Go Deep

Have you ever had a colonic? If not, think of the last time you had diarrhea because it’s a sneak preview of one. A therapist forcing a steady stream of warm water in and out of your intestinal tract for 20 to 45 minutes isn’t how most of us like to use our free time, but the pesticides, mucous and petrified food languish in your intestines, sometimes for years, is a great motivator. The worst offenders are the unreleased toxins that get stored in the fat cells. Sure, we hate the idea of all that rot in our guts. But it’s the promise of losing poundage that drive many onto our backs and spread-eagled while a stranger sticks a hose up our rectums.

When I need it, I put my lower half in the hands of Partners in Wellness www.gutwisdom.com. This place has primo cred and a reputation for good bedside manners, which is key since most of us feel spooked and idiotic our first time for choosing such defilement. (If you don’t live in Chicago, you can pick up the book “Gut Wisdom” written by owner Alyce Sorokie, which is about understanding and improving digestive health.)

My friendly hydrotherapist Noreen gets down to business with all the nonchalance of a manicurist about to clip some nails. Into my rectum she inserts a hygienic speculum, which is attached to a hose connected to a multigallon bottle of water that flows into the colon and out into the “evacuation” tube. Fun times. For those with scatological inclinations, the hose is made of clear plastic so you can actually watch a play by play of what your body is evacuating. Good times. If you can’t get yourself to look, no problem. Hydrotherapists tend to offer enthusiastic second-hand descriptions of what’s coming out, like Noreen did for me. According to her, except for a few “productive” surges, I am apparently one gassy girl.

Once you're unhooked, you will run to the toilet—where you will stay for at least 15 minutes—and likely then to the scale. Once I unburdened my colon of almost two pounds. The second best part of the experience is the warm “Belly Buddy,” pillow, an invention of Sorokie’s, to take the edge off the gurgly intensity of the procedure.