April 20th is a day that will stick in my mind
forever. I sat in my family physician’s
exam room looking into his eyes as he said these words “Well, it’s not good.” In my heart of hearts, I was expecting the
news that he was about to give me.
About three months before, I’d noticed something
different. My wife’s dear mother passed
away from cancer and since then, I had been harassing her on a monthly basis
about self-exams. At one point, she must
have gotten frustrated with my regularly scheduled public service announcements
and she turned the tables on me by asking “Have you been doing self-exams? They’re not just for women, you know.” I decided she was right. If it was good for the goose, it was good for
the gander. So I started doing self
exams.
And then came the day I found something different. A lump, a nodule-however you want to describe
it, on my testicle. So I looked it up on
WebMD or some such site and looked for the next step—keep an eye on it. So I did.
I kept up the regular self-exams, you know, keeping an eye
on it. Then the other symptoms started
showing up—tenderness, swelling, and pain.
After what I can only describe as pain that was downright scary, I called and
schedule an appointment with my family physician. This all occurred on a Friday morning. I didn't say anything to Laura because I didn't
want her to freak out all weekend.
That lasted until Sunday afternoon when she asked me what
had been bothering me all weekend. We
sat down and I told her that I was seeing the doctor Monday morning because I had found something. My dear wife thanked me for being responsible
for my health.
Monday morning (April 20th) found me in my
morning devotions, looking for something from the Word to help me in my
day. I found some scripture that gave me
peace in my heart. I was feeling better
so I thought about cancelling my appointment.
A gentle nudging in my soul told me to keep my appointment. I left for work with peace in my heart.
Fast forward to a little bit after 11:00 that morning and
the doctor is staring in my eyes saying “I’m sorry, but I’m very sure it’s
cancer.” I found myself comforting the
doctor telling him it would be okay. I
had peace. That afternoon, I went back to his office for an ultrasound. The ultrasound technician was very professional, but as he did the ultrasound, I got a glimpse of what I have come to call "the look."
I went back to work, picked up my laptop and some stuff that
I needed to work on, and told my boss that I wasn't sure what the next few days
would bring. He gave me some sage advice
“Take care of you, do what you need to do to get in a good place health wise.”
After that, I had to go home and tell my wife. And my kids!
What would we tell them? My wife
became a tower of strength. She took the
news like I was telling her the car was broken down. If I remember correctly, her statement was “Well,
we’ll just have to get it taken care of.”
I cried in her arms for a few minutes.
She has been my rock the last two weeks. We
waited until we saw the urologist again to say anything to the boys, but she
handled that like a champ as well.
The next morning, a visit to the urologist, and a bunch of
tests confirmed that it was indeed cancer, at least as sure as we could be
without pathology. The doctor was very
sure that it was cancer, so we decided together on surgery.
My doctor, my wife, and I made this decision
together after much prayer. I wasn't
forced into a decision; I was given the information and made an informed
choice.
On Friday, April 24th, I had an inguinal
orchiectomy. My right testicle was
removed and sent off for pathology. That
day is pretty much a fog, but I do remember specific things. My pastor praying with me before surgery. Me telling a good friend to check himself in
some colorful language (sorry Daniel), me telling my nephews to check
themselves, me telling my anesthetist that she needed to tell her husband to
check himself.
And then I remember
waking up in Phase 1 recovery looking at a nurse who was telling me it was
okay. Then my
doctor appeared and said the surgery went well. The next thing I remember is careening through the hospital hallways at
a high rate of speed driven by someone trying out for NASCAR as I was taken to
Phase 2 recovery. (I’m sure we weren't
going that fast, but it sure seemed like it though.)
The next two days were spent in bed with gradual
improvement. Today, I’m a week out of
surgery. My recovery is going ok. I still have pain and periods of weakness. Thanks
to a lot of good friends, my great family, my church and many others, I've had
a tremendous support structure to rely on, and that has been wonderful.
The next steps are somewhat unsure. I have a follow up appointment on Monday, May
4 with my urologist. At that time we
will get the pathology reports and the next steps of treatment if
necessary. You may not know, but testicular cancer comes
in four varieties and each variety has a different course of treatment. After that, I’ll have to see an endocrinologist
and perhaps an oncologist, depending on the type of cancer.
So, yeah, April 20th
will stick in my mind for years to come.
It will be the day that my doctor gave me what could be considered the
worst news of my life, but it is also the day that my doctor gave me what could
be considered the best news of my life.
Right after he told me it was cancer, the doc said this: “Your wife probably saved your life. Go home, give her a hug and tell her that.”
Self-exams save lives.
Regular monthly exams can alert you to changes that you need to be aware
of. I’ve decided a few things in this
fight against cancer. First, I’m not a
cancer victim. I’m going to own this
cancer. I’m going to win this fight
against cancer, and I am not a victim, I’m a victor.
Second, I'm going to be an advocate for self-exams. Own your health. Be responsible. Don’t let cancer make you a victim; don’t let
cancer take your life.
If you would like more information about testicular cancer
please visit one of these websites:
Or
For information on self-exams go here:
If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to
me. If you ready for an honest conversation
about testicular cancer, reach out via Facebook, Twitter, or through
this blog. Self-exams, they’re not just
for women, you know.
No comments:
Post a Comment