Warning: If you are currently eating or have plans to in the near future, cancel them.
“Whenever you’re ready to begin your colonic irrigation, you can go ahead and insert the tube into your rectal opening. There is coconut oil in the dish over there for your comfort,” the technician said in a soothing tone that did not at all convey the gravity of the situation.
My eyes darted to the light blue ~instrument~ in her gloved hand.
“How… far?” I whispered. Was it a whisper? It sounded to me like a whisper. But she must’ve heard me, because I was then informed it would “only be an inch”.
I know why you’re here. You’re not here for fluff and pussyfooting around, or a watered down version of the truth. No, you’re here to find out exactly what it’s like to have the crap flushed out of you. What colonic irrigation is really like. And that’s what you’re going to get.
Because I weathered the shit storm without an umbrella so you can go forth into the scary, intimidating world of getting your colon cleansed prepared.
So take my hand – which I can assure you at no point throughout this process came in contact with poo – and let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
Every good investigation starts with research. So, I Googled ‘colonic’. I read things and I looked at diagrams. I also watched extremely uncomfortable videos that may or may not have been shot in the 80s. After sifting through a mountain of information, I found myself on the website for Pinnacle Health, a world-leading naturopathic clinic.
Colonic Irrigation begins with a deeper and a far more comprehensive cleanse that boosts energy, improves mood, vitality and overall health, the colonic description read.
Yeah. My butt hole clenched in fear too.