My uncle called to tell me that he had just received a diagnosis of
cancer of the colon - not so coincidentally, the same diagnosis that led
to the death of his older brother - and my dad - when I was 16. I was
only 40 when my uncle, the same age my father was when he died of -
dramatic sting here - COLON CANCER!
I'm not trying to be theatrical here. The drama sting is exactly how I
normally hear the word "cancer" - even when it's whispered, which it
usually is. It's my ring-tone and every time anyone mentions cancer, I
also seem to get a call on my cell. It works out perfect because that's
how harrowing the word is to me. A major part of the revulsion being the
label itself - colon cancer. Now Leukemia, that's a diagnosis you could
speak with resonance. But no matter how you spin it, colon cancer
couldn't be categorized worse. I take that back. It's also identified as
colo-rectal cancer. That isn't just potentially terminal. It's downright
humiliating. It's understandable. It's bad enough to have any type of
cancer, but then sticking your colon or rectum on top of it... Well, that
just stinks.
Put that together with a diagnostic procedure where someone will be
sticking a fifteen hundred foot tube into and through your very private
privates... How uncomfortable. How embarrassing. How please don't go
there. I mean, really. Please. Not there.
Perhaps if we just renamed the procedure. Something like health-tubing or
interior-surfing we might look at it with less apprehension. Maybe even
look forward to it. Maybe not. Still, it's odd, isn't it? We get our
panties in a knot because we're getting a tube with a lovely little video
camera fixed to the front of it through a hole THAT'S ALREADY THERE. Save
the clench, it's an opening that is hither to...open. That's not bad
thing, folks. That's a damn convenient thing.
And to make it even more practical, it takes you right into yon
destination: the colon. No muss, no fuss and no need for them cut a hole
into your very bleedable skin and tissue, a hole big enough for the hose
and camera to fit.
Perhaps if I put it this way. If you lived in Jersey and had great seats
for a Broadway play that might very well save your life - say, Spamalot -
and you had a limo waiting right at the Weehawken, N.J. entrance of the
Lincoln Tunnel, would you rather that driver take you through the tunnel
that was already there or would you have the driver drill another tunnel
under the Hudson River five miles further away from the theater and end
up missing the first act...or die trying?
You would think that no matter where a professional - and let me make
this clear...you should have your, um, health-tubing,.done by a
professional...a medical professional - must look into to potentially
save your life, you would gladly welcome the somewhat awkward intrusion.
But if saving your life isn't enough, you should consider the many other
benefits of a colonoscopy that are far more attractive than just saving
your life.
How many of us wouldn't like to lose ten pounds in one day? Forget
Atkins. Forget South Beach. Forget Jenny Craig. Preparing for a
Colonoscopy leaves them all in the weight-loss dust. It's a little diet
plan that doesn't call for a rigorous exercise regimen, save for the
every-fifteen minute dash to the bathroom. I prep for a Colonoscopy and I
can't get to a scale fast enough.
"Honey, look. I can fit into my old jeans!"
Of course, I gain it all back with the twenty-thousand calorie lunch I
have minutes after the procedure. But for about thirteen-fourteen hours I
can lay on my back and actually feel what it's like to have my stomach
touching my spine. In fact, I recommend prepping for and having a
colonoscopy minutes before every high school reunion.
"Steve, you look as thin as you did in 10th grade."
"Yeah. And as cancerless!"
You will get the day off from work.
"I've got to go in for a little surgical procedure."
"Little? There's no such thing a little surgical procedure, Young. You
take all the time you need."
Maybe even two days.
And while nuclear laxatives and having a stranger journey through where,
in many cases, no man has gone before, doesn't sound the least bit fun,
if you do any standup, you've got an additional fifteen killer minutes
that will absolutely floor the baby boomer crowd.
Yes, the benefits are many and the risks are few, save finding out you
have a potentially deadly disease at a point in time that it can be
treated well before it becomes literally...deadly. Some risk. Yet, there
are still a lot of us who would rather die from cancer than find out we
have it...and find out we have it while it's still treatable. Did I
mention that it you can detect it while it's treatable? Did I mention
that "treatable" means that it can be removed and leave you WITHOUT
cancer? Some humiliation, aye?
So, if you still have a modicum of ability in the weighing of the options
area, you might want to consider that while there has been vast research
into the cancer detection value of sticking your head in the ground or
covering your ears while you go la-la-la, the colonoscopy still seems to
be the best method to catch colon cancer before colon cancer catches you.
So, I'll leave it up to you. Which do you find more embarrassing? Dying
of embarrassment or dying of colon cancer?
Drama sting!
