Oh And Possibly Cancer.

I had my colonoscopy. It was every inch as traumatic as I thought it would have been. My period came three days beforehand and I’m usually on for at least five days. I was mortified telling one guy and three women that I was bleeding and asking if I should leave my tampon in or take it out.

On top of this, I also had two days of ‘prep work’ to do which essentially meant eating very little, drinking a lot of water, and downing these vile tasting laxative drinks that quite frankly, are the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life. As were the very frequent trips to the bathroom for hours afterwards.

I couldn’t get the balls on my tongue bar unscrewed and I was told they wouldn’t perform the procedure if I had any piercings left in. They were going up my ass for fucks sake, why the hell would they worry about what was in my mouth? The piercer that was meant to be helping me get the fucker out didn’t turn up for work the morning I was due to go in, and after crying my eyes out and stressing about it for three days beforehand, the surgeon that was going up my ass wasn’t even bothered by the metal in my face at all. In the slightest. My septum almost closed up in the few hours it was out of my face and I had to re-pierce it myself with the bar I happened to have to hand that was almost as bad as getting the piercing done in the first place. In case you were wondering, yes it does fucking hurt. No I would never get it done again. Ever. In my life. Fuck that. And he wasn’t even bothered. I didn’t even need to take it out! Asshole!

They couldn’t get that needle thing in my hand where the sedative and pain killers were going to go. They took twenty minutes beating the shit out of my hand trying to get a vein to show up and stay up, then when they pierced my skin, my heart rate shot up, my oxygen levels went down, I passed out, oxygen mask, blind fear, mama crying, the lot. Two days of no eating and a water diet had finished me off. Chronic diarrhoea, caffeine withdrawals, fear of needles, fear of the colonoscopy, fear of cancer… I was a mess.

I don’t remember much about the actual colonoscopy. Like I remember him shoving a pipe up my ass and having a good look around. I remember there being periods of sharp pain. Mostly I think the sedative and pain killers did the trick. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever gone through. Having the canula inserted into my hand was worse. I remember him taking parts of my insides away with what looked like little earwig style pincers. I remember the little bits he’d snapped bleeding inside me.

I don’t remember what the nurse said to me after the procedure. I don’t remember getting dressed. I remember trying to get some of my piercings back in. Probably not the best idea in my highly sedated state but fuck it, I did it anyway. I felt completely naked without my piercings. I had no makeup on, I was in a hospital gown with paper shorts that had a butt flap in them, and I’d been anally raped by a man I’d never seen before while two women watched. My piercings were going back in. I needed some of my former self back.

Jock had messaged me in the morning asking me to let him know how it had all gone on. I said “Will do”. I never heard from him again the whole day. I’d figured he’d try and call or something. I totally would have done. Wouldn’t you? Well, he didn’t. I didn’t hear anything from him this morning either. I messaged him and started a fight because that’s what I do. He shouted at me down the phone. I hung up. He tried to call back and I hung up again. Fuck him and fuck his shit. I don’t need to be shouted at right now. I need someone that is going to support me and hold my hand throughout all this, not kick me while I’m down which is how it constantly feels.

So he doesn’t know what’s wrong. Still. He has no clue. It’s not good either. I’ve got Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Diverticulosis and they found a polyp. Apparently that’s not good in a 28 year old girl. A 2mm polyp. Hardly even big enough to mention really. It’s been sent off for a biopsy along with six other chunks of my inner gut. I got given a leaflet to read. One in ten end up being positive for cancer. They are as common as 1 in 4 people over the age of 50. They are rare under that age. In fact, both my conditions are. The consultant before I had the procedure said to me, in fact he personally guaranteed me that I wouldn’t have cancer or diverticulosis because I wasn’t old enough. He said that to my face in front of my mother. I WOULD NOT have either of those problems. And yet here I am faced with one of them, and I’m STILL faced with the possibility of the other. The colonoscopy was meant to rule OUT cancer, not find it… I need to wait 10-14 days for the biopsy results.

Fuck. It’s gonna be a long two weeks. I must have been a real fucking bitch in a former life to deserve all this shit. A painful breakup, and now a painful condition. Oh and possibly cancer.

Give me a fucking break.