– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist – - Over sharing…it’s what I do

– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist –

I have often been told, more than once, that I tend to “over share” information. This column is a prime example of just that.

I recently experienced my first ever colonoscopy.

A colonoscopy is a medical procedure, involving an endoscopic examination of the large intestine and a portion of the small intestine. The exam is performed by a doctor, using a fiber optic camera, mounted at one end of a long flexible tube and passed internally through the anus.

Yep, more of a graphic, detailed explanation than you really bargained on. That’s some of where the over sharing part comes in.

This particular procedure is not one normally talked about in polite company or during casual conversation, but the process actually fascinated me, so I thought sharing my experience might help alleviate any anxiety or apprehension someone, approaching an impending rectal exam, may have.

I Googled everything I could find on the subject and even watched a few YouTube videos, featuring actual doctors describing the stages, step-by-step. I have to say, these power point presentations weren’t nearly as comforting as I had hoped. I would also like to point out that every individual’s body is unique and reacts differently to any procedure.

The first step to get started, is to drink two liters of a prep solution. It’s available for purchase at most pharmacies and comes in a huge jug. The day before the procedure, I was allowed two scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, then only liquids the remainder of the day, which included tea, coffee, broth or lemon-lime Gatorade, as well as water.

I could consume as much of these liquids as I wanted, but only until midnight, then, no water even. (Barbaric practice.)

According to reports, the prep solution was nasty tasting and I was dreading that. My only grievance, surprisingly, was the solution tasted too sweet. The morning routine, before the procedure, was mixing the solution with water and adding a lemon-flavored packet, included with the jug. I had an issue with that immediately, since I didn’t have a pitcher large enough to hold that much liquid. (Two liters is roughly eight and a half cups.)

The next hurdle, was the enormous jug wouldn’t fit upright in my refrigerator. After some creative finagling, I made it work.

I was surprised I wasn’t ravenous. I started drinking the solution at 5 p.m., expecting to have to sprint to the bathroom, hearing it’s fast-acting. I anticipated such an occurrence and prepared accordingly. I had my phone, charging cord and plenty of toilet paper at the ready. I started getting concerned when there wasn’t any action after an hour.

I read that if the mixture isn’t properly prepared and consumed, the colonoscopy may have to be rescheduled. What was wrong with me? (For that one co-worker…you know who you are, Ginna…I meant physically, NOT mentally.) Two and a half hours later, I had my answer and spent the next hour glued to the facilities.

The second liter had to be consumed five hours prior to the procedure, meaning I had to wake up at 5 a.m., the next morning. Overall, the first liter and a half went down OK, but the last half liter was rough, I’m not going to lie.

Once I checked into the facility, I was taken to a room, with a curtained enclosure. A nurse came in to explain what would occur. I was given a gown and told to strip down, leaving my brassiere and socks on. I was amused about the socks, but also grateful, because my feet get cold.

After donning the surgical cap and gown, an IV drip was inserted and I was wheeled into the operating room. A team of five nurses assisted the doctor. I expected extreme discomfort and assumed I would sleep the entire time. I was positioned on my side, facing a large monitor, where I could watch the procedure.

I was fascinated, though a little disappointed, because I didn’t have my glasses on and couldn’t see clearly.

I had a moment of unease, when I spotted several flecks of a green substance. I thought it was some horrible affliction, but was told it was only the rubber-tipped prongs at the end of the camera. Basically, the long tube is similar to a vacuum hose.

High-pressured water is pumped into your body, as the hose suctions all the remaining bile out. It lasted approximately 30 minutes and afterward, a nurse covered me with a warm blanket, straight from the dryer.

I expected to be embarrassed, but the doctor and nurses chatted about their weekend, and then discussed what they were ordering for lunch. I guess when you perform that line of work daily, it’s just another day at the office.

I was taken back to my room to recover and my daughter, Hannah, was brought in to keep me company. A person who has had the procedure, is not allowed to drive for 24 hours after. Han graciously took the day off work, to chauffer me to my appointment.

I understood why, when I tried to stand up and get dressed. My balance was completely off and I kept falling over. In between copious amounts of giggling, I was able to clothe myself, with Hannah’s assistance. Once I was cleared to leave, an aide pushed me outside, in a wheelchair, right to the car door.

The anesthesia had worn off and my equilibrium was fully restored by the time I got back home.

Now you know all the bare, sordid details. Nothing is sacred, when I’m around.