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"All's Well That Ends Well"
Several months ago my doctor decided it was time for me to have a colonoscopy. It wasn't that he thought there was anything wrong, he said, but that at my age I should have it done. I was not enthused. Still I told him to go ahead and set me up with an appointment with the doctor who did such procedures. He did but it took me a couple of months to get an appointment. These doctors are busy people.
When I finally got to see the "specialist" it was just for the preliminary "get to know each other." This doctor explained what the procedure was and gave me a prescription for the medications I would have to take in advance. The colonoscopy was set up for a date two months later. Nothing about this procedure went fast.
As I waited for the date to arrive I begin to get advice from my friends who had already had this procedure done to them. Their comments ran from "horrible" to "worst thing ever." All of them seemed to agree that the procedure was not as bad as the preparation for it. Everyone talked about the horrible liquid stuff you have to drink and the volume you have to swallow down. By this time I was dreading this thing like the plague.
Finally the day before the procedure arrived and I began my fast. I had been told not to eat anything solid that day so my wife had prepared different types of jello and some broths. I could also have all the diet coke I wanted as well as tea. So even that part wasn't too bad. But I was still dreading drinking the prescribed liquids.
When it finally came time to drink the stuff I was surprised by the taste. It actually tasted like an alka-seltzer, or even a lime or lemon drink. It wasn't bad at all, and this is coming from someone who usually gags over any liquid medicine.
The next morning my wife and I awoke at four thirty in order to be at the hospital by six. We had been told I had to be there an hour and a half before the procedure was to take place. Plus the hospital was thirty miles from my house.
At this time I should tell you I am a complete fatalist/hypochondriac. I always think the worst when I have any kind of illness. I have been dying for decades. At this point I was convinced the doctor would find all kinds of growths in my colon and it would be downhill from that point on. I had planned my funeral, how to tell my kids, finding a new husband for my wife, everything.
On the way to the hospital my wife and I didn't talk much. She knows how I am and didn't want to encourage any last minute funeral plans. We did have a prayer in order to make sure God knew I was having this procedure. I may be a hypochondriac but I am a Christian hypochondriac
When it actually came time for the procedure the doctor told me they were going to give me something to make me relax. I don't know what it was but it put me out like alight though I did vaguely hear him say "no polyps here."
The next thing I knew they were taking me to the recovery room where he came in and told me and my wife that everything was fine. I was elated, ecstatic, overjoyed. I was back from the brink and could now get on with the rest of my life. It was like getting a new lease on life.
The day before I had actually thought about canceling the procedure. I figured why know if anything was wrong. Ignorance was bliss, right? Wrong. I wouldn't take anything for having this done and getting a clean bill of health for my colon.
In retrospect I would encourage everyone to have this done. It isn't painful, it isn't traumatic, it isn't even bothersome. I will go back in ten years and have it done again, and I won't dread it at all.
All's well that ends well, and I feel a heck of a lot better today than before I had it done. |
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©2007 Jackie K. Cooper |
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