There’s always hope.
Fourteen months ago, I faced the same diagnosis. My case became apparent through a fistula where the colon connected to and perforated my stomach wall. Took a month or more of misery to diagnose what was actually happening. When they did, things moved quick. CT scan, three months of chemo, surgery in January and chemo ever since. Oncologist suggested it might go on for a couple years while they keep checking me for re occurrence.
Tumor was completely removed and chemo cleaned up what could be seen. Thought I was going to get a clean bill of health. Now I guess what the treatment is called is Maintenance Chemo. Avastin is the only IV and I take capecitabin twice a day for two weeks on, one week off.
I have to say, I pretty much lucked out all the way around. I was what they classified as “medically avoidant” which might be an understatement. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was treated at all times with dignity, respect and understanding.
Very little reaction to chemo except for cold sensitivity. They were prompt to deal with the nausea when I finally complained about it. I have a couple of big bags of meds that were prescribed that I mostly didn’t have to take.
I feel like a million bucks! (probably cost nearly that much too) Better and more active than I’ve been in years.
My colon cancer was definitely genetically related. My mother had it, and survived that, and later breast cancer for twenty years. She warned me at the time that hers was genetic and I needed to start colonoscopy’s annually. I ignored it obviously. Mine is Lynch Disease. Now I’m doing my best to encourage my own children to get tested. They each have a 50% chance of having the same gene. Geeze, you’d think after watching me go through all that crap, they’d be a little more concerned about their own mortality. It’s something we talk about constantly, but none have made an appointment to have it tested or the procedure done.
Hang in there Maggie, I’m hoping you have a lot of life left in ya yet. It’s amazing the improvements they’ve made in prognosis the last twenty years. My mom suffered probably 10 years after her radiation treatments, until they discovered that they’d fried part of her colon. Snip, snip and in a couple months, she was dancing again.
My only complaints now, besides having to drive 300 miles every two or three weeks, is having to plan my entire life around a toilet because of the chemo drugs.
The best part, besides still kicking, is that I can eat cheese again! Peanut butter too. I’d given those up for a couple years prior to diagnosis.