The morning after

So March is National Colorectal Awareness Month. Sure, it's not as fun as Peanut Butter Lovers' Month or Talk Like a Pirate Day, but possibly far more important to you and those you love.

My dad died of colorectal cancer in 2005. Mainly because he let too much time pass between the tests that would have detected and removed his polyps before cancer could start. Because of this devastating family history, my sister and I were cautioned to start our first screening at 40. And we did-- my sister a few years ago, and yesterday was my turn.

The verdict? I'm not sure I fully understand what all the hubbub is about. As women, we get pap smears, mammograms and -by choice- squeeze giant-headed children out of our lady parts. In comparison, this test doesn't even hurt. Sure, there's a fair amount of, ahem, prepping involved, but nothing uncomfortable like having the stomach flu or the morning after a Mexican food and tequila bender. And the test itself is just a drug-induced nap. Yanking wisdom teeth is far worse, and c'mon, most of us were teenagers when we had that done.

Perhaps I'm a little too eager to bring up other people's colons, but I'm saddened by the number of people I know that have not been tested or immediately go on the defense with a hearty "no way!" As my dad reflected from his hospital bed, "Having colon cancer is like having a colonoscopy every single day." Instead, I'll take every 5 to 10 years. I hope you will, too.