I always said I'd never have one of these. No mammagrams and no colonoscopies, and it's nobody's business but my own. I do take responsibility, damn it. I'm not in denial about anything!
It's costly, though, a decision like that in a culture like this. My understanding doctor gave me a prescription for a breast sonogram instead, a test I thought I could cope with — no slamming titties in a device like a window sash. But the lab would not even schedule me without a preceding mammagram — would NOT do it — and made me feel like a criminal in the process of telling me this. So, my gynecologist, a woman, gives me a thorough manual breast exam whenever I see her. I work with what I've got, she says philosophically. (Also, I'm not high risk for b.c.)
And I wouldn't be having the damn colonoscopy in the morning if three or four — maybe it was five? — doctors hadn't repeatedly insisted. See, I was unfortunate enough to have an unusual kind of muscle abscess in May: excruciating pain and a week in the hospital. Since there was no injury that could have caused the infection, and since it cultured out as e coli, the culprit had to be kidney or intestine.
I had my kidneys checked out — that was easy, a little blood, a urine sample. But the kidneys were fine, never better...unfortunately, from my point of view. Hence the upcoming colonoscopy.
What is it with me? It's the humiliation, babe, the humiliation. Let's just say I have a dark past and anything, anything at all, that smacks of humiliation, mortification, immodesty, over-familiarity or boundary-crossing is u n b e a r a b l e. Get over it, they tell you. Everybody does it, they tell you. But THEY don't get it. I'm serious about no nudity with strangers, let alone grabbing my butt or my tits — I've had enough trouble with the people I know well, if you get my drift.
But not only the respected gastroenterologist but also my trusted (female) osteopath says it would be SUCH a good idea, and I should JUST DO IT. So I'm JUST DOING IT! (Gritting my teeth all the way, not to mention what's going on with the sphincter muscle I'm sitting on.)
Everyone told me the preparation is worse than the test. Everyone said, get the procedure done early in the morning so the fasting is shorter. Of course, it's the knowledge of sticking my bare butt out for strangers that does me in, even if I'm going to be asleep at the time. As always, it's what I know that kills me. And, as for the fasting, all I could get was an 11:30 a.m. appointment. So I may be pretty hungry in the morning, so much for the breaks.
Right now I am liquid fasting: clear broth, coffee, tea, water and ices (lemon, kiwi, mango — nothing red or purple allowed). I'm sure you've already been through this with Catie Couric, or whoever it was, on TV, but I don't watch TV. I'm living this. And so far... not bad. I had a BIG breakfast, which had to be over by 11:30 a.m. this morning. And I've had chicken-mushroom broth and lemon ice, and for me, this is living! No muss, no fuss.
However, in a little over an hour I have to start ingesting the weird chemical potions they give you in the Kolonoskopy Kit. Four horse-pills and some yucky liquid you have to gulp down 8 ounces at a shot every 15 minutes. After that, you can trust me not to go into further detail.
More tomorrow — gotta go pack for the wedding!
It's costly, though, a decision like that in a culture like this. My understanding doctor gave me a prescription for a breast sonogram instead, a test I thought I could cope with — no slamming titties in a device like a window sash. But the lab would not even schedule me without a preceding mammagram — would NOT do it — and made me feel like a criminal in the process of telling me this. So, my gynecologist, a woman, gives me a thorough manual breast exam whenever I see her. I work with what I've got, she says philosophically. (Also, I'm not high risk for b.c.)
And I wouldn't be having the damn colonoscopy in the morning if three or four — maybe it was five? — doctors hadn't repeatedly insisted. See, I was unfortunate enough to have an unusual kind of muscle abscess in May: excruciating pain and a week in the hospital. Since there was no injury that could have caused the infection, and since it cultured out as e coli, the culprit had to be kidney or intestine.
I had my kidneys checked out — that was easy, a little blood, a urine sample. But the kidneys were fine, never better...unfortunately, from my point of view. Hence the upcoming colonoscopy.
What is it with me? It's the humiliation, babe, the humiliation. Let's just say I have a dark past and anything, anything at all, that smacks of humiliation, mortification, immodesty, over-familiarity or boundary-crossing is u n b e a r a b l e. Get over it, they tell you. Everybody does it, they tell you. But THEY don't get it. I'm serious about no nudity with strangers, let alone grabbing my butt or my tits — I've had enough trouble with the people I know well, if you get my drift.
But not only the respected gastroenterologist but also my trusted (female) osteopath says it would be SUCH a good idea, and I should JUST DO IT. So I'm JUST DOING IT! (Gritting my teeth all the way, not to mention what's going on with the sphincter muscle I'm sitting on.)
Everyone told me the preparation is worse than the test. Everyone said, get the procedure done early in the morning so the fasting is shorter. Of course, it's the knowledge of sticking my bare butt out for strangers that does me in, even if I'm going to be asleep at the time. As always, it's what I know that kills me. And, as for the fasting, all I could get was an 11:30 a.m. appointment. So I may be pretty hungry in the morning, so much for the breaks.
Right now I am liquid fasting: clear broth, coffee, tea, water and ices (lemon, kiwi, mango — nothing red or purple allowed). I'm sure you've already been through this with Catie Couric, or whoever it was, on TV, but I don't watch TV. I'm living this. And so far... not bad. I had a BIG breakfast, which had to be over by 11:30 a.m. this morning. And I've had chicken-mushroom broth and lemon ice, and for me, this is living! No muss, no fuss.
However, in a little over an hour I have to start ingesting the weird chemical potions they give you in the Kolonoskopy Kit. Four horse-pills and some yucky liquid you have to gulp down 8 ounces at a shot every 15 minutes. After that, you can trust me not to go into further detail.
More tomorrow — gotta go pack for the wedding!
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