This piece first appeared on KathrynMayer.com. See Kathryn’s complete bio and contact info below the post.
I should have an EZ Pass to the local surgical center, or at least a customer rewards card. Having been bottoms up more times than I can remember, the least I could get is a free sandwich? Cup of clear fluid? Anything?
Just completed my umpteenth colonoscopy, and lived to tell about it.
Way back when, after having “symptoms,” I met with a gastroenterologist who quickly said, “Four kids? You’ve got hemorrhoids, but we’ll poke around up there to take a look to make sure.” (“Symptoms” is the polite way of saying blood in your shit, which is the polite way of saying blood in your “stool” – because who beside medical copywriters calls shit stool?? Shit is shit, stool is to reach high shelves.)
And with that look, he saved my life. Because had I waited until 50, I’d be dead. So instead, I got the first of many colonoscopies at 42, pending accessible health benefits and/or a ride home.
So this week I went in again to see my favorite ass doc.
“I so wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he said to me. Prude, even after all these years.
I did my hair because after the ass exam, I had a GVP protest to attend, then my kid’s basketball game, then my writing group.
[clickToTweet tweet=” ‘Cuz you just can’t let a little scary polyp party hold you back.” quote=” ‘Cuz you just can’t let a little scary polyp party hold you back.” theme=”style3″]
Did I mention I had really, really good hair? I was hoping to draw the ass doc’s eye upward, like they teach you on Fashion Police and Project Runway, far from the 50-year-old crater staring him straight in the face.
I don’t think he noticed. The hair.
What he did notice was a clean as a whistle colon, and a reprieve of seeing him again for 4 years. Which I might or might not do, pending health benefits.
Here’s the thing about colonoscopies: they’re not so bad.
Sure the drink is gross, but not intolerable. The pissing out your asshole is alarming, but doable – with baby-wipes (trust me on this). There’s no stomach cramps to accompany the explosions, which they should tell you but they don’t. Pain free diarrhea, what a bonus.
Just stay close to the bathroom and all is good in the world. The worse thing is being hungry, yet we could all stand to be a little hungrier here in fat-pants USA.
So bring a funny friend to laugh it out, and take care of yourself.
The worse thing about colonoscopies is waiting too long to get one, because then it’s too late to do anything about what they find, and no one will care how nice your hair looks.
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