Simply Aging, Simply Colonoscopies, Simply… Help!

Well, folks, it’s official—your girl is getting old. How do I know? Let’s say my last weekend plans didn’t involve brunch or beach days… they involved a gallon of prep solution, a bathroom, and prayers for mercy. That’s right—I had my very first colonoscopy this week! (Cue the confetti made of saltine crackers and clear broth.)

Let me tell you, the prep was absolutely the worst part. You haven’t known humility until you’ve scheduled your entire day around “staying near a toilet.” Saturday, Sunday, AND Monday were basically a liquid diet followed by a liquid situation. By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was ready to roll straight into that surgical suite and tell them, “Take what you need, just don’t make me drink any more Miralax horror juice!”

The procedure itself? A breeze. I don’t even remember it. What I do remember is the balloon animal of air they left in my body afterward. I’m pretty sure there was enough pressure in my belly to launch me into orbit. It hurt. My back hurt. My feelings hurt.

But here’s the great news—everything looked good! No issues at all, except for those pesky hemorrhoids that have been hanging around since I gave birth to Carrley… 21 years ago. Apparently, they’ve decided they’re permanent residents. But honestly? If that’s the only bad news, I’ll take it.

And get this—I even got some cool pics from the procedure to bring home. Nothing like a few colon snapshots to stick on the fridge. You know, just your average Tuesday morning keepsakes.

Good news: I don’t have to do that again for ten. whole. years. Thank you, Jesus and gastroenterology.

Now, why so early, you ask? I’m not quite 45 yet, but hematology and rheumatology said, “Let’s just peek in there, shall we?” to help rule out causes of my persistent anemia. So… you know me, always an overachiever.

And just when you think the party’s over—SURPRISE! Next week is my endoscopy! (Yay?) The prep isn’t nearly as bad, so I’m holding onto that little sliver of joy with both hands. Can’t wait to see what my esophagus is up to—maybe it’s writing a memoir.

But wait, there’s more!

Last week, I also had an MRI on my right hand, courtesy of my rheumatologist. Still testing seronegative for rheumatoid arthritis, but she’s trying to get a better look at what might be causing the pain, swelling, and general nonsense I’ve been dealing with. I got a sneak peek at the scans—because of course I did—and after a brief (okay, hours-long) date with Dr. Google, I’ve decided there’s probably some inflammation, but no erosion. So that’s…something?

Do I have any medical degrees? No.
Did I still analyze those images like it was a GRE exam? Absolutely.
Will I keep WebMD-ing until someone physically stops me? 100%.

All this to say—getting older isn’t for the weak. But I’m still here, still smiling (most days), and still oversharing it all with you, because that’s what Simply Sina does best.

Until next time, may your scopes be clear, your joints be kind, and your prep drinks taste like literally anything else.