Adding to my original story, my PSA count went up. Doc gave me a shot of Lupron. He isn’t too concerned but is sending me for a pet scan. He says he might recommend “spot radiation” if any hot spots show up. He’s never before recommended any radiation. I’m not worried. It would be pointless. I’ll take what comes.
To quote the great Mel Brooks: “Hope for the best. Expect the worst. Life is a play. We’re unrehearsed.”
Diagnosed in 2005 with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (large B cell). Chemo and radiation (sucked) over about 6 months. Took me another 8 months to recover. 20 years of annual checkups and no recurrence.
January of this year I felt an enlarged lymph node in my neck. After a bunch of tests that were inconclusive I got a biopsy that was mostly inconclusive. No visible cancer cells. One test showed 14% clonal cells which the pathologist interpreted as small cell lymphoma. Went to a specialist at Ohio State. They re-did all the pathology and blood tests. They found nothing. The specialist thinks everyone has been hedging their bets because of my history and what they were seeing was inflammatory response to my endless sinus issues. Headed to my regular oncologist next week for a follow up. We’ll see what he has to say.
So maybe round 2 is cancer and maybe it isn’t. Maybe the biopsy (which removed the entire lymph node) completely removed the cancer or maybe it didn’t. I guess I’ll wait and see.
Three years ago had a growth where the sun don’t shine. Anal cancer. Chemo and daily radiation roasted EVERYTHING in that general vicinity, about six months of debilitating pain and agony while organs healed, but am now completely fine.
On the bright side, when folks came to the door to sell solar panels or salvation all I had to do was say “sorry, I’ve got anal cancer” and they couldn’t leave me alone fast enough.
Whoa! That’s a helluva conversation-stopper to keep in your back pocket (as it were).
You are hilarious!
“Let us all pray for my ass. Can you wait right here while I go get the photos first?”
I am currently in the process of surviving cancer. I was diagnosed with breast cancer last September, on Friday the 13th of all days. I had an appointment with the breast surgeon set up on September 27. That was the day Hurricane Helene hit. Three weeks later we got power back and my appointment was rescheduled. I had every scan in the universe and had my lumpectomy and breast reduction in December.
I finished chemo at the beginning of July and I’m on my last week of radiation. Now all I have to look forward to is my port removal and all the follow up appointments. It’s been a heckuva year. Fortunately I live with my two best friends and they’ve been awesome through the whole ordeal. Real friends don’t help you move bodies. Real friends scoop your catbox for you when you’re forbidden to.
Congratulations on reaching the end of treatment!
Once I get this port out I’m going to soak in a tub for at least an hour. Baths have been forbidden to me for so long. I can’t even stay in the shower too long right now because I’m all marked up with stickers on me so the radiologists can line me up properly.
Your port isn’t completely subdermal?
Stage 3c melanoma survivor here.
In 2012, at age 34, I finally got that mole on my jaw checked. It was removed that same day. After some follow-ups, it was a cancer diagnosis, but we thought it was clear.
Coming up to my first-year checkup, I felt a couple hard lymph nodes in my neck. It had spread, but between a great surgeon, radiation therapy. and the stupidly primitive “immunotherapy” interferon treatment, I’ve been cancer free for ten years now.
I got an up-close experience with some amazing medical technology, but I can’t recommend the experience overall.
Cancer Survivor or cured? My Oncologist didnt like that term- what he liked was that after treatment, I would very likely die of something else rather than cancer. A real bundle of laughs, I know, but I thought about it- and I think he was right. Yes, they said they caught my prostate cancer ‘earlier than they had done” and i was lucky. Treatable, with just some radioactive implants. No long term side effects.
I am now officially done with my chemotherapy. While it was in no way fun apparently I tolerated it better than most. I was able to continue working for the first four months of a five month, six cycle treatment program. Latest CT scan shows no cancer (YAY!)
I am now entering a clinical trial for post-chemo maintenance therapy for folks with stage 4 endometrial cancer, to which category I belong. I’m still more fortunate than most in that category in that my metastasis was caught very early and my cancer seems to have succumb to chemo even as I tolerated it better than average.
People seem to have a dread of chemo which is not entirely unjustified. As I said, it was in no way fun. But my experience was that the side effects were manageable. In MY case it was not “the worst thing ever”. It is for some people. Definitely a case of YMMV. I guess my point is that chemo isn’t always horrific torture. Apparently, though, there’s no way to tell where on the spectrum of reactions to it any individual will fall, you only find out by going through it.
I have a 50/50 chance of getting the actual drug in the clinical trial that has been shown to have some efficacy in other types of cancer. Even if I don’t get the actual drug but a placebo one feature of the clinical trial is very intensive monitoring, which could catch any relapse early again. While there are no guarantees with cancer I can’t help but think the earlier you catch it the better your odds.
I’ll just note that some of the people in the clinical trial are not, like myself, in remission. It also includes people for whom chemo was ineffective. Which would really suck, to go through chemo and have it not work. That’s a lot of suffering to no purpose.
It is, but I’m using its removal as my marker of being completely done with everything.
That alone sounds like an excellent reason to participate in the clinical trial!
About two years ago, my wife felt a small lump in her breast. A mammogram suggested possible cancer and two days later she was operated on and a milk duct was removed. A biopsy showed it was cancerous, but there appeared to be no spread. She did get five radiation treatments and is now taking tamoxifen, which suppresses estrogen, although at her age (87), she’s likely done making that. A year ago, she had an appointment with her oncologist. We got into a taxi (the hospital has a parking lot, but it is a hellish warren) waited for a half hour, were called into his office and waited there for several minutes. Finally, he appeared in the doorway and spent 30 seconds saying, “You have the best kind of cancer, the kind that doesn’t metastasize”, and disappeared. Taxi back home. $70 and a whole morning that he could have just told her over the phone. I should not complain, given the outcome.
How much was visit versus the cost of a phone call?
Good work, and good luck!
My radiation marks were tattooed on me.
I didn’t get any radiation tattoos, but I still have the plastic immobilization mask. It has all sorts of marks and tape and notes, and it’s creepy as all get out.