By: Jana Greene

Well, well, well….if it isn’t the day I’ve been dreading for decades – the colonoscopy.

Were it not for one of my dearest friends’s 30 year old son getting an aggressive form of colorectal cancer, I’m not sure Id have the balls to go through with the colonoscopy.

Now, that being said, there is 100% NOTHING funny about colon cancer, but there’s a lot to the procedure that IS, in fact, pretty damn funny.

So if you’re turning 50! Congratulations, you are now required to take a garden hose up the butt once every 10 years – or, if you are like me and f*cked up the entire prepping process – you may be lucky enough to need another one in just ONE year! (My butthole just involuntarily sunk about two inches up into my body, when it heard that news. I may never find it again, what with its ifeeble attempt to hide from the inevitable.) “You’d better man up,” say I to my asshole. “Stop being such a drama queen.”

What to expect when you are expecting to have your old dirt road explored by some man in a white lab coat and suspiciously chipper attitude. I guarantee you, if I had to look up butts all day, I’d plotz.

So a few days before the “prep” ( I guess “prep” sounds better than “having you drink mass quantities of what I’m pretty sure is the urine of satan…) Your prep will start off well enough. “I can drink Gatorade!” You think, full of hope and determination. Ok, next, take four Dulcolax. Wash THAT down with more Gatorade. Now mix AN ENTIRE 238 g bottle I to yet more Gatorade. Stir for what seems like 45 minutes. Next, slap your ass on the toilet because this is your new HOME for the foreseeable future.

I have never puked so hard in my life. Projectile vomited every last drop of that damn half GALLON of mirilax Gatorade. I threw up for hours, which means it never even made it down to the necessary bits. Oh wells no problem, because there is this abomination called “mag citrate,” and it solely exists to make you wish you were never born. It’s some kind of formula containing apparent jet fuel (you’ll figure you this out later…)battery acid, a fair amount of TNT, and “grape.” Yes, on the label it has a darling little illustration of s tiny bunch of purple grapes. I assume the nasty stuff is SUPPOSED to be grape-flavored, but still tasted like jet fuel. I DID make it to the toilet in time; but which was also mondo gross because it’s the same toilet aid been, um…”emptying my bowels” in all night, which made me puke even harder.

At some point, I remember telling my husband that I’d come up with a new slogan for colonoscopies…..”But WAIT! There’s MORE!”

THERE IS ALWAYS MORE. Holy shit, you think you are a mere shell of a person when in a split second your butt has decided to share its contents without any notice at all. It just shows up like your Great-Aunt Clara or something.

Some things that are NECESSARY to facilitate your best colonoscopy experience. (Wank, wank. There IS no best experience.

Aside from making sure you have at least 10 ounces of satan’s urine, 300 bottles of Gatorade, and a pile of Miralax so enormous, it looks like you’re expecting Cokehead Larry from down the street over any minute; it’s time to show your butthole the extra attention it so deeply (and I mean DEEPLY deserves. At first, standard baby wipes will do to gently clean yourself, but by the time it’s all said and done, you will not want anyone even coming NEAR you with so much as a feather. Get. that. Shit. Away. From. Me.

So finally it’s time to do this thing. The Thing ain’t bad at all – I took a rather refreshing nap when I was under.all of the doctors and staff were amazing, although when the proctologist bright pictures from he procedure to show Bob and so, I really could have done without the graphic rectal photos being shown to bob. WHERE IS THE MYSTERY?! At any rate, the doctor points out that my “cleanse” want clean enough and they could only see 80% of my colon so I need to have it redone in A$&£#% YEAR.

Apparently when I barfed so hard all night, the miralax never got to my intestines, this rendering my painful, embarrassing prep inadequate. Next time they are giving me an anti nausea so I can complete the prep properly.

So this is why I implore you, friends, old farts, countrymen….make sure your prep is top-notch. Also, please try not to stare because I am currently walking as though a corncob is up my butt. Please and thank you!

Silver lining? I lost five lbs today. TODAY.

Oh, and I had a nurse who was a riot, cracking (see what I did there?) jokes like, “The bathroom is back in the rear,” she said. “No pun intended!” Guurrrrl, we both know you intended that pun. Own it.