9 Conversation Starters for Your Next Colonoscopy

Alright, so you’re getting a colonoscopy.

You’ve consumed roughly seventeen gallons of what can only be described as medical-grade Drano. You’re wearing a gown that’s essentially a dinner napkin with commitment issues. In approximately eight minutes, a stranger with multiple degrees is going to send a webcam on a pool noodle into your personal Mariana Trench.

The silence is deafening.

Everyone’s pretending this is normal. It’s not normal. Nothing about this is normal. So why not lean into the absurdity?

1. “So, Come Here Often?”

Drop this bomb right as they’re adjusting the equipment. Timing is everything – wait for that perfect moment when the nurse is checking your vitals and the doctor’s washing their hands for the nineteenth time.

The beauty of this opener? They’re contractually obligated to respond. They can’t just walk out. Well, they could, but they won’t. Professional standards and whatnot. Watch the anesthesiologist suddenly become very interested in their clipboard. The nurse might actually short-circuit. Your gastroenterologist – bless their heart – will do that thing where they laugh but it sounds like crying.

Bonus points if you follow up with “What’s your sign?” while they’re literally holding the scope.

2. “Rate My Prep Work”

You’ve earned this.

Ask for a certificate of achievement. Tell them your mom wants to frame it.

3. “Found Anything Interesting Lately?”

Not necessarily in colons. Keep them guessing.

Your gastroenterologist has seen things. Things that would make David Lynch say “that’s a bit much.” The way their eye twitches when you ask this question? That’s the PTSD from the patient who somehow – and nobody knows how – had a situation involving Christmas ornaments. In July.

They can’t tell you specifics (HIPAA, professional ethics, the Geneva Convention probably) but that pause before they answer? That thousand-yard stare? That’s someone remembering the Tic-Tac Incident of 2019.

(Nobody talks about the Tic-Tac Incident of 2019.)

4. “This Your Dream Job?”

Think about it. Really think about it. Little Timmy, age seven, sitting in career day: “When I grow up, I want to navigate the forbidden tunnels of strangers’ digestive systems while they make uncomfortable small talk about the weather!”

No child has ever said this.

Yet here’s your gastroenterologist. Eight years of higher education. Student loans that could buy a small yacht. And they’re spending Tuesday morning exploring your colon like some kind of medical spelunker while you’re half-conscious and asking if they’ve seen the new season of whatever Netflix show you’re pretending to watch.

You know what? Respect. This person chose chaos. Daily, professional chaos. They wake up every morning knowing they’re going to see humanity’s least photogenic angles and thought, “Yes. This is it. This is my calling.”

Or maybe they just really liked science and this is where they ended up and now it’s too late to become a dermatologist because those guys have it MADE. Nobody makes weird jokes during a mole check.

5. “Can We Get Some Music Going? I Made a Playlist”

Pull out your phone. Yes, you somehow still have your phone despite being in a medical gown that barely covers your dignity. Don’t question it.

• “Careless Whisper” (for the saxophone alone)
• “I Want It That Way” (Backstreet’s back, alright?)
• “Deeper Underground” (too obvious but commit to it)
• “Baby Got Back” (they’ve heard it before, they’ll hear it again)
• “The Final Countdown” (create some drama)
• “Hello Darkness My Old Friend” (existential and literal)

The medical team is now having a silent conversation with their eyes. It’s saying “not again” and “why did I pick this hospital” and “is it too late to call in sick retroactively?”

6. “What’s the Weirdest Thing That’s Happened This Week?”

Your doctor will claim nothing weird has happened. They’re lying. You know they’re lying. They know you know they’re lying.

Someone this week asked if they offer a punch card system. Someone else wanted to know if this counts as a LinkedIn skill. There was definitely at least one person who tried to negotiate a Groupon.

The weird stories are there, lurking behind that professional veneer. You can smell them.

7. “You Naming These Polyps or Should I?”

Look, you grew them. They’re basically your children. Horrible, potentially cancerous children, but still.

Big Tony (the one causing problems) The Twins (they’re clearly codependent) Jennifer (seems nice but you can’t trust her) Kevin (nobody likes Kevin)

Suggest they at least get a moment of silence before removal. You’re not asking for a full Viking funeral, just some basic respect for the fallen.

Your anesthesiologist is definitely upping your dose now.

8. “Can I Get This on Blu-Ray?”

Tell them you’re starting a collection. Say it’s for your vision board. Your therapist recommended it. You’re making a coffee table book called “Interior Designs.” You need it for your Insta story. The content possibilities are endless and you’re an entrepreneur.

The medical staff has now achieved a level of uncomfortable that scientists didn’t think was possible. Someone just dropped something metal and it’s still clanging. The echo is eternal.

9. “See You Next Year? Same Time?”

Say it like you’re confirming brunch plans. Pull up your Google Calendar. Ask if they do Save the Dates. What’s their cancellation policy? Is there a rewards program? Buy nine, get the tenth free?

“Should we exchange numbers? Start a group chat? ‘Colonoscopy Crew 2024’ has a nice ring to it.”

You’re being wheeled out now but you’re still going. Something about matching t-shirts. A reunion tour. Maybe a podcast.

The Grand Finale Nobody Asked For

Here’s what you’ve accomplished: you’ve turned the single most dignity-destroying medical procedure into a personal comedy special. Your gastroenterologist? They’re going home tonight, pouring a very large wine, and telling their partner about you. Not by name – HIPAA again – but as “that patient.”

You’re going to become hospital folklore.

“Remember that person who asked if we do wedding registries?” “What about the one who brought their own theme music?” “Did someone really ask for a loyalty punch card?”

That’s your legacy now.

You might think this is embarrassing. You might think you’ve gone too far. But consider this: everyone in that room has to do this same procedure hundreds of times a year. Day after day, colon after colon, an endless parade of human plumbing.

And today? Today you gave them something different. Today you were the patient who made a Disney World joke while they were adjusting the scope. Today you asked if polyps have feelings. Today you suggested they add this to their Tinder bio.

You’re not the hero they wanted. But you’re definitely the weirdo they’ll remember.

Frame that discharge paperwork. You’ve transcended modern medicine through pure, unfiltered chaos.

And honestly? They probably needed that.