Colonoscopy schedule creep

While I am grateful to the medical community for all the excellent treatment I’ve received over the years, my expectations are high, and I am disappointed when they do things that are not in my best interest. Nothing bad happened, but you could still call this a cautionary tale about manipulation and will.

I am BRCA-positive. The three biggest risks for me are ovarian cancer, breast cancer and colon cancer. I’ve already had ovarian and breast, so, you know, only one left.

Because of my BRCA status, I am on the five-year plan for colonoscopies. I’m due in 2020. I’ve never had an abnormal result, but they like to keep close tabs. At my annual physical, my primary care physician said she’d start the referral process for the colonoscopy. Faster than you can say Jack Robinson, I get a call from the gastro clinic wanting me to come in for a pre-screen.

I said, “I don’t want to do it until 2020.” I did not say, “Because my last colonoscopy was in 2015. I’m on the five-year plan. Do the math.”

She said this is just a pre-screening with the nurse practitioner. Fine. I went this week, and first off, I did not like the nurse. She had sort of a fake kindly voice but only wanted one-word answers to her questions, and I got the distinct feeling she would lock me in an insane asylum if she could. Not that she would be the first.

The pre-screen all went well, and then she said, “OK, let’s get you scheduled!” It was like the Party City ads on TV:

Oh, it’s on.

She escorts me to a room, where a clerk is ready to schedule my event. I said, “I don’t want to do it until 2020.” She said, “We don’t book that far out in advance.”

I said (in my outside voice) this is bullshit.

“I told the person who called me to schedule this appointment I wasn’t due for my five-year check-up until 2020.” She said, and I quote, “Oh.”

Then she explains I’ll simply need to call back as we get closer to the date. What? December? January? There was no specific guidance. Then for the kicker, she added, “We already sent your prep kit to the pharmacy, but don’t worry, it has a long shelf life.”

I was not amused. Because I am a worry wart, I’m thinking, what is a long shelf life? What if I drink all that crap and have to do it again because it wasn’t fresh? By the time I got home, I was hungry and pissed. I made myself a monster tuna melt with good Swiss cheese and Dale’s homemade bread, and it was comforting and delicious.

As I sat there eating what Dale called my Hearty He-Girl Lunch, I recounted the story to him. I explained my dilemma. Every five years is enough. Even though it’s just a couple of month’s difference, doing it in 2019 basically cheats me out of a year. Because next time, they will say, oh, you had it done in 2019. Your next one is in 2024, not 2025, as previously scheduled.

Of course, I could get over my snit and do it this year. I’ve already met the deductible. Nothing prevents me from speaking up and correcting this when they push for the next one in 2024. But I hate getting manipulated because they run a colonoscopy mill.

As I write this, I’m half-way talking myself into doing it after Thanksgiving but before Christmas. In the end, getting the colonoscopy done a few months earlier is no big deal if I dismiss the manipulation charges.

All vigilance is in the interest of my continued good health, right? When I remind myself I am very lucky to have survived both ovarian and breast cancer, I’m exceedingly grateful and not nearly as pissed about the colonoscopy schedule creep.

I am reminded of the quote from Mother Blues by the musician Ray Wylie Hubbard.

“And the days that I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations, well, I have really good days.”