I’ve done many things in the name of beauty but having colonic irrigation is not (yet) one of them. I have one particular friend (HELLO ZOE FOSTER) who swears by them. Swears, I tell you.
She recently wrote:
“I am an unashamed fan of colonics, to the point where I am one of those morons who feels it’s appropriate dinner (or lunch, or breakfast) talk, no matter the company. It’s bordering on evangelical. But with good reason: I am a firm believer colonics are one of the finest things you can do for your body, your skin and your overall health. But don’t take my word for it. Take my many words for it.
Before I tell you all the benefits, some background.
I am writing this post because colonics are one of my most fascinating conversation topics, if the criteria for a fascinating conversation is one that inspires the most interest, curiosity and follow-up from people I (often inappropriately) bring it up with. Sometimes I think, ‘Shitballs (sorry), I really must stop talking about poo all the time, it’s most unbecoming.’ But I can’t! The people want to know! The people want to know.
The colonic hydrotherapy I do is a closed system, meaning it’s absolutely not DIY, it’s all down via a big fancy machine and there is a therapist present to facilitate everything, and tell you what’s happening, and massage your tummy the whole way through and coach you through the painful parts and cheer you on when things are going swimmingly. (Sorry.)
Every colonic is different. For every person, and every time. If you’re very toxic (partying too hard, been traveling etc) then there’s a good chance your initial colonic(s) will be fairly unpleasant. That’s mostly because of the gas build up. And passing that stuff? Kinda feels like the worst period pain ever. But it will pass. (Literally! Zing!) There is an ENORMOUS difference between my initial colonics a few years back to now. Not only is my body used to it now, but I have changed my diet (no carbonated drinks, ever, for a start… save for the occasional champagne) and, well, I’ve shifted a lot of the longstanding build up, so it’s a much, uh, easier ride now. Can still hurt though when those gas bubbles come up. Makes you rethink wolfing down your food and helps you understand how you bloat. Makes a lot of sense.”
With a few exceptions, most of the people I know (like Zoe) who have actually had colonics love them, swear by them and try to persuade me to have them. I say N-to-the-O. And also: shut up, ain’t gonna happen. Still, in the interests of curiosity, I asked occasional MM contributor Lucy Brook to have a look at the whole concept of colonics and what’s involved. This is what she found out. Just the facts:
What is a colonic?
The slightly more invasive sister to detox diets and maple syrup cleanses, colonic hydrotherapy, sometimes called colonic irrigation, has experienced a resurgence since the early 2000s.
Thought to have originated in ancient Egypt, where medicos believed illness resulted from waste and toxin build up in the intestines, colonics is still hotly debated within the medical fraternity – many western practitioners argue there is no scientific data to support claims that the colon is dirty and needs ‘cleaning’.
The treatment uses warm water – about 25 litres, which is flushed gently into the colon via a disposable rectal tube (no fire hoses folks) – to soften and remove waste from the colon. There’s no smell, as expelled matter travels through a separate tube, but a heads up for the squeamish – most practitioners will inspect the waste with their patients for signs of candida (yeast overgrowth) or parasites. Good times.
Top Comments
Don't do it! I had one 2 years ago and I am still having surgery to repair where the "qualified and experienced' therapist punctured my bowel when inserting the speculum. So far I have had 8 surgeries. It is not safe and it is not necessary. It ruined health.
Search colonic irrigation Melbourne on youtube and you can find the clinic which closes to you.