Like just about everything in life, the medical matters we deal with change as we grow older.

In childhood it's trips to the pediatrician for vaccinations and ear infections; tonsilectomies; polio vaccines delivered on sugar cubes in church basements.

Teen years often bring braces and acne treatments.  Maybe the occasional broken bone or bout with mono.

For women, that first trip to a gynecologist is a milestone.  Hope for one whose speculum isn't chilled by the air conditioning.

Guys, tell me, is it as much of a milestone the first time the doctor  and tells you to turn your head and cough?

It seems to me that once you get past 30, medical wisdom begins assigning diagnostic tests depending on your personal decade.  In the case of mammograms, medical experts have lots of different opinions -- first one at 35, or 40, or even according to some, 50.

I started at 35 but was sporadic.  That said, even I was amazed that 5 years slipped by in between this important screening exam.  It has nothing to do with a reluctance to have my somewhat large boobs compressed between two pieces of plastic.  The discomfort only lasts a couple of seconds.  I got sloppy in between changing doctors.

I turned 50 in January and knew that another medical milestone awaited.  I started with a new primary care physician earlier this month (WONDERFUL woman and doctor.  Love her.)  It had been a couple of years since I did the regular diagnostic things like blood tests, and EKG and the aforementioned mammogram.  I fully expected her to write those orders.  Then she slipped in, very matter of fact, that it was also time for a colonoscopy.

Knowing this and accepting it are still miles away from wanting it, but sometimes you just have to suck it up and do what's necessary.  I saw the doctor who will perform the procedure earlier this week and scheduled the day.  I talked to him like a mature adult -- and the whole time tried not to think about the indignity of lying bare-assed, on a table in the outpatient o.r. while this nice man inserts a tube and video camera up my butt and examines me from the inside.

Even though I'll be asleep for this, it weirds me out a little.

You know how many women have perfectly formed, toned, smooth-skinned derrieres? 

I'm not one of them.  I'm tempted to have someone stick a temporary tattoo to my right butt cheek that says, "Daisy" or "Breakstone" in homage to my cottage cheese dimpling.

In the midst of my internal cringing, one thought immediately switched my perspective and brightened my mood.

I only have to do this once in awhile.  The doctor told me he's performed about 9000 colonoscopies which means he inserts medical equipment in patients' asses several times a week.

By the way, if you dread undergoing this important screening test so much that you've put off scheduling one, I urge you read humor columnist Dave Barry's column on the subject of his first colonoscopy.  I read it the day it first appeared and it made me realize that there's no good reason not to go through with this potentially life-saving procedure.  The column is priceless!  Click here to read.