Colonics: Getting Regular in Nashville

Colonics in Nashville. Where to go, what to do, and what to expect.
Colonics in Nashville. Where to go, what to do, and what to expect.

Turns out a colonic sounds just like a vacuum picking up dirt from a carpet...and other reality revelations

From birth to around ages 3 or 4 all conversation centers around what's in your pants. "Go potty, go potty, go potty."

But, when toilet training is achieved and the diapers are packed away, no one wants to discuss what's going on in the bathroom. From here on out we're on our own.

Naturally, questions arise when it's just you and the toilet.

Is what's there normal? Is it healthy? Who knows. Our only recourse for answers are WebMD, Google, and the odd supplement found cowering on the bottom shelf at the natural food market. Slinking around the Vitamins store reading the back of herbal laxatives jars is no way to live. So, I've decided to come out of the bathroom and just say it: I'm not what you'd call regular. In the bathroom. Going number 2. Not regular at all.

It's been like this as long as I can remember. And from what I've managed to pick up from muttered conversations and innuendo, constipation runs in our family. The deep dark (smelly) family secret I guess you could say.

Well no more! I took a stand against chronic constipation and I took it in Nashville. Which is weird.

Most people don't decide to get a colonic in Nashville. Alcohol poisoning? Yes. Line dancing lessons? Totally. Colon hydrotherapy? Not so much.

Ironically, I lived in both Florida and California previously. If you don't know--and why would you--those states boast the most number of colonic therapists. Which means, interestingly, that Californians are statistically NOT full of crap. Who knew.

But, as with many, many things in my life, I chose the road less traveled: to explore the wide world of colonics in the most unlikely city.

It started innocently enough. With the Herb Doc's herbal laxatives taken nightly. These darling supplements will help you move a bowel (or two) in the morning, but I wasn't satisfied with the status quo. I didn't want to just expel the most recent waste, I knew there was more to be gotten rid of. True, my dream was that the uneliminated poo might be responsible for 25% of my (overly generous) body weight, and if I could get rid of it, I just might fit into my skinny jeans again; but deep down I knew it would probably be better for my health not to drag around the cesspool my colon had probably turned into.

Kimberly Snyder's Beauty Detox Diet book extols the virtues of colonics ad nauseum. Kimberly Snyder is lovely. A very pretty girl. I would like to BE a very pretty girl. Could a colonic be the path to this goal?

Properly motivated, I turned to Yelp to find a colon hydrotherapist in Nashville. Fun fact: in Nashville Yelp lists 6 places to get a colonic. In Los Angeles, Yelp lists 101.

I settled on Center for Symmetry because they are close to our loft downtown and they looked reasonably knowledgeable about the process of sucking poo out of one's caboose. Plus they offered a Groupon for the service. So...

When I arrived for my first appointment--nervous as a virgin on prom night--I filled out a lengthy intake form.

Was I constipated? We've covered that.

Did I eat well? Yes, if by "well" you mean a lot.

Am I dying from any of X,Y,Z diseases? Um...I hope not?

Finally it was time for me to go to "the room" with Melissa. My perky, 20-something colon hydrotherapist. Is it racist to say that as nice as Melissa was I would have preferred an old, Native American medicine woman to be the one in charge of sticking a tube in my rump and sucking poo out of it? Well, I would have.

The first thing I was asked to do is undress from the waist down and lay on my left side. Behind me, Melissa lubed up the speculum. (And tell me there's no girl on earth who doesn't shudder just reading that word.)

And then...insertion. Or at least an attempt. Because unlike most porn stars I'm not so comfortable with things going in through the out door. Not. at. all. I was making an attempt to relax, but my rump wasn't having it. Melissa and I shared an awkward moment when she asked me to "guide it" so I could insert it in the right "direction." She lost me at guide it.

Finally, with only the threat of being unable to make good on the colonic Groupon I had purchased, my rear window finally opened and we were on our way.

Let me answer your unspoken question here: no, it did not hurt. It actually didn't. Surprising. (Don't tell your husband)

Once the tube was inserted it's just a matter of relaxing, turning on to your back (while the therapist holds the tube in place) and "trusting the process." Which is colon hydrotherapist speak for just let it go, the tube isn't coming out.

So I did. Or tried to. You know that sound the vacuum makes when it picks up dirt from the carpet? That's what a colonic sounds like.

There were a few other strange moments, like when Melissa would attempt to talk to me and in order to answer her my insides seized up or when I panicked because I realized i hadn't shaved my legs and her head was right at eye level with my hairy calves.

Mostly I just tried to lay back and have an out of body experience...or rather an IN body experience. Willing my insides to get rid of all the toxic waste it's undoubtedly built up over years of not going.

Yes, it's pretty weird having a person there holding a tube inserted into your rear end, watching waste (not as much as you'd think or hope) flow out of your body and into a machine mounted on a wall through a lighted tube (I didn't watch); but like most weird things in life, you get used to it pretty quickly. A lot quicker than you'd like to think probably.

But, 35-40 minutes later it was over. My first time had gone reasonably well.

Unfortunately, it takes a lot longer than 1 time to do any serious damage to the surplus built up in most people's bodies. More like 10 or 15 times. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me, but Melissa says I'll start feeling that fabled euphoric feeling somewhere around colonic number 6, and I should just be patient and keep trusting the process versus spending my money to get the same feeling from drugs instead.

While I don't think she's done the really good drugs or she wouldn't say that, I do trust that perky little poo sucker and as she assured me while I lay half-naked on the table in front of her: We're on this journey together.




 Last updated on March 28, 2013

Useful {1}Funny {3}Awesome {1}Beautiful Interesting {1}

No comments yet.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages account.

    8192 characters left.
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your Hubs or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    Please wait working