The (not so) new normal.
Source: Seth Macey, Unsplash
The oncology appointment was this morning and the impact of this is still setting in. I should start by saying that last week Troy and I made a last minute call and booked flights to Maui as a way to relax before the storm starts. Well the storm is coming this week and we were told today that I am grounded due to surgery.
When most people are in this situation they do chemo to shrink tumors so they can remove less when they go in but not me. I’m special. My overachieving colon has been doing so well at making cancer that they couldn’t get the endoscope through to the end and my oncologist is worried that if they don’t go in to address it now my colon could get permanently blocked and we’ll eventually need to do emergency surgery. Going in later means a messier recovery, higher risk, and a high likelihood of a colostomy bag.
So I go into surgery this Friday and will learn later this week if they plan to remove half or my entire colon. They are also taking my ovaries. Most that know me personally know I have never wanted children but this one adds a little bit of a rub to the experience. Colon? Who needs it? Take it all. Ovaries… Um… can we talk about this? What’s menopause like? Am I going to get my energy back when I go on synthetic hormones? This better not make me get fat or grow hair on my chin. I didn’t want kids but there’s something about having the option to make that choice myself that hurts just a little bit. I guess the silver lining in this is now Troy doesn’t need to go see Dr. Snip to fulfil his end of the no kids bargain (the feminist in me is screaming right now).
Oh, but I learned so much more today…
I have stage 4 colon cancer and on the spectrum of mild to bad mine is really, really, bad (not good).
The oncologist still thinks this is curable and plans to treat it like that (good).
Surprise! No more ovaries for you! (At least I have my health….wait…fuck.)
My liver is enlarged, pushing against my stomach, and lit up with tumors like a christmas tree (think of me like a delicious foul being prepped for foie gras).
My liver tumors are so advanced that the doctor says they have probably been growing for the last 2-3 years (W…T…F…).
People my age are getting colon cancer all the time now (terrifying).
I have to cancel my trip to Hawaii tomorrow because I’m not stable enough to fly (supremely lame).
If I do nothing and don’t start chemo I have months to live (W…T…ever loving…F!!!).
Chemo will start in a few weeks after I recover from surgery and have my strength back.
Chemo should help with my liver pain (yay!)
I wish I could say I feel better. More clarity in theory should make me feel comfortable about the road ahead. I’m honestly more upset about missing out on Hawaii and losing my ovaries right now than I am about the prognosis. I know the prognosis is a function of statistics and how I react and respond to the medication will be highly individualized so it’s less a guarantee than a “just is, and we’ll deal with it.” Still, this whole experience today has made me angry.
I’m angry at my body for not telling me sooner. I feel betrayed. The oncologist said this is really common with young healthy people and to add insult to injury he said nearly all of the young people he is seeing with this fit my profile because their bodies have been healthy enough to hide it. Young, thin, and healthy and then all of the sudden, “oops, you have stage 4 cancer and months to live!” The irony of this wasn’t lost on me.
I feel like had I known or had some sort of indication I could have found this sooner and maybe it would be different. I’m extremely grateful for the experience at Oracle because it led me to meet and marry my husband and is also the reason I co-founded WTF. However, I am angry I stayed in the division I worked in for nearly 3 miserable years. I’m angry I put up with the stress and emotional trauma of working on a team where I never felt valued or appreciated. I know hindsight is 20/20 but had I known then what I know now I would have quit 6 months into it and focused on doing something that made me happy. No money in the world is worth that type of stress. I don’t know whether it would or wouldn’t have made a difference in how my body feels today but emotionally I wonder if it would have turned out differently.
So this is now. My first appointment today was at 8:00 AM and it’s after 5 and I just got home from the hospital. One appointment turned into 3, plus a blood draw, plus another CT scan. I’m trying to stay patient through all of this. Everyone I talk to tells me this is a marathon and not a sprint. As someone with fast twitch muscles who can’t run longer than a few miles this mentality is a strange adjustment but one I know I need to make. I guess one good outcome of this now that the shock is gone is that bad news doesn’t really phase me anymore. Yeah, losing my ovaries wasn’t exactly what I was expecting walking into Oncology today but I get the rationale for why they want to do it and honestly if it improves my odds and gives me more of my most precious commodity then this is what I need to do.
So surgery is the next step and then chemo after that. Given today’s prognosis I know I’ll make it past the next few months with treatment. I am not terribly concerned about dying at this point and am not willing to put any energy into that. For the record, the oncologist didn’t think my death pool joke was very funny either. I need to work on my material…
What I want goes beyond that.
I want to try and enjoy my first year of marriage and not feel completely handicapped.
I want my diseased colon out.
I want to attend my friends weddings in the fall.
I want my bloody trip to Hawaii (confirmed I can do this after I start chemo).
I want to make it to 40 and ideally past that (2 years away this month).
I want to be old enough to have a full head of grey hair.
I want to see my niece grow up and make it to college.
I want to adopt a golden retriever buddy for Frank and name him Baxter (this is the deal Troy and I made if I kick this thing).
I want to contribute to something bigger than myself that has a positive impact on other people’s lives.
I want to be well enough to eventually work again.
These aren’t insane goals. Well….Baxter was kind of a big deal a few months ago but I’ve gotten Troy over the line on that one. Thanks cancer! I said this before, but I don’t know who I will be and what I will want when I come out of this so I am approaching this with an open mind and a sense of wonder. At times like today, wonder may occasionally turn to sarcastic anger, but it’s an emotion and I figure it’s better that I feel something and have the motivation to push on than to do nothing. What I do want is that this makes me stronger and more capable of handling anything. I think that is as good a goal as any.
- Brynn