A Peculiarly Odd & Onerous Proposition

“Self-realization. I was thinking of the immortal words of Socrates, who said, "I drank what?" ~ Chris Knight (played by Val Kilmer), “Real Genius” - 1985

When I was four, I'm told that I climbed up the back of an armchair, a youthful indiscretion that resulted in a fallen chair and a split chin. I have no recollection of my nascent climbing exploit. I do recall the aftermath, however. An aged family doctor near retirement and four painful stitches administered sans anesthesia, to the accompaniment of my own strident screams. I don't think I've looked forward to a doctor's visit since.

Fast forward to less than a month ago, and my most recent medical encounter. After successfully deferring a 'regularly scheduled physical' for more than five years – partially due to relocating almost an hour away from my previous doctor's office – I finally went 'under the glove' (so to speak), receiving my first full physical exam from a female practitioner. The entire procedure was professionally administered and, er, very thorough... Though the situation left me feeling extremely uncomfortable. Before anyone labels me as sexist, though, I readily admit that any and all discomfort on my part was likely psychological, and not a reflection on the quality of care received.

Fast forward to today, and the 'opportunity' realized from last month's physical. In the course of my

recent appointment, I was asked a number of questions about my prior medical history, including questions about a specific, er, 'procedure' that is commonly prescribed for patients in my age group (i.e. quinquagenarians)... a procedure I have – to-date – consistently managed to avoid. My new Physician's Assistant was very persistent, though, seemingly caring significantly more about my health (or significantly less about my personal discomfort) than I do. In the end (no pun intended), my intransigence was rewarded by what sounded – at least initially – like a less uncomfortable alternative... The Cologuard test.

Without sharing specific details, I suppose that, in hindsight (again, no pun intended) the test itself is well designed and, to a certain extent, even, er, 'ergonomic'. That said, you're still left with your, er, 'sample', which you then have to ship... In as inconspicuous a fashion as possible (or at least that was my goal). Thankfully, the test's accompanying shipping instructions stated that it could be returned via any UPS Drop Box... Failing to mention that said UPS Drop Boxes are designed for significantly smaller, er, 'samples'... Something I realized after standing in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded parking lot for several minutes while trying to inconspicuously force my ... er... into... um...... never mind.

Eventually, I was able to place my 'sample' on the counter of a very crowded and well-lit UPS Store for expedited shipment. I suppose I should be grateful that, today's discomforts aside, I've still managed to avoid a 'coming of age experience' most would agree is more intrusive. Still, when such uncomfortable, medically-related situations arise, there's a little four-year old inside of me left painfully scratching the four stitches in his chin.