It often strikes me on how time flies but yet certain events seem like yesterday. It was 20 years ago that I was diagnosed with Colon Cancer (NPHCC) of a hereditary nature. My sister Mary had passed a number of years earlier from the same cancer in her early 40’s after the birth of her fifth child. I was in my mid 40’s looking at the same diagnosis but was persuaded by those around me to search out the best treatment with no delay in getting this treated. I was lucky to have some great connections in the province I was employed by and switched doctors for more immediate attention. After a formal diagnosis on Dec. 24th, I used the holidays to research better surgeons and was connected to one of the best for an appointment in early January.
On January 8th I met her for the first time and she confirmed the need to act quickly and remove the tumour and assess my condition as to future treatment. Through a cancellation, I was able to jump the cue and be on the table by the 14th of the same month. This was my first time for major surgery so the little details like having my chest and abdomen shaved clean, being cut from the breast bone to below the belly button and being neatly put back together with a row of staples on my stomach were new experiences. Recovery was eased with the use of the morphine pump and tested by the pushy nurse who made me walk in the hall every day. The staples were later removed in front of young interns by the head nurse, the joys of a teaching hospital.
On February 14th I was on my way to chemotherapy for the next 6th months. One week on with 5 days of treatment, than 3 weeks off. Then back again for 5 days etc till mid July (6 rounds of treatment). The last cycle sent me back to the hospital with a near fatal impact from the chemo drug used. It would seem that the dosage should not be only calculated on the patient’s weight but take into consideration the limitation of one’s liver. Mine had already had it’s share of working overtime during a few years of overindulgence. Now there is some speculation that the chemo may well be linked to my Parkinson’s Disease (PD) as my loss of smell was blamed on the cancer treatment while also recognized as one of the first signs of PD.
So after a colonoscopy on Friday, Nov. 1st this year I am given another 3 years to believe the cancer is in remission which allows me to focus on PD as my health challenge. Not quite the retirement dream I had hoped for but I will play the cards I am dealt to the best of my ability. Instead of prayers or even good wishes, please join us in our fight to beat this disease (or any other ones) by taking action, donating or volunteering. We may win together or I (and many others) will pass before we finish the fight.