Advice for the 50-and-older set

First of all, if discussions of medical procedures are off-putting to you, please move along to the next post here at Hamguin’s or to the next blog you love to follow.

Okay! Now that the folks who think “doctor” is a four-letter word have vacated the premises, here is today’s message.

If you are 50 years old or older and have not had a colonoscopy in the last ten years, talk to your doctor about getting one.

It was my turn yesterday, and I have to tell you that it was so easy that I cannot imagine why I was concerned prior. Let me restate: I can imagine why, I mean, who wouldn’t be apprehensive? The facts, though, may help you make your decision.

Once we hit 50 or so, our bodies become more likely to get little bumps inside our colons known as polyps. These little growths are typically no problem at all, but they have the potential, over a period of years, to become cancerous.

So, to avoid those little things having unlimited opportunity to become a problem, the advice is to have a colonoscopy once a decade to remove any while they are still just little bumps.

When one considers the alternative, the one-day interruption of your routine is well worth it.

I’ll detail all that I had to do and describe yesterday only to alleviate any imaginings of horrible stuff going on which ignorance can allow to flower.

The day before the procedure, I did not eat anything. The list of clear liquids I was okay to consume included things like clear broth and lemon-lime soft drinks, although I stuck strictly to water. Beginning at 6 pm, I drank, over the next hour, a liter of a powder dissolved in water which was designed to act as a roto-rooter for my intestinal tract.

It did what it was supposed to do, and that part was uncomfortable, if only mildly so. Then, at 8 pm, I drank the second liter of the same stuff. By 10 pm, I was no longer feeling any discomfort, and I had no trouble at all sleeping normally.

Yesterday, the day of the procedure, I was not to have anything by mouth at all.

The folks at the outpatient facility were very nice as they prepared me for the procedure. In this case, the traditional hospital gown with the open back makes perfect sense!

They wheeled me into the procedure room where the doc went over, one more time, what the plan was and had me sign a consent form. The anesthesiologist put some stuff into my IV, and about 60 seconds later, I was gone to sleepyland.

The next thing I knew, I was back in the same room where I had changed clothes prior to the procedure. I felt like I was waking from a nap, with no side-effects from the anesthesia at all. Within ten minutes or so, I was able to change back into my own clothes and await my ride home in comfort.

Other than some minor issues with gas which cleared up over the next couple of hours—perfectly normal, as they do inject air so as to make the interior of the colon visible, and all of it doesn’t evacuate right away at the conclusion—the rest of my day was event-free.

I ate a light meal when I got home, took a short nap, and I was feeling fine. Dinner was a typical Hamrick-household meal, and I was back on the regular food train.

This is way more info than most people require, but I wrote it out for those who are not at all sure they want to go through with this.

Bottom line: as detailed above, this is so a non-event as to be, literally, a one-day interruption of your normal life. Not only that, it is a pain-free and only mildly uncomfortable day.

And, people, it can save your life.

To end on a note less serious, here is the tagline on the stationary of the group of doctors of which my gastroenterologist is a member.

“Shedding light on gastrointestinal problems…”

Wiseasses.