My Colonoscopy: The Procedure Was the Easy Part

I had my first Colonoscopy this week.

Going into it, I assumed the procedure would be the hardest part, and I was very anxious and stressed about that. I didn’t know if I had the mental or physical strength to make it through, particularly after the grueling prep.

That part turned out to be nothing to worry about. The difficult part was everything before and after. I wish someone had told me that. It would have really put me at ease, all things considered.

For me, the entire week was physically draining, incredibly stressful, and at times very overwhelming. I can’t recall ever feeling so worn out. I don’t know how people who work full-time, or have families, or other commitments, can do something like this as well. It took every ounce of my focus, particularly once I took the laxative.

As someone with probable IBS, it was the worst IBS flare-up I’ve ever had. If not for the measures I took, and my uniquely well-equipped bathroom, I would have been forced to quit the prep, and ironically, wouldn’t have a formal diagnosis as a result.

The preparation started a few days before the appointment.

Once the diet restrictions begin, everything revolves around timing and planning.

That means specific solid foods up to two days before the procedure. The day before, it’s a strict liquid diet.

With severe IBS, I don’t go into this with a normal digestive system. The prep didn’t just “clean things out.” It forced it into a highly reactive, volatile state.

The clean-out process itself is exactly what people describe, though I’m certain it affected me more severely given my condition. Frequent trips to the bathroom, urgency, and very little rest. My body was already exhausted before the day of the procedure even arrived.

In the days before the clear-liquid diet, I switched to a strict diet I knew my system could tolerate, but strictly adhered to what was allowed for the procedure. With chronic IBS, introducing new or unfamiliar foods right before a major prep is risky, and I’m not about to do this process again any time soon. The goal was to reduce residue. They don’t want to find food in the intestines or bowel.

For me, that meant keeping things very simple and familiar.

Most of my solid food during those days was:

• Ichiban Noodles and ham

• Annie’s pasta with ham or salmon

• Sliced turkey multi-grain bread sandwiches

• Swiss Chalet chicken soup

These are foods I’ve relied on for a long time because I know I can tolerate them. They’re low in fiber, low in fat, and don’t usually aggravate my system. The focus wasn’t variety or nutrition balance. It was to satisfy hunger.

Vegetables, rich meals, and anything that might sit in the gut longer were off the table well before the official liquid-only portion began.

On the fluid side, even before the clear-liquid phase, I was already relying heavily on what I normally use during IBS flare periods:

• Chicken broth

• Ginger ale

• Water

• Decaf tea

• Gatorade and Powerade

This part is physically harder than it sounds. Hunger is one thing, but the bigger issue is energy. With no little solid food, your strength drops. You’re drinking constantly to stay hydrated and to take the edge off the hunger, and then the laxative prep begins, pulling even more fluid out of your system, which means drinking even more.

For someone with existing digestive problems, this process was brutal.

I took the first portion of the laxative starting at 3pm the day before, and it was over by 9:30pm. That’s 6 and a half hours, though I wasn’t on the toilet the entire time. Symptoms eased somewhat overnight, allowing me to get some sleep between midnight and 5am, with some tossing and turning.

I took the second portion of the laxative at 6:30am, and it was finally over by 11am. My taxi arrived at 11:30am.

By the time I arrived for the procedure, the combination of restricted food, heavy fluid intake, a full clean-out, and very little sleep had left me drained before anything even started. I wasn’t thinking very clearly, but managed to make it through.

I was in the outpatient room, or whatever it’s called, for about 30 minutes prior as expected.

The main Nurse attending to me lacked bedside manner, and was striking up conversations, some of which were entirely unrelated to why I was there. When I casually brought up that Mom is my emergency contact, but she is away house sitting, and the fact we don’t get along anymore, this nurse couldn’t help but ask questions about that situation. And I was too tired to catch myself right away.

She was going through the motions and her routines, seemingly unaware of the vulnerable state of mind patients were in. She made little effort to make me feel comfortable, and increased my anxiety.

When I finally put that into words in my exhausted state, and said something about it feeling “weird” and “like we’re having coffee, not a Colonoscopy”, she said the unrelated questions were “out of curiosity”. I wouldn’t even bring up those topics at coffee to be honest. It was completely inappropriate and got me worked up, which, in hindsight, she seemed oblivious to.

That said, the nurse who wheeled me into see the Gastroenterologist was very aware of my comfort and state of mind.

I have contacted the hospital’s “complaints” department for a detailed follow-up conversation I am told to expect this week.

Right before the procedure, I met the Gastroenterologist for the first time.

He was professional and straightforward. He explained that IBS isn’t something they formally diagnose with a colonoscopy, as people often think. It’s the label used when conditions like Crohn’s or Colitis are ruled out. It’s an “exclusionary condition” when they can’t find anything else. I would compare it to Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I was not given a heads-up about being asked that question. I was not in an ideal state and had a few minutes to try to explain years of chronic, devastating symptoms. I hadn’t slept properly in days. My body was worn down. I was meeting him for the first time and trying to summarize what has ruled my day-to-day life for many years.

There was no way to communicate the full reality in that moment, and I told him that.

When you live with severe IBS. It’s the constant risk of urgency with little warning. It’s structuring your entire life around access to a bathroom and not knowing how your body will behave in any given moment.

That conversation felt rushed, and I’ll be following up to hopefully book an appointment with him provide a clearer picture before he talks to my doctor.

The part I was most concerned about turned out to be the easiest part.

They told me they would give me medication to “make me sleepy”, but I would be aware of what was happening. I was very anxious as to how I’d make it through the next 30 minutes, especially given my frequent washroom breaks leading up to that given my anxiety.

I don’t remember anything after that.

One moment, I was in the procedure room, rolled onto my side. The next thing I knew, I was unexpectedly waking up in recovery, nearly two hours later. No awareness of the procedure. No discomfort from it. No memory of anything happening. It was honestly jarring, but quickly a relief.

From a medical standpoint, it went smoothly.

They monitored me briefly, handed me the After Visit Summary confirming IBS, gave me a moment to quickly rush to the bathroom, rushed me into a waiting taxi, and sent me home. No anaesthetic, so no grogginess.

The findings were what I expected.

The report states that my “symptoms and investigations are consistent with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.”

That sentence is life-changing and is effectively a diagnosis, which is what I desperately needed going forward.

There is no cure. I can only hope he will suggest methods for management and coping to my family doctor.

My next appointment with her is mid-March. That gives me time to finish up medication trials that we need to document, but don’t expect to help much, and it gives the Gastroenterologist time to follow up with her first.

At Home

When I got home, I immediately ordered Swiss Chalet soup for delivery, fed my cat Nala, and stayed on the computer to distract myself while waiting, so I wouldn't zonk out while drinking Gatorade, Powerade, Ginger Ale, and Chicken Broth. After eating, I was out cold from 3pm to 10pm.

The instructions after the procedure are simple: fluids, light food, and rest.

That’s exactly what I did. I was up until 5am and slept most of Friday.

That was soon followed on Friday night by one of the worst IBS flare-ups of my life. It led me to a brief and utterly exhausted emotional breakdown. After my body relaxed, I zonked out most of Saturday as well.

After everything my body had been through, the days of prep, lack of sleep, the procedure itself, and the overall stress, my body is not happy with me. So I am taking a few days of recovery.

This time, the flare-up was mostly internal, aside from a couple of urgent and exhausting trips to the bathroom. Long stretches sitting there on my cushion while my system worked through whatever it was doing. It left me worn out, as any IBS flare-up would.

This wasn’t unexpected. After a week like this, I knew my system would react from the stress. But knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it easier.

Once my body felt like it had calmed, and after everything the week had taken out of me, I broke down briefly. It was a needed release.

Saturday was about taking it easy. Light foods and lots of drinking, as described above.

I’m simply taking it easy for the next few days, while letting my body decide the pace.

It’s now Tuesday, and I’m starting to feel a little more normal again.

The Colonoscopy itself turned out to be the easy part. The hard part was the physical toll of the preparation, the lack of sleep, the stress on my system, and the flare-up that followed.

The diagnosis makes it all worth it, and I mean that when I say it. I’m very grateful I finally got the opportunity to do this, despite the gruelling process. It should have happened 10 years ago, but my doctors at the time didn’t take it seriously. I wish I could hold them accountable for that.

This has been one of the most difficult and stressful weeks of my life.

Now the focus is simple. Taking care of myself in the days to come and having necessary conversations with my doctor and hopefully the Gastroenterologist to determine next steps.