Tuesday 28 May 2013

Black Snake Down... the Colonoscopy Diaries

The issue of colonoscopy, and men's health-screening in general, is clouded by false bravado, a macho "she'll be right, mate" attitude, and good old-fashioned embarrassment. Guilty as charged, Your Honour...

So it was with major reluctance that I finally bit the bullet after extensive hassling by my medical mates, and signed up for a routine colonoscopy. In my job, I diagnose bowel cancers with fairly high regularity in otherwise healthy people with completely unrelated complaints- around once a week. A typical scenario would be someone complaining of abdominal pain after an injury, perhaps a road accident, where an advanced tumour is picked up on a CT scan, completely unrelated to their presenting symptoms. With the benefit of this insight, and the knowledge that a small curable tumour is readily detected by colonoscopy (aka: The Black Snake- industry jargon for the colonoscope- a petit 1.5 metre flexible telescope), and these can be removed easily and curatively by the gastroenterologist during the procedure.

Snakes... why'd it have to be snakes?
Being on the business end of healthcare is new to me, and due to the somewhat taboo nature of the subject matter- not exactly a hot topic at cocktail parties- and its importance in early cancer prevention, I decided to keep a log of my experiences on the business end of the black divining rod.


C-Day Minus 1 : Flushing Meadows


8am: The Last Supper. Im allowed a slice of toast before switching to the requisite 24 hrs of clear fluids. Feeling confident... this will be a walk in the park. 

10am: Time for the first load of prep fluid... a litre of lukewarm salty stuff... reminds me vaguely of swallowing seawater after a nasty surfing wipeout... although not quite as satisfying...

12 midday: Lunchtime. Im now 2 litres deep in gatorade and various other fluids, but hunger is starting to niggle. Decided to tuck into lunch early- an orange Chuppa Chup. Really hits the spot. For 10 mins or so... 

2pm: i don't do hypoglycaemia well. My train of thought is becoming a little cloudy. I apologise to my partner for my vagueness, stupidity and inability to concentrate. She says she hadn't noticed any change in me...

3pm: Text message from a friend offering to bring round a box of Krispy Kremes. Salt into the wound... very cruel. I consider reporting it to the RSPCA, but instead opt to scoff half a litre of gatorade...

4pm: Cancelled my afternoon's activities... brain function minimal and fading rapidly... this calls for couch vegetation, Jaws movies, and a few litres of Pump water.

Rolf Harris never missed a gastroenterology appointment...

4.15pm: But seriously... I would inhale a box of Krispy Kremes right now...

6pm: The icing on the cake... the Imperial Grand Poobah... the gravy on the meatballs... an oversize litre jug of lemon intestinal lavage. This shit is almost starting to grow on me. The latrine has become like an old friend.

8pm: Lining up some scary movies... I figure if i scare the crap out of my girlfriend, it'll put us on a level playing field...


C-Day : Up, Periscope

6am: Feeling a little drained after a night spent catching up on my bathroom Rolling Stone mag collection, which I can now recite backwards on demand.

7am: The theatre staff are super-friendly and feign amusement at my unoriginal gags- "Be gentle, it's my first time..." and "Will you still respect me tomorrow?" 

Spanish Pole-dancing, coming soon to a club near you...

7.10am: I find myself kitted up in a pair of smouldering-hot disposable paper jocks, a green hairpiece and a Hugh Hefner bathrobe. Dressed to kill... I enquire if their fashion package comes with a Cuban cigar opton. I'm disappointed to learn that's not the case, nor do they offer an online shopping facility for their undergarment range. I make a mental note of this as-yet untapped fashion goldmine.


7.15am: The theatre nurses, despite their obvious amusement at my newfound flair for see-through disposable fashion, are very professional. My anaesthetist, an old acquaintance, offers me a choice of potent narcotic cocktails- 'The Cruiser', 'The Executive', or 'The Sledgehammer'? The bar is open, kids... I choose option C, without hesitation. A wise choice, she assures me as she puts in my IV.

8.30am: My next memory is reclining in a Gold Class recliner chair in recovery, smashing down a tray of sandwiches, cappuccinos and chocolate bars like a Guantanamo Bay hunger-striker. I have zero recollection of the procedure and no after-effects or discomfort whatsoever other than the feeling of having shotted a few tequilas. 

Turn The Other Cheek...


So there it is. My motive for enlightening you with my personal Black Snake Saga is really to illustrate that, as a bloke and a doctor, routine screening colonoscopy shouldn't be avoided out of overblown bloke-ish pride or machismo... talk to your doc about it. The experience overall is a walk in the park, and colonoscopy is a test that can save your life by early detection of small, curable cancers.

Bottoms Up!


Sir... according to the State of New York, you are the Assman....


Sunday 21 April 2013

Success and The Dumbing-Down Syndrome

Welcome to the Dumbing Down...

Once apon a time, in a far-away land of sugar gum-drop fairies and purple unicorns, there was a very different way of thinking about education. The people of this mythical land believed that to get ahead in life, you had to learn shit. All kinds of weird shit... stuff  like spelling, grammar, post-graduate study and degrees. They believed in a philosophy that Knowledge is Power. And they respected those with knowledge, because they understood that the Knowledgeable could use that power to help them get ahead... to grow... to heal... to advance their position in life and achieve a better living standard... When the Knowledgeable gave them advice... they listened and respected it.

In the Here and Now World of 2013, though, there is a rising and very different set of values, especially in the Land Down Under. Knowledge and education have taken a back-seat to ego, materialism, cosmeticism, steroids and swag. This cocktail of attention-seeking attributes is pushing old-school hard yakka, intelligence and work ethic onto the back-burner as desirable traits for success (at least at face value). This revolution of attitudes has emerged rapidly over the past 3-5 years, most radically in Australia, and nowhere more so than the Jewel in the Dumbing-Down Crown... the Gold Coast.

I Like it a lot...

What the hell is going on? Why the quantum shift in attitudes in just a few short years? 

The answer is complex, but can basically be put down to a shrinking world in the forms of Google-isation and Social Media, fused with the good old-fashioned Aussie Knocker's Syndrome, the mainstreaming of cosmetic surgery and ready availability of performance-enhancing drugs to the punter on the street.



Google-isation is Coming...

Google-isation is at once a blessing and a curse. At no point in human history has so much information been available to so many with such ease. The problem, though, is a lot of that information is basically horse-shit. And a lot of what is posted out there is driven by individuals' personal agendas. Let's say, for example, I had a bug up my ass about a particular health issue... let's suppose my Uncle Herb died of a complication during a routine colonoscopy, generally considered a safe procedure 99% of the time, but with a rare incidence of death in 1/10,000 cases. The thing is, though, old Herb was having this test done in the first place to look for a bowel cancer which might have killed him if not detected early, so for every 100 tests, maybe 2-3 lives are actually saved. So the pros clearly outweigh the cons here.


The Gospel According to Herb's Ass...

But let's say my mythical Uncie Herb was a very close relative, and now I've got a serious bug up my ass (pun intended) over this issue. So I make like a keyboard warrior and start a Facebook page calling for the banning of this shocking life-threatening medical procedure.... most punters have no idea about colonoscopy other than what they read on my page, so they "Like" it, share it, and maybe have a little ignorant tantrum about it on their own page. And so it goes on... and pretty soon we have half-a-million misinformed social media sheep spreading the Gospel According to Herb's Ass.  Next thing you know, you have a few politicians who's medical education extends no further than Grade 9 frog dissection, hopping on the bandwagon and blowing the Trumpet of Herb's Ass in federal parliament calling for a ban.

Sound ridiculous? Moronic? Inconceivable?

Think again... right now there are a myriad of moronic social media campaigns threatening to impact on everyday healthcare.... most notably the ludicrous anti- Fluoride and anti- Vaccine campaigns, based on irrational and unscientific hysteria... with little or no regard for good old-fashioned balanced scientific assessment.


Knock 'Em Down...

Aussies love to take the piss out of anyone they perceive as more successful than themselves. Don't ask me why- maybe it stems back to deepseated convict issues, or maybe it's a symptom of getting smashed by the All Blacks so frequently. I have no idea. But what is clear is that if you stick your neck out in the form of flexing your brain muscle in this country... it will end up in a basket, Marie Antoinette-style. 

Spelling... grammar... gratuitous use of facts... these are the cardinal sins of Social Media and should be avoided at all costs in the interest of conformism, and will be treated with contempt at best... abuse at worst. Boobs, biceps, bullshit and bling are the keys to the Digital City, and will be rewarded with accolades from your new legion of fans- for those who conform. The new currency is Mass Validation on Social Media, and this has changed the way many people behave in the real world. Dumbing Down is now playing on a Social Media App near you...




Mass Social Media Validation vs Real-World Success

As a business owner, the cold hard reality, unfortunately for those who relentlessly pursue digital-world success, is that "success" in the Social Media world DOES NOT translate into tangible success in the real world in any way, shape or form... the brutal but unspoken truth is that when applying for a real-world job, old-school values like education, respect, personal grooming, eye contact and articulation remain critical to success, just as they are in conducting successful business. Bling, boobs, biceps and 40,000 'Likes' count for nothing.

Living in a city that rewards bling and exhibitionism above intelligence, humour and respect can be quite isolating at times, but the trade-off is the unique coastal lifestyle.


I'm not naive... far from it.  Just a die-hard realist... ;)