My friend went for a colonic
Posted On: 05/10/2014
By: Rachel Hopkins
Don’t even pretend you aren’t a little bit interested.
It is this sick kind of curiosity that persuaded my friend that this invasive torture was actually a brilliant idea.
For those of you not familiar with colonics, I am about to make you really familiar.
Colonic irrigation, or colonic hydrotherapy as it is now more palatably known -because the former really does sound like ‘arse farming’ – is an alternative form of medical therapy that has trickled down from the spa weekend elite and awards season goers, to the lowly Groupon inboxes of the masses.
Colonic Hydrotherapy claims to cleanse the colon of toxic waste, eleveate the symptoms of bloating, IBS and detoxify the body. I have also watched enough ‘E News’ to have it on pretty good authority that you can maybe lose a few pounds.
Given these alleged benefits, my friend was intrigued, and when an offer came up courtesy of Wowcher – she thought she would give it a go.
This is her story….
I decided upon my colonic with not only my bowel activity in mind, which can be ‘eccentric’ at best, but also an impending girls night out, for which I wanted to be super thin. I strategically booked my appointment so the alleged benefits of weight loss would be apparant, should they materialise. My appointment was with Complementary Healthcare Clinic and I imagined white walls, soft lighting and a ‘clinical’ vibe. Not so much. I walked in to a tiny high street, bohemian boudoir which smelled of joss sticks and 1970’s strength hash. There were beaded curtains and curled up editions of ‘Mind, Body and Soul’. I thought I should maybe do a runner but my clogged up intestines kept me firmly seated in my wicker chair as I waited for my ‘colon hygienist’ (imagine).
Heather came through and she didn’t fill me with confidence. She must have weighed about 16 stone and her tunic wasn’t doing her any favours. If she was a colonic advocate, she wasn’t representing the ‘malnourished’ vibe was going for. We began our session with a chat about my digestive system, which I LOVE. We established that I have a gluten intolerance (no shock) but I am also probably dehydrated, both in the colon and in life (lush). Then it was time to get started. I was told to strip my bottom half, face the lilac wall and preserve my modesty with the towel. Ok then Heather, my modesty hasn’t a hope in hells chance with my arse pointed towards your face, regardless of this tiny hand towel. But cheers. Enter Heather armed with a tube of KY jelly and a fresh nozzle in a sealed packet. This was it. I was advised the water would be warm, and I would experience a sensation of strongly needing the loo, but to relax. SURE. I was so relaxed when a foreign object was inserted where no objects have ever ventured. So relaxed when she turned on the machine and it sounded like, funnily enough, an irrigation system. I was so relaxed when for exactly 35 minutes, I had the strong feeling I was about to defecate all over Heather and her ill advised tunic. It was the strangest sensation I have ever felt. It was like having a massive drink of water. If your mouth was on your arse. Heather then kindly vacated the room, not before turning up the music, leaving me alone with the toilet. My entire body exploded for a good 10 minutes. 10 loud, shameful and watery minutes. After getting dressed, I left the treatment room and Heather asked something I haven’t been asked since I was 5: ‘Are you finished?’. Yeah cheers, Hev.
So my friend was left feeling humiliated, abused, ashamed, guilty and empty with ‘morning tummy’ as her all day tummy. BUT I LOST 3 POUNDS SO I WOULD TOTALLY DO IT AGAIN….
My friend, I mean.
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