There are rumors about colonoscopy that suggest the procedure is akin to medieval torture. That surviving the procedure is tantamount to sainthood. I’m here to debunk those rumors.
I underwent my third colonoscopy in ten years this afternoon; and, while I can’t say the experience rivals a birthday celebration or a cruise in the Caribbean, it was certainly manageable. The worst part is the preparation, but even that has undergone serious revision in the past ten years.
About the preparation. It can be daunting. You eat nothing solid for about twenty-four hours, in which time you drink Gatorade®, apple juice, water, white grape juice, and anything else you can see through. Then you take a mega-laxative, guaranteed to keep you close to home for several hours at least. The next day you head for the hospital for the actual procedure.
Once there, you fill out forms and finally are ushered into the area where the procedures are done. You’re prepped and — unless you instruct your physician otherwise – you could be semi-awake for the proceedings. Personally I want to be comatose, and I only go to physicians who respect this desire. Which means I go to sleep at the front end and wake up a couple hours later with the examination behind (no pun intended) me. I do have to go home and sleep off the anesthetic. That part hasn’t changed in the past ten years, but taking the afternoon off isn’t such a bad thing. And the best part of all is that my next colonoscopy is never as far in the future as it is today.
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