Since getting my two cancer diagnoses last October, getting tested for cancer has become a sort of hobby of mine. There have been the regular blood tests, the always fun cystoscopy, and even a bone scan. I decided to expand on this hobby with the addition of colon cancer screening.
Actually, my doctor made this decision. I prefer to think of it as her belated gift to me after my 50th birthday. The traditional gift is a colonoscopy, but I insisted there was no need to go through so much trouble on account of lil ol’ me. So I get to try out Cologuard instead, and am very happy I don’t have to put my ailing digestive tract through colonoscopy prep right now.
You’ve probably seen Cologuard commercials on TV. Their mascot is an anthropomorphized version of the box they mail to your house to collect the “sample”. I’ve taken to calling it the shitbox. It’s a bright white box with a big CG logo on the side. If you know what it is you can spot it a mile away. You become aware of this when the UPS driver leaves it on your front step for all the neighbors to see.
I didn’t collect my “sample” right away. My “samples” have been a bit irregular as I was on an antibiotic for a tooth infection. It turns out my root canal was botched and needs to be redone, which is happening tomorrow. If it’s not one thing it’s another, but I digress.
After the antibiotics were done, I started my next cancer drug. That also affected my “samples” initially, so more delays. During this time I got repeated calls and even something in the mail reminding me to collect my sample. Great, now I’m getting nagged by an anthropomorphic shitbox.
There’s a surprising large instruction book that guides you through the process step by step. I read the process of unpacking the kit and getting everything ready with increasing interest. Each step had several illustrations accompanying it. With increasing suspense I wondered, would there be an illustration for the, ahem, “collection” step? How graphic would it be? Not very graphic actually, but I still giggled with adolescent delight at an illustration of somebody having a poo.
Okay, so now that I’ve had my morning “sample”, it’s time to ship it back for testing. I looked up UPS drop off points on the interweb, and was shocked to find out it could be taken at the local hardware store. Umm. I’m going to have to say “no” to walking into a hardware store holding a box with a giant CG logo on it. Not too much further away is a genuine UPS customer center. Let’s go there instead.
Sadly I forgot my trench coat and dark sunglasses, mostly because I don’t own a trench coat. Instead I just put the box under my arm, with the arm over the side with the big logo on it., and tried not to make eye contact while walking through the parking lot. I guess I’m a bit self conscious about carrying a box with my “sample” in public, but not so shy about describing the whole thing on the interweb. Go figure.
And that’s my Cologuard story. I’m now anxiously awaiting the results, as I anxiously awaited many of the cancer related tests that have been done over the past 7 months. I tend to be in one of three states of mind lately.
State of mind 1 is the most expected. It worries about test results, and thinks about how bad a negative result would be. This is a flawed approach. It assumes that the disease doesn’t exist until the test finds it, so if you don’t get the test you won’t get the disease. I’m sure it led to some procrastination in my initial diagnoses, which didn’t help the situation.
State of mind 2 is sort of a disinterested zen state. This is an improvement over State 1, and is arguably the best state to be in. A positive Cologuard result just means I have to go and get a colonoscopy anyway. If that finds something, hopefully it will be early enough for a quick and full cure. It’s very detached emotionally and focuses on solving the problem at hand. Frankly, it would rather be out running or hiking or playing a video game.
I was in my disinterested zen state today and noticed that the light of the setting sun highlighted the ridges on my thumbnail. Not the normal lengthwise ridges, but the crosswise ones caused by the changing speed of nail growth during chemo. Each ridge represents a chemo cycle, sort of like growth rings in a tree. There’s quite a bit of nail without ridges now, showing the time I’ve been recovering from chemo.
State of mind 3 is by far the most fun. It’s my super-hero alter ego, Obstinate Man, and lately includes extreme bravado. I brag about my cancers. How I got two diagnoses in a month, and now one has been removed entirely and the other is on the way to complete remission. How I ran throughout chemo and am now taking a minute a mile off my pace every two weeks. It’s probably insufferable to listen to but it gives me the aura of control. “Do you want to come at me with a third cancer? Bring it on, bitch!” Obstinate Man is starting to sound a bit like Jessie from “Breaking Bad”.
As I wrap this up, I see a vapor trail moving across the sky, brightly lit by the setting sun while everything around is in shadow. I wonder if there’s a bit of me on that plane.
No comments:
Post a Comment