I’ve just completed the Just-Turned-Fifty Right-of Passage, passage, of course, being the operative word. If you are under 50, move along. Please. You have no business here.

If you are over 50, you either know what I’m talking about or you should know. They say the prep is the worst part. It isn’t. The worry is the worst part. (But, the prep is pretty awful – I’ve learned a few tips that helped. PM me if you want to know more.) And, coming out of this with a clean bill of health is a worthy pay-out for a day or two of running through worst-case scenarios in my tiny brain.

The fasting part was actually the easiest, because really, when you’ve just drank a quart of dirty sea sludge, trust me, you don’t have an appetite. I vow never to complain about having four bathrooms in our home again – they came in very handy. A half a stone lighter, not nearly as hungry as I thought I’d be and enjoying life on this side of the milestone makes me want to judge (harshly) those of you who have put off this event because you are afraid.

Colonoscopies are no picnic, but I imagine wearing a colostomy bag on your stomach for the rest of your life isn’t, either. From what I’ve read, colon cancer is the second leading cause of death in our country. Here’s the thing – caught as polyps (as my husband’s were) ensures the cancer is nipped in the bud, so to speak.

Stop being a baby.

The only disappointing thing about this whole experience is that they don’t give out stickers like they do at the voting booth on election day.