We take pride in the cleanliness of our gut lining,
the clear prep, the willingness to guzzle GoLytely;
modify the diet days in advance (no whining
allowed), chill Gatorade, hog the bathroom forthrightly.
When colon cancer runs in the family, “get tough”
is what’s expected. It’s not the prep that’s my problem.
The first time, that was all I worried about. Enough
to take the doctor’s “good prep” as my good girl emblem.
I remembered waking up during, tried to forget
the date-rape drug distortions and Dali-esque faces,
curses, crude comments, being sticky with a cold sweat.
For years it worked. They ignored me, then I them. Aces,
until it was time to schedule the next. That was when
the nightmares began, leaking through the cracks opened then.
NOTE: Don’t be scared off from getting your recommended and needed colonoscopy by my sad story of one bad experience. I’m not. I go back and get them regularly, and do what’s needed. For me, that means getting docs to support me and advocate for my having them without sedation. For other folk it means asking for them with complete sedation. For most folk, the prep is the part they dislike most, and for most folk the conscious sedation works just fine. The colonoscopy experience described in this poem is not typical.