Yesterday I met with the surgeon who will ultimately remove the cancer from my butt. The office was pretty great because they were really leaning into the fact that they were butt doctors with the decor. Prime example is this delightful lamp with a golden backside. They were running behind and originally I was being “worked in” at 16:30 but did not leave the office until 18:30. My dad was going with me as moral support and he was running early… so we got to the doctors office around 3pm and largely waited around for our turn. I have to admit I was nervous as hell about yesterday, because from the moment I learned about this foreign invader in my rectum… I wanted it out. It turns out things are maybe not that simple, and I am still processing the news that I received.
Ultimately the next step is that today they will be scheduling an MRI which will allow them to stage the cancer. What stage it is in will determine what the path going forward is. When I met with the doctor after my colonoscopy he seemed to indicate that it looked like we caught it early enough and that it would likely be surgery without the need for chemotherapy or radiation. Yesterday I learned that is probably not going to be the case. There is still a golden path however where that might be the case, and that all banks on how the MRI looks. In that golden path it would be straight to surgery and then several weeks of recovery, and a travel restriction of not leaving the state, because I will be under risk of something rupturing for the first few months. That honestly fucking hurt more than anything else because it means that my planned trip down to see “Erasure” is off the table. I was warned by the doctor that this is probably going to be a year long ordeal at a minimum.
If the golden path is off the table, then I will be rushed in to get a port put in my shoulder and will begin chemotherapy and radiation treatment with a new as yet to be named oncologist. The most modern studies apparently show that the best case of complete remission is to hit it with chemotherapy now, rather than later. Then after a course of chemotherapy and radiation, the surgery would take place. The monkey wrench this time however is that instead of a quick in and out surgery, I would be on a temporary bag for two to three months while things heal. Then there would be another surgery to reconnect everything and remove the bag. It was around this point where I started freaking out nice and proper. They would be removing a large chunk of my rectum and colon and then when reconnecting things up, in either scenario there would be some weird circumstances for me long term, but nothing unmanageable. I will just always need access to a friendly bathroom.
If things were not freak out inducing enough… the doctor starts going into all of the possible complications. Since they are working in an area where a lot of other things are. I could wind up incontinent if they nick anything to do with the kidneys, or could end up various flavors of erectile dysfunction depending on what they damaged. There is also the possibility of a rupture which means that we would be on a clock to catch that fast enough before I went septic and potentially died. Then there is the whole doomsday scenario of if they did not catch this in time, and it spreads to the lungs or liver… at which point it is probably game over for me as a human being. I get that the first doctor that did my colonoscopy was probably just trying to keep me calm and from freaking out on him… but I was really not fully prepared for the results of yesterday.
More than that I was not really prepared to have a speculum up my ass. For the ladies out there, they did in fact insert it ice fucking cold… so that is unfortunately not just a gynecology thing. Yesterday was a lot. Today is also going to be a lot because I was already scheduled for a cardiology appointment where they do an ultrasound. It is also at this point that the dark thoughts that I have struggled with my entire life start to creep in. Am I really worth saving? Should I just give up and accept my fate and try and eek out as much joy as I can in the meantime? Really out of everything that has happened the thing that I worry about the most is the damage it will end up doing to the fledgling relationship that I am trying to build with “Erasure”. We were friends before, and we will always be at least that… but I wanted more.
Basically I am very scared and not really sure how to deal with those emotions because I am not always great at that. Everything would be so much easier were I not alone. I have people that I can lean on, but I hate asking them for anything… and I also hate tolerating other human beings in my space. Its a catch 22… I need people but I also have to psyche myself up… to be able to accept them. I am lucky in that I have plenty of folks who are willing to help, I just have to start availing myself of them. For the moment I am focusing entirely on getting through the MRI which will hopefully be either at the tail end of this week or beginning of the next week. Nothing can be known until that is done, and from there I figure out how to cope with whatever path we end up going down.
So sorry to hear this, BUT that being said, I’m glad you were able to catch it and treat it promptly!!! Note to self – don’t skip the colonoscopies, as much as I hate having one. Yikes!
Being scared is natural – I would be, too! When I went in for surgery last year, they dumped all the worst cases on me, too. I do believe that’s standard procedure, but it doesn’t feel all that great to be on the other end.
I think those around you who love and support you WANT you to reach out to them as much as you need to. People are put into our lives to help one another. In a situation such as this, let them do as much as they can. I’m sure they all just want to see you healthy, as do we!
Please stay strong. I’m sending you all the healing vibes.
I’m sorry that the news was scarier than you anticipated. It’s okay to be scared and sad. You absolutely are worth saving, and I think all of your friends both online and IRL would agree. I’ve never been through this myself so no specific advice, but know we are all rooting for you
As Seraphgrim above says, cancer is a marathon. It is also a totally evil motherf$&ker.
I will share a bit of a story that may or may not help. My wife has stage 4 breast cancer. That means remission is impossible, and the disease is ‘terminal’. They hit the bone involvement with precision radiation, the cancer in general with chemotherapy, and the breast lesions with monoclonal anti-bodies (MAB).
Three months later the surgeon said mastectomy was no longer viable. This scared the hell out of us, so we brought in our oncologist. Cancer treatment in Canada at least involves many, and you are assigned a lead oncologist to explain and coordinate across all the various even-more-specialized specialists.
She explained: the cancer lesions in the breast had shrunk too much for surgery to be ‘safe’. Cutting around a cancer nodule can cause it to spread if the work is just slightly off, and the risk just wasn’t worth it for the size of the lesion.
As for the other ‘stages’: the bone lesions were completely invisible now. Effectively her CT scans were as clean as a normal person’s. And the lymph node involvement was similarly invisible.
We are two years in now, and every day is worth it. Yes it is scary: every three months there is a full body CT scan with contrast, and now they’ve added a radiograph to look at the bone structure and density more carefully. All clean so far.
Full remission is often just not in the cards. But a full life often is. Give yourself some space for either outcome. I will hope you get the ‘full remission’ cards in your hand.
Cancer is a marathon, and it’s one you never got an opportunity to train for. If they did catch this early, the amount of prophylactic treatment they can offer post-surgery to try and make sure it never comes back is kind of impressive. While everyone has some negative impacts from chemotherapy, the intensity and type really do vary, so keep in mind the “worst case” is exactly that.
I’m sorry you’ve got to deal with this, especially so soon after losing your wife. I can’t tell you that it will be okay, but I can tell you that you’re worth saving. It’s a battle worth fighting.
Darn. Here’s to you sir. I know that you can receive waves of healing over cat5. Take mine!
We’re all pulling for you, boss. You can and will beat this thing.
You can do this. I’m rooting for you.
I will just say that they do always tell you the absolute worst scenarios, presumably because they’re obligated to. It’s a bit harder to get anyone to tell you the most likely scenario because obviously they don’t want to seem like they’re promising anything. It is hard not to freak out about some of the possibilities but the earlier it is, the less accurate anything you hear has to be. It should get clearer over time and clarity does help in coming to terms with what might be about to happen.
Good luck anyway!
Just quietly cheering you on from the sidelines.