Last of the Butt Stuff

Seriously. I hope to never talk about this again. Okay? Okay.

You know that horrible shit they make you drink? Colyte. It’s called Colyte, though apparently some people take different stuff. Anyway. It’s pure Devil Juice. It starts out so deceptive. I dumped lemonade in it, shook it up and got it super cold. The first glass tasted like, “What the fuck is everyone’s problem? This isn’t so bad!” It was salty lemonade. Granted, it wasn’t tasty, but it wasn’t as horrible as everyone made it out to be. The second glass tasted pretty much the same. The third glass?

The third glass tasted like, “Oh My Fuck, I will never get through this deceptive Devil Juice.”

By the last three glasses of the night, it was coming back up. And not from the right end. I couldn’t finish it when I got up to do so at 3:00 AM. I tried. I tried my best. But when it started coming back up, I said fuck it. (That’s what the last glass tasted like: “Fuck this shit.”) They can either do the procedure or they can’t. There’s little use in drinking it if I’m only gonna puke it up.

The rest of it? I’m not gonna go into details. Let’s just leave it at this: I wish there was a healthy option to never shit again in my life.


Fast forward to 5:00 AM. I got there on time, but that Colyte wasn’t finished with me yet. Oh no. I don’t understand why they make you drink it all the way up to procedure time (nearly so). I feel like I could have taken care of things a lot sooner and felt a lot better. Oh well.


Let’s skip the unsavory bits and get to the results: no visible signs of cancer, though he did take tissue samples to send to the lab. I’m supposed to see him in 2-4 weeks. (Which will be my first time meeting him. I’m assuming he’s met me by now…) I’m told there was severe inflammation and lots of ulcers. I’m also told that I’m not allowed to take NSAIDs anymore, which I have grossly abused because of chronic headache and migraine problems. Time to hold my GP’s feet to the fire on that.

So yes. Overall really good news. My only concern now, really, is finding a better way to manage my headaches. AND. Take better care of my nutritional health. Much better care.

No cancer, dudes. No. Fucking. Cancer. Not even any polyps.


And that’s the last of the butt stuff. I promise I’m at least as sick of talking about it as you are of seeing it in your feeds!