I guess it's time to discuss the fantastic experience that is the barium enema.

And I STILL HATE EVERYONE INVOLVED WITH BOWEL CANCER TESTS!!!

The morning of my test, I awoke bright and early. After sending the kids off to school, all I could think about was what I was going to eat when the test was all over. Although I was tempted to go to the test just as grungy, stinky and gross as I could so I could make those performing the test on me as uncomfortable as I knew I was bound to be; I took a shower and got cleaned up.

When I arrived at the hospital and went to sign in, I saw that I was to give my information to a rather hot receptionist. My first thought was... "Great, with my luck, the nurse that is about to sodomize me will probably be really hot and will ruin every fantasy I have ever had about nurses"! My second thought was "What if the nurse is someone I know? I went to school with alot of people who are now nurses..."

The only luck I had on this day was that neither of these worries came to fruition.

As I said in my previous post, the actual process of getting a barium enema is not at all what I had expected. What I was expecting was a regular enema (which in itself is bad enough... but at least it is quick) to clean things out and some x-rays.

After signing in, I was led to a tiny changing room about 1/4 the size of my bedroom closet. In there I was asked to strip and put on a paper thin johnny-shirt and robe, both of which leave very little to the imagination. Keep in mind that I am not Superman (I know it is hard to believe), and being asked to change in an enclosure smaller than a phone booth with nothing but one tiny hook to hang clothing on was not an easy task. After some manoeuvring, I was ready for action. They, however were not quite ready for me and asked me to take a seat in the hallway.

Sitting in the hallway with a cool breeze blowing up my fashionably short, green johnny-shirt made me wonder how a woman could wear a mini skirt with no under pants. I guess I had to keep my mind busy as I struggled to keep my feet crossed so that I would not give everyone walking in the hallway a free show. After waiting for about 15 minutes, it was time...

When I walked into the x-ray room, I saw a large table with a sheet on it and a pillow. The first thing the nurse asked me on the way in the room was, how did your preparation go? Hmmmmm... I GUESS the word "preparation" can be used to describe having the s#%ts for 2 days straight while going on no food and little sleep. I told her "it was wonderful! Very cleansing! You really should try it. It is like going to a spa". As she began to describe the procedure, all I could hear was Charlie Brown's teacher...

Waa waa waa waaaaa rectum waa waaa colon waa insert. Waa waaa pump waa waa balloon waa waa waaa leakage (maybe you have to be in my head to understand it...)

So now the nurse tells me to lay on the table and she will insert the tube. She tells me she'll try to be gentle because most people are quite sensitive after the "preparation". NO S#%T SHERLOCK!!!

The next thing I know, I've got a tube shoved so far inside me that I figured barium must be a breath freshener, because the tube was in the back of my throat. Next she tried to inflate a balloon at the end of the tube in order to create a tight seal and keep the barium from leaking out (isn't that pleasant). I was clamped down so hard on that little f^@ker that there was no way she was getting any air into that thing. She tried and was unsuccessful.

After the doctor came in and asked if I had any questions (like I am going to ask questions when I have a tube stuck up my a$$ and prolong the process), the procedure began.

I am unsure why they bothered to lay a sheet down on the table, because they had me rolling around on the table like a pig on a spit. The sheet just ended up wrapped around me. As I rolled around on the table while the nurse behind the wall gave me orders on a microphone and a camera circled me I began to feel like a trained dog. Here I am, rolling around on a table with a tube up my a$$, while a woman in another room watches on a camera and gives me orders. This girl should get into the internet porn business!

So finally it was time to actually take the x-rays (apparently all the rolling around was to get the barium everywhere it was supposed to go). Meanwhile, I felt like I was sitting on Old Faithful and it was erupting! After about 10 minutes of enduring "Turn... Hold your breath... Breathe" and being filled with air and liquid, Brad (the lab assistant) ask me "How are you doing?".... HOW AM I DOING?!? How the hell do you think I am doing??? Are you expecting me to light up a cigarette and tell you you're the best I've ever had?!?

So... the table and camera moved around as the x-rays were taken. The table even stood straight up a couple of times! I felt like I was on some sick S&M amusement park ride! I figured that behind the wall, the nurse was wearing a skin-tight leather suit and thigh high boots, and there were whips and chains hanging on the wall.

Finally, the table stops moving and I think I am done... The nurse then comes out and says, you are almost done, just lay there and relax while the pictures load up on the screen. YEAH! OK! And if I relax, I am going to fly around the room like a barium propelled rocket. So there I lay... I feel like I have a tent pole stuck up my a$$, I am clenching like I have a lump of coal between my butt cheeks and I am trying to make diamonds. I look up and they have left the door open. I can see into the next room where all sorts of staff are walking around and chatting while I lay there feeling like a Pogo.

Eventually, after they take yet another x-ray, they say I am finished. The nurse tells me to try to hold in the barium while she removes the tube (like she has to tell me to clench). As she tries to pull out the tube she asks me to relax because I am holding on too tight. I told her to pull it harder 'cause I am NOT relaxing! After a short tug-of-war, the tube is finally out and I can go to the washroom and clean up.

But my ordeal is not yet over...

As I enter the bathroom, I know this is going to be a problem. To truly understand my problem, you must understand that I HATE public washrooms. I cannot s#%t while someone else is in the room or if there is no buffer-zone. Yes, it is a foolish little quirk, but that is just the way it is. This washroom was a closet sized toilet room right outside the x-ray room. I can clearly hear every word of what is being said in the other room from my closet, but I have no time to look for a more convenient washroom with a buffer zone, so I have no choice.

The best way to describe what happens next is to attempt to give you a mental picture. Imagine you have a balloon. Not one of those round balloons, but a loooong one that is maybe 3 or 4 metres long when inflated. If before you inflated this balloon, you put in about 2 cups of water, then inflated it fully and let it go, you would have a good idea of what I experienced. The sustained force of the air and liquid nearly lifted me clear off the seat. The worse thing was that this went on for almost half an hour. Boy did they ever pump me up.

Well, that is all for today. I hope you felt my pain!