I had my first colonoscopy Monday. I started the prep regime precisely at 2 pm Sunday. 1.5 ounces of phoso-salt in 8 oz of ginger ale. Not as bad as I was told it would be. I do not mind really salty stuff and that is all it really was. 10 min. later, 8 oz water. 4 pm. 2 doculax tabs. more water. a lot more water. 6 pm. another 1.5 ounces of phoso-salt. and drinking plenty of water and tea and broth. This is the interesting part: the first explosion was at 3:15pm. It was like someone had given me one of those 3 quart enemas you only read about.
Then, for the rest of the night, up to midnight, unbelievably, I hit the toilet maybe 5 times. Each time of course was a major thing. But only about 5 times. So no horror stories of running; nothing "wiped raw", as I've heard. No biggy. Except I was worried that maybe the cleanout wasn't working! So my wife gave me an enema (three 8 oz bulbs full) at midnight. Went to sleep 1:30am. Woke up 6am running. Another explosion. This concerned me because certainly by now it should be out and clear, no? Then a Fleet bottle at 8am (of course, I had to get the Fleet Extra, 70% more water in the bottle).
At least my wife volunteered to help again. It as the bright spot of my morning. I couldn't believe how much it actually burned. So at least it was tolerable (but not enjoyable under the circumstances). So, not really that bad. The thing that really grosses me out is that, Curious George here had to read the ingredients on the phoso-salt liquid that you put in soda and drink, and the Fleet. Guess what: same exact ingredients! Grossed me out.
Then off to the hospital. I had a moment of panic when the nurse who connected my IV and did the preliminaries asked me if the (I love this) "returns" were clear. Now, I knew, if I had told her no, what was going to happen. Now, if she was young and NOT blond (just kidding girls!), I probably would have told her the truth, hoping for the thrill of my life. But she was not; in fact, very matronly. I lied and told her yes, the returns were clear.
The procedure was nothing. I actually was made to walk into the operating room (holding my IV bag no less; at least they had me put on two gowns, the first one open in the back, and the second one like a robe, open in the front) and of course the scope was laying there, ready for the invasion. And of course, it looked the size of a vacuum cleaner hose (as you know, it is only about 1/2" dia or so). The Dr was real nice - albeit obesely overweight but he was pleasant, answered questions, and seemed to know what he's doing. I told him to please look for my brains when he's up there.
So they make me turn over, don't even uncover my privates, and I'm in la-la land. I think my last thought was, the next time I have this, I'm gonna find a female doctor. I really thought I was going to feel that first, digital probe, but nothing. I'm a bit disappointed! I THINK I saw stuff on the monitor (or maybe I was dreaming about the countless videos I looked up on the internet over the past three weeks, anticipating the worst experience of my life), but I am not sure. The one nurse asked what I did for a living and I was out.
Next thing I knew I was staring at this pretty nurse in the recovery room telling her that she had a beautiful ring (it looked to be, like 18 carats of diamond, but, it was probably the drugs). So the doctor comes in and tells me everything looked ok, I had a few polyps he removed and sent to the lab, but he's not concerned, and I have some diverticulosis, which is little sacs along the colon, but not serious. So that was it. And oh yes, at 7:30 that night I was still farting.