So, I had a colonoscopy last month. At just 45 years old, I’m not exactly at the recommended age of 50 when these procedures typically start, but after my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer six years ago, I’ve been relentless in my requests for one. (Don’t worry, she’s doing well!) Here’s my journey through the process. Grab a drink and settle in.
For six years, my doctor insisted that my mom was old enough at her diagnosis that it wouldn’t be classified as hereditary, so early screening wasn’t necessary for me. However, you’d be amazed at how persistent a middle-aged woman with a touch of anxiety can be. This year, during my physical, my doctor finally conceded, saying, “Alright, you can have a colonoscopy if you promise to stop bugging me about it.” Okay, he didn’t say it quite like that, but he did agree.
I scheduled the procedure right away, starting with a mandatory COVID-19 test because apparently, they have to ensure you’re not a walking virus before poking around down there. On the day of my test, I found out patients now had to swab their own nostrils. Let me tell you, it didn’t go as planned; after a bit of a struggle and some sneezing fits, I finally managed to get it right. Thankfully, I was COVID-free!
The Dreaded Prep
Now, onto the dreaded prep, which is by far the worst part. First, there’s a 24-hour fasting period. When my doctor informed me, I exclaimed, “Are you serious? I might die without food!” He just rolled his eyes at my dramatics. The night before the procedure, I had to gulp down a ghastly concoction that was supposed to be a laxative. It was flavored like strawberry, but honestly, it felt like trying to mask a terrible smell with an overpriced candle.
After forcing it down, I spent the night in constant trips to the bathroom and feeling miserable. Despite the discomfort, I managed to get some sleep without waking up to go again. But guess what? I had to repeat that awful drink the next morning, leading to even more bathroom visits—mostly just air at this point, which is a bizarre sensation.
The Procedure
When I arrived at the colonoscopy center, my mom drove me, but due to COVID restrictions, she couldn’t accompany me inside. I felt like such a child wanting my mom nearby. After changing into a gown and getting an IV, I was wheeled into the procedure room. The anesthesiologist explained that I wouldn’t be under general anesthesia, but she would administer propofol. I wasn’t scared, just asked her to keep an eye on my breathing—classic hypochondriac move.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up in recovery, being offered animal crackers. I was so out of it and half-asleep, I could hardly comprehend what the doctor was saying. I caught phrases like “huge polyp,” “I’m glad you came in,” and “you need another colonoscopy in three months.” My mind was racing. Did I have cancer? What did all this mean? I was terrified and felt like I was spiraling, especially as I crammed more animal crackers into my mouth.
They told me my mom was waiting for me, but I couldn’t process anything other than food. After a bit, I was nudged to get dressed and leave. On the drive home, I cried, feeling completely overwhelmed and convinced I had cancer. That night, I hugged my kids tightly, scared of what might come.
Pathology Results
The next morning, I felt more optimistic. I was still a bit bloated and tired but emotionally, I was in a better place. I realized I had overreacted the night before. I left a voicemail for the doctor to clarify what I had missed during our earlier conversation.
After a few tense weeks, I finally received the pathology results. Colon polyps are common and can be easily removed before they become cancerous. Mine was a whopping 25mm—basically the size of a small rodent! Thankfully, the doctor didn’t think it was cancer yet, but it was precancerous. He told me if I had delayed scheduling the colonoscopy, we’d be having a very different conversation.
The follow-up colonoscopy in three months was necessary to ensure all of the polyp was removed. He even tattooed the spot in my colon to keep track of it. I joked about getting something fun like a heart or skull, but he didn’t seem to appreciate the humor.
Final Thoughts
In summary, I feel incredibly lucky. While I’m not excited about the follow-up procedure, I’m grateful I pushed for this colonoscopy. I realize now that ignoring my instincts could have led to a far worse outcome.
So here’s my message: amid everything else going on, don’t neglect your health. Regular checkups are vital, and advocating for yourself can make a significant difference. If you’re interested in more about health and wellness, check out this post on home insemination kits or learn about couples’ fertility journeys. For reliable information on pregnancy and health resources, visit the CDC’s pregnancy page.
Search Queries:
- Benefits of early colonoscopy
- What to expect during a colonoscopy
- Colon polyp size implications
- How to prepare for a colonoscopy
- Risks of delaying colon cancer screenings
In summary, I’m relieved I didn’t ignore my gut feeling about getting screened, as it may have saved my life.
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