Over a plate of Swiss Chicken, my Mom says in the tone of pass the salt "Dad has the gene for Colon Cancer, a mild form." Interesting. I respond with "how about pepper instead" tone, "What's the next step?" The conversation continued in that matter of fact tone for 10 minutes or so. It may seem strange on a lot of levels looking from the outside in, but in all fairness this has been going on for a little over four months now and it's either the matter of fact response or quivering lip. Matter of Fact seems JUST fine!
Back in December I mentioned that my Dad had a fubared colonoscopy that landed him in the hospital for three days. Not only was the area where they had removed a polyp bleeding, Doctor X had missed 13 or so polyps! The Fix-It Doctor was hesitant to say that Doctor X had made a huge mistake, but seriously? He messed up BIG TIME! Had my Dad not started bleeding the missed polyps would have continued to grow and turned into Colon Cancer by his next colonoscopy! So I guess if Doctor X was going to mess up it was better to make it a big one!
The Fix-it Doctor diagnosed my Dad with Attenuated Familial Adenomatous Polyposis based upon the amount of polyps he found, recommended that our entire family see a Genetic Specialist. We should also start having frequent colonoscopy's and stomach scopes. Awesome - NOT! I vividly remember my Mom calling me that cold, snowy December evening with the news. I immediately couldn't breath and started quietly crying under my breath standing at the kitchen counter. Trying not to have a breakdown, I slowly started speaking in a very shaky voice, "Mom I can't do it!!! (frequent colonoscopy's and stomach scopes). What does this mean for Elle?" As if my Mom could just make it all go away because I was throwing a fit. Even at 44 I'm still looking to my Mommy to kiss and make it all better!
Now unemotionally, I know that I have to get a blood test, colonoscopy and a stomach scope. Blood test - I can do it! Colonoscopy and stomach scope - Ya, not so much! I have a thing about being put under with anesthesia; losing control kind of thing; saying things I can't take back! I worried about that very thing this past summer with my "procedure". And sure enough, I went off about Vanilla Diet Cokes at Hires.
What I'm really worried about is spilling the beans about that one dollar bill I have stashed away for an emergency, stuck in between the Q-tips. Or the brand new potato chip bag that's laying behind the rice maker, so I can have fresh/crisp chips when I make sandwich. Not the stale ones from the 10 bags my kids have opened. Or the chocolate bar, buried under the frozen corn in the freezer! My secrets - I want to keep them secrets - so my snacking ability stays in tact!
All humor aside, I know I have to take the first step and get all three tests. On a rational level, it's better to know than not. On a whole other level I wish I could just say "How about Pepper instead?"