Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Oncologist explained that cancer is made up of cells that have found a way to cheat death. Usually our cells grow, they multiply, then the old ones die. When they cheat death they all grow: current cells, posteriorly grown, etc. Pretty soon everything gets crowded and a cancer cell decides to "move out" by going down the blood stream. The Lymphatic system is the body's filter system for disease. However cancer cells -- not playing by the rules -- decide they're gonna use the closest Lymph Node as a new home and start multiplying there. When this happens it's most generally Stage 2 cancer because it's not localized to the point of origin anymore.

Although, staging cancer is not that simple. There are 3 types of tells that Oncologists look to, and those are: Tumor, Nodes and Metastasis. Then if the cancer is Seminoma or Non-Seminoma. I have Non-Seminoma.

In my blood test they explained that most of my tumor markers were pretty normal except one which was the one that i mentioned earlier that is 2222 instead of the normal <.07 mark. They also found out my Calcium was low, I guess i should drink more milk, ey?

They examined my stomach CT Scan and they found a small Node on the bottom of my lung area. So tomorrow i am getting another CT Scan to determine if the cancer has spread to my chest at all. As it is right now the staging is not complete, so when the Doctor told me that I had Stage 3 cancer yesterday it was pretty much a best guess. The oncologist said, "all the facts aren't in, but i would say you have stage 2." which means roughly 3 chemo treatments. Each Chemo treatment would go on (I think) everyday for a month, stopping short of the last week of that month to give me a break. It is either that or it's a week on and a week off, she wasn't really clear about it. Then as soon as I start feeling better, after being off it for a week, it'll start all over again. That is considered one treatment. So this will roughly go on for 3 months if i am receiving it well. If not they'll give me another treatment.

One of the other things that is up in the air is a Retroperitoneal Lymph Node Dissection (RPLND). This is a lot of big words meaning my Lymph Nodes are swollen in my abdomen, and they don't know why, so they're gonna remove my abdominal Lymph Nodes to find out more information about the cancer. This is a procedure they'll put me under for and at the same time I'm under they'll put my port in. The reason they're up in the air about it is because the Oncologist i went to today wants to do it before chemo, but she said to see what the doctor at UCH says. This leads me to believe that it must not be a sure thing.

All I know is I am just barely able to stand up on my own without pain, sneeze, cough and feel normal without pain in my incision. Then they're gonna give me two more incisions in my abdomen! Hah, oh well, it's for a good reason. She told me that i'll need to let myself feel lazy in these upcoming months. So i guess i'll have to give into the idea.

Before I left I had blood drawn so they could check my tumor markers and other things Post-Op. I have a CT Scan tomorrow; UCH monday; something Wednesday and a follow-up in 3 weeks. Having cancer sure requires a lot of time, I don't know how those people do it who work while going through Chemo!

So Far...

Thursday, September 9^th 2010. I was having some pain in my groin so I went to my Primary Care Physician. He examined me and told me there was something irregular going on. He ordered an ultrasound for me.

Tuesday, September 14^th was when I went in and began the ultrasound examination. The monitors showed something strange on my right testicle. It looked like tight dark scribbles. I never wanted to believe that it could have been anything worse than an infection, because I felt perfectly healthy. The technician told me that they would get back to me between 3-5 days.

Wednesday, September 15^th I get a call in the morning from the Ultrasound Analyst saying that he found something abnormal in my ultrasound and I needed to schedule an appointment right away. Only seconds after that call ended I got a call from the Urologist's office-scheduling department. They wanted me to come in that afternoon, but I couldn’t so I set the time for the next day.

Thursday, September 16^th after filling out paperwork, they had me take a U.A. (Urine Analysis) then wait in a room with my wife. The doctor came in, had me drop my pants and he examined me. Only moments after – probably no more than a minute – he sat back down and said I could pull my pants back up. That was when he told me I had Testicular Cancer. He wanted to get me into surgery right away, only I don’t have medical insurance. I asked him if we could wait a month for me to get insurance and he vehemently shook his head “no.” He explained that this cancer was highly treatable (a 98% success rate), but that it spreads quickly, if not treated. The sooner we operate, the better. He set the surgery date for Tuesday, September 21^st at 1 o’clock.

It all happened so fast, but all I saw were dollar signs and debt. I had NO idea how I was going to afford this. I had a job but had only been working there for 2 weeks. It was a sales job, so you only get paid for presentations and sales. I hadn’t done any of those yet. The big day to put to practice what we learned was going to be Saturday. When the doctor said I couldn’t do any heavy lifting for a month I knew I would have to quit my job. So at that point he left. There we were sitting in his office waiting for his nurse to come in with consent forms, knowing we had no cell service. I started to get antsy. First, I wanted to sever the obligation to the company I was working for, since they invest 3,000 dollars in every trainee. Then I would tell family.

The nurse came back in and told us I would have to get a blood test before we left. We signed the consent forms and were on our way. It seemed surreal.

We got to the Lab and a really nice nurse took us back. We got to talking and explained our situation about how we tried to apply for insurance when we first got married a year ago but because I have a preexisting condition of ADHD and my wife had panic attacks less than 5 years ago, no insurance company would insure us, even though we were perfectly healthy. The nurse could sympathize. She has a 21 year old, special needs daughter who hasn’t had surgery for 16 years and no one will insure her. She was very helpful and told us about all the different programs. One of which was CICP (Colorado Indigent Care Program) that operates out of Poudre Valley Hospital in Fort Collins, the one where the operation would take place.

Friday, September 17^th at 10:15, I had an appointment for a CT or CAT Scan of my pelvis and chest. We went and did that and then headed down to the Financial Aid Department of the Hospital. After we proved we were Colorado residents they gave us a purple card. This meant that every procedure would be 15-20 dollars. All we would have to do is pay Doctor’s fees. This was a major relief for me. In fact we paid for the surgery right there: fifteen dollars!

After that we went in to go and do my Pre-Op consultation. I learned that the surgery would take an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes. I would have to have a responsible adult with me 24 hours after the surgery.

That night the In-Laws, siblings-in-law, my parents and one of my brothers went out to dinner. At dinner the suggestion was made that we go to a church meeting on Saturday where another cancer survivor was speaking.

Saturday, September 18^th we went to the church meeting and listened to the speakers. I found a lot of strength in the speakers. However, up until this point I had tried to stay very positive about my lot. The way this survivor spoke though, added a component of fear and doubt that I wasn’t comfortable with. I felt like the more people that knew about my condition (outside my circle of influence) the more fearful reactions I received.

I want to be positive and optimistic about what is to come. After the talk the cancer survivor gave, he came up to me. We shook hands and I thanked him for his words. He stuttered and stopped, showing pity for me, by saying, [he] can’t even begin to express how sorry [he] is for me. I didn’t like that.

As we were leaving in the car I told my wife that I tend to be influenced heavily by multiple opinions. So when a person who has survived cancer expresses fear, sorrow and pity for me, it tends to rub off. I want to stay positive, but I can’t do that when people talk to me like they have no hope for my predicament or their first reaction to me is deep remorse. It starts to affect me negatively little, by little. Maybe I am just too casual about things, because I surrender control to things that are out of my control. I don’t like to waste my time wishing I hadn’t been cast this lot, because it doesn’t do anybody any good. I don’t want to spend time daydreaming about what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten cancer.

I will need the strength to fight and sorrow sucks that strength right out of you. I had been having pain in my groin for about a month before I went into the Doctor. About 5 days before I went in to see the Doctor I committed to myself that I would do anything reasonably necessary to get rid of whatever it was that was causing me grief. When I found out I had cancer I was already at peace with any solution.

So no, I don’t feel sad that I have this. It has brought my family together. In a way, I feel like a tool for God, a catalyst for bringing a scattered family closer together. That may sound weird, but I believe it. I have no genetic predisposition to cancer. There is only one instance and a relative of mine had prostate cancer. I don’t think this was random.

I don’t regret getting it. I’m not afraid. The cancer survivor spoke about hope, yet showed fear when approaching me about having cancer. I don’t think cancer is something we should fear. We should definitely be educated and have a healthy respect for it, but we shouldn’t fear something we have to fight. We should embrace the inevitability of a fight, and if the fight doesn’t come, the victor goes to the hopeful.

Sunday, September 19^th a website is under-construction by Nathan Chaney of Illinois. The site will be where people can go to get the whole story about what’s happening, get information and donate what they can to help out with the Doctor’s fees that I’ll have to pay out of pocket. My mom pushed for the idea and thought I should go for it, so I asked a talented Web Designer out of the Saint Louis area to make it happen. He is gladly donating his time for the cause.