My latest tattoo

If you have a butterfly tattooed on the back of your neck, a heart adorning your left buttock, or even Death and Glory emblasoned across your chest, then God bless you.  Such artistry is not, however, to my taste. I prefer my tattoos in more subtle places... places where I'll rarely, if ever, see them.  Allow me to explain.

Every couple of years, people in my age group are invited to take a test for bowel cancer — known affectionately as the poo test.  It's all wonderfully simple.  You do it yourself in the privacy of your home and post off a few small samples of poo, which are then tested for traces of blood. 2% of tests will yield a positive result and this will trigger an investigation to find out what is causing the bleeding.

Just over 3 years ago I found myself among the "2%" and was advised to have a colonoscopy – basically a camera on a long hosepipe, stuck up my bum — to investigate the problem.  They found a tubular adenoma (polyp) that was thankfully benign but showed early signs of structural change. As you can imagine, I was very glad to be rid of it. The spot where the polyp had been was marked with a tattoo – the first I'd ever had!

Since I have a proven tendency to produce bowel polyps, I was automatically recalled after 3 years for another colonoscopy.  The procedure was the same as last time.  After a day on a low fibre diet, I had to give up all food and instead drink 4 litres of a strong laxative (Klean Prep) to clear out my bowel, and at least a further 3 litres of liquid to prevent dehydration.  Believe me, that's a lot of liquid! Three years ago, several friends told me to expect violent, uncontrollable diarrhoea but it really wasn't too bad.  By the 4th litre of laxative, though, I admit to loathing the taste, even with the addition of generous quantities of lime juice.

For the procedure itself I accepted a mild sedation. One lady I heard of said that she nodded off completely; others described a sense of detached euphoria. And me?  Well it must have worked since I felt nothing uncomfortable, though I wasn't aware of being sedated. I chatted with the nurse throughout and contentedly watched the camera view on the monitor.  And yes, there was my little tattoo from 3 years ago.

This is what polyps look like in the early stages. I'll leave you
to Google photos of later ones. They're not at all nice.

This time the colonoscopy revealed another polyp, which they removed and marked the spot with a tattoo, so now I have two. Earlier today a cheery nurse phoned to tell me that the polyp was, as they had suspected, benign. However, since it was again a tubular adenoma, and these can turn cancerous, they want me back in 3 years' time.

I've heard of people refusing the poo test as it's rather messy, and if something is wrong then they don't wish to know about it. They're entitled to their opinion, of course, though I do think it extremely foolish.  My mum's sister died of bowel cancer in her early 70's and it wasn't a pleasant death.  I have often thought that, if these tests had been available in her day, she might have lived for many more years.

I have subsequently discovered several other members of the "2% Club". Three people at church, and even my sister-in-law and her husband, have also failed the dreaded poo test and had colonoscopies.  Perhaps, for those of my vintage, one might even call it a right of passage.