That Guy explains how he was able to start the new year with a clear mind - and a clear colon.
As this is my first column written in 2010 I think it's fitting and proper that it should be positive and reflect the optimism one feels so early in the New Year. I have never been one for "resolutions" as such but certainly wanted to approach this year with a kind of out-with-the-old-and-in-with-the-new attitude. What better way, then, to begin the year than with a detailed, step-by-step account of my recent colonic irrigation session.
The opportunity to experience it for myself arose at a garden party wedding, when a friend expressed an interest in giving it a go.
I let my fingers do the walking - narrowly avoiding an appointment with the "hose doctor" who specialises in large hydraulic hose re-fits - and booked an appointment for both of us.
As we were a little nervous, we felt it would be easier to go along together, a little like getting caned at school I suppose. We hoped this voluntary violation of our backsides wouldn't be quite as painful, or administered by my old geography teacher, Mr Hewson.
We were sat down for a brief consultation with a female colonic irrigation specialist. She explained in layman's terms how the colon worked, and why it's important to keep it flushed. At this stage all we were really interested in was the mechanics of how it would be done, specifically the business, or pointy end, of the system.
She introduced us to a phallic-looking valve that was about as fat as a pepper grinder, but soon reassured us that this is seldom used unless requested nowadays. The water is now administered via a nozzle no larger than a pencil.
This would have been reassuring had we not been situated across the road from a stationery supplies store which boasted a giant dog roll-sized pencil in its window display.
We were shown to separate rooms that looked like hospital birthing suites.
The idea was to put on a hospital-type gown and recline on the plastic bed surrounded by taps, pipes and gauges.
A fresh nozzle is attached to the machine, Vaseline is smeared over the end, and it is your job to insert it.
It might be worth mentioning that the colonic irrigation specialist leaves the room at this point, but is happy to come in to give you some assistance if you don't get it right.
Needless to say I made damn sure I got it right the first time.
Once you are satisfied, you ring a buzzer and she re-enters the room to start the pumps, which guarantee 40 litres of warm water gently pumps up your backside, and around the colon.
The next hour or so is spent lying back in the colonic suite while water enters your body and flushes back out.
It's not nearly as disgusting as it sounds and the outflow is whisked away through see-through pipes. There is no smell, no mess and thankfully no window.
Occasionally there is slight cramping, but no more or less than you would experience during a standard visit to the toilet at a two-star Indian restaurant.
The basic idea of a colonic irrigation session is to flush out all the bad toxins that may have been stored somewhere in your colon for some time. Many people experience a sense of wellbeing; and they may feel less bloated as their bodies are physically purged of all unwanted matter.
I felt that to a degree, but the process also seemed to flush out my brain mentally.
As the session was drawing to an end I felt my head clearing and I was able to remember old number plates, losing Lotto numbers I had picked many years earlier and even TV show and column ideas I had long since forgotten about.
Excuse the pun, but admittedly most of these ideas were fairly crap and that is why I had forgotten them; the point is I was feeling physically and mentally liberated.
It was then that it dawned on me how a colonic irrigation session would be a great idea for high-powered business meetings.
Being prepared to discuss terms of business while having your backside flushed clearly indicates to all present that it is your turf and that you are the one in charge.
I can imagine Rupert Murdoch or Donald Trump firing people from the colonic recliner.
So what did I learn about myself physically?
Not a lot, really, other than the fact that I may have a little gas. The water that entered my body was still, but - by the time it had done a tour of my colon - it returned slightly coloured and carbonated. In a sense I was like a human Soda Stream machine, but by all accounts this is relatively common, and will probably be taken care of at the next session on Tuesday week.
- HERALD ON SUNDAY
