“I’m healthy!” That’s what I said when I ran into Val, one of my oncology nurses, today. After last year, it’s nice to run into people from the hospital and be able to tell and show them that you made it through. Of course, while completely true, there is a little more to it than that.
We’ve been preoccupied the past few weeks, so this update comes after a delay, but we recently made the trek back to Mayo to make sure I’m still cancer-free, and in that regard, everything looks great.« Read the rest
At this time one year ago, I was sitting with my wife in the oncologist’s office, having just found out my testicular cancer had spread upwards before they got to it. We had been rushed down there so we could get the process rolling to begin chemo.
The events at that point were a little blurry. You’re trying to process the news you’ve just been given, the vast uncertainties of what is to come, what’s going to happen with work (it was crunch time at that moment), and a million other thoughts spinning around your brain, when the doctor comes in to talk about things, of which you’ll promptly forget most of.« Read the rest
Long time, no blog post. Sorry about that! We have been very busy the last couple of months. And are actually back at Mayo as I write this. Let me catch you up!
After Shawn’s [8.5 hour] surgery, he spent 5 days in the Mayo Clinic Hospital. He has a gnarly 18-inch scar, about 39 fewer lymph nodes, and a story to tell! Shawn’s recovery went shockingly well. He didn’t have any complications post surgery and was able to manage his pain really well from the get-go.« Read the rest
This has been a challenging year. I never imagined I’d have to deal with cancer, yet here I am getting ready to return to work next week. It’s a little cliche to do a generic thankful post on Thanksgiving like everyone else, but I’m doing it anyway. Here are some of my thanks from trials this year.« Read the rest
It’s been a long year, and I’m tired, of everything. When the cancer bomb dropped back in April it was VERY optimistic of me to think I could be back at work in 3 months. After surgery, my wife noted that she hadn’t realized just how much chemo took everything out of me until I had started acting more like myself these past few weeks, a good 10 weeks after my last chemo treatment. It does seem as though we are actually getting to the light at the end of the tunnel, with one of our doctors at Mayo telling us those wonderful words: “You are in remission.” Which is to say, you are cured, the cancer is gone, but we are going to closely watch you because it could come back.« Read the rest