I'm sure having a colonoscopy is a topic that you are eager to hear about, so I'll share my experience. (Sorry, I'm not providing an image).
I successfully put off having a colonoscopy until I was 64. After I had one I swore, NEVER AGAIN. What could be worse than the prep, the nausea, the regret for starting it all that lasts for an interminable two days?
Nearing ten years later, my doctor's office kept after me to make an appointment with the proctologist for another one, which I ignored. When pressed I said I'm "about to go out of town, will call you when I get back." After several yeas they caught on and made an appointment for a 45 minutes consultation. I showed up and told the receptionist, "Too bad the doctor wants to waste his time and mine, since I am not going to have a colonoscopy." When I came out of the meeting I told the receptionist, "I need to make an appointment for a colonoscopy." She was discreet as she laughed. The doctor convinced me that the risk of death by colon cancer was higher than the risk of death by the quart of magnesium, the gallon of the vile Colyte and the 2 laxative pills, plus the possibility of a rupture during the procedure.
This time I did my research and was prepared. (Of course, every doctor has a different set of instructions).
Before starting I placed next to the toilet:
The vile gallon of Colyte.
My cellphone to use the timer.
A bendable straw.
Half of a fresh lemon.
A pillow on top of the tank to rest my head if exhausted.
A small blanket to put over my legs. (a gallon of chilled liquid can make you very cold).
A heating pad to put over my abused innards, which I found soothing.
A box of alcohol-free baby wipes (MUST be alcohol free, believe me, your asshole will thank you).
My laptop and cellphone. (making sure it's not recording a video).
Some reading material.
I drank each glass of the vile Colyte through the straw with the bent part over my tongue, so the liquid went down bypassing a good portion of my tongue.
At the same time, while I drank, I held the half lemon under my nose and kept telling my brain I was drinking lemonade. What do you know, it bought it! No nausea, no discomfort!
(I've always had serious doubts about my brain's intelligence, but sometimes its gullibility comes handy).
After finishing each glass I set the timer for 15 minutes and read or wrote until it rang for the next glass.
It took 3 1/2 hours to drink the gallon. My guts kept going down the toilet like water, literally. However, I didn't have to rush to the toilet, I was on it, warm and cozy, and engaged, which made the time go faster.
After I had spilled out everything possible I returned all my aids to their proper places and went down to the kitchen to fix dinner for my husband. I worked on house chores until my normal bedtime, and took the 2 laxative pills with plenty of water, as instructed.
Piece of cake.
Alas, this doesn't have a happy ending. During my previous colonoscopy I had requested minimum anesthesia and I was fine after it was over. Unfortunately, for this procedure I forgot to request the same, and the anesthesiologist must have pumped enough anesthesia for an 180 pounder and I weighed 110 lbs. I got very sick after it was over, vomiting for several hours in the hospital's post-operative room. The nurses refused to give me anything to stop throwing up. Finally, disregarding their advice, I went home armed with a barf tray. At home I chewed some ginger candy with crushed ice and the vomiting stopped.
Advice: before you have a colonoscopy remember to request the amount of anesthesia you want.
The cheerful thought is that we are lucky to have only one colon.