Don't Call it a Comeback

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”