After months of waiting, months of thinking “I could just cancel it,” months of occasional overwhelming anxiety, I finally had the colonoscopy this week. I was up front with all of the staff about my anesthesia incident and they were excellent. I spoke with the anesthesiologist beforehand as well. I had no problems at all; they only gave me propofol and it was lights out. When I came out, however, I was crying and gasping for air. Not sure why? I wasn’t afraid though. Obviously this wasn’t general anesthesia but it was night and day compared to the absolute terror I felt that day and it underscored the fact that it was terror I felt. I had no nightmares when I slept after the procedure either.
The downside is that my GI removed a couple of polyps. Now, I am in my 30s. This is Not Normal. They were both small and one so small it is extremely unlikely to be malignant. The other one is a mystery. It may or may not be malignant so now, it’s the waiting (cue Tom Petty). This also makes me really glad I went through with it. I will surely have to do it again well before I am 50 (the age when screening starts for those with normal risk in the United States) based on the discovery of polyps alone, but how soon depends on the pathology report. How urgent my demands for genetic testing will be also depend on this result.
Now I think I have a small base of trust and a good experience to build on for future procedures and/or surgeries, which seem inevitable given that I have a body that seems to be much older at the cellular level than my chronological years betray. I can only hope that maybe it will help with some of my other physician trust issues and propensity to cry and/or become extremely irritable when I have medical encounters.