My husband had his first colonoscopy last week.

Mike has always been a healthy man. He hasn't been in a hospital since the day he was born, has never been put under anesthesia. At age 53, his weight is excellent and he is very active, so he was somewhat resistant to getting the recommended tests that all men in his age group should get.

I was determined that Mike would get a complete physical, including a colonoscopy and the PSA test for prostate cancer. So while he grumbled and growled, I scheduled the doctor’s appointments, knowing that African Americans are at increased risk for colon cancer, prostate cancer and high blood pressure.

In the time leading up to the dreaded day, Mike was understandably nervous.

He was nervous about being put to sleep. He didn't think much of the required laxatives. He was starving. He wanted some meat and potatoes, not the Gatorade and broth he was allowed to have.

His biggest fear was the knowledge that a strange man was going to stick something up his rectum while he was asleep. Of course, I thought it was kinda funny. I told him Roto-Rooter was going to do his colonoscopy. I told him he was going to turn into an Atlanta bishop, wearing wigs and tight shirts.

I told him he might feel a little feminine afterwards and that he might get the urge to watch Oprah and cry over sad movies. I told him his voice might be higher pitched -- suggested that he perhaps could sing opera.

He didn't think that was funny. He began referring to the procedure as SURGERY. Very dramatic!

So, after a lot of nagging from me, after a lot of time in the "oval office," after a couple of hours on the table, he left the doctor’s office feeling pretty much the same as when he arrived. He still had bass in his voice. He still liked sports. He was still a manly man.

The doctor found one polyp that he sent off to pathology saying, "It doesn't look suspicious for cancer." We left feeling glad that Mike was ok and with advice to repeat the procedure in five years.

A few days later, however, the pathologist report came back pre-cancerous.

We were told that the entire polyp was removed during the procedure but that Mike will have to repeat the procedure in one year to ensure that he has no further growths.

So we celebrate! We thank God! We high-five each other! We rejoice that we were wise enough to listen to medical advice and willing to go through the inconveniences that accompany a colonoscopy. Thank God we didn't wait.

Pre-cancer that is small and gone is better than cancer any day.

Take care of yourself, folks. Take care of the folks you love. Nag. Threaten. Beg. Do what you gotta do, but get your loved ones to take their age-appropriate medical tests. It might just save a life.
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D. Barbara McWhite grew up in York County, S.C., and lives in Orange Park, Fla., with her husband and cat.
 

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