A not so Happy Anniversary

I can still remember the Oncologist's words..."David.  I have some good news and some not-so-good news."

Ok.  Good news? - there is some good news.  Let me see...what could that good news be? I don't have cancer?  Or...maybe it is that even if I do have cancer - they got it all.  All clear.  Nothing to worry about.  They got it in time.  Go off and recover from the surgery, get married and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!!

I wish.

The good news is that the surgery was successful and it appears that the tumour has been cleanly removed.  Yippeeee!!!! 13cm of my colon removed (but it should be better than ever).

But the bad news.

Bad news?  What could be worse than the discovery of a medium to large size growth in my sigmoid colon that required urgent surgical intervention?

The bad news is that the pathology confirms that of 17 lymph nodes removed and sent for analysis, 2 have come back positive for cancer.  Your cancer has spread regionally.  We should discuss further treatment options such as chemotherapy to try and statistically reduce the risk of recurrence.

WTF?  Are you kidding me?  Here I am laying alone in my hospital bed for the first time in over a week since Victoria is having her bridal shower party today.  You see...we're getting married in 4 weeks!!!!  Reduce what risk of recurrence?  I thought you got it all?!

So you see...this Sunday represents a very special significant milestone.  Today marks two years from diagnosis and communication of pathology of Stage IIIb along with decision to start a curative-intent chemotherapy regimen  - and the beginning of a long tough tough journey. 

All my previous posts tell my story of the past two years...my journey with colon cancer...my battle, my ups and downs, my very detailed experiences with treatment, recovery and survival.

But this post is also a brief update and message of encouragement to all you fantastic, super-awesomely terrific, wickedly great and honourary members of the Kicking the Crap Crew.  

The 3rd Annual Bum Run is just a mere 34 days away and I am proud to say that we - the KTCC 3.0 - is on the board.  We find ourselves in 4th place overall for team fundraising but on the board nonetheless - YAY!!!!  The Bum Run itself has now raised over 53% of it fundraising goal.  I would like to humbly encourage you - okay let's call it shamelessly ask you to support me or any other member of the KTCC (http://my.myccc.ca/davidbenjaminbrown) . 

I am living proof that every dollar, every person made aware of the importance of colon cancer screening, of early detection, of education and awareness of risk factors and prevention is worth the ask. In different ways any of you that have taken the time to stop, read my story, and show your support in your own way have played such a significant role in keeping me positive, in supporting me when I just didn't feel so well - neither physically nor mentally.  

And hey...if this is a ten-round fight in light of the latest good news from my Oncologist at my two-year followup appointment this past week then I would say with confidence that Round Four goes to....me.  I am that much closer to kicking the crap out of colon cancer.  

The Kicking the Crap Crew 3.0

This post is nothing but a personal and loud SHOUT OUT for all supporters of the Kicking the Crap Crew...I am sending out this message to ask for your support again this year and to recruit all the super enthusiastic awesomely excited wickedly tenacious sponsors, cheerers, walkers, runners, family, friends, supporters or just honorary members of KTCC.   If you are returning to my blog you know about my journey.  If you are a first-time reader thank you for taking the time to stop by and read.  In just a few weeks I will commemorate two years from diagnosis with Stage IIIB colon cancer and I gotta tell you it’s been a long journey - a long long long journey. 

http://my.myccc.ca/davidbenjaminbrown

Above is a link to my personal page in the BioK 5k BumRun that will take place this year on Sunday April 27th.  I along with my wife, Victoria, and our son Benjamin along with many other family members and friends will join forces on this day and once again proudly walk/run this event.  I am thrilled that once again this year I am healthy enough to lead the Crew. If you have read my blog you will know that just a few months ago I wasn’t so sure I was going to be healthy enough to be in the Bum Run this year.  Proud to say that not only am I healthy enough, this year I am determined to lead the Kicking the Crap Crew to be  the highest fundraising team total .  This year, the organizers of the Bum Run and Colon Cancer Canada reached out to me and asked if I would be a Patient / Event Ambassador and share my story in their inaugural newsletter The Backside released just this past week.

To all who take a moment and read my story Thank you. To all supporters - Thank you. Thank you. Spread the word about colorectal cancer, awareness and screening. Every dollar and every sponsor and every person who is made aware of the importance of colorectal cancer screening is appreciated. You all inspire me.

Did I say this already? THANK YOU!

Out out damn spot. Again.

When last I left you I had recounted the "scare" of late last summer early fall.  Well after the phantom pain or discomfort and what seemingly is nothing related to colon cancer, life was to return to normal...or at least my new normal- Regular surveillance tests like CT scans, quarterly bloodwork, monthly port flushes...and every cold, flu, backache, nagging pain that just won't go away sparking a deep seated fear way back in the mind that my cancer had spread, that the surgery over 18 months ago had still left some cancerous little fuckers behind and that they had found a new home.  Normal. Yeah.  Nice and normal.  Until the "normal" /"regular" surveillance test in November, the "regular" CT scan one year post chemo, 18 months post diagnosis and surgery.  

I honestly don't know what I was thinking going to my follow-up CT scan appointment alone.  Was I getting complacent?  Was I beginning to believe that since tests at 6 months, 9 months, 12 months, CEA tests and the battery of chest xrays, bone scans etc. had all been good that I am out of the woods?  I decided to head to my follow-up meeting with Dr. Hart after my 18month CT scan by myself thinking that I would just head to work afterward.  No big deal.  Victoria should just stay home with Ben.  No need to come with.

I sat in the waiting room like I have before many times and read the signs to shut off my cell phone and smiled.  No need to be "connected" or "online" when waiting for Dr. Hart.  I talked to Michelle, his (awesome) assistant about Benjamin and his latest milestone.  And it was all normal.

Then why did something just not feel right?!

Why were my hands shaking?

Why was that nagging fear that is ALWAYS there way way way back in the mind...now feel palpable?

Remember it is all in my mind, right?! 

Then Michelle told me to go on in and wait in his patient exam room.  And for some reason I began to sweat.  As I sat there in his exam room looking at all the different and varied illustrations and diagrams of the human GI system I looked for the sigmoid colon where my primary tumour had been that Dr. Hart removed, looked at the blood network and pathways to various organs in the "system" - liver, pancreas, stomach, gallbladder, lungs.  I have seen these illustrations many times before but today for some reason found myself staring at the diagram that outlined the sigmoid and the picture of colon cancer cells depicted.

And then Dr. Hart walked in.

After the typical "hellos", he turned to me and referenced my latest CT as "mostly good".  

"Mostly good?!"  WTF?  

Dr. Hart went on to talk about the spot on my liver.  That damn spot they found in the hospital after my surgery 18 months ago.  That spot that had been unchanged in all the previous scans to date.  That fucking little spot.  You see it has changed.  What was once 3mm is now 5mm...or something like that.  And although not large in size the fact that it had undergone cellular growth and change was of concern.  Dr. Hart went on to tell me that I need not worry yet about it until he was worried.  And he wasn't worried yet.  He said he was ordering a special liver MRI to find out more.  And IF..IF it was liver metastases...if it was determined to be liver mets then he would go in and remove it.  Dr. Hart tried to reassure me that he cures people of liver mets from colon cancer all the time.  Or at least I think that is what he said.  

All I remember hearing is "growth", "liver", "metastases", "surgery".

Before I left the office, Michelle scheduled me in for a liver MRI and it was to happen within a week of the meeting.  

I left his office, turned on my cell phone, and called Victoria. As soon as she answered I broke down. And cried.  I told her everything that I could recall Dr. Hart told me.  I heard the despair and fear in her voice.  

I thought about Benjamin.  And cried.

What followed for weeks afterward was truly the scariest darkest moments of my life.  Telling my family of the latest results.  Telling my coworkers that something may be terribly wrong.  Putting my life on hold.   Tears.  Moments of extreme clarity.  Followed by moments of deepest darkest fear.

Surgery?  Chemo?  Am I going to be on my feet for Christmas?  Can Dr. Hart operate on this spot and remove it?   Does this mean I am going to die?  What about a will?  I don't have one.  Should I tell my lawyer?  Will I be off work again?  What are the stats for colon cancer liver metastases?  I think about Barb.  And cry.

MRI on the liver is NOT pleasant but the nurses and staff at St. Joes were sooooooooo awesome.  But unfortunately the MRI was scheduled for late Friday afternoon.  Victoria and I would have to go all weekend wondering...what would it show?

I decided to call Michelle at Dr. Hart's office on Friday and found out that his office would close Monday for Remembrance Day but that if when he read the results on Tuesday he determined surgery was an option to be discussed, I should be prepared to have surgery immediately - literally within days.

The weekend was a blur. Trying to keep busy and distracted with visits from my sister Jodie and her family.  Just what I needed.

Monday - go to work and bury myself in my job and try NOT to worry.  LOL.

Tuesday came and I was a complete wreck.  Could NOT stop worrying about the results even though I knew to focus on all the positive information we had to go on.

The phone rang.  It is my mother calling to checkin.  Arggghhhh.

2:00, 2:15, 2:30, 2:45....the phone rings.  It is Michelle.  Dr. Hart has consulted with the technologist and they both "do not think it is liver metastases.  It looks like a cyst but we need to send you to a special physician guided ultrasound of your liver.  But he is pretty sure it is a cyst. 

BREATHE.  REJOICE.  

So...another test.  More wait.  More worry but not quite as much.

The phone rings.  Caller ID tells me it is St. Joes.  It is Michelle from Dr. Hart's office. She says he wants to talk to me.  I swallow my tongue.

And the results of the ultrasound are in.  It is a cyst.   It is not liver cancer.  It is not metastases. He wants me to hear this from him and to enjoy the Christmas holidays now.

Dr. Hart gave me a gift that not even St. Nick could.

He gave me hope.  He gave me peace (at least for now until the next test ;-)). 

In the immortal words of Tiny Tim "God bless us everyone".

And in my words "God bless you, Dr. Hart.".