My story so far...
In mid-November I learned that I have testicular cancer. I found a lump, got an ultrasound, and within a week I was in to see a specialist. Most cases like this end up being malignant. A blood test confirmed that mine was no exception, and a CT scan determined that it had not yet spread beyond the primary site. The Tuesday before thanksgiving I underwent an orchiectomy, which is the medical way to say they removed my left testicle. It was a relatively painless procedure: a short, outpatient operation with a quick recovery. There aren't many long-term effects besides the obvious. I opted out of the $3000 prosthetic.
My tissue was shipped off to a lab to determine what specific cell types were present in my tumor. I got the results the week after surgery. I should mention that testicular cancer is incredibly treatable, perhaps the most curable cancer there is depending upon when it’s caught. My pathology results resulted in the diagnosis of a stage I nonseminomatous germ cell tumor (NSGCT). I was in the higher risk pool compared to other tumor types, but it was found early and has a 95% cure rate when diagnosed in stage I. There was a 50% chance the cancer would never resurface, and a 50% chance it would spread to either my lymph nodes or my lungs. Treatments include additional surgery and/or chemotherapy when it recurs. I was monitored closely for the next few weeks with blood tests and scans to see if any evidence of the cancer remained. If everything had returned to normal, I would have been able to choose to do something preemptive or to simply wait and treat as it came up. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to make that decision. My blood test results never quite normalized and eventually started to climb. Now I need a 9-week regiment of chemotherapy to kill the remaining cancer cells in my body.
As you might expect, the mental part of this has been incredibly challenging. There have been a series of gut punches along the way. The first "you probably have cancer" was the hardest I think. Even with such a treatable diagnosis, hearing "cancer" really messed with my head. I imagine some people go through their life without giving much thought to the what-ifs of medical conditions. I'm not one of those people. I would say that being diagnosed with a serious disease has been one of my biggest fears for a long time. To have it come true has been surreal.
Getting the results from the initial scan was huge. When I learned about the cancer, by biggest fear was spread. For all I knew it could have been everywhere. When I opened the radiology reports the Monday before surgery, the mental tension I had stored up sort of released all at once. The scans were clear. There was only the one small tumor. I literally celebrated having only a little bit of cancer.
The next gut punch was getting the pathology results after surgery. A 50% chance of recurrence was scary. A 95% cure rate was scary too. I know it sounds high, and it is, but 5% is 1-in-20. Knowing this has a 1-in-20 shot of killing me has been sobering. That is something I've come to peace with. I can now fully appreciate how lucky I am to have such a high chance of survival, but at the time it was difficult to hear. There have been several other signposts in this experience that have caused me a lot of anxiety. Getting my blood test results each week, going in for the second set of scans two months after surgery, and coming to terms with the long-term health impacts of chemotherapy have stretched my ability to compartmentalize and deal with stress, But I'm fine, and I'm probably a better person for what I've experienced this far.
So now I'm starting chemotherapy. There will be three, three-week cycles of a regiment call BEP. As I move into this phase of treatment I have decided to start a blog. Over the last few months the conversations I have had with family and friends have helped me more than anything. Taking my thoughts out of my own head and verbalizing them has allowed me to externally process what is happening and frame it in a positive light. The next 9 weeks will be physically and mentally trying. My plan is to use this blog to keep myself positive and help internalize my experiences. I also want to chronicle the journey and tell my story.
My tissue was shipped off to a lab to determine what specific cell types were present in my tumor. I got the results the week after surgery. I should mention that testicular cancer is incredibly treatable, perhaps the most curable cancer there is depending upon when it’s caught. My pathology results resulted in the diagnosis of a stage I nonseminomatous germ cell tumor (NSGCT). I was in the higher risk pool compared to other tumor types, but it was found early and has a 95% cure rate when diagnosed in stage I. There was a 50% chance the cancer would never resurface, and a 50% chance it would spread to either my lymph nodes or my lungs. Treatments include additional surgery and/or chemotherapy when it recurs. I was monitored closely for the next few weeks with blood tests and scans to see if any evidence of the cancer remained. If everything had returned to normal, I would have been able to choose to do something preemptive or to simply wait and treat as it came up. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to make that decision. My blood test results never quite normalized and eventually started to climb. Now I need a 9-week regiment of chemotherapy to kill the remaining cancer cells in my body.
As you might expect, the mental part of this has been incredibly challenging. There have been a series of gut punches along the way. The first "you probably have cancer" was the hardest I think. Even with such a treatable diagnosis, hearing "cancer" really messed with my head. I imagine some people go through their life without giving much thought to the what-ifs of medical conditions. I'm not one of those people. I would say that being diagnosed with a serious disease has been one of my biggest fears for a long time. To have it come true has been surreal.
Getting the results from the initial scan was huge. When I learned about the cancer, by biggest fear was spread. For all I knew it could have been everywhere. When I opened the radiology reports the Monday before surgery, the mental tension I had stored up sort of released all at once. The scans were clear. There was only the one small tumor. I literally celebrated having only a little bit of cancer.
The next gut punch was getting the pathology results after surgery. A 50% chance of recurrence was scary. A 95% cure rate was scary too. I know it sounds high, and it is, but 5% is 1-in-20. Knowing this has a 1-in-20 shot of killing me has been sobering. That is something I've come to peace with. I can now fully appreciate how lucky I am to have such a high chance of survival, but at the time it was difficult to hear. There have been several other signposts in this experience that have caused me a lot of anxiety. Getting my blood test results each week, going in for the second set of scans two months after surgery, and coming to terms with the long-term health impacts of chemotherapy have stretched my ability to compartmentalize and deal with stress, But I'm fine, and I'm probably a better person for what I've experienced this far.
So now I'm starting chemotherapy. There will be three, three-week cycles of a regiment call BEP. As I move into this phase of treatment I have decided to start a blog. Over the last few months the conversations I have had with family and friends have helped me more than anything. Taking my thoughts out of my own head and verbalizing them has allowed me to externally process what is happening and frame it in a positive light. The next 9 weeks will be physically and mentally trying. My plan is to use this blog to keep myself positive and help internalize my experiences. I also want to chronicle the journey and tell my story.