No Andy; nothing more than some discomfort and residual flatulence.
Maybe i've been fortunate - or you've been unfortunate.
'Pain' thresholds and competence of staff.......
Here, they sedate you and my GCSE french didn't cover the technical aspects of ass probing.
I think the only French you need to worry about is 'merde'...
[i]residual flatulence[/i]
I like that phrase and shall endeavour to use it.
"Excuse me, just a bit of residual flatulence'
I guess anyone in the UK will soon have to pay for upgrades won't they.
Go for the bottom (ha!) tier and they'll stick a box brownie on a length of scaffolding pipe up your hole.
If you want a flashy fibre optic snake and lubricant, it'll cost you £500.
An update.
The day of the op and come and gone. Way easier than expected but came with significant risk of a code brown.
Yesterday morning at 8am the final picolax and associated pills were consumed and the waiting began.
The op was at 2.30 and a 1.2 mile walk separated the safety of my apartment from the hospital. Hopefully plenty of time for the poo powder to kick-in and work its magic.
9.30, nothing, 10.30 nothing, 11.30 nothing. Starting to think I'd emptied myself with sachet 1 ... but then things start to stir.
12.30 the gurgles start and the next hour is a blur of waddling around the apartment and wiping my myself ( which now resembles a clown mouth )
So, the reality kicks in. I need to get from here to there without shitting my pants ........
I need a plan -
I get on google earth and analyse the route for potential emergency " poo " stops. I'm thinking secluded areas, ally ways, high hedges, farm tracks etc. When the grumbles start you literally have 30 seconds before you need to hose your legs off.
Over the 1.2 miles I find three, maybe four safe havens and maybe another two in a severe " code brown " situation. Higher risk, but this is a high stake situation.
Next step was to plan for the worse.
What do I need to take with me should I not make to a " safe spot ".
I need a shit kit.....
The shit kit consisted of.
Two pair of clean pants
Two large micro fibre cloths.
6 large sheets of kitchen towel ( one sheet - if only )
Hand sanitizer ( I'm not a barbarian )
Baby wipes.
A fresh pair shorts ( in a nice cammo fabric to hide any sharts )
Large zip lock bag to contain any contaminated fall out.
Ok. 1.50 ,time to go and get comfortable with the knowledge that at some point in the next 30 mins illl probably be sobbing in someone's front garden covered in my own filth.
Let's go.... oh hand on, gurgles and another bolt of brown lightening.
And we're off.
1.2 miles has never been so far. I felt like an unsupported explorer searching uncharted new lands.
A few false alarms along the way saw me jump in a bush or two but I reached the safety of the hospital without using my pants as a sieve.
As mentioned above, I'm in Switzerland and I speak little French. The hospital receptionist is the final hurdle before I can relax and finally wipe the seats of stress away.
Ok, she doesn't speak English, I'll show her the letter I packed with the shit kit.... you did pack the letter ..... oh #%*+
Now picture in your mind a sweaty bloke trying not to shit himself while mimicking a sweaty bloke trying not to shit himself having a camera a three foot of cable fed into his " clowns mouth "
She laughed, I laughed ( gently ) and she walked me to where I needed to go.
We're at the correct reception. New lady is lovely, very helpful and speaks English. I feel safe, I feel the worse is over and can see the end to this nightmare.
After this, nothing can phase me.....
Until I meet the Dr, who appears to be a Swiss jimmy Savil but without the gold and shell suit.
I like to think of myself as strong willed guy but sometimes you just need to drop your shoulders and accept your fate. At this point I hadn't eaten or stopped shitting 24 hours, I didn't have it in me to run away and fight, whatever will be, will be.
They put me under for the op. I have no idea what happened during that time, to be honest I don't really want to know.
They didn't fill me up with air and I wasn't sore afterwards ( no bite marks either )
When I woke up they told me everything was fine and dandy, no issues and no follow up required 🙂
So if you ever need to have a colonoscopy don't worry, the op is child's play compared to what you've already been though.
You need to worry once you open that first packet of picolax and taste it's not unpleasant lemony tang. Your on a ten hour shitty wave of emotion you cant get off until it wants to release you of its brown fingered grip.
Picolax has claimed another victim.
Glad all went well.
Time to tuck into some pie and chips? 😉
"on and on".....
Best forum name ever, given the experience. 😀
Any one else here who suffers bowel problems who reads these threads and just rolls their eyes and thinks "welcome to my world"?
I could eat something that triggers my ibs (hell, sometimes I don't need to eat anything at all!) and have these symptoms, plus others, for 2 or 3 days. It's like Russian Roulette, but it can happen any time, any where.
My wife is lactose intolerant so I have some understanding of how life would be.
Just managed my first fart 🙂
It's good to be back in action
On and on: reading your story made me giggle, laugh and cry.