In search of a flatter tummy, South Wales Evening Post reporter Susan Bailey tried the ultimate body valet – colonic irrigation.

Never let it be said I won’t go that extra mile for my job. I could have been at my desk scanning the latest telephone directory-sized health committee agenda.

Instead, here I was, having the time of my life being flushed through my nether regions with gallons of warm water. Oh joy.

I’ll admit I happily volunteered to undergo colonic irrigation in the interests of journalistic research (and the vain quest for a flatter tummy).

Every account I read talked about how painless and easy it was, and how great and energised you felt afterwards, when the muck and debris built up over years of self-indulgence was washed away.

Also exciting was the prospect of losing a pound or two. Apparently the most clogged up folk can carry as much as seven to nine pounds of solidified waste in their colon.

My research took me to an Internet site which talked of how one recipient passed a marble he had swallowed as a five-year-old child.

Apparently it had lodged among the bits of undigested food in his colon for more than 40 years until the rush of pressurised fluid broke it free.

Colonic irrigation, or colon cleansing, is not a painful process. But no way is it comfortable.

Ladies – imagine a 45-minute smear test. Enough said.

For the men reading this, the process causes cramps and twinges not unlike the aftermath of a dodgy curry.

Any idea I had that it would be a relaxing session akin to an aromatherapy massage vanished the minute something tubular and plastic was inserted.

Having your colon washed out requires your participation, it is not something done to you while you lie back and day dream.

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