Open Thread - 5-29-26 - Unto the Breach
It's been a while. I hope I remember how to do this.
Ten months ago, on August 4, 2025, I had a large rectal mass discovered during a colonoscopy. At that time the doctor that performed the colonoscopy also took a biopsy. Two days later I got the word, it was malignant.
On August 13, I had an MRI that showed what I was up against. The tumor was 8 centimeters long (3.15 inches), anything over 5 centimeters is considered large. It was classified as as Stage 3c, an advanced cancer. There were also two or three local lymph nodes, right outside of the rectal wall, that were also suspicious looking. But luckily that was the extent of it, it hadn't spread to any organs or any other part of my body.
The first doctor I talked with after the MRI was my surgeon. After viewing the MRI results he told me because of the precarious position it was in that I would have to have surgery to remove the tumor and several lymph nodes and subsequently, a permanent colostomy. He was pretty confident of his analysis.
That was pretty much a bummer prognosis.
On August 27, I met with my chemo oncologist. I immediately liked her confidence and attitude. We talked about the various chemo types and scheduling and what I was to expect in the coming months. She also gave me a big boost of hope.
Even though I was well along in the staging, she was confident that because I was still in relatively good shape and had essentially a clean health record my whole life, I was 71 when I was diagnosed, that with a aggressive chemo and radiation program that I could possibly have a Complete Clinical Response (CCR) to the treatments. That basically meant that the tumor will have shrunk to nothing and I would have a shot at what's known as the Watch and Wait protocol. Watch and wait meant no surgery, no colostomy, but a rigorous regimen of tests for 5 years afterwards to closely monitor for a recurrence of the cancer. If it returns then it's off to immediate surgery.
That was a huge ray of sunshine after my meeting with the surgeon. Of course I said, "Let's do it"!
And off I went unto the breach.
For the sake of brevity I'll bullet point my journey from there:
- I did four months of chemo therapy which consisted of eight sessions, one week on and then one week off to recover. The week on I would, on every Monday, do a 5 hour infusion with a particularly nasty chemo called Oxaliplatin. Also starting on every Monday I did three 250 milligrams tablets of Capecitabine in the morning and then three more in the evening orally, every day for seven days, and then seven days off. For eight sessions, for four months. I had a side effect or two from the infusions but the pills didn't affect me much.
- After four months of that I had three weeks off to flush the oxaliplatin from my system, then it was off to radiation therapy.
- I did thirty sessions of radiation in conjunction with the six pill per day Capecitabine regimen, every day five days a week with the weekend off. The actual radiation session only took about ten or fifteen minutes to complete, but I had to travel an hour there and then an hour back home. That was a real pain in the butt, pun intended. The radiation didn't affect me too much except about half way through I was experiencing some moderate to severe pain, yep, in the butt, again.
- I also self administered an off label supplement throughout the whole process.
Through the course of the ordeal I had two CT Scans and three MRIs, with the most recent about a month ago. I haven't said much about all this for quite a while because I really didn't have any definitive news to pass along until I got the results of the latest CT Scan and MRI.
The results came back very positive with one caveat.
Soon after the tests I had a meeting with the chemo oncologist to go over the results. She congratulated me and told me that the tumor, for her intents and purposes, was gone and the suspect lymph nodes now appeared normal, and that I was eligible for the Watch and Wait protocol in lieu of surgery if I wished. But, I still needed to see my surgeon for more tests. A physical exam and a Flex Scope test.
I aced the physical exam. I have to go to the hospital and have the Flex Scope done next Monday. The surgeon will examine the area and if anything looks suspicious he'll do a biopsy. If a biopsy is needed and there are still some active cancer cells then I'm most likely looking at surgery.
If the test comes back negative then I've decided I'm going to go the Watch and Wait route. Although, I have to admit to being apprehensive about the state of the economy and whether the great Medigap plan I have will still be available in the future if things go belly up and I have a recurrence and need surgery. Not to mention the possibility of congress monkey wrenching the whole Medicare system. It's a tough and agonizing decision to make.
But, I wont know one way or another until after the test next Monday.
Another welcome outcome of the recent MRI was finding out that the tumor has shrunk upwards enough to allow for what's known as a Lower Anterior Resection (LAR). So, if I do have to have surgery now, or later, I'll have a temporary colostomy for a few months and not the dreaded permanent one.
That was some (just in case) good news.
I feel great. I've put all my weight back on. My strength has returned. I'm back to and still enjoy working outdoors. I had a CEA test a few weeks ago and it came back well within the normal range. I've stayed positive throughout this journey and I have no intention to change that attitude now.
No matter what happens, I got this.
More here: We Need to Talk.
And here: Flipping Off the Abyss.
Comments
Good morning Free Rangers...
It feels good to be back.
A huge shout out and an even huger thank you to studentofearth for covering for me all these months, she did such a great job you all probably didn't even miss me, did you?
Thanks to all the rest of you for carrying on in my absence and for putting up with my mood swings. Chemo-radiation is not only hard on the body, but on the old noggin as well. I still experience brain fog every once in a while, along with mild neuropathy in my feet from the Oxaliplatin, the "platin" part stands for platinum, yeah, that platinum. The neuropathy is getting better and the doc said it should eventually subside.
All in all I came through it all pretty well, although, (crosses fingers and tingling toes), I'm still not out of the woods just yet. Heck, you never really are after a cancer diagnosis.
All the doctors, nurses and staff were great, as was the hospital itself. If I had to express it in one sentence: "They saved my life and I am most grateful for that gift."
Sometimes I don't know how lucky I am.
Congrats with the positive outcomes on the journey
.
among the morass. It is good you are able to maintain an
upbeat attitude throughout the process. Wishing you
continued success! Thanks for sharing. We do care.
Zionism is a social disease
It was a long slog...
and eye opening as I went through the belly of the medical beast, I was pleasantly surprised about the seamless operation throughout.
A cancer diagnosis is sobering and will certainly test your mettle.
But, to put it in your terms, I wont give up the ship.
Thanks, Cap.
Not sure I have the desire to follow that path
.
Mentally and physically things are getting a bit dicey on this end.
But your story is encouraging nonetheless.
Zionism is a social disease
Hang in there
We're all going to be in that situation eventually. Thanks for sharing your journey. One thing my wife is doing is a test for ctDNA , circulating DNA. I don't know if it's just for breast cancer, but might be worth asking about. Good luck on Monday. Nurses rule!
You're welcome Snode...
I think chronicling this event was good for me, it lays it all out in case I need to review it in the future.
About the ctDNA test, yes, there is one. It's called a Signatera Test.
I didn't learn about this test until well into my treatments. I ran across it in my own personal research, and oh boy, did I do my due diligence in researching everything I could find.
A ctDNA test requires a biopsy sample. I had one very early in my diagnosis and I'm fairly certain that hospitals keep biopsy samples for an extended period of time, I hope so since that's the only biopsy I've had to date. I plan on talking with my oncologist about it, it's one more level of detection that could be very valuable down the road.
I got to agree, all the nurses I encountered rule. They were all well trained, congenial and just a pleasure to be around, and honestly, that really surprised me. I got along with them all very well, I kept my upbeat, positive attitude around all of them and I could tell that they noticed. I can only imagine how hard it must be working in an oncology environment and watching the endless parade of cancer patients, and how that would affect them personally. I think they revel in positive outcomes that result from their efforts, and it showed.
Thanks for popping in, brother.
Great news on your continued good report!
Thanks for giving such a great detailed report on your experience. The thing that stood out for me was your decision to have chemotherapy. “You know that is poison in your system?” The same question was asked of me. I did not do radiation but did an extra year of chemo once a month to be sure it was all removed.
I was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer stage 3 and it was only discovered because I fell on a sidewalk in Santa Fe and afterwards started having swelling in my gut. Fortunately the emergency doctor sent me to a lab for scans and this was when they discovered the abnormalities that were diagnosed as ovarian cancer. My oncologist was great. He did not sugarcoat anything. He explained that ovarian cancer was like a dandelion and it could be found all throughout my stomach. Eight hours of surgery and he felt he had found all he could. This was part of the reason for the extra year of chemo.
I am now cancer free but as he said I had conquered that cancer but others could come up. I go for a yearly checkup.
I think we have to be vigilant in our own caring for ourselves and yearly checkups are a good place to keep yourself informed.
Glad to hear you are back in the game!
Life is what you make it, so make it something worthwhile.
This ain't no dress rehearsal!
Good morning jb...
the decision to do chemo was not an easy decision to make, as I'm sure your well aware of.
We both had stage 3 cancers, which although not the dreaded stage 4, is still an advanced stage of malignancy. Pretty scary stuff, no?
Because of the size of the tumor I pretty much had no option other than chemo and radiation if I wanted to go the conventional therapy route. I explored all the various options with the help of my steadfast partner, otc, and finally after going back and forth for days, decided that conventional therapy gave me the best shot at recovery. Although I did self administer with a particular supplement that I previously alluded to months ago, it starts with an "I". I can't prove anything but I'm convinced it helped, and I'm also convinced it didn't hurt me. I'll eventually tell my oncologists about it.
I'm so glad that you're cancer free and hope to join that club in 5 years myself after a clean bill of health, but you know how that goes with a cancer diagnosis.
Thank you, my dear.
This reading is by a gal in our writing group
.
She received honors in a statewide competition and read
her essay at a Memorial Day gathering. Quite moving. I'm
very proud of her. She is finding her voice.
https://vfw-org-hqagarhxahbybyd9.z01.azurefd.net/-/media/VFWSite/Audio/V...
Zionism is a social disease
Very nice...
thanks for that. She's good!
Congrats and welcome back. Good to see you writing again.
I love your "live a little" graphic and am stealing it and will definitely print it out and hang it on my office wall. I once had a cancer MISdiagnosis and it was, as you say, sobering, at least until the second opinion came in.
Glad to see that you have such a positive attitude, that and good wine (or whisky) will get you through a lot, but only once the medicos approve of the beverage consumption. Whatever they may say, its healthier than sugar.
be well, super well, as a matter of fact, and have a good one
That, in its essence, is fascism--ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or by any other controlling private power. -- Franklin D. Roosevelt --
Thanks mi hermano...
here's a higher resolution copy of the image if you want to print it out. Yeah, I know, it's from Facebook but it's the only high res copy I could find. I don't do FB but you should still be able to access it even if you too are not a fan of that personal data scraping site.
I hear you about the beverage consumption. Because of the nature of my malady I have to be very conscious in what I allow to pass through my gastrointestinal system, heh and harrumph.
I also hear you about the sugar consumption. I think one of the things that helped slow down the initial growth of the tumor was a diagnosis I had had about 5 years ago. A blood test revealed that my A1c was pretty high and I was diagnosed as pre-diabetic. I was issued a script for metformin, which my body would not abide at all. I took it for about 3 weeks and then I quit. I told the doctor that I would try to to address the problem by changing my diet. I cut out all sugar and that eventually lowered my A1c to the point where I'm no longer considered pre-diabetic. A victory!
I think that lack of sugar in my diet helped me to fight off the cancer as well, given that sugar is cancer food. Another potential victory!
Thank you, old friend, and you be super well as well.
My version of the misdiagnosis
was the big surgical surprise that saved my life. Back in the '70s and early '80s, all things involving women having control of their bodies was way more controversial than even now. Ob/gyns paramount job was to keep women capable of giving birth. So, my menstrual cycle was bizarre and leading to a real concern I was on the verge of bleeding to death. MRI and cat scan technology was non-existent, so exploratory surgery was the only resort. However, the hospital and insurance plan would not allow exploratory surgery, so some procedure was demanded, namely, tubal ligation. My elderly dr. refused to render me incapable of pregnancy, so I found a very young surgeon who preferred saving lives, not possible future babies. The second surgery wound up being a total hysterectomy with every single organ removed showing pre-cancer cells.
A good dr. makes such a difference, and the oncology department where JtC gets his treatment is ranked the best in the US.
"We'll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false." ---- William Casey, CIA Director, 1981
I, for one...
am glad you made it. I wouldn't have gotten through these last 10 months without your support.
Thank you, sweetheart.
So, let me give you a taste of how
I spoke at age one: "Yelcome!" I haven't actually improved on it that much, but at least your drs. understood and answered my questions.
"We'll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false." ---- William Casey, CIA Director, 1981
Hola, JtC. It's your East Coast GOM
neighbor. otc and I have a digital chat line going.
This is very good news! I'm glad I'm reading it. Many decades ago, I watched and suffered through the trauma of my beloved father fighting and dying of cancer. It took 5 long years. He perished in 1969 at the age of 41. Back then, colorectal was called stomach cancer. He was a top engineer/designer with NASA so the medical bills were covered. Our family was small, but extremely close knit. You can imagine what a emotional catastrophe this was. That's why when you and otc made the announcement, I hopped right on the posting support board. I was rooting for you all the way. 
Glad it helped. High-tech can be a positive at times. Good news is that my late mother, I, and baby sis do not have cancer. So, say hi to your (very special) other half for me. You both stay safe and take care. Rec'd!!
Inner and Outer Space: the Final Frontiers.
Oh, Gawd, yes!
Congrats on the results, and I'm still pulling for you for next Monday.
Doctors, phooey- until you finally find one or more of the good ones. Sounds like you and I have both had the extreme good fortune to run into good ones here recently, when we needed them. I'm really happy to hear how it has been going, and wish you all the best in the world moving forward!
Keep it up!
Twice bitten, permanently shy.