Behind Closed Doors: Once Again, I Have Won the Colonoscopy Contest

Preparing with all the rigor of an Olympic athlete paid off big time.

Because I have a mild inflammatory bowel disease, I began having semi-regular colonoscopies in my mid-thirties. There are advantages to starting young. Namely, you’re typically decades younger than all the other patients in the waiting room so you are treated as a bit of a novelty.

During my earliest appointments, multiple staff, patients and casual observers commented on how youthful and vibrant I looked. Like the time the office staff gathered around and marveled as I performed a series of stretches to show off my flexibility. This particular memory is a made-up one, but I sometimes wish it were real.

I’ve always treated medical appointments as a competition, and colonoscopies are no exception. Because of the pandemic, I was able to forestall my colonoscopy by few years, which was ideal because it gave me more time to train. Whenever my schedule allowed, I practiced guzzling liquids. You’re probably thinking this is a joke about drinking alcohol, but you’re wrong. As a purist, I only guzzle water. And occasionally water laced with salt on April Fool’s Day when my kids pull one of their very original and hilarious pranks. My hard work certainly paid off because, the night before my colonoscopy, I downed the entire first dose of the liquid prep in nine minutes and 30 seconds. After the last drop of solution passed across my lips, I slammed the plastic mixing jar down on the kitchen counter triumphantly and immediately texted my wife to let her know about my momentous accomplishment.

She replied, simply, “Congratulations.”

Perhaps she would’ve been more impressed if I had texted her my exact time, but I rounded to 10 minutes. I didn’t want to get too into the weeds.

The split prep went amazingly, and by the morning of the big day, I was pretty confident my gastroenterologist would get a spectacular view. Possibly the best view of a colon he’s ever had. A man can dream.

To make sure I didn’t give even the slightest glimmer of hope to the competition, I refused to cut any corners. Colonoscopy prep instructions tend to be spectacularly vague and contradictory, kind of like a religious text. The instruction sheet I got from my doctor indicated that I should eat only a clear liquid diet the day before. On the other hand, the instructions on the prep box said I could eat a light breakfast before switching to a liquid diet.

I was having none of it. I ate my last solid food on Monday evening and fasted until my appointment at lunchtime on Wednesday. Nobody really stood a chance, but I stepped on all their throats even further by rising at 5:30 a.m. Wed. morning and slurping down the saline slurry in just eight minutes and 15 seconds, a new personal record. By around 10 a.m., it was pretty clear I was going to come out on top.

The procedure was unremarkable. I even helped a chatty intake nurse who let me know she’d been having some issues with constipation. “Well, I know just the thing…” I told her. When I woke up, the recovery nurse remarked that I had been asleep for quite a while and promptly wheeled me out to the parking lot where my wife was waiting with the car.

I was a bit woozy but I had my wits about me enough to ask the key question (Did I win?): “Did the doctor say anything about an exceptional view?”

“Actually, he did,” my wife replied, driving us out of the parking lot. “And he said he knew you would ask that.” What can I say? Just like any high-level competitor, my reputation precedes me. OSM