Anyway, as I write this, I am consuming a shitload of food. That's because tomorrow will be a day of fasting. And tomorrow evening? Shit! I mean poop!
Yes, that's right, it's time for my 3-year colonoscopy. With that word, I probably just lost half my audience here. I mean, who wants to read this shit? But if you're still here, bear with me. Consider this my PSA. (That's "Public Service Announcement," not "Poopy Shit Advisory.")
Colorectal cancer is the third most common cancer in the United States. It is also the third leading cause of cancer-related deaths in the United States. It is expected that there will be 50,630 deaths from colorectal cancer in 2018. Despite those numbers, the good news is that the death rate from colon cancer has actually been dropping. One obvious reason is that over the decades, better and more successful treatments have been introduced. The other big reason is that more people are getting screened. Whereas the suggested age of screening was originally 50, it has recently been dropped to 45. If I were the Queen of the World, I would lower it to 30.
My husband was diagnosed with Stage IV colorectal cancer at age 41. Pete was an athlete, in great health . . . except for the stupid cancer. Did he have symptoms before diagnosis? Yes. So why didn't he get screened? Well, for one, he was a guy. (Sorry, but statistics will bear out that women pay closer attention to their health than do men.) And for another, in 1998, we didn't know anybody who'd had a colonoscopy. So there was the fear factor. Fear of the unknown, fear of invasive testing, fear of doctors and hospitals, fear of discomfort. By the time we found someone who'd had the procedure and said it was nothing to be afraid of, it was too late. After four years of radiation, chemotherapy, multiple surgeries, clinical trials and routine testing, Pete lost the fight at age 45, leaving me and three young kids behind. When he knew his death was imminent, he said he had no one to blame but himself. He'd been a fool to avoid earlier screening, and he paid with his life. (His words, not mine.)
Shit. That's a downer, isn't it? But maybe it scared the shit out of those of you who have been putting that colonoscopy off? You know who you are! Put on your big boy (or girl) pants (which you'll be dropping multiple times the night before the test) and schedule that appointment. What do you have to lose . . . except a lot of shit? What do you have to gain? Maybe the rest of your life.
So yeah, anyone who has been screened will tell you the same thing: the only bad part is the prep. And you do that in the privacy of your own home. Your reward the next day will be a lovely little propofol nap! At worst, cancer will be discovered . . . and treated early. Not so bad would be polyps, which can be removed during the procedure. Best would be a clean bill of health . . . and a celebratory meal! Pig out!
Speaking of which, I have some pigging out to do this evening. I have lots of distractions planned for tomorrow's fast and a fat book of Sudoku puzzles strategically placed in the bathroom. I am looking forward to my Michael-Jackson-style sleep (well, not the permanent sleep that he incurred) during the procedure, some good news, and then a satisfying lunch. And then I'm good for three years. Well, unless the world gets blown apart before then. But that's another shitty conversation for another day. For now, I'm pooped!
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