Friday, June 30, 2006

Flushed with Pride

I don't suppose you want to hear about this, but I've just had a colonic. I drove for three hours yesterday so a nice redhead could put a tube up my bottom.

In case you ever have to face something similar, I thought you might welcome details of what happens, although readers of a nervous disposition should look away now.

The fun started with a questionaire about the state of my health, which is fine except for the overgrowth of candida that sent me for the therapy in the first place. Then I had to sign a permission for a rectal examination and colonic irrigation.

After that, we got down to business. I was asked to visit the bathroom, undress from the waist down, wrap a towel around then present myself in the therapy room. There I lay on my back on a plastic-sheeted massage table while the therapist gently prodded my abdomen for signs of anything that might interfere with the procedure. Since there were none, I was instructed to lie on my side, still decently covered by the towel, while the therapist gently inserted a well-lubricated nozzle.

It was a peculiar feeling, neither painful nor unpleasant: really you just feel as if you're about to go to the loo. The nozzle only goes in an inch or two because there's a curve in the colon just before it emerges into the daylight so pushing anything too far up risks irritation of the colon wall.

Once I admitted I was comfortable -- which I was -- the therapist began to pump triple-filtered water into my intestines. That didn't feel like much of anything. You're advised to relax, not to push and let things happen. The nozzle is designed to allow water to flow in and everything else to flow out.

The 'everything else' can contain some surprises. While we chatted over the next three-quarters of an hour, the therapist told me one of her (middle-aged) clients had expelled three crayons she'd swallowed as a child in nursery school. Buttons from your romper suit and small toys consumed by babies aren't uncommon either. These bits and pieces pass through the stomach into the intestine where, typically, they lodge in one of the crevices. The body then wraps them in mucus for your protection and eventually forgets about them.

Disappointingly, I produced nothing of note except candida (which fizzes like champagne, according to my therapist) although she did congratulate me on the volume I expelled and the ease with which I did so -- a comment that brought me right back to childhood and the encouragement you get from mother while you're being potty-trained.

And that was about it. After the nozzle is removed, you go off to sit on the loo for five minutes to get rid of any residues, then you pay her and go home. Nothing to it, really.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Flushed with pride?! That's BRILLIANT!!! I think I'm in love with that title... One of the few puns that one should not be "pun"ished for. Bwahahaha... Anyway, sorry 'bout the colonic-that sound pretty humiliating to me... Probably because I'm an adolescent with a big ego, but still....

Foot Bath Array said...

Cool blog.

Sincerely,

June
Foot Bath Array

Foot Bath Array said...

Cool blog.

Sincerely,

June
Foot Bath Array