My Diagnosis

My First Colonoscopy
October 2003

I delayed one year before going to get my colonoscopy. It hurts my wife told me. I finally scheduled my procedure. My primary care doctor Mark Greenbaum had inspected every portal of my body. He said it is time for the scope. Routine colonoscopy. “After fifty, it is time to get this done.” He advised.

My Doctor had guided me through treatment for depression, nasal pollips, hernia operations, blood pressure treatment and so on. He always answered my numerous questions.

I glanced at the neatly stacked magazines in the doctor’s waiting room. The frosted glass sliding door hid the receptionist from view. Time to sign the clipboard with my patient name and arrival time.

A tall well dressed woman entered with her husband. He slowly signed the clipboard and the woman sat down next to me. I started to chit chat with her to pass the time but she stared at her husband who was methodically completing paperwork. She held the car keys in her hand and whispered in my ear.

“I want to make sure he does not bolt out the waiting room door. My husband will find any excuse to run away from his colonoscopy.”

She joined her husband at the frosted window hiding the receptionist and helped her husband get signed in for his procedure. She had a canvas bag in her hand stuffed with magazines to read and probably healthy snacks.

Later I learned that only about 50 precent of the patients show up and complete their colonoscopy. Leaving 50 percent skipping this procedure.

"Mr. Beckstein?" The nurse dressed in a generic medical outfit looked at me over her reading glasses.

I follow the nurse for the normal weight in and blood pressure check. Then off to a tiny room to watch and educational video about Colonoscopy on a tiny TV.

“Any questions about the procedure?” the doctor asked.

“Will it hurt?” I inquired.

“No. You will receive a light dose of anti-anxiety medication and then an IV of a medication that will block the feeling in your body. You will be awake during the procedure and be able to watch the whole thing on a TV monitor.” The doctor replied.

“Ok lets do it” I said.

I booked the procedure two weeks before Halloween 2003.

The Prep
Off to the drug store to get the prep meds to clean out my colon for my procedure. Got my supplies, read the doctor’s instructions and positioned my body at my kitchen sink in my home. I looked out the window at my beautiful garden and watched my dog Sally and cat Sylvester corner a squirrel in the back yard.

The prep for my colonoscopy was this salty tasting solution that I needed to consume completely. I took a sip and threw up in my kitchen sink. Bent over the counter I thought of my dear friend Sally who fought breast cancer for so many years and lost her life to the disease.

I took another swig and puked again. I was empting my stomach not my colon. I finished the salt solution and cleaned the kitchen sink. Sally and Sylvester were still chasing that squirrel.

Next phase of my prep was an enema. Never remembering having an enema before. I read the directions then positioned my body on the kitchen floor this time raising my knees to my chest in fetal position and inserting the applicator into my rectum slowly. Now I get to empty my bowels into the toilet. I think I dropped ten pounds of weight that morning with the puking and toilet adventure. Time to go for my colonoscopy.

The Colonoscopy Procedure
The doctor was wearing a mask so were the nurses. I think they were getting ready for Halloween. Probably the Valium making me feel more relaxed. Lets see I lay on my side with bent knees. There is the TV so I can watch the procedure. Oh goody.

The doctor says “Good Morning, how are you.”

“Fine.” I reply. He is probably not too interested in my puking in the kitchen sink story I thought. Lets just get this thing DONE I thought.

The doctor hooks up and IV with my final meds. “You may nod off to sleep” he said. Fine I thought. I really don’t want to watch your TV anyhow. I hate TV.

Then I woke up with a jolt. My doctor was staring at me. The nurses were staring at me.

“Mr. Beckstein you have colon cancer. You must schedule an abdominal resection surgery as soon as possible.” The doctor advised.

He handed me a small piece of paper with hand written instructions. I rolled over on my back on the gurney in shock. Deer in headlights. Stunned. The nurses had their masks removed and they said, “You will passing a lot of gas from this procedure.”

The doors of the procedure room opened and I felt like I was going through an automatic car wash leaving the procedure room experiencing the biggest fart of my entire life.

I have Colon Cancer! Oh my God.