The Colonoscopy Files Continued: Part II

Colonoscopy’s Eve: My Colon Song

The ideal outfit to wear when prepping for a colonoscopy would probably be a comfortable shirt and a pair of chaps. In the spirit of decency and lacking a pair of chaps, however, I thought my usual outfit of jeans and a short sleeved t-shirt would have to suffice. This, of course, was all in hindsight

I’d picked up my prescriptions a few days in advance which consisted of an industrial strength laxative and, somewhat dishearteningly, anti-nausea medication. I was also encouraged to pick up some hemorrhoid cream for anal discomfort but I didn’t because I was in the drive through lane and too lazy to make my way inside the pharmacy. If there was anal discomfort to be had then I was out of luck.

It turns out that evacuation portion of the prep for a colonoscopy is accompanied with fair amount of reading. In addition to forgoing various medications like insulin and blood thinners (which I thankfully didn’t have to worry about) I was also given precise instructions on what to eat. My choices consisted of three exciting possibilities for my next two meals: two eggs cooked any way I chose, one eight ounce yogurt, or one eight ounce Ensure. I decided upon eggs and, because variety is the spice of life, I had them over easy for breakfast and then hard boiled for lunch. After that it was just clear liquids, popsicles, Jell-O and clear candy in addition to the two massive doses of laxatives before it was show time. I briefly wondered what I’d do if I were hungry for dinner but realized that, given the upheaval my system was going to go through, hunger was going to be the least of my concerns

Prep for a colonoscopy can differ between gastroenterologists but all of them involve a few large doses of a laxative to clean out your colon. Removing all of the intestinal detritus gives gastroenterologist the best chance to see any abnormalities in your bowel like polyps or lightbulbs or a piece of liver you ate when you were twelve that still has yet to make its way out of your system.

All colonoscopy prep laxatives have whimsical names like GoLitely or CoLite that imply a false sense of levity regarding their effects. This, I knew from my wife’s experience, was a blatant deceit. At various points during her colonoscopy preparation she has used a number of laxatives and none of them were ever deserving of the moniker “lite”.

I was instructed to go about my day until sometime between 4:00PM and 7:00PM when I was to take my first dose (one large pouch) and the anti-nausea medication thirty minutes prior. The aforementioned large pouch was described as containing aspartame as well as a mango and fruit flavor which, I figured, probably tasted about as good as it sounded. I was encouraged to call the gastroenterologist if either of those ingredients would be a problem, presumably before I started the process. As it was 4:00 PM and most doctor’s offices were closed I figured that any issues I had with aspartame or flavoring or laxatives in general were solely my problem at that point and not my gastroenterologist’s.

Per the instructions I dumped the powdered laxative into a 16 ounce cup that was thoughtfully provided by the makers of Plenvu, filled it up with cold water, tightly screwed on the lid and then shook the entire concoction vigorously. I debated taking a sip to test out the flavor but, after remembering countless negative descriptions of its taste, decided to take a massive swig.

The best way I can describe the mixture is that it tasted like someone had boiled a mango in baby oil and then strained it through an old hockey skate. I managed to slam down about eight ounces before I couldn’t handle any more and, then, realized that my daughter was watching me intently.

“How does it taste?” she asked.

“Imagine drinking motor oil,” I responded.

“Ewe,” she said.

“That’s been strained through a dirty sock,” I continued.

“Ohhh,” she said.

“and then soaked with a rotting mango for two weeks,” I continued.

“Yuck.”

“..but not as good.”

I managed to down the rest of the mixture in one or two more gulps and thought about rinsing my tongue out in the toilet to cleanse my palate. Instead I drank a glass of water. One of the key concerns about prepping for a colonoscopy is the threat of dehydration which is why gastroenterologists encourage their patients to drink lots and lots of water. I can say from experience that after bonging a bunch of Plenvu the last thing I wanted to do was drink a glass of water but I dutifully sucked down another 16 ounces of it per my doctor’s recommendation.

Aside from my daughter’s constant queries about “how I felt” the next hour or so was fairly uneventful. At first I was touched by her concern but then I realized that she really just wanted to know when the exodus was about to begin so that she could chortle heartily at my expense.

At precisely 6:21 my innards began to make some ominous rumblings that sounded quite a bit like a very sick Humpback whale attempting to sing a dirge. It was quite hauntingly beautiful actually. I would have been tempted to record my colon song for posterity if it hadn’t have been associated with cramping on a level I haven’t felt before or since.

Things really got moving about an hour later. I didn’t note the precise time because I was otherwise occupied. During my evacuations I did have time to congratulate myself on following the instructions about diet during the day as passing four eggs, however they may be prepared, was probably more pleasant than, say, pushing out the remains of a pot roast out of my sphincter at something close to the speed of light.

The average time it takes food to make it from table to toilet is about 36 hours. Prescription laxatives greatly reduce that span and I found them to be so effective that I may have digested a meal from a week in the future that I had yet to eat. I spent the next few hours emptying my entire GI tract. All in all it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. Every twenty or thirty minutes I’d hear a rumble that indicated an intestinal event was about to occur and I’d calmly walked to the toilet, let nature take its course, and then tried to catch up on binge watching shows that were ten years out of date. There was no other discomfort. I didn’t even need any hemorrhoid cream and, when I went to bed around 9:00 or so, I was lulled to sleep by the song in my stomach that sounded almost, but not quite, like a Humpback whale singing a dirge.

At 3:56 I dutifully woke for my second round of anti-nausea meds before conking back out until 4:20 at which point I took my second dose of liquid plumber. I slammed the drink down as quickly as possible and then attempted to grab what sleep I could in between bouts of extreme colorectal activity.

To read the first portion of The Colonoscopy Files: Part 1 (What Goes in Must Come Out) just click here!

About the Author

derekbremer Prior to his life as a stay at home father Derek spent more than a decade performing public relations and marketing functions for financial consulting firms and found the job to be precisely as exciting as it sounds. When not tending to his wife or daughter Derek enjoys subjecting the public to his unique take on fatherhood, travel and animal husbandry. He has been published in Scary Mommy, Sammiches and Psych Meds, The Good Men Project, HowToBeADad, Red Tricycle, RAZED, HPP and the Anthology "It's Really Ten Months Special Delivery: A Collection of Stories from Girth to Birth.