Well, it’s Groundhog Day … Again … The Colonoscopy Story
Bill Murray helped make one of our nation’s most overlooked holidays a b-list celebrity with the classic movie “Groundhog Day.” So as you celebrate the day that groundhogs know more about weather than weathermen, think about what would be the worst and best day to put on “repeat.” I am pretty sure that reliving a colonoscopy would not be on your top 10, but is reliving your loved ones tears at the news of your colon cancer better?
It’s time to be honest. No one LOVES getting a colonoscopy. It’s evident by the new stats out from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The colon cancer screening rate in 2010 was 58.6 percent, which is short of the government’s Healthy People 2020 goal of 70.5 percent. While colon cancer screening rates might not have met expectations, the report said they have “increased markedly.” So, YEAH for colon cancer awareness working to prevent colon cancer, we are making waves!
To continue to make a difference, we need to eliminate the taboo surrounding colonoscopies. So, let’s pretend you are Bill Murray and stuck reliving the same day, but this time you have a choice: colon cancer or colonoscopy.
Well, It’s Day…Again…
You wake up with your stomach growling. You’ve just been through 24 hours of Gatorade, chicken broth and lemon and lime green Jello, which you swear was made just for colonoscopy prep because nobody chooses to eat those flavors. You look at the clock, and you realize it’s only 7 a.m. (You haven’t been able to sleep well due to multiple trips to the bathroom.) Counting on your fingers, you realize that you have four more hours of starvation until your appointment time – kicking yourself for not taking the early morning slot.
It’s finally time to head to your appointment; you pray there are no traffic incidents that leave you sitting on the highway with your unreliable stomach. You make it just in time to your appointment (and the bathroom). You check-in at the front desk, and then you and your friend or family member make fun of the horrible soap on the 1993 18-inch television in the waiting room.
Finally, a nurse calls your name. You leave your friend or family member watching the drama of a woman finding out her husband is her long-lost brother, and you follow the nurse back to the pre-op room. She directs you to an empty hospital bed, gives you a gown, pulls a curtain around you for privacy and then asks you questions while you put on your red-carpet worthy hospital gown.
After lying down in the hospital bed, the nurse pulls the curtain back and brings you a really warm blanket to cover up with. You instantly think, “Wow, give me some rain, my own bed and this warm blanket and I’ve got the perfect napping conditions.”
Quickly startled out of your daydream, the nurse inserts an IV and wheels your bed into the operating room where a CRNA, a nurse and the gastroenterologist wait. The doc quickly gives you the This Is What Is Going to Happen speech. The nurse then asks you to roll over on your left side. As you position yourself, the nurse makes sure full moon remains completely covered. Next comes the injection of the anesthesia into your IV. You fall asleep before the CRNA can finish saying, “Within a few seconds you……”
The next thing you know, you’re awake and a little groggy, like you just had a two hour middle of the day nap. The nurse helps you up and takes you to a private place to get dressed. After 10 minutes, you are fully awake, and the doctor meets with you to hopefully say, “You’re colon is clean. No colon polyps, which means I won’t be seeing you for awhile.”
Now you are at the best part of your day. Your friend or family member takes you to your favorite restaurant where you order enough for two and enjoy your food like you are tasting it for the first time.
Well, I Have Colon Cancer…Again…
You are 58, and you’ve just been told you have colon cancer. Immediately your head starts racing. You try to think of all the right questions to ask the doctor, but all you can think about is not being at your child’s wedding, missing out on your grandchild’s first beautiful cry and your spouse celebrating your 30th wedding anniversary alone. You quickly snap out of the movie playing in your head, where your character was cut unexpectedly out of the script. What brings you back to reality is hearing your doctor say, “Your children will need to get their colon cancer screening before 50, so we can hopefully prevent colon cancer for them.”
Prevent colon cancer – those three words have taken over your thoughts. The guilt now starts to set in. You knew you were suppose to get your colon cancer screening at age 50; your family doctor told you it could help prevent colon cancer, but you ignored the advice. You were too embarrassed to get a colonoscopy, and now because of your embarrassment, you are headed over to your child’s house to tell them you have cancer.
Your spouse drives you to deliver the news. You can’t tell if the love of your life is seeing the road with those blank eyes holding back tears. You finally arrive at your child’s home and not soon enough, the silence in the car is suffocating.
Your baby, who is all grown up now, quickly realizes something is wrong. Everyone takes a seat in the living room, and you hear yourself saying, “I have colon cancer.” Immediately, the tears start flowing. Even at the age of 29, when your child cries your heart breaks. You explain the future as best as you can. There is surgery, and then rounds of chemo. You are going to lose your hair. Yes it’s going to be painful.
Painful. Yes the surgery and chemo are going to be painful, but you think to yourself that nothing is more painful than realizing you might have been able to save your loved ones from all this grief if you had just gone for your colonoscopy screening when your doctor advised you to.
So, I ask you again: Would you rather relive getting a colonoscopy or relive the day you have to tell your family you have colon cancer?
Sign me up for the colonoscopy!