Let’s just consider the last few months a mid-season
break. For the record I think
mid-season finales are bull and should be done away with forever. West Wing, one of the greatest shows of
all time, put out 22 amazing one-hour episodes per season without any BS mid season
finale, at least during the Sorkin years. I tried the later stuff, but I had to stop watching after the
episode in which Charlie convinced Bartlett to support school vouchers with an
inaccurate two-sentence argument. Nice character consistency. Ridiculous.
There are a number of topics I would like to discuss, including why I took that break, but I
think I’ll use this post to fill you in on my treatment progress, since that is
what this blog was supposed to be for anyway.
When we last spoke I was coming out of a painful breakup
with a particularly unpleasant symptom of my chemotherapy. Unfortunately, it was a short-lived
separation. It turns out that
amateur ninjas were still living in my stomach.
I’ve learned a few things I did not know about doctors
before all of this:
1. When you have a lot of doctors and a mysterious side
effect, they tend to blame each other, or you.
My oncologist said the stomach problem was not due to
chemotherapy, and if it was related, I probably had a preexisting intestinal
issue that was just aggravated by chemo.
She referred me to a very funny gastroenterologist. I think you’ve got to have a sense of
humor if you’re doing that job.
He explained that my problem was likely caused by my habit of
ingesting a bunch of poison every two weeks. Turns out that’s rough on the tum tum. Long story short (too late) I had to
live with it for the rest of my treatment, plus a few weeks. With dietary
changes and medication, it was manageable. Now I can eat whatever I want and gain plenty of weight.
2. When they don’t do something that you think they should
be doing, they make an argument involving quality of life. For example…
By the end of February I was finished with my treatment. So I
guess I’m in the clear. Here is
the thing about cancer, you and everyone you know, even people you don’t know,
are far more concerned about reoccurrence than your doctor. Okay, that’s just based on anecdotal
evidence, but it’s pretty compelling anecdotal evidence.
During my exit interview or whatever they call it, I asked when
we would be doing the scan.
“There isn’t one.”
“How do we know if the cancer is gone?”
“You had surgery and they removed the tumor, then you had
chemo, so there shouldn’t be anymore
cancer.”
In my opinion there shouldn’t
have been any cancer in the first place.
So let’s not work with shouldn’t.
“How do we know if it comes back, won’t there be regular
scans?”
“We don’t do those any more…it’s a quality of life issue.
You see, we used to have patients checked every three months for the first two
years, but we stopped doing that.
The stress from the periodic testing was affecting their quality of
life.”
“So how do we know if it comes back?”
“If symptoms return.”
“But I didn’t have any symptoms the first time.”
“Well you know to look out for them now.”
Are you fricking kidding me?
You know what makes me stressed and affects my quality of
life? Wondering if cancer is growing inside of me. Also, I’m pretty sure if I’m noticing symptoms it’s a bit
late in the game.
I got a bit off track on the whole update on the progress of
my treatment thing, didn't I?
After chemo we waited for my immune system to heal and then
I had another reconstructive surgery.
There were/are a few complications with my healing process, but nothing
serious. My hair is coming in nicely. If you see me, yes, you are allowed to touch it. If all goes according to
plan, I should have my final surgery in about 3-4 months. We all know how often things go to plan
with my family, so I'll keep you posted about surgery. After that all that's left are the tattoos. What? Tattoos? You'll have to tune in to find out.
Join us next post when we’ll discuss item #3, When doctors
say “I dunno”