Posted by Shortelise on April 21, 2005, at 14:05:47
In reply to I'm panicky. New phobia uncovered., posted by Dinah on April 20, 2005, at 11:54:46
I've had both a barium enema and a colonoscopy.
It was during the time a few years ago when I was in a period of many migraines, a period that lasted about ten years, and I was in up to my ears with therapy. Then all hannah barbara breaks loose in my hind end and I had to have a barium enema. Oh, honey, you listen to me, because I KNOW. You WANT to have a colonoscopy. Really, you do. Becaue a barium enema is the other test they do, where you empty yourself out for 24 hours, then they fill you up with this hideous stuff and xray you. Then the hideous stuff comes out from the same orifice you've been emtying yourself from and which is already tender, to say the least. No, let me be more precise. You take laxatives and cleansing enemas to the point where your poor bum is screaming for pity, is crying out for no more no more, whcih is fine because if there is any more anything whatsoever inside of you to be, um, elminated, chances are it's an organ of some sort so hopefully your, say, lung is not going to come out of your bum, though at some point it may seem so.
Then when you arrive at the X-ray S&M parlour, they fill you up with a great deal of some white chalky liquid, fill you with it until you think it is going to come out of your mouth. You tell them that's enough and they laugh. Ha ha. Very funny. We haven't put any in yet, just a few drops. They fill every nook and cranny of your intestines with this evil white chalky stuff, then x-ray you from any angle they think will look good in their scrap books, then take a snap or two for the docs.
Then it's over. Ha. They say, you may have a "little disomfort" passing the solution. They lie. Like rugs.
I got in a cab to come home as I felt no need at all to use the toilet. I hung around the bathroom there at the X-ray S&M parlour, but nothing happened, so off I went. Half way home, a 20 minute ride, it hit me. Oh, no, I thought, I'm never going to make it. In fact, I'm not going to survive at all. It felt as if a rock quarry had formed in my gut and the dynamite had just been set off.
I must have been green. You'd better hurry, I told the driver. He sped up. No, I mean, you'd better hurry, I said, and he looked at me again, and sped up some more. We made it home, through downtown traffic, in record time. I tipped him generously, stumbled into my building, and made it into the elevator.
Hold it hold it, the door to the elevator opened, I tottered down the hall, managed to get the door to my apartment opened and ... well, it was a mess, to which luckily I was the only witness. The trousers I was wearing were ruined. That chalky stuff does not come out of wool, and is very noticeable on black wool.
The boulders that had formed in my gut further insulted my tender hindparts by their passage. For a couple of days, I drank lots of water, and considered a liquid diet for life. But it passed, so to speak.
The X-rays were not conclusive. So, on to the colonoscopy.
Now, the colonoscopy is a breeze. Nope it's no fun having them stick a thing up your bum, pump you full of air and sightsee, but it's ok. And they give fabulous drugs! They could have asked me to f*rt the Sound of Music and I would have tried to comply (am I allowed to write "f*rt" here?) I was so deliciously medicated. They gave me a combination of valium and demerol. ANd I got to watch the whole thing on TV as they did it, saw what they were seeing in living colour. (I discovered the origin of the term "butt ugly" as the carmera approached that opening.) But it was cool to see the inside of my intestines, really it was.)
Because I had fasted, no water, and had done the cleansing thing, I had a migraine that was killing, and the meds knocked it out for time I was having the colonoscopy. It came right back after, and it amazes me that they let me leave, now that I think about it. I could hardly walk I was in so much pain.
Ok, anyone who has just read this now thinks I am very, very weird, which is just fine - I am! But frankly, if you can't make a good story out of the hard stuff that happens, what can you make a story out of? And if you are going to be curled up stoned on really good meds, you might as well enjoy talking a sightseeing tour of your intestines. What else is there to do?
But here's what I really want to tell you Dinah. I think it's unfair to yourself to call this a phobia. It may be one, but NO ONE wants strangers fiddling around with those very private places. Ok, there are some people who enjoy it, but those people aside, NO ONE wants to go there. It's not necessarily a phobia, though it's a big YUCK!!!!! UGH!!!!
I hate gyn exams. I hate mammograms. I am a baby about them. It feels like an invasion. But I tell them, I explain that it's very difficult for me, and ask them to please try to help me be comfortable.
I talked with my T about this when it was going on, and he was so reassuring. It was he who said that everyone hates this stuff. No one wants to talk about it, no one wants to do it. But even completely tied in knots at the time ME did it.
You could look up diverticulitis on the web and change your diet in the meantime.
I send you great huge warm hugs, and hope I've made you laugh a little. Dinah, this is just another one of those finking annoying bits of balthering blank we have to do. And I tell you, the valium and demerol I.V. was almost worth the ordeal. It certainly gave me insight into drug addicts. :-)
Oh, and I was fine by the way. Nothing wrong at all.