Swallowing the Problem: NHS’s Sponge-on-a-String Revolution
When chronic heartburn meets high-street innovation, you get a sponge on a string in Boots. It’s clever, slightly terrifying, and proof that your pharmacist now needs a PhD and barbecue tongs.
A few weeks ago, I was in Boots buying some 35mm film of all things, when a woman next to me loudly asked the pharmacist for “those chalky tablets for heartburn.” As she shuffled off clutching her Gaviscon like it was Chanel No. 5, the pharmacist gave me that weary look that only someone who’s dispensed indigestion relief more times than they’ve blinked can give.
Turns out, she might now be offered a cancer test in that very same aisle; somewhere between the Lemsip and the half-price toenail clippers. Yes, the NHS in its latest brainstorm, is now rolling out a pilot scheme where people with chronic heartburn can pop into their high-street pharmacy and swallow something called a “sponge on a string” to help detect oesophageal cancer.
I know what you’re thinking, finally my columns are making waves at NHS HQ. Wes Streeting has clearly been binge-reading Daily Dose of Disbelief in between photo ops. Of course I’m being sarcastic. The kind that burns almost as much as the reflux we’re talking about.
This so-called sponge test is brilliantly simple. You swallow a capsule attached to a piece of string. It dissolves and turns into a sponge in your stomach. Then a few minutes later, it’s pulled back up your oesophagus collecting precious samples as it travels; like a reverse Deliveroo picking up biopsy bits on the way home. It’s elegant. It’s quick, clever and if you’re the unlucky sort who gags at the texture of a custard cream; the idea of yanking a soggy sponge back up your gullet in the middle of Boots is ever so slightly horrifying.
Still, I applaud the idea. Anything that helps us catch cancer earlier is a step in the right direction. Especially when you consider that 80% of oesophageal cancers are diagnosed so late you’ve barely got time to cancel your Netflix subscription, let alone start treatment.
This new test will initially be offered in pharmacies across London and the East Midlands. Which is great news unless you’re from anywhere else. But that’s fine, because the NHS has always treated access like a pub quiz; you get more points the closer you live to a postcode beginning with “W”.
The test aims to spot Barrett’s oesophagus, which sounds like an Etonian MP but is actually a pre-cancerous condition caused by acid reflux. If caught early, it can be monitored or even treated. If left undiagnosed, it can become as deadly as your aunt’s Christmas sherry trifle… layered, underestimated and capable of killing quietly.
Now I know what you’re thinking, this is brilliant. Progress. Innovation. But hang on. Why has it taken this long?
We’ve known for years that persistent heartburn can be a warning sign. Yet most people fob it off with Rennies and a shrug. If your car made a weird grinding noise every time you started it, you wouldn’t keep popping in more fuel and hoping for the best. But when your body throws up the biological equivalent of a fire alarm, many of us just reach for a banana and hope it goes away.
The NHS now wants pharmacists to play cancer detective. Which is fine, except they’re already juggling prescriptions, COVID jabs, and people demanding “those red pills I had once in 2003”. Pharmacists deserve medals, not more jobs shoved onto their counters like a collapsing Jenga tower of public health.
Yet for all my mischief, I do think this could save lives. More awareness, more access, more early detection. It’s a move in the right direction, assuming the poor pharmacist doesn’t also have to fish the sponge out of your throat with barbecue tongs while checking your cholesterol.
So here’s your empowered nudge… if you’ve had heartburn more often than the bin men collect, get it checked. Don’t assume it’s just last night’s curry doing the Macarena in your gullet. If your symptoms stick around like an unwanted party guest, get tested.
Be proactive. Move your body occasionally. Drink less. Chew properly. Cancer isn’t always avoidable, but if you do your bit, modern medicine has a much better chance of doing its bit too.
Because let’s face it, if you’re already in Boots buying indigestion tablets for the third time this week, you might as well swallow the sponge too.
###
Chris Geiger, Author of The Cancer Survivors Club.
Daily Dose of Disbelief!
Bsky: @chrisgeiger.com
Bsky: @thecancersurvivorsclub.com
Bsky: @dailydoseofdisbelief.com
----