I know I was supposed to write this last week, but by then end of today's post you will understand why I am not always able to post when I want. As I have mentioned in the past, I was laid off from work exactly two weeks when I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Two life changing events that came back to back. What only my very closest friends know what there was actually a third event that happened right after that.
We had been wanting to start a family for a while, and were actively trying for around a year. A few days before I started chemo we found out that we were pregnant. It seemed like the typical feel good story, boy loses job, boy loses ball, but before he lost that nut boy and girl get pregnant. There was a whirlwind of emotions, it was something we desperately wanted, but the timing couldn't be worse. Chemo works by being a very nasty drug that is easily absorbed by anything that grows quickly in the human body, like cancer cells, hair, taste buds, and unfortunately babies. Because of this the first week I had to take tons of precautions around my wife making sure that she did not come into any contact with anything that may have the chemo in it. Even using the bathroom involved closing the lid, covering the lid with a heavy towel, and flushing the toilet twice. I never realized how long it takes a toilet to flush until I had to stand, weakened from chemo, waiting for it to finish flushing twice so I could remove the towel and go back to my normal routine.
After we went through all of this trouble, we lost the baby. It was very early in the pregnancy, and to say we were stressed during this time would be an understatement. What we found out after this was the staggering percentage of first time pregnancies that end in miscarriage, however that didn't make us feel any better. It was a third blow to us in less than two months. It was the ray of hope we had been focused on through chemo. Of course many things ran through my mind, like was it my fault for missing a chemo precaution and maybe I should have postponed my treatment.
The next few weeks were a mass of confusing information. Some people say to try again right away, others say wait. Some doctors say don't try so soon after chemo, others say it is fine the swimmers either die from the chemo or are not affected. My urologist said to just give up for at least six months, but my oncologist urged us to see a fertility specialist because we "needed something good in our lives". And he was right.
The first thing a fertility specialist tries to determine is which partner is causing the trouble. This makes tons of sense, I mean treat the person with the problem(s), right? So, my poor wife goes through a series of tests that look like the set of a alien abduction movie. I still have nightmares about some other the stainless steel contraptions I saw. I also had to go through a series of grueling tests that involved me going into a room, and being provided with dirty magazines, dirty movies, and a cup. It was horrible for me, mainly because I had already read all of the magazines when we "banked" some samples before my surgery.
So after my wife goes through her series of probings and shots, and I watch a few movies, we find out that...surprise surprise the problem looks like it is with the guy with the testicular cancer and chemo. Who would've guessed? The doc was very supportive and said with very little intervention, we could use my frozen stuff and probably be successful. No nasty chemicals, no danger of having "Plus 8" after our names or being chased by reality TV producers, for the most part things are pretty normal...except one.
This technique required me to give my wife a shot in her gluteus maximus the night before the procedure. Our doctor was very supportive and involved so they even drew and "X" on the targeted butt cheek to show the exact spot that the injection needs to be placed. Well, the first round didn't work, so when went for the second try the next month, I asked the nurse if instead of an "X" if she could draw a happy face so I could "jab it between the eyes with the needle". See, these are the kinds of suggestions that would normally get you thrown out of your wife's doctor's appointments, but in our case the nurse drew the happy face. This seems all very funny at the doctor's office, but it results in uncontrolled giggling when you are sitting there with a giant needle getting reading to lance a happy face on your wife's posterior. For some reason, my bent over wife did not see the humor in the situation which only resulted in even more uncontrolled giggling from me. Luckily, we did not have to try it a third time because my wife said she was working on a few ideas of what she was going to have the nurse write on her butt to greet me the next round.
So, I will leave on this cliffhanger, did we get pregnant, did we have a baby, is the baby keeping me from blogging as regularly as I would like? I think you know the answer, but I will talk about it more tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Back And Prepared To Fight If Needed
I know it has been a very long time since I have posted last, and I will explain the reasons for that tomorrow. Right now, I would rather talk about the catalyst that made me write today.
At my previous job, in the eight years I worked there, seven of us had been diagnosed with cancer (that I know of). Now, I have been too lazy to actually look up statistics, but I think out of an organization of 100 or so of us that is a little high. There was a person who was diagnosed with breast cancer just a month or so before I was diagnosed. Not a close friend, just a work colleague, but still as someone I worked with I had gone through the trouble to go buy a get well card. Like a lot of things in life, it kept getting passed over until I heard she had made it through treatment without any problems at all. At that point it seemed a little silly to send a get well card. Then out of the blue, I got one from her. That really meant something, because since I had been laid off from the company, I wasn't aware that too many people even knew of my cancer diagnosis. So it was a little pick me up that she took time out of her recovery to help me with mine (especially when I procrastinated too much to send her a card). She was also a source of hope for me because other than her and I, everyone else that was diagnosed has already died of their illness. It was nice to know that two of us had escaped the curse.
Fast forward to this past weekend. When talking with a different former work colleague, I was informed that this person had passed away last month. Apparently the cancer had come back in her liver this time and she was unable to fight it. I was sad to hear of the loss of her. Last I knew she was past all of this cancer crap.
What happened next surprised me more than I ever could have imagined. That meant I was the last survivor standing. All of a sudden, many of the feelings I had the first day I was diagnosed came flooding back to me. The most prevalent thought in my mind was "does this mean mine can come back without warning as well?" It was about an hour from when my friend told me of our colleagues passing before I could tell my wife. I just had a lot of the same scared feelings all over again.
I have had a lot of good things happen the past few months (which I will talk about tomorrow) and to be honest cancer was something I hardly thought about at all anymore. In fact, after yet another screw up with hospital billing I had even contemplated foregoing CAT scans because I was tired of dealing with paperwork afterwards.
I told another good friend of mine that I felt like I was in an 80's horror flick and that the evil cancer has been picking off the seven of us, and I am the last one being chased. She lightened the mood by pointing out in horror flicks if I had been black or a busty blonde, I would have been one of the first to go. At last check, I am neither African American nor a busty blonde (although if I don't start working out more, I may develop some manboobs). I told her I am hoping that I am the one person that always lives in a horror flick just in case they want to make a sequel. Although, I certainly don't want to go through all that again. For one thing I would have to change my blog from the "One Nut Wonder" to the "Nutless Wonder" if I went through all of this a second time.
I just couldn't believe how quickly I could be taken back to a place I thought I had left behind almost a year ago. After all, during my oncologist visits, I seem to spend more time filling out insurance paperwork that I do with the actual oncologist. My X-rays and CAT scans are getting further and further apart. But this one bit of news brought me right back to a week after chemo. So much so, that I contracted some deadly funk yesterday, be it food poisoning, the flu, Voodoo curse, or whatever gives you 102 temp, stomach cramps, and body aches, and the whole time in the back of my mind I am asking myself "Is this really just from cutting off some Haitian on the Interstate or is this an indication that cancer has comeback somewhere else?"
Regardless, I will try to enjoy the blessings I have and if the day comes where I have to star in "Cancer II, the Recurrence" I will do my best to make it through the sequel to fight again. Now I just have to think of a witty catch phrase...
At my previous job, in the eight years I worked there, seven of us had been diagnosed with cancer (that I know of). Now, I have been too lazy to actually look up statistics, but I think out of an organization of 100 or so of us that is a little high. There was a person who was diagnosed with breast cancer just a month or so before I was diagnosed. Not a close friend, just a work colleague, but still as someone I worked with I had gone through the trouble to go buy a get well card. Like a lot of things in life, it kept getting passed over until I heard she had made it through treatment without any problems at all. At that point it seemed a little silly to send a get well card. Then out of the blue, I got one from her. That really meant something, because since I had been laid off from the company, I wasn't aware that too many people even knew of my cancer diagnosis. So it was a little pick me up that she took time out of her recovery to help me with mine (especially when I procrastinated too much to send her a card). She was also a source of hope for me because other than her and I, everyone else that was diagnosed has already died of their illness. It was nice to know that two of us had escaped the curse.
Fast forward to this past weekend. When talking with a different former work colleague, I was informed that this person had passed away last month. Apparently the cancer had come back in her liver this time and she was unable to fight it. I was sad to hear of the loss of her. Last I knew she was past all of this cancer crap.
What happened next surprised me more than I ever could have imagined. That meant I was the last survivor standing. All of a sudden, many of the feelings I had the first day I was diagnosed came flooding back to me. The most prevalent thought in my mind was "does this mean mine can come back without warning as well?" It was about an hour from when my friend told me of our colleagues passing before I could tell my wife. I just had a lot of the same scared feelings all over again.
I have had a lot of good things happen the past few months (which I will talk about tomorrow) and to be honest cancer was something I hardly thought about at all anymore. In fact, after yet another screw up with hospital billing I had even contemplated foregoing CAT scans because I was tired of dealing with paperwork afterwards.
I told another good friend of mine that I felt like I was in an 80's horror flick and that the evil cancer has been picking off the seven of us, and I am the last one being chased. She lightened the mood by pointing out in horror flicks if I had been black or a busty blonde, I would have been one of the first to go. At last check, I am neither African American nor a busty blonde (although if I don't start working out more, I may develop some manboobs). I told her I am hoping that I am the one person that always lives in a horror flick just in case they want to make a sequel. Although, I certainly don't want to go through all that again. For one thing I would have to change my blog from the "One Nut Wonder" to the "Nutless Wonder" if I went through all of this a second time.
I just couldn't believe how quickly I could be taken back to a place I thought I had left behind almost a year ago. After all, during my oncologist visits, I seem to spend more time filling out insurance paperwork that I do with the actual oncologist. My X-rays and CAT scans are getting further and further apart. But this one bit of news brought me right back to a week after chemo. So much so, that I contracted some deadly funk yesterday, be it food poisoning, the flu, Voodoo curse, or whatever gives you 102 temp, stomach cramps, and body aches, and the whole time in the back of my mind I am asking myself "Is this really just from cutting off some Haitian on the Interstate or is this an indication that cancer has comeback somewhere else?"
Regardless, I will try to enjoy the blessings I have and if the day comes where I have to star in "Cancer II, the Recurrence" I will do my best to make it through the sequel to fight again. Now I just have to think of a witty catch phrase...
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