Monday, December 19, 2016

Ooh and aah or retch and gag?

This morning I left the endoscopy center with a band-aid on my arm, a hunger in my belly, and, in my purse, four small photographs of the interior of my colon.

Want to see 'em? 

Neither do I. I don't know if my bowels are any more or less photogenic than any others, but frankly, my view on internal organs is that they're kept out of sight for a reason. 

Nevertheless there they are in living color: four views of my colon, including one of the inky-dinky polyp that the doctor efficiently removed. (Probably harmless.) What am I supposed to do with these photos, paste them in a scrapbook? Post 'em on Facebook so all my friends can ooh and aah? (Retch and gag is more likely.) Keep them as a precious reminder of an experience I'd rather forget?
The colonoscopy itself was not unpleasant, thanks to anesthesia. The last thing I remember is wishing someone would switch the radio to a station that wasn't playing "All I Want for Christmas is You," and then boom, there I was waking up in the recovery room after it was all over.

But the 24-hour span leading up to the colonoscopy--that was memorable, but not in a good way. I don't want to go into detail here, but trust me: they're not kidding when they say this regimen will "clean you out." No photographs of that part of the procedure exist, and if they did, I'd burn them.

Maybe that's what I'll do with my colonoscopy photos: ignite a little sacrificial pyre, sending every memory of the unpleasantness wafting to the skies. Goodbye, colonoscopy! And good riddance!   

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