My spouse is having a colonoscopy on Monday. I think this is the 3rd or 4th time he’s had one. Like clockwork. It’s a horrible experience from my viewpoint. Which is why I won’t have one. As I get older, I’m less interested in finding out what is going to kill me. I’d prefer the element of surprise. I can remember going to a naturopath a long time ago for allergy issues and he asked me if I wanted to know when I was going to die. I said no. And didn’t see him again. It was unnerving. And creepy. Anyway, I realize if I had something to live for, I’d probably do all of the tests, but I’m not going to. Even if my doctor found something wrong with one of my organs during a routine exam, I’d say nice to know, but I’m not doing anything for it. Why spend thousands and thousands of dollars, go through a horrible event like chemotherapy or whatever, only to extend my life by just a couple of years. Makes no sense to me. But I try to live a fairly healthy life. Don’t drink, don’t smoke, get some exercise, eat balanced meals with plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables. Just basic living. I can’t avoid stress. Stuff just happens. Am I afraid of death? Of course. It’s the great unknown. But where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, the colonoscopy. My spouse is a hypochondriac. He’ll probably insist that the doctor ruptured something or caused major pain. And he’ll want some sort of pain medication, too. That’s pretty much what happened last time. I shouldn’t be too hard on him, though. He’s been a very sick person most of our married life. Hep C, prostate issues which led to surgery, a torn arm muscle, diabetes……And he isn’t shy about telling me and anyone who will listen about his medical problems. Personally, I would just go up the nearest mountain and wait to die if I wasn’t such a coward.