The Beginning

At some point in every person's life, there comes an event that either changes that person's perspective, or changes them entirely. For me, that day came on Sept. 16, 2013. That's the day I found out I had colon cancer.

There's something about hearing those words come out of the doctor's mouth that just leaves you stunned. "Not me," you say to yourself. "How can I have cancer?" I know I asked those questions in my head when I found out. I have never smoked, I'm reasonably healthy, and don't drink to excess. So how could this have happened? It took me a couple minutes to puzzle it out and the simple answer is, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I haven't smoked or that I pass my physicals. What matters is that I have it, and the question can't be why do I have it. The most important question immediately becomes, how do I get rid of it.

I am writing a blog about this for a couple of reasons. The first is that it will annoy the heck out of my younger brother Graham. He is a firm believer that no one is so important that other people want to take a minute out of their day and listen to the random thoughts of another person, especially when expressed in blog format. The second reason is that while I don't have any illusions of my own importance, I know that there are a lot of people who care about me and want to be kept up to date on my condition and treatments. This saves me a lot of phone calls and repeating the same information over and over and over.

Please don't get the wrong impression, I don't mind talking to people, but when I first heard this news, I had a hard time telling anyone about it for the simple reason that I felt like it became more and more real as the number of people who knew about it grew. I know that it's not really that way, but for whatever reason, talking about it is hard. With the blog, I can get all the information out there to everyone who needs to know and I don't have to continually talk about it. I hope that no one is offended by my line of reasoning, but for now, that's just the way it's got to be for me.

As far as this blog goes, I am going to be very open and honest about what happens with me, and my opinions on it, so I'm glad that my grandmother is not computer literate because some of the stuff that I've been through is pretty gross. Most of my posts will not be as long as this one, but I got started on this a little late and there's some catching up to do. In the future, I'll try and post as stuff happens so that I won't be cramming two weeks of stuff into one post.

This all started about a month prior to my visit to the doctor. I was having trouble going to the bathroom and was having trouble holding it when I wasn't trying to go. I tried a couple laxatives and they didn't help at all. I started thinking about something a co-worker had told me about a friend of hers who worked at the same place we do. He was diagnosed with colon cancer after exhibiting symptoms that were very similar to what I was experiencing. So I decided I'd better get to the doctor and get checked.

At the appointment, my family doctor was pretty optimistic that there was nothing wrong with me and he'd do a colonoscopy just as a formality.

Let me say this about the colonoscopy. It's not as bad as people make it out to be. Truth is, they knock you out and the only reason you know you've had one is because they tell you you did. The worst part was the prep. Starting two weeks out, they give you a list of things you can't have. It starts out pretty easy. A whole list of anti-inflammatories until you get to a week before. Then, no nuts, popcorn, and a couple things I can't remember. Then, the day before, it gets bad. No food at all, just clear liquid, and broth and you have to take laxatives. A LOT of laxatives. It works though. You are empty when you go in for the procedure.

Add to this that it was a football Sunday, a day of snack foods and it was especially tough. Chicken broth simply does not taste like good snack food.

Anyway, after the colonoscopy, I was trying to ask if they had found anything. Nobody was replying which meant one of two things. Either they did find something and didn't want to tell me, or I was still so loopy from the anisthetic that what sounded to me like "Did he find anything?", sounded to them like "Bleeeaaahhhh." Turns out it was the former. When they wheeled me back up to my room at the hospital, my wife Kelly was there. From the look on her face, I knew. She has been a trooper through all of this so far, but in that moment, her poker face deserted her.

My doctor was very apologetic to my wife, and told her how he had told me that he was sure it was something else and that I probably didn't have anything to worry about. Some people may have been mad about that, but I discovered that I wasn't. His words of encouragement that day helped me get through the next two weeks until the procedure because I was going crazy with wondering. And I'll let you in on a little secret. Even though my doctor told me that he was sure it was something else, I knew in my gut what the deal was. I know that probably sounds a little pessimistic or even a little hokey, but I just knew.

Once we got the news, my doctor got us an appointment at Detroit Henry Ford Hospital on Tuesday, Sept. 24. It was either there or Grand Rapids and we chose Detroit since most of my family lives just minutes off of I-75 at various points from St. Helen to Flint.

I have no regrets about that decision, especially from a people standpoint. Everyone that we dealt with at DHFH was extremely professional.

Before I go any further with this, I need to tell you that this is where the story gets a little gross. Anyone who enjoys laughter at my expense will find this part of the story to be their favorite.

DHFH was really good about understanding that we were coming from a long ways away and scheduled me for three tests while we were there to save us some trips. The first was an MRI of my pelvis. I have a hard time with MRIs, not because I'm claustrophobic or anything, but because I fall asleep during them and sometimes twitch which makes them have to start that portion over. I'm pretty sure that happened at least once.

From there, we went to my newly appointed doctor's office and waited a bit for our actual appointment. Once there, we found out that he had been called into surgery and that we'd have to wait a little while.

To get me prepped for the two other tests they had to do, I found out that I had to have an enema. Two of them actually. This is not fun. Especially when a young nurse has to be the one to give them to you and as you and she head into the bathroom, one of her co-workers laughs and says "Glad I'm not you." I'm assuming this person was speaking to the nurse and not me.

Back to how professional the staff is at DHFH. This girl did her job without flinching, which is more than I can say for myself. I think they must keep those things refrigerated.

After that fun, I had to wait for the doctor some more. When he got there, I had to get in the bed on my left side and bend my right leg over my left one. (This is the same as the colonoscopy position). The first test to be performed was a scopy that I can't remember the name of (I'll include it in a later post when I look up what it was). This is like the short version of the colonoscopy. It doesn't go in as far, which is good. The bad side is, there is no sedation. The other thing that struck me as weird was that, right in front of me, there was a television screen. I was thinking that maybe there was going to be something on TV that might help me take my mind off what was going on. Unfortunately, the only channel that that TV gets is the inside of Scott's colon channel. I had to close my eyes and white-knuckle the bed railing while this was going on.

Finally, the scope is withdrawn and we are on to test No. 2. This is an ultrasound which also involves insertion/violation. Then I heard the words that no man wants to hear. "Just relax, unfortunately, this one is a little bigger than the last one." My ass, which up to this point in my life with the exception of last Tuesday, had been exit only, was now seemingly getting more traffic than the Ventura Highway.

I don't know if I'd say it was painful, but I just don't know if the word "uncomfortable" does it justice. There was a lot of pressure and it seemed like it took forever.

Again, let me stress the level of professionalism by the doctor and his staff. Everyone did their job and was very no-nonsense about it. He was sympathetic to my discomfort, but still made sure he got the information that he needed to get when conducting both tests.

After I was cleaned up and dressed, Kelly met me in the conference room and the doctor was in in just a couple seconds. He was very factual, and while what he said was not exactly what I wanted to hear, he did use the word "treatable."

The cancer had grown through the colon wall in a couple of spots, and the MRI revealed a couple lymph nodes which were bigger than they should have been. That indicates that they might be infected as well. The doctor told us what his plan was. A month of radiation/chemotherapy followed by six weeks of rest/healing. Then the surgery to remove whatever the radiation and chemo have not gotten rid of.

I still have to get a PET scan to make sure that the cancer isn't anywhere else, and I'm hoping that gets scheduled on Thursday when I see the oncologist.

This is a bump in the road for Kelly and I and our family for sure, but it's one that we'll get past. Several people have commented on my optimism regarding this whole deal, but the way I look at it is, the cancer's going to be there whether I like it or not. And while I may not like it, I will beat it with a smile on my face.

If I have not posted again before Thursday, my next post will definitely be after I see the oncologist.

Thanks to everyone who has expressed their support, their thoughts and their prayers. They are all appreciated more than I can say to you in words.

All I can say to you is this:

I. WILL. WIN.