Current Mood: 🍟 hungry
Current Music: The rhythmic gurgling of my own digestive tract

So.
Yesterday was the day I crossed another threshold into official, undeniable Middle Age: my very first colonoscopy.

Below the cut, the glamorous details of my lower GI tract

The final tally is in, and the doctors evicted a grand total of 10 precancerous polyps. Ten! I mean, it’s great that they caught them, but my body is apparently an overachiever in the worst possible way. Because of my impressive high score, I have been cordially invited to return and do this whole song and dance again in exactly three years.

As for the procedure itself? The magic sleepy juice in the IV works exactly as advertised. I remember them hooking me up, and then my brain just hit Alt-F4. Switched off immediately. The funniest part is that when I woke up in the recovery room, I supposedly immediately asked when lunch was being served. I have absolutely zero memory of this happening, but honestly, that comes as no surprise.

Truth be told, the hospital part was a breeze. The *true* horror is the day prior. The prep. Going on an all-liquid, nuclear-grade laxative diet to “flush the system” is pretty unpleasant.

I had some pretty epic tummy rumbles afterward as my system tried to figure out what was going on, but I survived. And more importantly, I have been gloriously reunited with solid food.