Did you know March 4th was Colon
Cancer Awareness day?
Were you aware
President Obama proclaimed March Colon Cancer Awareness month?
Did the country turn festively blue for the occasion
like the pink NFL fields in October?
Sadly, not so much.
Just like the silent
but deadly nature of our disease, the quest to raise awareness and increase the
visibility of colon cancer met with more than a little resistance.
Who wants to eat a butt cookie?
Walk through an inflatable colon?
Take a buddy to a colonoscopy? Or get one yourself?
Have you ever taken a pal home from a colonoscopy? It’s like working with a drunk 5 year old. You have to help them get dressed, they fart and giggle, they forget where they are going, they repeat themselves, and they repeat themselves, but that's a whole nother story.
You really have to know who your true friends are since they are going to be handling you in a very vulnerable state. Ask the wrong friend and you could quite literally end up as the butt of a very bad joke or minimally badly dressed.
Most know my story, at 40; I was diagnosed with Stage One colon cancer. I had bowel resection surgery within 4 weeks, needed no chemo or radiation and went on to attend a family reunion in South Dakota just 7 weeks after surgery. It was no cake walk, but it certainly cleared my perspective of what was truly important and made me glad that I was hyper aware of any digestive irregularities. I had bouts where my “output” would appear that I had overdosed on hot tamale candies or tomato products when I had eaten neither recently. That was a big clue that something was awry in the pipes.
As a result of my early detection experience, 47-52 people scheduled and completed scopes. Many had been putting it off due to the inconvenient nature of the prep and procedure. Got to tell you, if you think THAT is inconvenient; try a cancer diagnosis. That will really cramp your style in a big way. Spending a few hours on the porcelain throne is minimal. Overall, I was left with a compelling story, a minor scar and… a semi-colon.
Mr. M, Hope Star (me)
with THE SHOES and Mr. M Jr.
Of all my vast colorectal experience, the best part was at
the Undy Run in June 2013. The
first colon cancer survivor to wear the mascot outfit and be the HOPE
Star! I take that role very seriously
every time I accept a buddy role. Check
out the SHOES! They were the best part
of the whole outfit! Aside from the fact
that it was 90 degrees outside that day and the circulation is fairly non-existent
in a suit like that.
In the rest room, I
didn’t want to take time to completely undress and the gal in the stall next to
me cracked up when she saw those enormous orange hi-tops under the partition. And
my work there was done.
Currently, there
is a collaborative effort on a Facebook page to have survivors, patients and all
persons affected by colon cancer interact to share hope, stories, support, and
ideas for combating the challenges of the disease. The page often reminds me that while I am a
survivor, I walked a much easier path than most. March also marks the birthday of a friend my
age whose diagnosis came too late for any medical intervention. While there have been triumphs, there have
been significant losses in this path as well.
On the plus side, my boys know that when they are 30, they can camp out
at Chez Meeker, do their prep and get a front row seat to their first butt
scope. It will truly be a bonding
experience from the open back gown and tacky socks to the fentanyl fog. But I will feel better knowing that they have
early detection working in their favor, since they have my unfortunate genetics.
My personal favorite, 'Get cheeky - colon cancer can be sneaky! Nip it in the butt!'
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