In my opinion, there are a few three word phrases in the English language that can change your life... "I love you", "You're fired", "You're hired" (OK... they are two words, but because "you're" is a contraction, I'm gonna count them), and "You have cancer". The impact that the last of those phrases had on my life was immeasurable.
April 17, 2021 is a day I will never forget. After moving to New Hampshire from Vermont the previous June, taking a new job, and dealing with the pandemic, I underwent my first colonoscopy at 52 years old and was delivered the news that would change my life forever.
What I write here is simply my experience. Everyone has their own with this deeply personal journey, but there are some generalizations that are shared by everyone with this terrible disease... a loss of control of their life, emotional and physical challenges, spiritual challenges, and for many, financial challenges. I write this in hopes that my experience can help someone else through this horrible disease.
My first colonoscopy was originally scheduled for June, 2021 but my primary care physician saw some things in my blood work he didn't like and moved that date up... to the Monday of the following week. I am glad he did. I credit him with likely saving my life, but at the very least, he gave me the chance to have a modicum of control over what would become the greatest challenge of my life.
As the doctor went through the pictures taken during the procedure, he showed my wife and I a very large mass in my descending colon that was nearly 100% blocking it. He referred me to a surgeon immediately, and we met with him several days later. He advised immediate surgery to remove the mass... it would entail a traditional incision, removal of much of my colon, and would result in me having a colostomy. He also recommended that I start a very low fiber diet to avoid any potential blockage in my colon. That's a lot to think about for someone who just learned that they have cancer! My wife and I discussed the surgeon's recommendation at length and decided that we would get a second opinion and consult with an oncologist before making any decisions. I am so glad we did that!
Over the next several weeks, I had three CT scans, and met with surgeons and oncologists from both Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, and Leahy Hospital in Burlington, MA; ultimately choosing to have my care provided at Leahy Hospital, which turned out to be one of the best decisions we have ever made (no knock against Dana Farber, it simply was a better fit for me). It was during this time that I learned how serious my situation actually was. The scans had shown that the cancer had metastasized (or moved) and invaded my liver and both lungs. I was now diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer... not a diagnosis that someone generally recovers from. Typically, this is considered a terminal diagnosis. Knowing the extent of what we were dealing with, both teams of physicians strongly recommended that I NOT have surgery right away, but start a regimen of chemotherapy to gain control of the disease. As my (now) oncologist said to me at that time, "It's not your colon that will kill you. It's your liver.". So, in early May, I had what is known as a port implanted in my chest... it is essentially a small device that site under my skin and allows me to be hooked up to an infusion pump, and distributes the medication to my body much more efficiently than a standard IV. Ten days later, I had my first chemo treatment. That's when everything changed.
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