A double-oscopy ... !

So this week the day of the dreaded colonoscopy finally dawned.  (You may recall from a previous update that routine screening is carried out here once you reach the age of 50).  Well, I say day ... it was really two days including the prep (plus one evening of complete misery!).  Seriously though, if you have to have one, don't panic.  The procedure itself really isn't that bad ... the preparation beforehand however ... well .... !  This was my experience (don't worry if you are eating your breakfast, I have spared you the graphic details!)

The process kicked off a couple of weeks ago with a visit to the Gastroenterologist, who was a very lovely and (mortifyingly) good looking, young doctor.  We chatted for a while about what had brought us to Phoenix, him from New York and us from the UK, before he went on discuss the procedure.  Cringe.

"Have you had a colonoscopy before?" he asked 

"No"

"Oh ... really?" he sounded surprised.  "But you have the colon screening programme in the UK right?"

"I don't think so ... well, I don't know of anyone who has had a colonoscopy for screening purposes"

"What?  No ... I think you are mistaken.  Everyone has this screening programme now!"  He seemed adamant, so thought it must be me.  I am aware of the breast cancer screening that kicks in at 50, but not colon screening.  I certainly never received any information on it, nor do I know of anyone who has?  Odd.  But he was like a dog with a bone and vowed look it up later.  Whatever.  

He then went on to describe the procedure he would be carrying out double cringe plus instructions to be followed beforehand - no food at all the day before, clear liquids only (nothing red or purple) plus a prescription to be collected for a preparation which would need to be drunk the evening before  ... uh oh

"You will definitely want to stay at home and be close to a bathroom ... " cosmic.  He then went on to explain that he was also going to carry out an endoscopy at the same time ... oh good, both ends ... as I had casually mentioned a minor swallowing problem to my GP at my new patient checkup remind me to poke her in the eye when I see her.

"Don't worry though,  I am going to put you to sleep and you won't feel a thing..." Eeek!

Whilst I was sitting with one of his assistants fixing an appointment a little while later, he came rushing over to triumphantly inform me that he had looked up screening in the UK and could confirm that the colonoscopy screening programme was indeed in place for everyone, but started at 60 and not 50 as is the case here.  Really??? Well it's news to me. Would be interested to know if any UK readers can confirm and restore my faith in the good old NHS?

Later that week, whilst doing my shopping at Safeway, I remembered to collect the prescription.  Btw, there is a much better system for that here - no queuing at the chemist to hand in a prescription and then hanging around until it's ready.  Doctor sends it automatically to your nominated choice of chemist and you just collect when convenient.  Perfect.

I strolled over to the pharmacy counter to collect ...

"Here you are Mrs Barlow ..." said the chemist handing over a huge box. "That will be $85". 

"Haha, sorry, I thought you said $85 for a minute there ..."

"Oh yes sorry ...  it's actually $85 and 6 cents."

Holy crap!! (pardon the pun) $85?! ... for a laxative?!? 

... or as Ethan quipped later, "...$85 for a sh*t night in ...!" 

To add insult to injury, I also received a call later that day from the doctors office who cheerfully advised that his costs for the endoscopy would be $1,750 and as we had not yet reached the deductible (excess) on our insurance, I would be liable for the full amount.  As I was still standing with mouth open in shock, she cheerfully added that I may also receive separate bills from the anaesthetist and the hospital, as this charge just related to the doctors costs.  Bloody hell!  Well, that's the other kidney gone then.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning.  Right, can't have any breakfast so think I'll just have a coffee ... oh wait, can't have any milk ... right, water it is then ... sigh. By lunchtime I was absolutely starving (not helped by making Youngest a bacon sarnie for his lunch ... pure torture) so decided to make myself a bowl of 'low sodium chicken broth' which was on the allowed list.  Bleugh!  Tasted like greasy washing up water.  After two more spoonfuls it was quickly poured down the sink and I resorted to a bowl of lime jelly, which I had prepared the day before.  Not amazing but better than nothing I suppose. 

5pm: time to start drinking the first batch of gunk ... oh god!  This was by far the worst part of the whole proceeding, (but in fairness, not quite as bad as I had been expecting).  The best way I can describe it is like drinking slightly thick, slimy, sea water.  Disgusting! There was a litre of the stuff to drink at 5pm followed by a further litre at 8pm (plus an additional half a litre of water after each) made all the more torturous by having to drink it in doses of 250 ml every 15 minutes.  I had decided to go with the practice nurse's advice and mixed it with some lemon flavouring, (which made it taste a bit like a slightly dodgy margarita), and drank it through a large straw to get it down as quickly as possible! Ugh ... done.  By the time I had finished I felt ready to explode! ... Ah.

I won't got into further detail, but i can tell you that I visited the bathroom 30 - 40 times over the next 5 hours ... :-/

At 9 the next morning  ... by now also prohibited from drinking, so as well as being Hank Marvin I now had a raging thirst  ... Mr B took me to the hospital for my appointment.  Well, it said hospital on the outside but it wasn't like any hospital that I had ever been to before ... free valet parking at the main entrance, and once inside a gift shop, coffee bar and a nice cafe (with not a Pyrex tea cup in sight!).  Checked in at the Outpatients reception - plenty of comfortable armchairs but not a single person waiting - and then shown straight round to the Gastroenterology dept by a smiley hospital volunteer.  I was met by an equally lovely Nurse who handed me two gowns and instructed me to put one on so that the opening was down the back, and then the other one the other way round (like a jacket) so that modesty was preserved.  Hallelujah!  No shuffling out of the bathroom like a contortionist trying to hold your gown together at the back to prevent your arse hanging out (and failing miserably)!

Within a few minutes, I was taken through yet more paperwork for signing ... blimey are they paranoid or what?... asked whether I would like a courtesy call the next day to check on me (still waiting for that mind you!), connected to a drip and all ready for my procedure.  I have to say that once again I was very impressed by the whole  process which seemed extremely efficient and timed to perfection.  The only waiting being for the consultant who was running 20 minutes late due to 'a slightly tricky' procedure before mine (eek!).  Whilst I was waiting, a total of 5 different people popped in and out of the room to apologise for keeping me waiting, ask if I was warm enough? did I want another blanket? would I like the fan turned off? was the light too bright? did I think that William would make a much better King than that idiot Charles? ... and did I think that Kate was very like Diana? Yes, really.  

Finally, when the consultant was at last ready, I was also joined by the anaesthetist who asked whether I had had an anaesthetic before and whether I had suffered any reactions. 

"Only nausea ..." I told him

"Ah, but have you had an anaesthetic in the U.S. before?"

"Er ... No"

"Well, no need to worry about feeling sick here.  We use the good stuff!  It's called Propofol ..."

"Erm ... Propofol? Isn't that the one that killed Michael Jackson?!"

"Haha! Yes, that's the one! Here ... can you just sign this form ...?"

The next thing I knew it was all over and I was wheeled to the main entrance by another lovely volunteer, where Mr B was waiting, with a stern warning from the nurses that I was not to drive for 24 hours, otherwise if I was stopped I could be arrested for DUI, (driving under the influence) the penalty for which in Arizona is 30 days in jail!  Orange is not really my colour, so I'm staying put for the rest of today just to be on the safe side!

Next week Ethan is scheduled to visit the dentist to have 4 stubborn baby teeth removed prior to having his braces fitted.  They charge per tooth apparently .... **wanders off whistling suspiciously whilst shiftily looking for a door with a suitable handle and a reel of cotton ...**