[cancer] Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the car bomb

Not a particularly successful day of followups. Colonoscopy found one medium-sized polyp, in an environment where ideally there should be no polyps, and there certainly shouldn’t be polyps of any significant size. Either a small polyp was missed last year, or my colon is growing them aggressively. This implies long term or lifetime followup on a very rigorous schedule, beyond what was anticipated post-operatively, and bodes poorly for my risk factors.

Additionally, a read of last week’s CAT scan from my ER admit shows spots on the liver and in several lymph nodes. While these could be imaging artefacts, or have some other significance, liver and lymph are the two metastasis pathways for colon cancer. My screening appointment tomorrow has been converted to a PET scan in an attempt to highlight potential tumor activity in those areas. Will know more from the PET scan over the weekend or early next week.

As my doctor says, this is an ambiguous result, not a negative one. Nonetheless, the Fear is making a roaring comeback in my mind. I’m growing monsters in my gut again.

is being magnificent. So are and Mother of the Child. I just don’t want to go further down this road. I’m scared and angry, and tired of being afraid.

10 thoughts on “[cancer] Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the car bomb

  1. As I said on Twitter: Damn, I hope it only sounds bad, but turns out to be inconsequential. I’m glad Calendula and your daughter are there for you today.

    “…Of such hope, let me be–
    A proselyte, a declarer
    A true believer.

    That though he may be an assailed soul,
    Resilience is his mortar,
    And mortal power.”

    Taken from the poem I wrote for you last year “Determined Resilience”

  2. will shetterly says:

    Here’s hoping for the best.

  3. cindie geddes says:

    Shit. I met you very briefly at Master Class in October and I’ve been reading your tweets and blog and hoping for you greatly. You just don’t deserve this. I find myself angry on your behalf. Fingers crossed, candle lit, and every other superstition I can think of. Good luck.

  4. Bob says:

    Dangdangdang. Best of thoughts!!!

  5. Kai Jones says:

    *hugs* I’d pray for you but I don’t think you want that, so I’ll just empathize with the general exasperation and hold out hope for a full recovery.

  6. Dude! Hugs….will keep fingers and toes crossed. May all the damned spots be artifacts caused by the strength of your glorious imagination.

  7. Bridget Coila says:

    {{hugs}}
    Hopefully it will all turn out to be nothing… thinking about you and keeping fingers crossed…

    B

  8. tetar says:

    Use the anger and fight back like a motherfucker, dude. It’s the best way. That cold, implacable kind of anger that simply brooks no rebuke or obstacle.

  9. Shlomster says:

    Powerful energy wending its way to you. Fear’s a strong way to get your attention focused on an issue. Focus on it, and on the people and positive energies that are centered on making and keeping you well.

    I am blessed to have friends with all kinds of crazy doctor-created “stages” of cancer, including folks who’ve been “terminal” for years. The signs and portents of doctors are, even today, little more than tea leaves in augurous configurations. The power of the person, and their support group, are, in my experience, far more powerful than the words of MDs or imagery, however penetrating they might seem to be.

    Chin up, colon clear!

  10. Mark Siegal says:

    Ugh. Tonight I’m doing Relay for Life (the ACS overnight fundraiser), alongside a cancer survivor who I love. As our team walks the track, I’ll think good thoughts on behalf of your health.

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