TRIGGER WARNING! I’m going to talk about the importance of good gut health and keeping an eye on your poo.

Did you know there’s an app you can download to your phone that will track your bowel habits? It’s called PLOP. (I couldn’t believe it either!) While, this may be considered a gross topic to some, to me it’s all about health and prevention. I’ve had far too many people in my life die from colon cancer, including my father, three aunts and two uncles.

I certainly don’t want to gross anyone out, so don’t read on if you find toilet topics or poo discussions unbearable.

From a very early age, I’ve had issues with my stomach. Cramping, diarrhoea, constipation, you name it, I had it. In the 70’s and 80’s my Nana Byrne used to give me hot milk with pepper, while my mam insisted that a nice cup of warm 7-up would do the job. They used to quibble over which was the best remedy.

I had my first colonoscopy when I was 17. It was Dublin in 1989, and I don’t think pain meds were as easy to come by as they are today. I’d just returned from a squash tournament in Australia, and I recall the doctor making small talk with me as he inserted the long black rubber tube into my rectum. There I was lying on my side, avoiding eye contact with the assisting nurse. I was petrified of what was about to occur.

All at once, the doctor said: ‘So, I hear you’ve been travelling for squash.’

To which I shakily replied: ‘yes, I was just …. And then the tube went in…  in AustrAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLIAAAA’.

I’ll never forget it. I think I scared the living daylights out of the nurse who was monitoring the procedure.

A year later, I had my first gastroscopy, the one where they put a tube down your throat, you know, the one where you can’t help but gag incessantly every time they ask you to swallow the damn thing. I came out of that one and told my mother I wouldn’t wish that exam on my worst enemy.

As the years went on, I continued to have issues which were finally diagnosed as irritable bowel syndrome. There’s no cure for it, but I have to be careful with everything I put in my stomach. (including copious amounts of prosecco) I was given so many different opinions. One doctor told me I needed more fibre, another told me I needed less. I had all the tests for food allergies and at one point, while living in Philadelphia, I had such bad pain that I was told I had a twisted colon and part of it would have to be removed. I’ll never forget that examination. I was brought into a room and presented with a forward-facing chair, reminiscent of those ergonomically correct posture chairs, or one of those classic massage chairs. You know the one. I knelt on it and leaned forward with my derriere facing backwards. An opening in the back of my glamorous robe gave the doctor full permission to amply insert his gloved and lubricated index finger up my bottom. My eyes nearly popped out of my head on that one.

Suffice to say, given my family history, I’ve had multiple colonoscopies in the last 35 years since my first one. In fact, I used to rate each country on their colonoscopy service. America was the finest. Never any pain during the procedure and the drugs were great. Ireland – not so much. When I returned to Dublin in 2015, I needed an emergency one and was sent to Cavan to get it done. I will never forget the pair of black paper shorts I was given to wear, with a hole cut out for easy access to one’s nether regions. There were no fancy gowns in Cavan. Leave on your t-shirt and sweatshirt, just put these shorts on and enjoy the breeze… I felt NO drugs were administered during this one. I screamed in pain as the tube moved around my intestines, and eventually I told the doctor he needed to stop. It was such an uncomfortable violation and I’m not even sure he got to finish the procedure.

However, there ARE two silver linings to having colonscopies. 1. The warm toast with butter that you get after the procedure, (trust me, you’ll be starving), and 2. the symphony of gas explosions that plays out in the room with all the other patients who’ve just had the same procedure. It’s hilarious! Anyway, I’m just waiting to see how it goes in Prague, now that I’m living here. Colonoscopy by Google Translate is bound to be interesting. I’ll be sure to report back.

As for haemorrhoids and fissures, don’t get me started on those. I have a distinct memory of when I was living in Reading in 1990, and training as a professional squash player. I had what felt like a giant grape protruding its little purple head. It was excruciating. I was 19 years old, and not really sure what was happening, but I could barely cross the road before the green man started blinking. He was about to turn into the red man while I was still taking slow, wide steps, to get to the other side. Cars were revving up their engines signalling they were ready to burst across the zebra crossing that I was so embarrassingly trying to navigate. When I finally got to the squash club where I also worked as receptionist, my friend had put a rubber ring on the stool for me. (It really helped actually, although was a source of endless humorous conversation!)

What on earth is this blog about? Am I really that full of shit? Ha, see what I did there? I’m talking about gut health. It’s so important. Most of us have had issues throughout our life. And some are afraid to talk about it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I consider it a privilege to be still alive at age 52. Far too many didn’t make it this far. So, barring a tragic accident or untimely death, I’m going to do my best to stay alive. If that means downloading an app to monitor my bowel habits, I’ll do it! I draw the line at adding photos however (yes, there’s an option to add a picture of your poo). That’s a bit much for even me.

So, what’s the bottom line? Keep an eye on your stools; they’re likely to tell you more about your gut health than you realise. Prevention is key in our quest to live longer and fuller lives.

Thanks for reading!