Curiosity with a side of cringe

Starting a post after the second glass of the colonscopy-prep solution just for fun.

How far will I get?

Will I even end up posting this?

What will my life be like in 30 min?

What will my life be like after the scope?

Does the GI doc see enough arseholes that mine will be unremarkable?

If not, do I have time to fix that?

But seriously…

Why is this feeling of preparing for your first colonoscopy so eerily similar to that feeling of watching election returns during the last 3 elections?

Curiosity with a side of cringe.

My first ai generated image of a “woman in her 40’s in her bathroom with a curious look on her face”. How’d the robots know I have a pastel tiled bathroom?

In my mind, this feeling of cringy curiosity I’m having as I prep for emptying my guts and then letting someone look at them while using the back door entrance is similar to:

• The urge to slow down to check out the car crash on the freeway even though you KNOW it causes traffic backups (and you were complaining about those people 10 minutes ago).

• Those videos of people popping puss-filled things or removing worms from the intestines of some suffering soul.

• The delight in sharing a really bad smell or taste with a really good friend. “Oh, this is awful! You gotta try it!”

• Watching insert your beloved team here play insert the nut your beloved team can’t seem to crack. (I’m looking at you, post-season Brewers.)

• Looking forward to each and every episode of This is Us or Shrinking even though it absolutely puts you through the emotional ringer.

There are uncomfortable feelings that I know I am drawn to experience on occasion - disgust, terror, tragedy, dread, anticipation, sorrow.

What would it be like to use this “curious with a side of cringe” experience that I know for those feelings or experiences I go to lengths to avoid: fear, boredom, hopelessness, loneliness, invisibility, despair, uncertainty. Or when the emotions are activated because they are personally relevant: my spouse is driving in a snow storm, my kid is struggling, my health is in question. What if I just allow that hard feeling to be there without needing to do anything about it - just lean into it, to experience it with curiousity: what are the sensations in my body, where does this live in me, when did I first feel this way, what information does this feeling have for me?

[Side note: Six doses in now and hearing some gurgles. Cringy curiosity growing… and also, I better wrap this up. Can I do it in time?]

What I do know: I can tolerate difficult feelings. And sometimes I even look forward to it. I’m not sure what it’s about exactly, but I do think this willingness to tolerate difficult feelings can help me to do hard things, creative things, important things.

And so can you.

In fact the neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett wrote this brilliant article about how the skill of emotional granularity allows us to live with more well-being. So, go ahead and find your own way to play a little with those uncomfortable feelings in safe places when the opportunity becomes apparent.

And now that I’m 8 doses deep, my own opportunity to practice is now very apparent. So… here I go!

Next day update: It dawned on me while I was sitting in one spot for a good length of time that I could do some research. And of course, the experience is known as morbid curiosity when it relates to gross or tragic things (duh!) and it does help us to be more empathetic and resilient! At least that’s what I read half doped up as I recover from my incredibly unremarkable colonoscopy. Yay for clean and polyp-free colons!

Are you avoiding the discomfort of an important preventative exam? Well, here’s a chance to practice this skill. Plus, it’s a really important and sometimes overlooked part of self-care. Schedule it. You got this. Or maybe just answer Li’l Jon’s call to get low if you aren’t high-risk for colon cancer - it’s sure to move you (so to speak).