[Warning: this post is about poop. If you are under the impression that women don’t poop, or that when we do poop, it just comes out in a daisy-scented spray of rainbows, you might want to skip this one.]
I have never been known for my iron stomach. As a teenager, almost all outings featured a painfully awkward intermission during which I had to play a game of Can I Use Your Bathroom Without Buying Something? wherever we happened to go after dinner. This is the one and only reason I am thankful that I never had a serious boyfriend in high school, because it’s one thing to explain your dire need to poop to your girlfriends, and entirely another to explain it to a guy from whom you’re hoping to get some sweet, sweet first-base action (possibly another reason I didn’t have a serious boyfriend).
This continued until my mid-twenties, when I finally broke down and got a colonoscopy, which revealed polyps in my colon, but not much else. (Side note: I was unaware how strong the anesthesia was going to be, and the next day I drove myself to work and attended our company Christmas party still completely out of it, and spent the whole party making googly eyes at a baby at the next table.) Somehow, though, the threat of another colonoscopy seemed to clear up my problems, and for years I became a respectable member of poop society (poopciety?).
But lately, my colon has decided it is once again unhappy, which makes no sense, because I give it super delicious food and never swallow safety pins or anything like that. Today, my colon demanded I go home in the middle of the day and finish work from there, cordoned off from the rest of my office in the Poop Corner of Shame. Which was fine, because the Poop Corner of Shame also includes my refrigerator and an endless supply of free Diet Pepsi, but still.
According to my doctor, I was supposed to go back for another colonoscopy every five years for the rest of my life, but so far, I have successfully avoided it by getting pregnant every time it was time to have it done (I will go to any lengths not to have to take the pre-colonoscopy colon destroyer). But now my uterus is closed for business, and I’m wondering if it’s time I take my colon’s advice, do the adult thing and schedule my long-overdue colonoscopy.
Or I guess I could adjust my diet and exercise more. But that sounds even less appealing.