I'd like to, but I can't. I mostly slept through it, and I don't trust the vague memories I do have of various moments in the procedure.
By far the least pleasant aspect was the necessity to guzzle four liters of polyethylene glycol solution the day before. I have heard this described as a "nuclear laxative", yet my main complaint is that it doesn't work fast enough. I started drinking at 6pm, and my system was still evacuating at 5am. The product ceased to have any color hours before, yet it simply would not stop. At one point I think I saw a wad of chewing gum I swallowed in middle school.
7am, arrive at Crawford Long.
7:20am, strip naked. This is not nearly as interesting as it sounds.
7:25am, finish tucking my clothes etc away in the garment bag.
7:30am, find the snaps that hold the hospital gown together.
8am, "Journey to the Center of My Ass" begins. Nurse looks nothing like Raquel Welch. On the other hand, doctor looks nothing like Donald Pleasance.
25 or 6 to 9: I was facing a monitor, and logic tells me (in a general way) what it must have been showing me, but the images I saw meant nothing to me. You remember all those "with-it" sixties movies that used colorful liquid gel filters to portray the use of mind-altering drugs? That's what it looked like. Someone might have been singing "White Rabbit". Hope it wasn't me.
9am, procedure ends.
10am, returned home.
Prognosis: Everything's cool. The procedure was uneventful: no polyps were found. Some diverticula were found, but no more than normal for a man my age, causing no problems. The doctor suggested that higher-fiber diet might help it stay trouble-free.
A day of discomfort is a small price to pay for many years of knowing that's one awful thing that isn't going to get you. [from GL1800 Riders forum]