Sixth colonoscopy

I have an appointment with my colon surgeon tomorrow. I am due for my annual colonoscopy. My first colon cancer spread to my lungs, and the doc says that I can always get new cancers, thus the yearly colonoscopy. Tomorrow he will give me the prescription for the prep and we’ll make an appt for the colonoscopy.

I have had five colonoscopies. One year I messed up the prep instructions, and the colonoscopy actually had to be rescheduled. I would rather not have that happen again; it’s pretty embarrassing not to be able to follow basic instructions.

So my sixth colonoscopy draws near. I’m not ready for this prep, not when I’m still dealing with the effects of my second bout with shingles. I was in the hospital for three days last week, sick, in pain, and throwing up. It would be nice to have a little respite before I have to deal with the nausea of the colonoscopy prep.

I should be valuing the colonoscopy because it means early detection. But I dutifully had a colonoscopy in 2002, and it was clear. Either the doctor (not my current surgeon) didn’t see the cancer or it hadn’t begun yet, because in 2005 I was diagnosed with stage I colon cancer. Then, even with annual colonoscopies and PET/CT scans every three months, I was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer in 2008.

I feel like I should be cancer-free. I have been the poster-child for getting tested and being proactive. But still I got colon cancer, and still it progressed to stage IV.

So although I’m very grateful to have health care that covers colonoscopies, I have mixed feelings about actually having them. I have to deal with this anger and sadness every year. I did what I was supposed to do, and it didn’t matter.

Many of us have this story, whether at home or at work. We feel like we fell through the cracks somehow, and we feel alone. Of course, we are not.