Pretty Gross But I Lived Through It

Yesterday I finally went in for a colonoscopy. Parts of it were pretty gross but I lived through it. Why I waited so long to have it done is a mystery and a true confession rolled into one.

At my last annual checkup, Dr. Lischke said, "So, have you had a colonoscopy?" Unfortunately he has asked that same question, with exactly the same wording - So, have you had a colonoscopy? - yearly for way too long, and my lame excuses have varied little. I told him that getting a colonoscopy was on my list but I hadn't gotten it done yet because I lost the last two referral cards he'd given me. Then to support my tenuous position, I rattled off multiple semi-valid reasons for avoiding the test: travel, busy life, family obligations. I could have added jury duty, but I didn't actually show up when I was called last year, so that didn't qualify. I cringed at how, once again, I must have sounded unbelievably flakey. He looked at my chart and replied, "Well, let's see, you're only thirteen years late."

In that moment I told myself that I wouldn't go back for my annual exam until I had gotten the colonoscopy. I would set a personal deadline and just do it. Still I stalled around and around to the point that whenever I noticed colonoscopy on my list I imagined the gastroenterologist saying, "If you had come in ten years ago, no wait, thirteen years ago, we could have saved your life."

Two months ago, which was about six months after I missed this year's annual checkup with Dr. Lischke because I still hadn't gone for the colonoscopy, my brother and his family came down from Idaho for a beach vacation. Our extended family gathered for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Leucadia and I sat next to my cousin, Eric. I hadn't seen Eric for awhile, and I asked how things were going. He said, "Did you hear that I have colon cancer and I just finished my third round of chemotherapy?" Then he said the words I'd been running from for thirteen years, "Have you had a colonoscopy? You really need to do it. It's really important."

So after thirteen years I finally called Dr. Lenz's office, made an appointment, went to the preliminary office visit, and scheduled the procedure for one month later. They had an opening that same Wednesday but I couldn't quite get myself to go for it. Still, at long last I had an appointment on my calendar.

During the month leading up to the colonoscopy I asked thirteen friends if they'd had the procedure. I was hoping for reassurance that I wasn't the only one avoiding it, but it turned out I was the only one. Everyone else had seen it as a routine test and had gotten it done when they turned fifty. A couple of them had already had it done twice. Each one said the prep the night before was awful, but the procedure itself, under sedation, was nothing at all. They were right, of course. The new and improved cleansing drink the night before was just five ounces and tasted like Tang - that orange powdery drink mix. It was followed by five glasses of clear liquid over the next five hours - and diarrhea of course, which was . . . cleansing. The actual colonoscopy was effortless, the people who took care of me were lovely, and thankfully all was well and healthy up there in my intestines where no one had ever looked.

But in the recovery area where the beds are separated by a thin curtain, I heard the guy next to me get his results. The nurse told him he had so many polyps in his intestines that the doctor was unable to remove any of them. There were polyps upon polyps, and several were flat, on the wall of the intestines. She showed him the photos and said they would refer him to a surgeon. "You will need surgery," she said. He was silent. I'm guessing polyps don't grow overnight and I wondered how long he had postponed getting the test.

If I had gone in for the colonoscopy thirteen years ago I wouldn't have had to: have it on my list, quietly haunting me all that time; face Dr. Lischke with dread every year as he repeated the same question; come up with excuses for avoiding the test; and worry that I had colon cancer.

I'm guessing that most of you who are over fifty have already had a colonoscopy and you're reading this as simply my personal true confession. Hopefully none of you will ever be like the guy on the other side of the curtain who got the bad news. Or live in the kind of avoidance that adds a layer of stress to your life, and one more item to your to-do list.

But let me know if you're stuck in the shadowy place where I lived for thirteen years. I get it and maybe I can encourage you to step out of the guilt and worry and step into the endoscopy office. I have to say the prep was pretty gross but overall it really wasn't that bad. Today I feel relieved that I finally did it and relieved that I don't have cancer. And really proud of myself for getting it done. Dr. Lischke will be shocked - but he'll probably try to be professional about it and not fall off his chair.

Kind of makes me wonder what other things in my life I've been putting off for thirteen years?