I turned 50 this year.
In Australia, that's a significant milestone.
It means I can now send the government my poo, and not get in trouble for it.
I don't know how you feel about politics, but I often think having a pile of poo in Parliament House would not be much different to what we have. So I'm eager to contribute my fair share to the pile.
But apart from the delight in knowing that one can give the government poo, there's a serious side to this rite of passage.
Australians 50 and over get a request from the government to provide a sample of our poo, to test for bowel cancer. I know lupus is quite enough and I don't need any cancers as well, but bowel cancer is very common among Australians. (That probably says we eat too much junk food and too little fibre.)
My test pack arrived today.
Clearly, it's not the most dignified of things to do. On the other hand, if it catches bowel cancer early, it might saves some of the very many indignities of bowel cancer treatment. And all it will cost me is a bit of time, and a bit of politics, er, I mean, poo.