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Diagnosis and perspective shifts
a week ago
General
I'll be honest, the past two years have been rough. My father died just a few days before I turned 43. He was 84. Meaning: I am properly middle aged. I got a message from a hair salon that my mother had been wandering in their parking lot outside of their operating hours, and I was the only person they could find with the same last name. They feared for her safety. A few months later she was diagnosed with dementia. She's still alive, but is not the same person I remember.
Last year I was diagnosed diverticulitis. I took antibiotics for it, which worked fantastically, but the sharp pain in my gut sometimes came back. I got a colonoscopy, and the doctor found a tumor. I was diagnosed with late stage III colorectal cancer. It was trying to spread, but only got to a few lymph nodes. The tumor was about the size of half a baseball. I had surgery to remove my sigmoid colon and the lymph nodes, and then went through chemotherapy, during which I actually gained weight. The surgery was a total success, and the chemo was just to make sure not a single cell remained. I did not lose my hair. I barely even had nausea. I kicked cancer's ass. But it was because I would not tolerate persistent pain. Trying to shrug it off probably would've have been a death sentence. My fingertips and feet are numb because of neuropathy from the chemo, and I'm tired all the time. One day I pissed blood and wound up going to the emergency room to see if I was dying. Turns out it was probably just a clot or kidney stone. I had a camera go in my urethra to check out my bladder just to be sure. That was exactly as fun as you think it is. Earlier this year I was laid off, the entire team was cut, as was my boss, and my boss's boss. It's been a battle, and I would often turn to booze to increase the numbness. Not a smart move.
But I persist, because to hell if I'm gonna give up. The cancer diagnosis came at the right time, oddly. It made me realize what's truly important: People. Friends. Family. Lovers. Strangers. Ourselves.
So I'm going to try to be better -- stop drinking so much and make a better environment for myself. That way I'll be more equipped for this strange journey we're on. One day at a time. One foot at a time.
Be kind to others, and for goodness' sake be kind to yourselves. Much love to you all.
Last year I was diagnosed diverticulitis. I took antibiotics for it, which worked fantastically, but the sharp pain in my gut sometimes came back. I got a colonoscopy, and the doctor found a tumor. I was diagnosed with late stage III colorectal cancer. It was trying to spread, but only got to a few lymph nodes. The tumor was about the size of half a baseball. I had surgery to remove my sigmoid colon and the lymph nodes, and then went through chemotherapy, during which I actually gained weight. The surgery was a total success, and the chemo was just to make sure not a single cell remained. I did not lose my hair. I barely even had nausea. I kicked cancer's ass. But it was because I would not tolerate persistent pain. Trying to shrug it off probably would've have been a death sentence. My fingertips and feet are numb because of neuropathy from the chemo, and I'm tired all the time. One day I pissed blood and wound up going to the emergency room to see if I was dying. Turns out it was probably just a clot or kidney stone. I had a camera go in my urethra to check out my bladder just to be sure. That was exactly as fun as you think it is. Earlier this year I was laid off, the entire team was cut, as was my boss, and my boss's boss. It's been a battle, and I would often turn to booze to increase the numbness. Not a smart move.
But I persist, because to hell if I'm gonna give up. The cancer diagnosis came at the right time, oddly. It made me realize what's truly important: People. Friends. Family. Lovers. Strangers. Ourselves.
So I'm going to try to be better -- stop drinking so much and make a better environment for myself. That way I'll be more equipped for this strange journey we're on. One day at a time. One foot at a time.
Be kind to others, and for goodness' sake be kind to yourselves. Much love to you all.
