Cancer seems to be attracted to me. Breast cancer first bit me, well in the breast, in late 2012. It was HER2, which 20 years ago was a killer cancer, but now with Herceptin, is one of the most curable breast cancers there is. Nonetheless, I underwent a partial mastectomy, chemotherapy with the aptly named Red Devil (Adriamycin), Taxol, and a year of Herceptin. Oh, did I forget the 33 doses of radiation?
I was nearing the magical 5 year mark when in mid-April of 2017 my intestines said "Nope, we've got some business here." I had been constipated for a couple of weeks but was trying to get to the end of the semester. Did I mention I teach at a community college? No? Well I do. I rarely miss classes and a little stuck poop wasn't going to wreck that record. So I ended up in the emergency room of the local hospital and that night was told "Bad news, it's cancer." Great, just great. But that wasn't the end of the fun, oh no, folks things just kept getting better and better.
Had surgery to take out the nasty little fellow (thanks Dr. Sullivan!) and was fitted with a colostomy bag that I not so affectionately named Trumpy. For obvious reasons. Let me tell you, a colostomy bag is every bit as awful as you think it is. Took forever to find a system that worked (thanks Alyssa!) and when it did, it invariably leaked at the worst moments. The only good thing was this was over the summer when I don't work.
Finally, on July 21 I had the little fellow removed and my innards re-connected (thanks again Dr. Sullivan!). So all is going swimmingly well, right? My 26 lymph nodes were clear, the tumor hadn't penetrated the colon wall; I was stage one and clear sailing into infinity!
Yeah, right. No. In late August, right in time for the fall semester, I was hospitalized with an infection. They say it was an upper respiratory infection but honestly I don't think they had any idea what it was. In the course of trying to figure out why my breathing was so fast and I was so fatigued, they took a chest X-Ray and Boom, there it was. A spot on my lung. Not the cause of the infection, but still, a worry. Six days later and more vancomycin than I ever want to have again, I was released. Sept. 15 I had a biopsy, that resulted in a pneumothorax. For those unitiated into the medical terms that I have now become accustomed to, that's a collapsed lung. So I was hospitalized for another two days while that healed. Have I mentioned that little black cloud that follows me around?
It started to pour thunderclouds. I had three options my oncologist, hereafter referred to as Mike because he's been a family friend for years before my insurance payments made him a rich man, told me. Number one was a primary lung cancer - despite my having quit smoking in 1980 on the day Ronald Reagan was elected president. Number two was mets from the colon cancer. Number three was mets from breast cancer. That is in the order of good to bad. My husband Jim and I met with Mike Sept. 20 to hear the news. I may be the only stage four colon cancer patient to greet the news with "Thank God (whom I don't believe in by the way). I'm so happy to hear that."
Because, you see, colon cancer is curable. Breast cancer mets is not. And so my stage four colon cancer journey begins.
I was nearing the magical 5 year mark when in mid-April of 2017 my intestines said "Nope, we've got some business here." I had been constipated for a couple of weeks but was trying to get to the end of the semester. Did I mention I teach at a community college? No? Well I do. I rarely miss classes and a little stuck poop wasn't going to wreck that record. So I ended up in the emergency room of the local hospital and that night was told "Bad news, it's cancer." Great, just great. But that wasn't the end of the fun, oh no, folks things just kept getting better and better.
Had surgery to take out the nasty little fellow (thanks Dr. Sullivan!) and was fitted with a colostomy bag that I not so affectionately named Trumpy. For obvious reasons. Let me tell you, a colostomy bag is every bit as awful as you think it is. Took forever to find a system that worked (thanks Alyssa!) and when it did, it invariably leaked at the worst moments. The only good thing was this was over the summer when I don't work.
Finally, on July 21 I had the little fellow removed and my innards re-connected (thanks again Dr. Sullivan!). So all is going swimmingly well, right? My 26 lymph nodes were clear, the tumor hadn't penetrated the colon wall; I was stage one and clear sailing into infinity!
Yeah, right. No. In late August, right in time for the fall semester, I was hospitalized with an infection. They say it was an upper respiratory infection but honestly I don't think they had any idea what it was. In the course of trying to figure out why my breathing was so fast and I was so fatigued, they took a chest X-Ray and Boom, there it was. A spot on my lung. Not the cause of the infection, but still, a worry. Six days later and more vancomycin than I ever want to have again, I was released. Sept. 15 I had a biopsy, that resulted in a pneumothorax. For those unitiated into the medical terms that I have now become accustomed to, that's a collapsed lung. So I was hospitalized for another two days while that healed. Have I mentioned that little black cloud that follows me around?
It started to pour thunderclouds. I had three options my oncologist, hereafter referred to as Mike because he's been a family friend for years before my insurance payments made him a rich man, told me. Number one was a primary lung cancer - despite my having quit smoking in 1980 on the day Ronald Reagan was elected president. Number two was mets from the colon cancer. Number three was mets from breast cancer. That is in the order of good to bad. My husband Jim and I met with Mike Sept. 20 to hear the news. I may be the only stage four colon cancer patient to greet the news with "Thank God (whom I don't believe in by the way). I'm so happy to hear that."
Because, you see, colon cancer is curable. Breast cancer mets is not. And so my stage four colon cancer journey begins.
Comments
Post a Comment