Two years ago on
May 10th, I spent five hours in surgery and then the weekend in the
hospital, recovering from the removal of a squamous carcinoma tumor, all the
lymph nodes on the right side of my neck and my right tonsil. Recovery from
surgery stretched on for five weeks, my tongue thick and bruised from where it
had been clamped down during surgery, my throat burning and raw from where the
tonsil had been removed.
Before my throat
and neck were fully healed, a full month of radiation treatments began. A work
colleague of mine, learning of what I’d be going through, correctly stated,
“Today there are no good or kind treatments for cancer.” Compared to radiation
treatments the surgery was nothing. 30 days of showing up for a treatment that
made me feel worse and worse each day, killing my taste buds and making it
painful and virtually impossible to eat anything other than liquids and ice
cream. I lost close to sixty pounds during that time (about forty pounds more
than I could spare to lose). Each visit to the doctor’s office brought on
another discussion about how I should consider having a “permanent” feeding
tube put into my stomach—and each time I resisted this idea (which is what I’d
still recommend to anyone who has to make this choice. From what I understand
many patients who go this route never eat normally again.) For a while the
radiation treatments also stole my voice. My wife fondly refers to this time as
“the month when she won all the arguments.” :-)
But this is all
behind me now, past history. I’m officially two-years cancer-free. Cancer Free!
That’s a big deal, and I’m happy to be here to write this. I’ve picked back up
thirty pounds of weight and my taste buds have returned. As bad as the disease
and the treatments of it were, I’m glad there was something that could be done
to stop this terrible disease—and to reduce the likelihood that it might come
back. As awful as radiation treatments were, the benefit is that they reduced
my chances of a second recurrence of neck/throat cancer by about 35%. Being two
years out from my diagnosis also greatly reduces the likelihood of the disease
coming back. All reasons for me to celebrate.
So what else can I
tell you about being a survivor of throat cancer?
I should probably
tell you about HPV, the human papillomavirus. As I wasn’t a smoker, HPV is the
most likely reason I got this form of cancer. From what I understand, 90% of
all adults in the United States have been exposed to this virus. If you are a
parent of a child ages 9 to 26, get your child vaccinated against HPV. (This
vaccine didn’t exist when I was a kid, but if I’d had this vaccination, it may
have prevented what I went through.) Adult males over the age of 40 are at
greatest risk for neck and throat cancer. Statistics seem to vary on this, but
one that sticks in my head is that this cancer is the fastest growing type of cancer for men
in this age bracket, and 1 in 67 males will contract it.
Smoking: Another
great way to encourage throat cancer. Don’t do it.
Health insurance:
I remain thankful that my employer offers great health insurance—and that I had
it when I needed it. When I finally tallied up all my bills for the time period
when I was sick it was a six-figures number—almost all of which was covered by
my insurance. To be uninsured at this time would have meant bankruptcy. I hear
plenty of complaints about “Obamacare”—the Affordable Care Act (ACA)—but under
the ACA people with cancer or a history of cancer cannot be denied health
insurance coverage. Obviously as a cancer survivor I’m a fan of this idea.
After effects: I
still feel the results of my cancer treatment daily, although to an outside
observer I probably seem completely normal (or as normal as I get). There is
always a little pain in my neck and mouth, both from the surgery and the
radiation treatment. It’s usually not much, maybe a 2 on a scale of 1-10, but
it’s there—and worse on days when I move wrong, sleep wrong, on the weather
changes drastically. My doctor tells me this is my new normal, and is probably
how it will always be. Eating/swallowing and talking are all a little more
complicated for me these days. Radiation treatments have the effect of
constricting/tightening all the space between tissues in the treated area—my
mouth, neck and throat—meaning my “swallow” is somewhat broken, my throat a
smaller space than it once was. Certain foods are harder for me to eat—for
instance, I’ve given up on steak and many raw veggies just about completely—as
they are more a choking hazard than nutrition (for me). I also suffer from “dry
mouth”—the radiation f’d up my salivary glands, too—so that I now usually need
to have a tall glass of something to drink with anything I eat to avoid choking.
On the talking front, my voice had gotten a bit deeper thanks to radiation. I
also don’t get a lot of volume out of my voice anymore, and yelling is just about
impossible—but I think that’s OK. These side effects are all things I signed up
for when I decided I wanted to take radiation treatments to prevent my cancer
from coming back. Time will tell if it was all worth it—although so far it
seems like it is.
My Thyroid: may it
rest in peace. There was a 1 in 3 chance it would die after treatment, and it
has. I now take a little pill daily (for the rest of my life) to replace what
my thyroid used to do for my metabolism.
Exceptional
support: I remain thankful for my support network of family, friends, work
colleagues and of course my doctors, nurses and other healthcare professionals
who helped me get through my ordeal with cancer. I was thankful for them then
and am thankful now—especially for the high level of care I received when it
came to my medical treatment. I remain in awe of the doctors and nurses who
spend all their days helping others fight horrendous diseases like cancer.
So I think I’ve
blathered on long enough in this post… mostly I’m just trying to say I’m happy
and fortunate to be here, healthy and writing, but I must leave you with this final
thought: Do you have a lump or bump somewhere that it shouldn’t be? Do you
suspect something is wrong with your health? Then go and get checked out—NOW! (And
don’t skip your routine physicals.) When it comes to cancer early diagnosis and
treatment is half the battle. When I first felt a hard lump under my right jaw
two years ago I’m thankful I went to see a doctor. I could have just as easily
ignored it—which would have been a dreadful mistake.
Well wishes,
Mark
@manowords
Before going to this workshop I had, of course, submitted my work many, many times. To my writing group, to my best friend, to my partner, to my mother...you get the drift: not so much submitting to the publishing industry. Well, good news, that reluctance has now been tamed into submission. I sent off "Birch and the Queen of Dirt" during the session..jpg)
So far I've gotten two form rejections. Bummer, right? Time to sit around for a couple of days moping for sure.
