WTF: The Prologue

When I told my OB a little less than a year ago that there was blood in my stool, she freaked the fuck out, saying it could be due to a serious problem, all the while I'm thinking, pregnancy is pretty serious, no, and aren't your shits supposed to get all wonky when you're knocked up?

I met with the GI specialist, and she and I agreed that I couldn't do a whole hell of a lot while I was pregnant, but if my craps didn't return to normal by my six week post-partum checkup, we would reevaluate.

Six weeks came and went, and since things were moving downhill with respect to my BMs, I agreed a colonoscopy was no longer such a wild idea. Two and a half months later, I endured the bowel prep--drinking a gallon of Hell's Gatorade which triggered my gag reflex like a punch to the back of my throat--and the subsequent pissing out my ass for several hours. I was relieved that the worst was over. Except it wasn't. Not by a long fucking shot.

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