Adventures in colorectal surgery I

Some of you have been interested in my stories of time spent in the colorectal wing of the Cleveland Clinic so I've decided to chronicle them a bit. I know it doesn't sound like something that could be amusing but thankfully, I found myself laughing a lot more than worrying and that's a good thing.
I'll start at the beginning.

So my first visit to the Cleveland Clinic was pretty intimidating. Mind you, I hadn't been to see a colorectal surgeon since I was 13 years old and my memories are not fond ones as I'm sure you can imagine. And even just thinking about it colorectal is just one of those words that makes you clench your buttocks together almost involuntarily which is pretty much how I sat all that day.

After nervously waiting in the waiting area about 20 minutes my name was called. It was one of those moments you dread. You're sitting there minding your own business casually looking at all the other poor patients and wondering whats wrong with them then you hear your name. Like having your name announced over the loud speaker at school to go to the Principal's office, and everyone looks up at you as you gather your stuff and walk out of the waiting room.

The examination room is small and the exam table is in the center of the room, not off to the side like in other doctors offices. There are huge lights over the exam table, the kind you see in operating rooms and dentist offices, and the table has pedals so it can be adjusted. There is a counter along one wall with small electrical devices and large metal probes, latex gloves and surgical masks and a jar full of Q-tips that are a foot long. [I actually snagged one at my list visit !] There is flexible sigmoidescope machine with a computer on a rolling cart at the end. Its very similar to the device used for colonoscopies except its meant to be used only in the rectum and j-pouch and they normally do not use sedation as the procedure is very short. So there I sat all alone in the room waiting for the doctor in my gown and socks just staring at this machine. Its got a fiber optic cable with a light and camera at the end and a knob and handle at the other. And all along the length are tic marks with numbers, 10, 20, 30 cm. I got up to get a closer look. There is a hose running along from the sink into the machine and as I'm looking at it I see the words "air" and "water" along the handle and there is a VCR below the machine. So not only are they going to stick a camera up your rear, they're going to fill you full of air and water and tape it!!

I think terrified is the word that best describes my frame of mind as my surgeon came in and introduced himself. My first view of Dr Feza Remzi is intimidating. He is average in height and build but has a fairly strong Eastern European accent (he is from Turkey). He shook my hand and there is something very familiar about it because surgeon's hands are very soft but strong and they will never squeeze your fingers. It doesn't take me long though to realize he is kind and concerned. We discussed my history and my present problems which brought me to the Cleveland Clinic. He asked me "are you suffering?" I didn't even know how to respond. Suffering? No, I don't think so, people in Africa suffer. People with chronic pain suffer. I'm not suffering.... then he said "I think you are suffering." At that he told he would like to do an exam under anesthesia to access the fistula and j-pouch. When we got done discussing the logistics of the outpatient exam he asked if he could "take a look." I think I turned white as a sheet mumbled "ok" and slowly got up and moved towards the exam table, the nurse in the room stood up to help me on to the table. Dr Remzi looked into my eyes and said "NO. No, it's ok. I will look during the exam. We don't need to do this now."

See what I mean about compassion? He saw that I was terrified and instead of ignoring my feelings or telling me to suck it up he just stopped, even though it might have been inconvenient for him, he cared more about my feelings than his time. I got dressed and left, and I've never been scared to visit Dr Remzi or the colorectal department again, and believe it or not I even look forward to seeing him!

More to come!