UPDATE: HAD my colonoscopy today 1/17/2020...
- Thread starter 69hurstolds
- Start date
Had my second one done last Friday, and yes, the prep is the shitty part(pun intended). As far as the violation part, I can't tell you for sure that they were even in there. The anesthesiologist said "see you in a little bit", and forty minutes later a nurse was waking me up telling me to go home. For me the costs of the precaution outweigh the costs of the potential illness.
Hope all goes well I had my first one done last year and I’m just 24. Hopefully will be a long time before I have another one.
Had my first one last year around this time. Prep was def the worst. When they woke me up, the first thing I did was apologize if I’d snored too loud. Doc came in and said she’d see me in 10 years.
so what other way is there to check and see if anything is wrong in there? looks like there are new blood tests that look promising but they aren't well tested over a long term yet.
I go every 5 years and I am due. They find polyps so I guess the agony is worth it. What I don't understand is that the first Ducolax pills make your *ss explode so why the gallon of dragon piss? I mix it with lemonade but it is still like vomiting out your *ss. Then they knock you out and when you wake up they are all standing around smoking cigarettes and pulling their pants up?!? And they refuse to give you a doggie bag of that anesthesia- I mean when you wake you are just so mello........... 
If the Dr puts one hand on your shoulder he is a friend.
If he wants o put both hands ON your shoulders ............. I would ask
Ask to be 💋 1st......
If he wants o put both hands ON your shoulders ............. I would ask
Ask to be 💋 1st......
I need to get mine scheduled. A co-worker had one about a year ago and wound up
having life saving surgery, now he keeps reminding al of us to get it done!
A friend forwarded this to me a few months ago, A little long but I almost cried from laughing.
Colonoscopy Journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a colour diagram of the
colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point
passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because
my brain was shrieking, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR
BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription
for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold
a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice
it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's
enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In
accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all
I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavour.
Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder
together in a one-litre plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water.
(For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a litre is about 32
gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour,
because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of
goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great
sense of humour, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel
movement may result.'
This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may
experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but,
have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the
MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you
wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much
confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything.
And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink
another litre of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your
bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not
even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not
only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing
occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I
spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that?
Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and
totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to
a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little
curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital
garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on,
makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was
already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their
MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I
pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the
bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would
have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where
Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anaesthesiologist. I did not see the
17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I
was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anaesthesiologist began
hooking something up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was
'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that
could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to
be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me...
'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for
more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am
going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling
'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I
was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.
Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I
felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that
my colon had passed with flying colours. I have never been prouder of an
internal organ.
On the subject of Colonoscopies...
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite
humorous. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made
by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their
colonoscopies:
1. Take it easy Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5 'You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.'
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!'
10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
And the best one of all:
12. 'Could you write a note to my wife saying that my head is not up there?'
having life saving surgery, now he keeps reminding al of us to get it done!
A friend forwarded this to me a few months ago, A little long but I almost cried from laughing.
Colonoscopy Journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a colour diagram of the
colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point
passing briefly through Minneapolis.
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because
my brain was shrieking, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR
BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription
for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold
a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice
it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's
enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In
accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all
I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavour.
Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder
together in a one-litre plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water.
(For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a litre is about 32
gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour,
because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of
goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great
sense of humour, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel
movement may result.'
This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may
experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but,
have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the
MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you
wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much
confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything.
And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink
another litre of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your
bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not
even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not
only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing
occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I
spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend for something like that?
Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and
totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to
a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little
curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital
garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on,
makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.
Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was
already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their
MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I
pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the
bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would
have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where
Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anaesthesiologist. I did not see the
17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I
was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anaesthesiologist began
hooking something up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was
'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that
could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to
be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me...
'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for
more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am
going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling
'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I
was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.
Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I
felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that
my colon had passed with flying colours. I have never been prouder of an
internal organ.
On the subject of Colonoscopies...
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite
humorous. A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made
by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their
colonoscopies:
1. Take it easy Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5 'You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married.'
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!'
10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
And the best one of all:
12. 'Could you write a note to my wife saying that my head is not up there?'
get it done. not near as bad as some make it sound. i have a friend that kept putting it off and when he finally did he had cancer. he is fine now but it could all have been avoided with regular check ups and procedures...
