Commentary: Treating an indelicate subject as delicately as possible

They say that, after a certain age, a person should have a colonoscopy every five years.

All of us who have had that procedure know that it’s not the procedure that we resist but the one-day preparation for it.

My lovely doctor told me there is now a new kind of test for colon cancer that is non-invasive. It is done at home, and no preparation is required.

“Wow! That’s for me!” I said.

It’s not the polyps that are worrisome but what could be discovered that might be worse.

My doctor said the test kit would be delivered to my home. I should just follow instructions and return the kit in the enclosed packaging.

The kit arrived. It consisted of a large plastic container, a device that holds the container in a convenient place, a plastic bottle of unknown liquid and the directions for filling and returning the container.

Oh, dear. I couldn’t get the container open. It was too big for my hands, too big for my rubber lid-opener and defiant of every method I could think of to open it.

Since Lee died, I have no one to turn to for strength and discretion. Or so I first thought.

Jeanne!

When Jeanne and I were 8 and 7, she was already a foot taller than I. She would surely have bigger hands!

I called her. “Hello, dearie. It’s Lizzie.”

“Hello, Liz,” Jeanne said in that voice so dear.

“I have an awkward favor to ask of you,” I said.

“Oh, Liz. What could be embarrassing between us? We have known each other forever!”

I waited a moment and plunged ahead.

“OK, well, it’s this. My doctor wants me to ... provide a sample for a DNA test for colon cancer. And I can’t get the lid off the container.”

When she finished laughing, Jeanne said to bring it on over.

“Thanks,” I said. “On my way out to run errands, I’ll drop it off. If you aren’t there, I’ll leave it on your porch. In a plain brown wrapper.”

When I went to pick up the container, Jeanne said she hadn’t been able to open it either. It took her husband, Merritt, and all his strength to unscrew the cap.

The following day, I completed the sample according to instructions and everything was fine until the second-to-last instruction, which said to cover the specimen with the liquid in the enclosed bottle.

I looked at the specimen and I looked at the pitifully small bottle of liquid. I poured the liquid into the container. It didn’t come close to covering the sample.

I thought about this for a while. I looked at the address on the packaging for shipment. I decided that by the time the package got there, that liquid might well cover the specimen.

I screwed the container lid back on tight and prepared it for its trip to the laboratory.

The bottom line, no pun intended, is that I passed the test. No sign of colon cancer.

An indelicate subject, treated as delicately as possible.

LIZ SWIERTZ NEWMAN lives in Corona del Mar.