By the time you read this I will be married to a 50-year-old. Yep, Zach turned 50 on March 4. All in all, not much has changed, with a few exceptions: he seems to be more receptive to taking ibuprofen, eating veggie burgers, and taking vitamins. Which is sort of a miracle since up until now he’s been ten foot tall and bulletproof and very unwilling to admit that a steady diet of bacon and Apple Jacks may not be the way to a healthy future. So, when Zach came to me and said that it was time for a physical, I was elated. I would finally have vindication for all my constant nagging about cholesterol. But what transpired was more than I could have imagined. We went to our physicals and for the most part all went well. As I guessed, his cholesterol was high, and a discussion was had about diet vs. heredity. Of course, Zach wasn’t exactly truthful about his steady diet of sugar and fat and left there feeling smug. I know that his arteries are lined with thick cut bacon.
We also left there with two prescriptions for Cologuard. What’s Cologuard, you ask? Well it’s the new non-invasive alternative to a colonoscopy. Yep. You read that right. Since we are both pretty immature, we giggled about it for a week until the little white boxes arrived. I set them on the table and we both walked past them for a week, didn’t even bother to open them. Somewhere deep inside me I was afraid if I opened one a beam of light would shine up and outside letting everyone in town know we were about to poop in a box. Ok, not really, but you get the idea right? The next thing to happen were the almost daily reminders from our friends at Cologuard. “Don’t forget to send in your Cologuard test.” “Its time to see your results.” “Your doctor is waiting for the results.”
Good grief, once you agree to the “Cologuard challenge” you are pretty much at the point of no return. So, we made a plan. We would do “it” on a Sunday and have “it” all whisked away on Monday. I followed the directions for the UPS pickup and almost died of embarrassment when I realized someone was coming to my house to pick up our very obvious sample. One of the pitfalls of being a UPS driver, I guess.
On one very ominous Sunday we did it. I must have used a whole roll of tape making sure our samples wouldn’t be a terrible accident for some poor unsuspecting package handler. We stacked them by the front door and walked around them for an entire day. First thing in the morning I shoved them out on the porch and watched from my office window. When I finally saw the UPS driver enter my yard I had a pang of anxiety that evolved into relief that the boxes were finally gone. Panic set in when I realized there was a box with my name on it with my ‘you know what’ driving down the road. Suddenly a good old traditional colonoscopy didn’t seem so bad.
Well, I’m happy to report that it all worked out. We are cancer-free and able to face the UPS driver once again. Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart, especially when you are as immature as Zach and I are. We have a lot to tackle in this new phase of our lives and we are trying hard to handle it like mature, responsible adults. (Emphasis on “trying.”)
Let’s end this story with a joke:
A Dung beetle walks into a bar and asks the bartender, “Excuse me sir, can you direct me to the nearest stool?”
Get it? Dung beetle? Stool? No? I guess you had to be there.
Happy 50th Birthday to my heart, my soul, my Zach.