When the nurse (instead of the doctor) called to give me the news that I had colitis and that I would have to take an enema, I had to stop her.

“Wait, what’s an enema?” I asked.

She explained.

I panicked. 

After I got off the phone with her, I Googled and Googled. My heart rate went up, my hands were shaking. I was literally dreading having to stick something up my butt to administer medication. And when you Google something like that, of course you’re bound to get everyone’s worst responses. People who are fine are not the ones likely to be commenting in forums, asking questions or complaining. If they’re fine, then they just do their thing. So all of my information was coming from people who hated it, who were having trouble, who had way worse colitis than I do, or who were probably just idiots.

But I didn’t know that and I didn’t want to admit that that could possibly be the case. Instead I just cried and complained to my husband and put myself in a terrible mood.

I had no idea what to expect. When I picked up the medication at the pharmacy, I was shocked to see them pull out a huge box and set it on the counter by the register. It had my name on it and my prescription. I think I was picturing tiny vials or something, not this gigantic box of who-knows-what.

I got home with the box, swearing and pissed off. I yelled at my husband, even though he’d thoughtfully brought home a bottle of champagne to celebrate the promotion I’d gotten, ironically, on the same day as my diagnosis.

I Googled some more about how to actually do it and I prepared myself for the worst.

So last night was my first “butt-drops.” I decided I like that term better than enema. Enema sounds so medical and gross and complicated. But it’s not that complicated. It’s like when you get an ear infection and you need to put drops in your ears to make it better. Except that ear infections hurt like hell, and my colitis doesn’t hurt at all.

It was not nearly as bad as I was expecting. I had over-thought it. The worst part was thinking about it. At night, I just laid down on my bed and got it over with. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t really feel uncomfortable, I didn’t feel like I immediately needed to go to the bathroom, like everyone online was saying. It only felt weird because I was thinking that it was going to feel weird. I was projecting the experience into something it wasn’t at all.

In fact, I’m almost totally okay with it, because, since I need to lay still for at least a half hour, I can use that time to read. It’s like I’m getting a mandated hour per day to read my book!

I was pretty sure I didn’t quite do it correctly last night, but I didn’t worry about it. I’ve got a lot of days to do this and catch up. And unfortunately, my doctor told me I have to do it twice a day, even though the box and the pharmacist said it’s usually only once a day. Guess I’m cool like that.

I did round two this morning and again, no troubles. Not to mention, in the morning, I can’t just stay laying down for 8 hours like I can at night. I only get 30 minutes to be still and then I have to get up and go to work. And yet, even though I had to get up and drive to work, I still didn’t feel like I needed to go to the bathroom. It didn’t feel like anything at all. I was definitely overthinking this.

So even though this is not particularly pleasant, I will do it, I will fix myself and I will get it over with. And in less than two months, my doctor said I should be done. Fingers crossed!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s