What's up your ass?
When taken in a literal context, this phrase becomes more of a mystery than an admonishment. I recently had a colonoscopy to see precisely what was up my ass. If you're of an age where you've already had one, you already know what this is about. If not, or if you're just a younger person with health issues like me, I'll make the unmentionable... mentionable, so you don't have to.
I have a diminished immune system along with irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). For the unversed, I get this seesaw effect in my bowel patterns that teeters between constipation and diarrhea. In between that constant battle of ass-splosion and corked anus lies the occasional bout of severe abdominal pain. To treat this, I take a medication called Hyoscyamine (high-oh-SY-uh-meen); just try and pronounce that appropriately! The reason a diminished immune system is relevant is that I'm also greatly susceptible to long-term infections and serious ailments of the gut and bowel, such as colitis and C. diff. Hence, I'm on my second colonoscopy in three years at the ripe old age of 44.
I'm going to assume that everyone knows what a colonoscopy is, but I'll explain it anyway so I can boost my word count. In layman's terms, a colonoscopy is when a doctor sticks a camera up your butt to look around for various ailments of the bowel and colon. They will be checking for signs of colitis, cancer, and other issues, remedying them during the procedure if possible. Here's how my experience went.
Approximately a week before your procedure, you are supposed to stop all blood thinners and a few other medications. This is so you don't run the risk of bleeding profusely through your anus and into your abdomen during the procedure. Nothing like an Ebola-adjacent experience to get people excited! Keep in mind, this runs the gamut of pain medications. So, if you're like me and have a few extra miles on the body, you have a lot of joint pain. This is mercilessly aggravated by not being able to take anything. Therefore: fun.
When getting closer to your ass-excavation date—usually a few days prior—they ask you to stop eating nuts and corn. These stubborn foods don't fully digest, meaning they can obscure the doctor's vision and potentially clog the suction tube on the "delicate" scope inside your delicate anus. No big deal, but we live in Ohio, and everything has corn in it. It's really not a huge hurdle unless you subsist solely on these items. In complete irony, we had some friends over for a small gathering exactly three days before my scope. I had forgotten entirely about the rule until my wife reminded me... while I was endlessly stuffing my face with a roasted corn dip. Oops.
The day before your procedure, you can't eat anything solid, and you absolutely cannot consume anything with red, blue, or purple dye (unless you want your doctor to think your colon is an active crime scene). So, nothing good. What this means is by the time you actually get there, you will not have eaten anything for approximately 36 hours. Now, I've trained my entire adult life for these moments, as I have a "few pounds" of emergency reserves. I do this to ensure that I'm not the first person to die when the inevitable famine or zombie apocalypse hits the United States. Smart—stocking up now in preparation for tomorrow.
Along with the clear-liquid diet, they recommend clear broths and non-pigmented fruit juices. No thanks. I tried the broth, and it was less than satisfying. Nothing quite like a HOT beverage during an extreme heat advisory! So, I just kept hydrated with the usual: water. Hydrate or die!
For my previous procedure, I had to drink a concoction of unpronounceable components for the better part of the day to completely clear out my system. To put it bluntly, it makes you shit your brains out. This go-around, I was given a new protocol: two pre-measured bottles of Ass-Blaster 5000. You drink the first dose at 4 PM and the second dose at 9 PM the day prior. You space each dose out by drinking 8 oz every 15 minutes until it's gone. It tastes terrible and has the consistency of mucus, so it's effortless to get down. They even did me the favor of including "flavor-enhancing packets" that I didn't notice until after my procedure was over... so it tasted wonderful without them. Once you are at the point of spraying a clear, viscous fluid out of your ass, you are officially ready to be scoped.
You aren't supposed to have ANYTHING after midnight the day of your procedure. So, you show up to the hospital dehydrated, starved, and tired. Tired because they have you start your second dose at 9 PM, subsequently forcing you to become best friends with your toilet late into the night. You can imagine the mental state one would be in under these circumstances. You aren't fun.
Upon arriving at your place of anal exploration, you finish any outstanding paperwork and are herded back to the prep area, where you disrobe and don an open-back gown. After you become "trauma-naked," a nurse gently jabs a port into your arm in preparation for sleepy time and an adult episode of Dora the Explorer.
This is the part where the Army prepared me exceptionally well: "hurry up and wait." After all the aforementioned prep, you are left waiting until your doctor is ready to receive you—and then things start moving fast. A new nurse hurriedly moves you to the procedure room, quickly hooking you up to oxygen, vitals, and the good stuff after verifying your information for the 100th time that day. The doctor comes in to talk to you like a doting old grandparent who's about to take pictures of your insides, and then you're started on your journey to sleepy town.
I love anesthesia. Love it. The reason I love it is that it is the only time my brain is switched completely off. This miraculous effect doesn't occur during sleep, waking, or anything else. My brain is constantly moving a mile a minute, and it can be exhausting, so these brief reprieves during an intravenous TKO are cherished.
This is where I inadvertently made things fun. I told you this wasn't my first rodeo having a camera up my ass. What I failed to mention is that the first time I had this done, I was awake throughout the entire procedure. Yes, I was. It's important to note that my memory is hazy here because I was drugged, but clearly not sufficiently enough to make me go night-night. I informed my doctor and nurses of this prior excursion, and I think they took it as a challenge. My doc said, "Well, we can't have that, can we?" Challenge accepted. So, as they lay me down to sleep, my last recollection for the majority of the day was, "Oh, this feels nice. I hope I go to..."
And I was a goner, dude! I remember nothing until approximately 4 PM that day.
Luckily, my wife was there to take in all the day's proceedings—things such as me swearing that I was good to go to a sit-down restaurant immediately after the procedure. I was speaking to everyone like I wasn't under the influence, noting that, had she not known better, I would have passed off as being completely fine. There were other stories I was regaled with but had zero recollection of, and I'm done embarrassing the family enough for one update.
So that was it. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. You're probably wondering what the outcome was. I had a polyp that may or may not be pre-cancerous, but my doctor felt confident it was benign. He also confirmed that I did indeed have IBS and hemorrhoids, and he took biopsy samples from various parts of my colon. Super easy. I got to stuff my rapidly emaciating face with Maple Street Biscuits and take a much-needed brain vacation. I hope this has inspired you to take a similar journey.
Furthermore, I know talking about this stuff can be uncomfortable for plenty of people. Colon cancer is one of the largest killers of young people today, but it is highly treatable if discovered early. Don't be ashamed to talk to your doctor about your bowel habits, especially going into great detail about your poop and how you poop. It may just be a lifesaver one day. My kids share stories about poop all the time, so if you take a page out of their book, it shouldn't be a big deal and could even be something quite fun.
In summary, go find out what's up your ass if something's bothering you. There is never a reason not to. You are welcome to drop me a line about your ass-capades to let me know that I'm not alone. Thanks!
Dad out... of toilet paper.