses, my wife, and my wife's uncle who is a tenured resident at the hospital.
They had a 32" widescreen monitor for the tour, and after a cursory glance I decided emphatically that I didn't really need to watch any of that. My wife, as a nurse, was interested in taking the whole tour so good on her. They got all the way up to the entrance of the small colon and then slowly backed their way out taking pictures all the way. I've got a lovely set of glossy pictures of shiny pink flesh that I've only glanced at fleetingly. I can watch horror movies, but can't watch documentaries on surgery, so it comes as no surprise that I'm fearful of viewing my own guts. Call it a shortcoming.
As they backed out and took the pictures, they kept adding gas to inflate the tract, and I think my whole tube probably looked like some kind of balloon party animal. When they were done and nearly finished they said "You're probably feeling a lot of pressure, so feel free to let it out."
"What?"
"There's a lot of air in you; we pressurized the region so we could take pictures. You can just relax and let it out."
"You want me to fart on you?"
(Everyone laughs) "It's just air, and we put it there, so go ahead and just make yourself comfortable."
"I don't think it's possible for me to intentionally fart on people who are being nice to me," and have expensive electronics embedded in my hindquarters, I failed to add. They continued to encourage me, and I just wouldn't do that to them.
On the last stage they said, "There's a polyp here, but that's generally pretty normal and it doesn't have any signs of malignancy. Do you want to sample it for a biopsy?" Well, yeah. Since I'm here, completely cleaned out, five years overdue from my last examination, and you've already got the bat-cable up there, just go ahead and send the batarang or whatever and let's make sure I'm free from cancer for sure. SNIP. So that's gone off for testing, and I'll hear back on that.
They finished and finally let me and my balloon animal in the shape of a colon off the table. I visited the head, changed clothes, and left for a nice trip filling the remainder of the afternoon with my wife.
As I've mentioned, my Dad had colon cancer and they caught it late. They took quite a bit of cancerous tissue from him that was bigger than a softball, and between the colostomy bag and the chemo I think it was one of the most traumatic things he dealt with in life. He never entirely recovered, as his digestive tract was a constant source of pain, irritation, and frustration until he died.
So my nervousness preceding the procedure was pretty epic. I'd been sleeping poorly and my stomach had been upset. My stomach problems further convinced me they were going to find something. I may have had residual angst over it, as last night I woke up every hour from 02:30 onward until waking up.
It wasn't too bad. I'll have to do it again next year and every year since I've got the genetic predisposition for trouble.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 06:32 am (UTC)Glad you're all good to go!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 06:48 am (UTC)That was 2 years ago...
no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 08:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 08:38 am (UTC)Well, I'm glad that's over.
Date: 2009-09-03 12:53 pm (UTC)Also, when you finally had your moment of alone time, was it a truly epic fart or what? Inquiring minds and all...
Re: Well, I'm glad that's over.
Date: 2009-09-03 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 02:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 05:17 pm (UTC)Yay for fine non-cancerousness!
Now, then...where's my photographic evidence? I TOLD YOU I NEED IT FOR MY EXPERIMENTS.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-05 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-05 01:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-05 02:38 am (UTC)