The Movicol was to be taken the third and second day before the procedure. I was not suffering from constipation but the purpose was to draw moisture into your intestine to aid with defecation. At this point instructions were also to move to a low fibre diet of food that is easy to digest – namely white bread; eggs; chicken; ripe bananas; white rice.

The day before the procedure I ate my bland last meal at lunchtime – an egg mayonnaise, white bread sandwich which would not be my preferred choice but needs must. From now on I was on a clear liquids only regimen. Water was fine. As was Seven-Up; clear apple juice or clear chicken broth. No solids.

At 4pm I prepared the first litre of Moviprep – mixing sachet A and sachet B in a saucepan with two pint glasses of water. The entire mixture was to be consumed over the course of an hour. It tasted rancid – rich and rotten eggy. I also drank the mandatory half litre of water to accompany the mix. About an hour after I had consumed the potion the potion nothing had happened. Slightly concerned I was in the midst of googling ‘how long does Moviprep take to work’ when the urge took me. As advertised it was sudden and urgent. The advice had been clear ‘stay close to a toilet’. I dashed to the lavatory and did my business. The following two hours were deeply unpleasant. The laxative works by drawing water into your bowel and then rapidly expelling it. You were encourage to drink water throughout to speed up the process. The end result was meant to see you shitting clear water. At this point you’d be inwardly glistening and ready for your inner close-up. After the first litre my effluent was still quite cloudy looking in the bowl.

By 7pm my stomach had settled. I was now faced with a dilemma. I seemed to be through the worst of dose one. But the second dose of Moviprep was to start at 8pm. And I had used up an extraordinary amount of bog roll in the previous two hours. Should I take the chance that the solitary remaining roll was sufficient or should I bravely face the elements and head to Aldi for replenishment.

I chose the latter. Having acquired supplies I rushed home, snarling ‘No’ at the beggar woman who often regales me with elaborate tales of how she was thrown out of home and needed two euros for a hostel.

The second litre was consumed as instructed. It was actually easier than the first litre as my bowel was already empty. I kept drinking water which was rapidly expelled. When I went to bed at midnight my stool was clear and liquid. I felt proud of myself as if this was some personal achievement rather than the consequence of hard core laxatives.

At four am I arose. As I am a Type 1 diabetic my appointment was for 6.20am. Diabetics are seen first to minimise fasting in case of blood sugar complications. The night before I had taken only half a dose of my long acting overnight insulin. The instructions were not to consume any liquids for a minimum of two hours before the procedure. At 4am I drank a pint of water and went back to bed until 5.30am.

My sister collected me at 6am and drove me to the shiny new hospital building. She would be collecting me later to sign me out of the hospital. As you are sedated for the colonoscopy the hospital will only discharge you to someone who will look after you upon release.

At 6.20 I was taken from reception to the Endoscopy unit on the first floor where I paid the fifty euros excess that my health insurance would not cover. Colonoscopies are free on the public system but involve a several year wait. Privately they cost about 1500 euros. Fifty euros seemed reasonable.

I had the intake with a nurse who asked me all the usual questions about allergies, health conditions etc and she installed a needle in my hand through which the anaesthetic would be administered. I was then taken to a waiting area where there were several surgical armchairs in individual cubicles. I was the first appointment but the other seats soon filled up. I noticed that I was the youngest patient by a considerable margin.

I was then escorted to a room with a medic who did an ultrasound of my stomach area.

Afterwards back to the waiting chair.

Mr Khan was my consultant. He is not a doctor and corrected a nurse who called him that. While waiting I googled why certain doctors are called Mister. It turns out that surgeons were not originally doctors. Obviously these days they are also medical doctors but maintain the title Mister as it is a prestige title in the medical world. He asked me some questions and walked off.

Thirty minutes later a nurse walked me to the surgery. I was wearing stylish Penneys tracksuit bottoms. The advise had been to wear pyjamas. Not owing any pyjamas and refusing to part with my money for a garment I would never wear again I decided on a tracksuit. I had a spare pair of trousers in my bag in case it was needed.

As instructed I hopped on the bed and turned on my side. A blanket was placed over me. I was told to drop my pants to below my knees to bring my knees to my chest and to expose my derriere to the audience of Mr Khan and the nurses.

The sedatives were administered. I was told that I was being consciously sedated – I would remain awake but would not be fully aware of what was happening and would feel nothing. And so it came to pass. The whole process took about twenty minutes.

Taken by wheelchair to the recovery area I was told that as Mr Khan had noticed some liquid in my bowel I was also going to have a CT scan. It was nothing to be concerned about the nurse told me. I was given a litre of yellow liquid which apparently was water with added dye to illuminate my inners.

The CT scan was took about fifteen minutes and was quite intimidating . Being sent into that machine – my midriff at least – felt like science fiction.

Afterwards I went back to the recovery area where I was presented with a pot of tea and three slices of toast and low-fat, salt free butter. One of the nicest meals I had ever tasted. It was about lunchtime by this stage. I hadn’t eaten in twenty four hours and was hungry.

Some time later I was sent to the discharge room. After a ninety minute wait Mr Khan called me to a consultation room where he told me that there was no cause for concern and that all looked well and to come back again in three years.

I called my sister who took me home.

An interesting day with a positive outcome.

Whew!