As we wait for my "junk" to wake up after chemo (or what's left of it after surgery), our doctor has mentioned all the possibilities we have for getting pregnant. Many of those possibilities cost a lot of money.
Before my cancer support group the other day, another woman and myself were both sporting our Livestrong bracelets, and talking about upcoming Livestrong events before the meeting started. This lead into a conversation about Lance Armstrong and the Tour de France. After the meeting started, when it was my turn to discuss things with the group, I asked if anyone knew of any foundations that would help pay for fertility treatments for testicular cancer patients. Then someone asked me something so obvious, I felt absolutely stupid for not thinking of it myself. She said, "Have you called Livestrong?" I hadn't. I hadn't thought to call the foundation started by a guy who had testicular cancer and had fertility problems and successfully fathered children since his treatment. Why would I think to call that guy?!?! Did I mention I felt stupid?
So, first thing the next day I called Livestrong and talked to a really nice young lady who sounded like she was about twelve years old. I am hoping she was twelve years old, because she gave me names of several places that offer help for people in my situation, and all those names were wrong, and if she were twelve I could say "she got the names wrong, but she's only twelve, what do you expect?" HOWEVER, they were just barely wrong, so I was able to type them into Livestrong's website and get the correct names for the foundations I was looking for. Now back to the twelve year old, I am pretty sure she wasn't twelve (unless Texas doesn't have child labor laws), but nevertheless, do you realize how awkward it is talking about testicular cancer and fertility issues to someone on the phone that sounds like a twelve year old girl? I expected Chris Hansen to get on the phone about halfway through the conversation and ask me what I was doing.
So, after figuring out the correct foundations, I started researching them. Some of them had requirements that I qualified for and others I didn't qualify for. One in particular I think was all talk. They would pay for everything provided you filled out your application after getting diagnosed and prior to any treatment and you had to wait until you heard back from them before you proceeded, but then they would pay for everything! Of course they will pay for everything, because they know there is absolutely no chance anyone will do that. Your mind is going a million miles an hour once you have been diagnosed, the last thing you are thinking of is looking up foundations and filling out applications. Here is a timeline, I got preliminarily diagnosed on a Tuesday, confirmed that Friday, was told to immediately go make a "deposit" at the "bank" followed by another on that Monday, and have my surgery Thursday. That left literally a two hour window between my official diagnosis (which you need for the application) and the deposit to fill out the application, send it off, and wait for a reply. Yeah, I am sure they give out tons of cash. (That is sarcasm by the way.) But I am also sure that company is telling everyone about this great program they have.
One of the more promising leads is a hospital. that I am all too familiar with, will do in vitro for free (if it comes to that) for testicular cancer patients in my situation (poor). They have very little requirements, like you have to make less that $75,000, which I just barely squeaked under that requirement by about $70,000. I love this hospital and would be happy to work with them, although admittedly, most of the time I am there I am on my back and unconscious. But from what I remember about my visits there, they are good.
A question that frequently comes up when I mention in vitro is "Does that mean you guys will be like the Octomom?" In our doctor's conversations about in vitro, not once has she mentioned the word "litter". I don't think I need a bunch of kids at once, because not being a sports person I am not trying to make a "team". Although being a fan of music, a power trio might be nice. We are still hopeful though that the other tricks our doctor is having us do will work, including my junk working right again at some point.
So as we approach another set of fertility appointments, I am getting anxious to hear what the next step will be. Do you remember the old flea circuses on cartoons and stuff? I feel like my swimmers are having to do a sperm circus, because they are constantly washing them and counting them and freezing them and thawing them and who knows what else. All I know, is the toughest thing I have had to do so far is look at dirty magazines. Wait until we have a kid and I tell them all the hardships I went through to create them. I am sure they will want to hear it.
Showing posts with label Lance Armstrong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lance Armstrong. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Twit Happens
One thing that is nice about the "new media" is the ability to get together with people from all over the world that you have no idea who they are. However, as a cancer patient (trying to make the transition to calling myself a cancer survivor), there has been one surprising fact about this new media. Cancer patients seem to be able to find each other on-line, befriend each other, and actually talk to one another and offer support! That seems to be especially true on Twitter.
As I had mentioned before, very early into my ordeal @noboobsaboutit and I connected and she was a constant source of inspiration, support, and information. Shortly after that @pharmacistmike offered support with his @TCSociety Since then, many other people have offered their support on-line. I may put a little note how I am not having the best day, and inexplicably I will get someone sending me a note to hang in there, or relating how they made it through the same thing. Granted, Twitter does have it share of celebrities trying to say something outrageous just to get in the public eye for another fifteen minutes, and it is impressive how some can manage to tick off so many people in only 140 characters! And there are the comedians that try to say something ridiculous in their bio to show you what you can expect on an hourly basis. And there is the obsessive tweeters who let you know what size coffee they bought that morning. But I would rather hear from my fellow cancer warriors any day. It is surprising the number of very busy people that take the time to send a private message or tweet back. I have even seen Lance Armstrong send several notes of support (but never to me, c'mon Lance, send some love, my doc knows your doc...) Even if it is a day where you don't need the encouragement, seeing that someone else that has gone through it is thinking about you, puts a smile on your face.
So, I offer this friendly advice to anyone that is going through their own cancer battle. Create a Twitter account. Follow the American Cancer Society, Livestrong, or in my case the Testicular Cancer Society or any of the others, and you will be surprised how much support finds you! That is just some friendly advice from @the1nutwonder I would write more, but I am probably coming close to my 140 characters.
As I had mentioned before, very early into my ordeal @noboobsaboutit and I connected and she was a constant source of inspiration, support, and information. Shortly after that @pharmacistmike offered support with his @TCSociety Since then, many other people have offered their support on-line. I may put a little note how I am not having the best day, and inexplicably I will get someone sending me a note to hang in there, or relating how they made it through the same thing. Granted, Twitter does have it share of celebrities trying to say something outrageous just to get in the public eye for another fifteen minutes, and it is impressive how some can manage to tick off so many people in only 140 characters! And there are the comedians that try to say something ridiculous in their bio to show you what you can expect on an hourly basis. And there is the obsessive tweeters who let you know what size coffee they bought that morning. But I would rather hear from my fellow cancer warriors any day. It is surprising the number of very busy people that take the time to send a private message or tweet back. I have even seen Lance Armstrong send several notes of support (but never to me, c'mon Lance, send some love, my doc knows your doc...) Even if it is a day where you don't need the encouragement, seeing that someone else that has gone through it is thinking about you, puts a smile on your face.
So, I offer this friendly advice to anyone that is going through their own cancer battle. Create a Twitter account. Follow the American Cancer Society, Livestrong, or in my case the Testicular Cancer Society or any of the others, and you will be surprised how much support finds you! That is just some friendly advice from @the1nutwonder I would write more, but I am probably coming close to my 140 characters.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
2011: The Year Of The Doctors' Appointments
After the surgery and chemotherapy, I am now to the "observation" phase of my treatment and I will be at that phase for a few years to come. So far I have had four doctor's appointments this month, and I have three left.
First, I have swimmers! Before you start chemo, they tell you that the chemo will probably make you sterile, which is obviously the part that the lawyers of the people who manufacture the chemotherapy make them say. The oncologist followed that up by saying he didn't know anyone who had that particular type of chemo that actually became sterile (for example, Lance Armstrong and I had the same chemo, and he has had two successful swimmers in the past two years). What was funny, is the nurse from the urologist's office acted like she had devastating news for me, saying that my count of swimmers was low. For me, having just cleared the time period when I should be able to start making swimmers again, and after being told I may never make swimmers again, I was ecstatic. All I need is one swimmer! Maybe two, my wife and I are still arguing that point. Personally I am hoping when my swimmers do make it to the finish line we get triplets.
My second doctor's appointment was with my G.I. doctor. The best news there was I am not due for another buttsporation for another four years! The colonoscopy itself isn't too bad, it's just the prep that has you wishing you hadn't ate all of that food over the past three years so you could get off of the toilet and move on with your life. I have an upper scope in July, but all you have to do for that one is not eat after midnight then go to sleep when they inject you with the good stuff. The only bad news I received from the G.I. doctor, wasn't from him at all. He had been wanting to do a CT scan on me for a while, but we couldn't really justify it. So, since we already had one done, I had sent the scans over to him. He got to see what he wanted to look at and said everything seemed good. In fact the only thing they marked on my scan was the two cyst type things in my kidneys. The only problem with hearing that, was I hadn't heard that before then. So now I have something new to worry about. I asked him if going through chemo would help my Barrett's Esophagus at all, and I was told it wouldn't because esophageal cancer doesn't respond to chemo. Not what I was really hoping to hear, but then he reiterated that is why it is so important to do the scopes when he says to. I guess I will see you in July, doc! Other than that, some of my G.I. issues are doing so well that I have been able to back off some of my meds!
Appointment three was a blood and pee test. The only bad thing about these tests, is you do them at the same time (well a few minutes apart), and they want you to not eat anything that morning, yet still be able to pee. So I was left chugging water on the whole way to the doctor's. The vampire was nice (she always is) and let me in on a little secret. I have veins that like to roll around when stuck, and most nurses are fine when I say that they usually need a "butterfly" to stick me, but every once in a while I get a cranky don't-tell-me-how-to-do-my-job one, who manages to stick me several times before grabbing the butterfly. This nurse said the main reason nurses are like that is that the butterfly needles cost considerably more than the regular ones. And some employers will actually ration the number of butterfly needles a nurse gets in a week. Yeah, that makes sense, stick a person nine times before you break out the more expensive needle (and I speak from experience).
Saturday, I had my regular doctor appointment. I had a year's worth of questions to ask him, which just about every answer was to quit worrying about it. I asked him about my kidney cyst looking thingys. He said just about everyone has those and he is sure that my oncologist is watching those if he is worried about them. He also said it looks like a stitch may be trying to push to the surface from my incision and to have the urologist look at it. I don't know what the heck I will do if I see a string poking out my belly? The kid in me will want to pull it, which has me running all sorts of scenarios in my mind, most of them involving me unraveling. The good news is since a CT scan is much better than getting poked in the butt, I was able to avoid having to get the dreaded prostate exam (or the finger wag as my dad calls it). I don't think either one of us has been looking forward to that. Since this is my no nonsense doctor, he spent most of the appointment telling me I was doing great after my cancer treatment, and now it was time to lose weight! Sometimes I don't feel like I am doing as well as I would like after my treatment, but I definitely agree with him on the losing weight part. I want to lose the weight as fast as possible, then think of a reason to go to him just to prove I could take off the weight. What am I talking about? I am sure I will probably manage to hurt myself sometime before next year's check up. I'll probably end up hurting myself while trying to lose weight.
So, four appointments down and three left this month. I don't know exactly what to expect from the urologist and oncologist. At least the X-ray will be another one of those laydown and don't do anything tests. I am good at those tests. Oh well, nothing I can do but show up to them and then blog about what happened...
First, I have swimmers! Before you start chemo, they tell you that the chemo will probably make you sterile, which is obviously the part that the lawyers of the people who manufacture the chemotherapy make them say. The oncologist followed that up by saying he didn't know anyone who had that particular type of chemo that actually became sterile (for example, Lance Armstrong and I had the same chemo, and he has had two successful swimmers in the past two years). What was funny, is the nurse from the urologist's office acted like she had devastating news for me, saying that my count of swimmers was low. For me, having just cleared the time period when I should be able to start making swimmers again, and after being told I may never make swimmers again, I was ecstatic. All I need is one swimmer! Maybe two, my wife and I are still arguing that point. Personally I am hoping when my swimmers do make it to the finish line we get triplets.
My second doctor's appointment was with my G.I. doctor. The best news there was I am not due for another buttsporation for another four years! The colonoscopy itself isn't too bad, it's just the prep that has you wishing you hadn't ate all of that food over the past three years so you could get off of the toilet and move on with your life. I have an upper scope in July, but all you have to do for that one is not eat after midnight then go to sleep when they inject you with the good stuff. The only bad news I received from the G.I. doctor, wasn't from him at all. He had been wanting to do a CT scan on me for a while, but we couldn't really justify it. So, since we already had one done, I had sent the scans over to him. He got to see what he wanted to look at and said everything seemed good. In fact the only thing they marked on my scan was the two cyst type things in my kidneys. The only problem with hearing that, was I hadn't heard that before then. So now I have something new to worry about. I asked him if going through chemo would help my Barrett's Esophagus at all, and I was told it wouldn't because esophageal cancer doesn't respond to chemo. Not what I was really hoping to hear, but then he reiterated that is why it is so important to do the scopes when he says to. I guess I will see you in July, doc! Other than that, some of my G.I. issues are doing so well that I have been able to back off some of my meds!
Appointment three was a blood and pee test. The only bad thing about these tests, is you do them at the same time (well a few minutes apart), and they want you to not eat anything that morning, yet still be able to pee. So I was left chugging water on the whole way to the doctor's. The vampire was nice (she always is) and let me in on a little secret. I have veins that like to roll around when stuck, and most nurses are fine when I say that they usually need a "butterfly" to stick me, but every once in a while I get a cranky don't-tell-me-how-to-do-my-job one, who manages to stick me several times before grabbing the butterfly. This nurse said the main reason nurses are like that is that the butterfly needles cost considerably more than the regular ones. And some employers will actually ration the number of butterfly needles a nurse gets in a week. Yeah, that makes sense, stick a person nine times before you break out the more expensive needle (and I speak from experience).
Saturday, I had my regular doctor appointment. I had a year's worth of questions to ask him, which just about every answer was to quit worrying about it. I asked him about my kidney cyst looking thingys. He said just about everyone has those and he is sure that my oncologist is watching those if he is worried about them. He also said it looks like a stitch may be trying to push to the surface from my incision and to have the urologist look at it. I don't know what the heck I will do if I see a string poking out my belly? The kid in me will want to pull it, which has me running all sorts of scenarios in my mind, most of them involving me unraveling. The good news is since a CT scan is much better than getting poked in the butt, I was able to avoid having to get the dreaded prostate exam (or the finger wag as my dad calls it). I don't think either one of us has been looking forward to that. Since this is my no nonsense doctor, he spent most of the appointment telling me I was doing great after my cancer treatment, and now it was time to lose weight! Sometimes I don't feel like I am doing as well as I would like after my treatment, but I definitely agree with him on the losing weight part. I want to lose the weight as fast as possible, then think of a reason to go to him just to prove I could take off the weight. What am I talking about? I am sure I will probably manage to hurt myself sometime before next year's check up. I'll probably end up hurting myself while trying to lose weight.
So, four appointments down and three left this month. I don't know exactly what to expect from the urologist and oncologist. At least the X-ray will be another one of those laydown and don't do anything tests. I am good at those tests. Oh well, nothing I can do but show up to them and then blog about what happened...
Monday, November 22, 2010
We Really Need To Find A Cure For Testicular Cancer By November
I have been participating in Movember for three weeks now. For those that aren't familiar with Movember, the short version is that you grow a horrible, conversation starting mustache by being clean shaven on November 1st. When someone asks you about your horrible, conversation starting "Mo" you take the opportunity to talk about men's unmentionables...specifically cancers affecting their unmentionables. Through Movember.com you can also support men growing a Mo with a donation and the money goes to organizations that deal with the aforementioned unmentionable cancers, such as Lance Armstrong's Livestrong Foundation. All in all it is a good cause, but I hate my Mo!
I really don't see how cops, firefighters, old ladies, and perverts do it. I have never tried growing a mustache before, and I don't think I ever will again...until next Movember. For God's sake, we have eleven months to find a cure to prostate and testicular cancer, someone please find a cure so I don't have to grow a Mo again next year...and I don't lose my lone remaining nut, that's pretty important to me too, I guess.
My Mo, although still thin and scrawny, is now becoming long and uneven. It looks like a cross between a thirteen year old's and Wilford Brimley's. It is to the point where a few ambitious whiskers are starting to touch my actual lip, making it feel like a bug is constantly trying to sneak into my mouth, making it impossible to distinguish between the actual bugs sneaking into my mouth. Plus it is getting just thick enough to be absorbent, but not uniformly so. I take a drink of something...OK Pepsi, and there are random wet patches across my upper lip. Eat something sugary and/or sticky (which is pretty much my whole diet) and now you have all sorts of dynamic forces acting upon your Mo.
These aren't the only drawbacks, my wife won't even kiss me anymore, saying my Mo pokes her, but the dogs haven't complained one bit (but they are basenjis, so they don't make much noise at all). In my wife's defense, she stopped kissing me a long time ago, I mean we have been married for nine long, long, long, long, long, long, long years, but this is a new excuse for her.
The thing is just out there collecting dirt. I feel like a humpback whale, partly because I am going through life filtering out plankton through my Mo, but also because I move slow, feel like one of the largest mammals on Earth, and ever since my surgery I walk all hunched over. There is a reason mustaches are nicknamed "crumb catchers", because they are just out there scooping up everything they come in contact with, like lip Velcro. Food, beverages, dust, spider eggs, toothpaste from aggressive brushing, wayward boogers, paper clips (long story), everything gets caught in it!
For nine more days I will tough it out. I will never take for granted the ability to sit on the toilet half asleep and run the electric razor randomly over my face, I just have to be awake enough to avoid eyebrows. At least my Mo is serving it's purpose, it has me complaining about it, and when people ask why I don't just shave it off, I can explain the purpose behind it. So, support the Mo Bros! The world will be a better place if there is no reason to grow Mo's next Movember.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Go Grow a "Mo" Fo' To(m)
Yes it's almost MOVEMBER!!! If you aren't familiar with Movember, then you are not alone. Movember started a few years ago in Australia when a few guys decided to grow mustaches to raise awareness of "men's cancers". Over the years it has grown from country to country. The idea is simple, men (or hairy women) start November 1st clean-shaven. Then, throughout the month of November, you let your mustache, or MO, grow in all of its glory. No beards. No goatees. Only the MO. The more hideous the Mo the better. The idea is for people to ask what that horrible looking thing on your face is which gives you an opportunity to tell them it is to raise awareness of prostate and testicular cancers. So, the worse it looks the more likely it is that someone will ask you about it.
Now there are some doubts around my house on whether I plan on going through with it or not. I have only attempted facial hair once in my life. Right after my GI surgery, after not shaving for the few days I was in the hospital, I decided to leave the goatee area. I only had a few days worth of growth and met a friend for lunch. As soon as she got in the car, she took one look at me and just said "No, get rid of it". This wasn't a girlfriend or anything like that, just a close female friend, which are more likely to give an honest answer when you are making a total fool out of yourself (or in my case starting to follow a horrible 90's trend that just doesn't seem to die). Part of the reason I have never attempted any facial hair is my whiskers come in really thick everywhere except the mustache area, and not wanting to look Amish, I never attempted to do anything (except the one time). With patchy lip whiskers, my Mo will certainly be a conversation piece.
There are two caveats to my Mo. The first, I am still on a job search. If I get a job interview during the month of Movember, I will probably shave it off for that, and restart after the interview. After all, I believe I read somewhere that it is best NOT to talk about testicles in your job interview, regardless of the intent behind said testicle conversation. I guess unless it's a interview at a urologist's office, then by all means testicle away! Or a Rocky Mountain oyster bar. Or a vet's office. Or a marriage counselor. But anyway, reason number two, IF I lose my hair from chemo, it should happen in the next week or two. So, my Mo might jettison itself off of my face and that I obviously have no control over (which makes way for the joke "Are you on chemo or are you just so ugly your Mo ran away?"). I haven't quite decided which Mo I am going for. Please feel free to weigh in on which Mo, you think best fits me. The only ones I have ruled out completely are the Hitler and the John Waters. There is a Mo guide in the "Lodge" on the Movember site if you are not up on your Mo style.
Now what can you do to support Movember? The cheapest and easiest is to grow your own Mo! If you remember my journey, I am the one that noticed the lump first, not a doctor. Just as with breast cancer, it is important to do self exams (for testicular cancer, leave the prostate exams to the professionals and ask for credentials first, don't get cheap and let any old person that offers give you a prostate exam). Just talking about "men cancers" is getting awareness out there. I am certainly not here begging for donations (unless you want to buy me an American made Paul Reed Smith with twenty four frets and double cutaway) but if you would like to support Movember, and thereby support the Livestrong Foundation and all that they support (including the Wellness Community), as well as support prostate cancer research, you can go to the Movember website and search me (I am currently the only Tom Peterson registered). If there happens to be more than one of me, I am on team Juan Bahl (not my joke, but a funny one). We are headed up by the founder of the Testicular Cancer Society. Feel free to join our team if you are growing your own Mo, or if you are so inclined to donate, you can do so there as well (that is donations for cancer research, not to my PRS fund). My MoSpace page is here if you want the shortcut.
There are also parties and events planned around the world throughout the month of Movember. Unfortunately, it looks as if I will be out of town for our team's party, HOWEVER there is an event that I may be able to attend while I am out of town. IF, and that is a big IF, I can find the will to train over the next month, there is a bicycle event out of town that I would like to attend. What is it called? The "Mustache Ride" of course! I am not making any of this up. I don't know how close I am to jumping on a bicycle seat again after being sliced and diced down there a few weeks ago. But it is something I would really like to do, and we are going to have our bikes with us anyway. Although I was planning on taking my old Giant brand mountain bike named after a place in Montana that I managed to erase the last letter on. Yes, I am in possession of the one and only Giant Butt. These are the things I do in my shop when I am bored and have access to paint thinner (no I wasn't sniffing it, I was using it to take the "E" off of "Butte"). However, if I am doing this ride, I will also take my road bike. It is full of racing parts, not that I ever plan on racing it, but those parts give you the advantage that the slightest bit of effort can make you roll forever. I farted on it once and coasted for three miles.
I will close this blog by listing the links to the things I have talked about in this blog. If you want to grow your own Mo, you can link to Team Juan Bahl and join the team from my MoSpace page. But feel free to grow a Mo without joining a team. And there is no Mo obligation. As I said the main point of Movember is to get people talking. Thank you and send me those Mo suggestions (and yes I will be posting Mo photos).
C'mon grown one and show you've got a pair, for all of us that don't!!
My MoSpace: http://us.movember.com/mospace/544608/
Movember Foundation: http://us.movember.com/?home
Testicular Cancer Society: http://www.testicularcancersociety.org/
Now there are some doubts around my house on whether I plan on going through with it or not. I have only attempted facial hair once in my life. Right after my GI surgery, after not shaving for the few days I was in the hospital, I decided to leave the goatee area. I only had a few days worth of growth and met a friend for lunch. As soon as she got in the car, she took one look at me and just said "No, get rid of it". This wasn't a girlfriend or anything like that, just a close female friend, which are more likely to give an honest answer when you are making a total fool out of yourself (or in my case starting to follow a horrible 90's trend that just doesn't seem to die). Part of the reason I have never attempted any facial hair is my whiskers come in really thick everywhere except the mustache area, and not wanting to look Amish, I never attempted to do anything (except the one time). With patchy lip whiskers, my Mo will certainly be a conversation piece.
There are two caveats to my Mo. The first, I am still on a job search. If I get a job interview during the month of Movember, I will probably shave it off for that, and restart after the interview. After all, I believe I read somewhere that it is best NOT to talk about testicles in your job interview, regardless of the intent behind said testicle conversation. I guess unless it's a interview at a urologist's office, then by all means testicle away! Or a Rocky Mountain oyster bar. Or a vet's office. Or a marriage counselor. But anyway, reason number two, IF I lose my hair from chemo, it should happen in the next week or two. So, my Mo might jettison itself off of my face and that I obviously have no control over (which makes way for the joke "Are you on chemo or are you just so ugly your Mo ran away?"). I haven't quite decided which Mo I am going for. Please feel free to weigh in on which Mo, you think best fits me. The only ones I have ruled out completely are the Hitler and the John Waters. There is a Mo guide in the "Lodge" on the Movember site if you are not up on your Mo style.
Now what can you do to support Movember? The cheapest and easiest is to grow your own Mo! If you remember my journey, I am the one that noticed the lump first, not a doctor. Just as with breast cancer, it is important to do self exams (for testicular cancer, leave the prostate exams to the professionals and ask for credentials first, don't get cheap and let any old person that offers give you a prostate exam). Just talking about "men cancers" is getting awareness out there. I am certainly not here begging for donations (unless you want to buy me an American made Paul Reed Smith with twenty four frets and double cutaway) but if you would like to support Movember, and thereby support the Livestrong Foundation and all that they support (including the Wellness Community), as well as support prostate cancer research, you can go to the Movember website and search me (I am currently the only Tom Peterson registered). If there happens to be more than one of me, I am on team Juan Bahl (not my joke, but a funny one). We are headed up by the founder of the Testicular Cancer Society. Feel free to join our team if you are growing your own Mo, or if you are so inclined to donate, you can do so there as well (that is donations for cancer research, not to my PRS fund). My MoSpace page is here if you want the shortcut.
There are also parties and events planned around the world throughout the month of Movember. Unfortunately, it looks as if I will be out of town for our team's party, HOWEVER there is an event that I may be able to attend while I am out of town. IF, and that is a big IF, I can find the will to train over the next month, there is a bicycle event out of town that I would like to attend. What is it called? The "Mustache Ride" of course! I am not making any of this up. I don't know how close I am to jumping on a bicycle seat again after being sliced and diced down there a few weeks ago. But it is something I would really like to do, and we are going to have our bikes with us anyway. Although I was planning on taking my old Giant brand mountain bike named after a place in Montana that I managed to erase the last letter on. Yes, I am in possession of the one and only Giant Butt. These are the things I do in my shop when I am bored and have access to paint thinner (no I wasn't sniffing it, I was using it to take the "E" off of "Butte"). However, if I am doing this ride, I will also take my road bike. It is full of racing parts, not that I ever plan on racing it, but those parts give you the advantage that the slightest bit of effort can make you roll forever. I farted on it once and coasted for three miles.
I will close this blog by listing the links to the things I have talked about in this blog. If you want to grow your own Mo, you can link to Team Juan Bahl and join the team from my MoSpace page. But feel free to grow a Mo without joining a team. And there is no Mo obligation. As I said the main point of Movember is to get people talking. Thank you and send me those Mo suggestions (and yes I will be posting Mo photos).
C'mon grown one and show you've got a pair, for all of us that don't!!
My MoSpace: http://us.movember.com/mospace/544608/
Movember Foundation: http://us.movember.com/?home
Testicular Cancer Society: http://www.testicularcancersociety.org/
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Heading Towards Healing!
Today we met with the new oncologist. Today was a good day! Our new oncologist is nothing like Dr. Jekyll that we had last week.
First of all, even though this facility is also in a high traffic area, it's in our high traffic area. So we cut about twenty minutes on our drive each direction. And the office was colorful and inviting, the previous place had all the ambiance of Driver's License Branch with longer lines and wait times. The old place, because of the long lines, put the nurses stations nearly right on top of each other. When they took my vitals, my temperature was 197.2' because I was so close to another patient the thermometer measured both of us. The new place was spacious and friendly. It had room for my wife to come in while my important numbers were gathered. It was so swanky, I could have sworn I saw someone walk by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, but it may have just been a tray of specimen cups, it's hard to tell from a distance. What I am getting at is before we even met the new oncologist, we are already in love with this place.
The doctor walks in. Talk, thin, older, soft spoken with glasses, kind of what you would expect a compassionate doctor that is getting ready to talk about very serious things to look like. And what made me really feel at ease, he asked me to start from the beginning. He had gone over my chart already, but he wanted to hear it in my own words. I'm glad. Who knows what Dr. Jekyll wrote on my chart? I imagine it's something like, "Patient has cancer or something, somewhere in the lower half, wants some treatment, I wonder what's for lunch, Jimmy John's, no had that yesterday, wonder where the nurses are going, I thought I heard one say Arby's, that sounds good, although their chicken is spicier than it used to be, I'll just get a roast beef, that's always a safe bet, I wonder where this guy's going to eat, oh that's my patient, what's he still doing here, I think he just asked me something, just tell him he's good and we'll schedule another appointment next week, maybe I'll get Jimmy John's after all" The fact that we are starting over from scratch doesn't seem so much like we are going backward in my treatment, it feels like a fresh start. He listens intently to both of us and doesn't once make any notes on my chart about lunch. He asks about my gastro-intestinal issues. Dr. Jekyll's way of dealing with my GI issues was to just say that I didn't have any. I feel like I am in a dream things are going so well.
After our initial conversation, we move to treatment options. He agrees that chemo is the best option, BUT he wasn't completely sure, so he called a colleague he knew at Indiana University (nice place!) that has a little bit of experience with testicular cancer. He was one of Lance Armstrong's doctors! Now at first we are very impressed (and we still are), but I imagine Lance probably had more than one oncologist. But hey, if he wants to work some Lance magic on me that will be just fine. I don't need to win the Tour de France, I will settle for just being able to walk down to the end of the driveway without having to wobble and collapsing on the couch when I get back. And how much Lance magic will he be working on me? Will I have to follow in his footsteps and divorce my wife, hook up with Sheryl Crow and one of the Olsens? I don't even like Sheryl Crow, and I guess if I have to take one of the Olsens, I'll go for Lizzie. She won't be as stuck up as Mary Kate or Ashley, but she still probably has some of their billions. Oh, the doctor's still talking to me. He says he was leaning towards a single larger dose in my case and Lance's doctor agreed. Dr. Jekyll wanted two smaller doses. For those uninitiated to the wonderful world of chemo (including me until just a few days ago) although two smaller doses sounds like the easier option, it's actually worse. It seems the longer you are on chemo, the more the side effects compound onto each other. One large dose can get the job done just as effectively with far less complications. Good news, except now I have to get that haircut. He said I may loose a little from the treatment, but definitely not all. If there is one thing worse than shaggy hair with widow's peaks, it's splotchy shaggy hair with widow's peaks.
Obviously I am still concerned about the GI issues. I tell him about the appointment I scheduled with the GI doc to help regulate my medications during the rest of my treatment. I ask for the exact dosage and name so I can take the information to my appointment. He said he will send a note to that doctor, but "I will just tell Steve when I see him at the hospital today." What?!?! I know I am in a dream now. Not only does he acknowledge that I have GI issues, and wants to work with me, he knows my GI doc on a first name basis and sees him everyday at the hospital where they both do procedures! He does a quick physical exam, including lifting my shirt, where he seems my GI surgery scars and makes a comment about the "old way" that involved about an eight inch gash rather than five small holes. Hmmm, someone should tell Dr. Jekyll if I am making up this GI thing, I went through an awful lot of trouble to create scars twelve years ago just to mess with him.
He explains my situation to me in depth. He explains the differences in types of stages of cancer and that I am a "Clinical Stage I". He is throwing out percentages of reoccurring, chances of living cancer free, all the stuff we never heard from the last guy. We still have questions. He keeps patiently answering them. Should we hold off on the baby making? An emphatic YES. Wow, Dr. Jekyll said don't worry about it. I would hate to think about the kid we may have made. Who knows, they may have been able to glow in the dark and been their own night-light. Do I need to stay away from babies? Another very strong YES, and especially their dirty diapers. That one I try to practice on a daily basis anyway, but I appreciate the reinforcement. Dr. Jekyll also told us not to worry about that. If there is one thing worse that creating your own luminescent child, it is turning your friend's kids into glowworms. Dr. Jekyll said my bathroom routine doesn't have to change, where this doc says I could get seriously ill if I floss when my white blood cells are at their lowest and for the duration of my treatment I will always have to flush the toilet twice. I am still not quite sure I understand this one. I have already been accused of having atomic turds. Maybe it is just to flush the incandescent pee to keep fireflies out of the house. Whatever the reason the water company will thank me. Then he tells us there will be plenty more that we haven't or won't think to ask that we will need to know about as well. That is why they give all of their chemo patients and their families/support system a "class" on what to expect, what to do, what not to do. I am waiting for someone to come around the corner with a camera and tell us this is all a prank. This is so different from our last doctor and so exactly how an oncologist appointment should go.
We finish up by scheduling our next several appointments including the class, chemo, blood-work, follow-up appointments, as well as taking blood-work right now to make sure my white blood cells and platelets are high enough to start chemo. This can't be real. Someone pinch me. OOWW!! That wasn't a pinch, more of a stick with a large needle and two vials of blood, but at least I know I'm not dreaming. This is real. She tests the blood real quick and clears me to start chemo. I am heading towards healing again! November 15th, that's when I can breathe. That's when I can say I'm done with "treatment" and only have to worry about "observation". Two doctor's appointments next week. Chemo the week after that. Ten days later I will feel like crap. But within two weeks or so of that, I should feel like a new man, or at least half a new man since I lost one of my dangling bits. A definitely cancer free man! I can't wait. Today is a great day!
First of all, even though this facility is also in a high traffic area, it's in our high traffic area. So we cut about twenty minutes on our drive each direction. And the office was colorful and inviting, the previous place had all the ambiance of Driver's License Branch with longer lines and wait times. The old place, because of the long lines, put the nurses stations nearly right on top of each other. When they took my vitals, my temperature was 197.2' because I was so close to another patient the thermometer measured both of us. The new place was spacious and friendly. It had room for my wife to come in while my important numbers were gathered. It was so swanky, I could have sworn I saw someone walk by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, but it may have just been a tray of specimen cups, it's hard to tell from a distance. What I am getting at is before we even met the new oncologist, we are already in love with this place.
The doctor walks in. Talk, thin, older, soft spoken with glasses, kind of what you would expect a compassionate doctor that is getting ready to talk about very serious things to look like. And what made me really feel at ease, he asked me to start from the beginning. He had gone over my chart already, but he wanted to hear it in my own words. I'm glad. Who knows what Dr. Jekyll wrote on my chart? I imagine it's something like, "Patient has cancer or something, somewhere in the lower half, wants some treatment, I wonder what's for lunch, Jimmy John's, no had that yesterday, wonder where the nurses are going, I thought I heard one say Arby's, that sounds good, although their chicken is spicier than it used to be, I'll just get a roast beef, that's always a safe bet, I wonder where this guy's going to eat, oh that's my patient, what's he still doing here, I think he just asked me something, just tell him he's good and we'll schedule another appointment next week, maybe I'll get Jimmy John's after all" The fact that we are starting over from scratch doesn't seem so much like we are going backward in my treatment, it feels like a fresh start. He listens intently to both of us and doesn't once make any notes on my chart about lunch. He asks about my gastro-intestinal issues. Dr. Jekyll's way of dealing with my GI issues was to just say that I didn't have any. I feel like I am in a dream things are going so well.
After our initial conversation, we move to treatment options. He agrees that chemo is the best option, BUT he wasn't completely sure, so he called a colleague he knew at Indiana University (nice place!) that has a little bit of experience with testicular cancer. He was one of Lance Armstrong's doctors! Now at first we are very impressed (and we still are), but I imagine Lance probably had more than one oncologist. But hey, if he wants to work some Lance magic on me that will be just fine. I don't need to win the Tour de France, I will settle for just being able to walk down to the end of the driveway without having to wobble and collapsing on the couch when I get back. And how much Lance magic will he be working on me? Will I have to follow in his footsteps and divorce my wife, hook up with Sheryl Crow and one of the Olsens? I don't even like Sheryl Crow, and I guess if I have to take one of the Olsens, I'll go for Lizzie. She won't be as stuck up as Mary Kate or Ashley, but she still probably has some of their billions. Oh, the doctor's still talking to me. He says he was leaning towards a single larger dose in my case and Lance's doctor agreed. Dr. Jekyll wanted two smaller doses. For those uninitiated to the wonderful world of chemo (including me until just a few days ago) although two smaller doses sounds like the easier option, it's actually worse. It seems the longer you are on chemo, the more the side effects compound onto each other. One large dose can get the job done just as effectively with far less complications. Good news, except now I have to get that haircut. He said I may loose a little from the treatment, but definitely not all. If there is one thing worse than shaggy hair with widow's peaks, it's splotchy shaggy hair with widow's peaks.
Obviously I am still concerned about the GI issues. I tell him about the appointment I scheduled with the GI doc to help regulate my medications during the rest of my treatment. I ask for the exact dosage and name so I can take the information to my appointment. He said he will send a note to that doctor, but "I will just tell Steve when I see him at the hospital today." What?!?! I know I am in a dream now. Not only does he acknowledge that I have GI issues, and wants to work with me, he knows my GI doc on a first name basis and sees him everyday at the hospital where they both do procedures! He does a quick physical exam, including lifting my shirt, where he seems my GI surgery scars and makes a comment about the "old way" that involved about an eight inch gash rather than five small holes. Hmmm, someone should tell Dr. Jekyll if I am making up this GI thing, I went through an awful lot of trouble to create scars twelve years ago just to mess with him.
He explains my situation to me in depth. He explains the differences in types of stages of cancer and that I am a "Clinical Stage I". He is throwing out percentages of reoccurring, chances of living cancer free, all the stuff we never heard from the last guy. We still have questions. He keeps patiently answering them. Should we hold off on the baby making? An emphatic YES. Wow, Dr. Jekyll said don't worry about it. I would hate to think about the kid we may have made. Who knows, they may have been able to glow in the dark and been their own night-light. Do I need to stay away from babies? Another very strong YES, and especially their dirty diapers. That one I try to practice on a daily basis anyway, but I appreciate the reinforcement. Dr. Jekyll also told us not to worry about that. If there is one thing worse that creating your own luminescent child, it is turning your friend's kids into glowworms. Dr. Jekyll said my bathroom routine doesn't have to change, where this doc says I could get seriously ill if I floss when my white blood cells are at their lowest and for the duration of my treatment I will always have to flush the toilet twice. I am still not quite sure I understand this one. I have already been accused of having atomic turds. Maybe it is just to flush the incandescent pee to keep fireflies out of the house. Whatever the reason the water company will thank me. Then he tells us there will be plenty more that we haven't or won't think to ask that we will need to know about as well. That is why they give all of their chemo patients and their families/support system a "class" on what to expect, what to do, what not to do. I am waiting for someone to come around the corner with a camera and tell us this is all a prank. This is so different from our last doctor and so exactly how an oncologist appointment should go.
We finish up by scheduling our next several appointments including the class, chemo, blood-work, follow-up appointments, as well as taking blood-work right now to make sure my white blood cells and platelets are high enough to start chemo. This can't be real. Someone pinch me. OOWW!! That wasn't a pinch, more of a stick with a large needle and two vials of blood, but at least I know I'm not dreaming. This is real. She tests the blood real quick and clears me to start chemo. I am heading towards healing again! November 15th, that's when I can breathe. That's when I can say I'm done with "treatment" and only have to worry about "observation". Two doctor's appointments next week. Chemo the week after that. Ten days later I will feel like crap. But within two weeks or so of that, I should feel like a new man, or at least half a new man since I lost one of my dangling bits. A definitely cancer free man! I can't wait. Today is a great day!
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