Operation Cleanse Charlie's Colon

This whole mess started with an infomercial. It was 2 in the morning, and a program came on proclaiming the health benefits of what a colon cleanse can do. Give you more energy, shrink an extended abdomen, help you sleep better, make you more successful as an astronaut…you know how those things go. Now, for those of you who don’t know much about me, I am a willing victim of “3 payments of $19.95” and I was intrigued. Mostly because Matt (my husband) complains that he has a man pooch and no matter how much he diets, it never goes away. The tummy he has is minimal at best, but I know what it feels like to be self conscious about a body part. Hence, the blog.

So I started researching colon cleanses, reading reviews, and yes, Shannon, looking at the pictures of what has been the “end” result. I was hooked and determined that I did, indeed, need a colon cleanse. More importantly, I was ready to do it. But there was one obstacle to overcome.

I am a poopaphobe.

Yep, I am freakishly afraid of poop. Let me clarify this: diapers were no problem. It came from babies and babies are cute and adorable. But grown-up poo had become taboo (or maybe ta-poo) for me since I did a 3 month stint as a C.N.A. at a nursing home. Matt is well aware of this, because he constantly is kicked out of the bathroom if I have to have a “session.” This happens quite often because we only have one bathroom in the house. I seem to have it in my mind that if he sees me pooping (or heaven forbid wiping!) it will take away what little attractive prowess I currently possess.

Nevertheless, regardless of any phobia or deep rooted psychological issues I may have, I needed to give this colon cleanse a shot. Because I want to feel less bloated. And have more energy. And because all my friends were too chicken to try it first. Yes, I mean you.

It came to my attention that everyone wants to read about the experience of a colon cleanse- not DO a colon cleanse for themselves. I have to tell you, there is a very thin line between courage and stupidity, and I am really not sure which one I was grasping as I purchased my bottle of Super Colon Cleanse at our local health food store. (http://www.countrystorehealthfoods.net/) (they are awesome, by the way!) I was pretty much double dog dared to do this. And my ignorance and my curiosity got the better of me too. So, I began the journey to a healthy colon on a Thursday morning. I have pictures of everything I used in case you find the courage to clean your own gutters after reading this. Everything is available at Walmart and the website listed above, and the entire regimen of pills cost me about $30.

Things were flying smooth for the first day. One or two sessions, and we were in business. Nothing spectacular or forceful, that is. Just regular ‘ole poo. Then on Friday, life started to get a wee bit more interesting.

In order to assess this situation and give it an educational edge, I feel that we should use the same system they use on diamonds: cut, color, clarity, shape, weight, and certification. This seems to be thorough. I am not sure how to apply some of those things, but I’m sure I will think of something along the way.

So on Friday, I had a 5 minute head start to get to the meeting place for my session. And meetings and sessions were conducted about 14 times that day. There is really no way for me to gauge the weight, but I personally lost a pound that day, so that’s something to think about. I can only say that the clarity was obsolete, and “Frank,” my lone ranger of hemorrhoids that arrived during pregnancy #2, was not thrilled with the situation and began showing signs of unhappiness. Color was fairly normal, and the colon cleanse was certifiably effective.

By Saturday, I had to conduct meetings and sessions 20 times, and I felt stressed by the poophobia. Especially since my husband (whose favorite question for people is “What is the craziest thing you have ever seen?”) kept peeking into the meeting place to see what the outcome was. He, too, wasn’t going through a colon cleanse without the experience of someone else. I was officially a lab rat, and Frank was not amused. In fact, by Saturday night, he was downright irritated. Weight? I lost another 8 ounces that day, color was a bit more varied. Clarity? Well, there was nothing opaque, but I experienced the appearance of something I (not so fondly) refer to as “booty-snot.” It wasn’t poo, but it wasn’t not poo. Just something that you might experience if your butt could sneeze.

Sunday was just as long and busy, although Frank went on strike. Every time I sat down, he protested and hurt, and after a particularly long meeting that evening, he decided to get some well deserved attention, insisting that I scratch every 10 seconds. So there I was, running to meetings with a 10 second warning, scratching my behind, then wiping as gently as I could, which would immediately lead to more scratching. I was in agony, I lost another 6 ounces, got over my poophobia, and was beginning to wonder what I had gotten myself into.

Monday morning arrived and the true colors of the colon cleanse showed up. When I say colors, I mean really bright colors. These can only be described as the colors you might see in a tropical rain forest or in a box of Lucky Charms or Fruity Pebbles- bright magical oranges, greens that would make a leprechaun cry from envy, and a disturbing shade of blue that didn’t make any sense. Unless it was some bubble gum I swallowed in 6th grade, but that’s the only thing I could think of. Frank was infuriated at the situation, which made hitting the treadmill impossible. The idea of my cheeks meeting and putting the pressure on Frank was more than I could stand. Thank heavens for my 23 sessions. At least then I could separate the cheeks and let Frank breathe. It was at this point that I was certifiable, and vowed never to purchase generic toilet paper again. There is no sense in saving money there, because the ointment I had to purchase cost far more than the $3 I saved. I also invested in Kandoo wipes, and found them to be extraordinarily effective and a welcome relief. Frank was still irritated, but at least the itching stopped.

By Tuesday, things started to slow down. By Thursday, things were back to normal, and Frank went back to his usual state of hidden anonymity, and I went back to status quo, having a regular once a day session.

Over the entire week, I dropped 4 pounds, (however quickly gained it back with one cheating meal at the Outback), went through 10 rolls of cheap toilet paper, and wrote the manufacturers of Kandoo wipes a thank you letter. I learned that although I did spend some time in Haiti, I had no creepy crawlies buried in my intestines, which was good. If I had seen something wiggling in the water I would have flipped out. I felt less bloated, but did not recieve a magical energy boost. I was also thankful that I had no where important to go during these 7 days, because that could have really messed things up. So if you are considering this process, I recommend you schedule it when you have lots and lots of free time, and enough toilet paper to TP a mansion. Trust me on this one. You don’t want to discover you are on your last roll in the middle of this. Stock up!

I also learned what I don’t want to be when I grow up.

That would be the job of “Stool Pigeon.”