I’m not the first, nor the most creative person, to try to appeal to my peers to get their screening colonoscopies. It’s been nearly two decades since Dave Barry wrote his piece for the New York Times on behalf of Boomers. Gen Z is already on Instagram and TikTok, demystifying their diagnostic colonoscopies (procedures performed on people with symptoms to investigate underlying conditions). So here’s your Millennial colonoscopy story.
I grew up hearing two things: One, that my maternal grandfather died of colon cancer in 1987, the year before I was born. The second was the prevailing wisdom that colonoscopies are awful, but we have to muddle through them (and that the prep is the worst part, but then you get the relief of the anesthesia-induced nap).
I have no further details about my grandfather, other than that he was delayed in seeking care for his symptoms. In terms of the colonoscopy experience of others, I’ve watched my mother complain about the volume of liquid that she has to drink, and I’ve seen huge plastic jugs of Golytely prep sit outside the rooms of hospitalized patients. In the case of the latter, I was the doctor who ordered them. I spent medical school and residency hoping that they would develop a better test than a colonoscopy. Instead, based on updated evidence, the screening age has been lowered from 50 to 45 years old.
By the time I was scheduled for a diagnostic colonoscopy in January 2026, I had gotten over my fear of getting general anesthesia. I was glad to get this fearsome experience over and done with, well before turning 45. I was determined to make this a positive endeavor.
I am nothing if not over-prepared, so I turned to Reddit for details from others who have gone before me. The r/colonoscopy Subreddit is a treasure trove of information, though you have to separate the wheat from the chaff. There is also plenty of bias based on who posts, but you can find any story, positive or negative. Some people have difficulty with the volume and/or taste of the prep; others report severe pain from repeated liquid stools. Most appreciate the anesthesia experience.
I knew volume was not a concern for me, as a person dedicated to adequate hydration. Taste was a concern, but I pooled the collective wisdom of Reddit and colleagues, and determined that cutting the prep with apple juice, chilling it, and drinking through a wide boba straw would be sufficient. I knew not to use toilet paper, and instead used a “portable bidet” (a plastic peri bottle). I also used plenty of barrier cream (like Desitin).
Perhaps the low-residue diet was my biggest foe: my daily 25 grams of fiber, while excellent for gut health, was not ideal for scope visibility or prep ease. I planned ahead with the ferocity of a seasoned meal prepper (I am not actually a meal prepper), and first cut out berries and psyllium husk powder (the worst offenders). Then I dialed down the fiber content of my diet by gradually replacing all meals with hearty soups. Your mileage may vary, but the day before the prep and the clear liquid diet, I placed myself on a full liquid diet (all liquids are permitted, including thick soups and smoothies).
This meant, paradoxically, I was no longer feeling hungry the day of the prep. I did usual activities in the morning and up to 3 PM, when the clinic advised me to start the prep. I mixed the prep with apple juice as planned. To me, it tasted fine. The volume was also fine.
The worst parts were the cold shakes and the persistent rumbling I experienced in bed later that night. Other than that, I had blocked out my day to spend in the bathroom. Every 30 minutes for two hours, I expelled fluids without any cramping, nausea, or other untoward effects. After that, it was hourly for about three more hours. It was predictable and painless. It did not feel anything like having a “stomach bug.” I tried to sleep, woke up in the morning, and finished the other half of the prep.
The appointment was the smoothest medical appointment I’ve attended. Maybe not ever, but in recent memory. Once I was called back from the waiting room, I was shown a tiny dressing room and provided two gowns and green bags for my belongings. There were instructions on the walls, in multiple languages, with accompanying photos showing how to wear the two gowns, as well as a reminder to remove ALL clothing.
After that, I was taken to a stretcher in a curtained bay. They took my vitals, did my intake, and placed my IV. I met the anesthesiologist, then they wheeled me into the endoscopy suite. I consented to the procedure, and then it was over.
I woke up in recovery with two types of crackers, Lorna Doone cookies straight from the 90s, juice cups, and a small can of ginger ale. My glasses and phone were on the bedside table. It took about 6 minutes to wake up fully, and some time after that to feel like I could stand up, get dressed, and walk out the door with my responsible adult.
I don’t know how better to demystify a colonoscopy than to tell this story and share some tips. I’ve talked about it on social media, I’ve texted my family group chat, I’ve told my friends, and I’ve started to tell my patients.
So here is one more story. I did my research online, and I prepared myself. While not the best two days of my life, the experience went as predicted and was not terrible. The most exciting part of my story is that it was not exciting.
If you are due for a screening colonoscopy, schedule it.
If you have symptoms, talk to your doctor and get evaluated.
