Beating My Cancer

One Year after a Cancer Diagnosis

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 23:21:00 -0500

Today was sort of a surreal day for me. Exactly one year ago today, I was sitting in the ambulatory surgery center at Weill-Cornell Medical Center waiting for an orchiectomy. This was after a whirlwind diagnosis between Christmas and New Year’s, where I went from having a little back pain to finding out I had cancer. And exactly one year ago today, I learned that the cancer had spread and I would need additional treatment.

I’m still trying to get my head around everything that happened. While it’s obviously had a permanent impact on my life, it is also very weird to think that this all happened within the past 12 months. Maybe it was just the way I’ve been dealing with it, but it feels like the distant past to me now.

What was perhaps even more surreal, however, was the fact – exactly one year later – I spent all morning at Weill-Cornell Medical Center going through nearly the same battery of tests. This year, the CAT scan and blood tests showed nothing and my appointment with Dr. Scherr was decidedly more positive. Of course, simply spending a few hours in the hospital – especially on the anniversary of such a fateful day – brings with it a wave and range of emotions that was difficult for me to fully comprehend. I have been simultaneously angry and grateful and nervous and relieved and relaxed and terrified today.

On the whole, I feel absolutely wonderful. I’m in better shape now than I have been in years – of course, working Equinox will help with that. There are still some lingering side effects from the surgery and chemotherapy - the most notable of which is neuropathy, which basically means occasional numbness and tingling in my feet and arms, cramping in my legs, and related complications – but overall I have very little to complain about.

I’ve talked a lot in the past about how adversity figures in and how this experience has made me a stronger person – but I decided I also want to be able to say that literally. After turning 30 and beating cancer, I decided a good goal was to beat my personal bests in weightlifting. So, consider this my public commitment - by the end of this year, I will either do a single rep of 550 lbs or do 35 reps of 225 lbs. I’ve only started lifting heavy again in recent weeks, but I think this is something I can do… and I will literally be able to say I cam out of this thing stronger.

(Cross-posted from tmarman.com)

My First Haircut and the Journey to Normalcy

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 21:02:44 -0500

The experience of the past seven months has caused me to subconsciously divide my life into my own personal eras: “B.C.” (Before Cancer) and “A.D.” (After Diagnosis). Somehow, the seven months I’ve had so far in the A.D. period seem like forever compared to the 29 years I had in the B.C. period.

At the same time, there are these little milestones and victories that suddenly take on new importance in the A.D. world. I had such a milestone today: my first haircut since before Christmas last year.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s really such an insignificant event – I’ve had several hundred haircuts in my life to this point and will hopefully have thousands more. That said, in some small but important way, it feels like a huge step in my journey back to normalcy. And normalcy feels really good right now.

Ally needs your help to raise money for the American Cancer Society

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 11:53:48 -0500

As I mentioned recently, my sister is running the NYC Half-Marathon in part to raise money for the American Cancer Society. She has raised almost $1,100 to this point – more than the minimum to run – but would still like to reach her goal of $2,500.

The American Cancer Society is dedicated to eliminating cancer through research, education, advocacy and by providing services directly to families affected by cancer. It is also one of the most efficient and influential non-profit organizations on both a national and international scale.

I know many of you have already donated, but if you haven’t we would greatly appreciate your help. You can read Ally’s reasons for running here and – if you’re so inclined - make a donation. Any amount – even $5 or $10 – will help and your donation is of course tax deductible.

You may have also noticed that I’ve added Google ads to this site. We probably won’t make much given the relatively modest traffic here, but I will be donating all ad revenue to Ally’s run (in addition to the donation Tara and I made already).

If there are any organizations out there interested in sponsoring her race (for ad space or otherwise), please let me know and I’ll put you in touch.

Well, if nothing else at least I set a world record!

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 01:27:22 -0500

While the best news was finding out that I’m cancer free, I was still pretty psyched that I was able to set a world record as a result.

CANCER FREE

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 16:29:27 -0500

I just got home from my post-op follow up with Dr. Scherr where I got some really great news: I am now officially cancer-free. They took out 43 lymph nodes total, all of which came back negative for metastatic carcinoma. I need to follow up with Dr. Scherr in 3 months for continued monitoring, but as of now I am completely done with treatment!

I also had the 54 staples removed; it was unpleasant but not terribly painful, except for the one troublemaker that they had to call in reinforcements to get out. That said, getting the good news first definitely made this process a little easier!

So, now I just need to focus on recovering from the surgery and hopefully life can get back to normal soon.

Support my sister as she runs for the American Cancer Society

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 13:08:00 -0500

My sister Ally is running the NYC Half-Marathon to raise money for the American Cancer Society.

Her goal is to raise $2,500 – of which she’s raised $345 so far. Every little bit helps – so if you’re so inclined, please support her as she raises money to help fight this awful disease.

Surgery and the Hospital Stay

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 15:13:06 -0500

So, I had the RPLND surgery last Thursday. I’m home now recovering, but figured my tweets tell the story best.

On my way to the hospital sporting my @adaptiveblue shirt and @reprisemedia hat. Need @notches boxers (5:26 AM Jun 4th)
Resting comfortably - the morphine helps. Finally got a room/bed after 5 hrs waiting in recovery on the stretcher. Soooo thirsty but can’t drink yet (8:29 PM Jun 4th)
Fitful sleeping even with morphine and ambien. Oscillating between discomfort & pain. (2:33 AM Jun 5th)
Dr Scherr said surgery went well. Will have pathology report next week (2:34 AM Jun 5th)
According to my doctor, today's gameplan is to walk and to try to fart. If I fart I can start drinking. Go Farts! (7:30 AM Jun 5th )
The hospital lets you buy cable for 10$/day. They SHOULD allow you to pay more to keep you roommate from using it. I would pay anything not to listen to any more Tele-fucking-Mundo (10:12 AM Jun 8th)
Sad moment - they took out my epidural, so no more pain button. On the positive side this means the catheter will come out soon too (10:33 AM Jun 8th)
I am moving on to solid food today - and after 2 Percocets and no food for a week they expect me to set my menu for the next 3 days? WTF (8:20 AM Jun 9th)
Rumor has it they're letting me out tomorrow, though I'm still not entirely convinced that's a great idea. But it will be nice to get home (9:33 PM Jun 9th)
I have walked past the burn unit 100x during my stay here and still get very emotional reading the wall of cards to sept 11 victims (12:35 AM Jun 10th)
When selling you on the benefits of the epidural they don't tell you about the dark side of the pain btn: the catheter (12:47 AM Jun 10th)
It's kind of trippy listening to my new roommate go through and be told all the things I heard a week ago (9:50 AM Jun 10th)
... Especially since I was so drugged up when I first heard it. (10:04 AM Jun 10th)
I felt like offering my own advice but to paraphrase Office Space, let's pretend I can't hear through the curtain (10:08 AM Jun 10th)
Discharged from the hospital and en route to Brooklyn with percoset in hand. Can't wait to shower and sleep in my own bed (4:41 PM Jun 10th)
Three words: "hooray for percoset" (7:14 PM Jun 10th)
After a week of sponge baths and baby wipes, it felt amazing to take a proper shower. As an added bonus, I used shampoo for the first time in 4 months (9:38 PM Jun 10th)

Each day is a little easier than the last. There’s been less “pain” per se compared to the first operation – getting in and out of bed is a little easier – it’s just a higher level of general discomfort. Each day is a little better than the last. I can even lie on my side now without too much pain.

I have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Scherr on Tuesday at which time I’ll get the pathology report and have the 54 staples removed, some of which can be seen in this photo along with the bruising on my stomach. As you can see, they literally go around the belly button. (I decided to make you click through instead of posting directly in the post for those who are a bit more squeamish. Consider yourself warned!).

Thanks for the love and support

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 07:30:32 -0500

I can’t even begin to tell you how important the love and support from friends and family has been throughout this process. I’ve tried to respond to everyone, but the outpouring of support really means a lot.

To that end, I recently got a touching email from Mike - a good friend from college and former colleague who spent the past year teaching down in Ecuador - that I felt compelled to share here.

Tim,

I want to wish you the best of luck next week, and let you know you have a good group of kids praying for you in Quito. I look forward to seeing you when I get back.

Be well,
Mike

Post-Chemo Update

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Wed, 27 May 2009 23:53:00 -0500

Sorry – this update is well overdue.

Finishing Chemo

As I mentioned in the previous update, I had what is hopefully my last day of chemotherapy a little more than a month ago. Chemo is a cumulative thing and it definitely caught up with me in the end. I was sick for the first time the Monday after the final cycle, and it took a full week and a half before I really started to recover. On the whole I felt pretty good after a few days, but I would sometime have periods of time where I would feel as bad as I did during the whole process. I would just hit the proverbial wall and it took about 2 full weeks before I got past that.

In any case, I feel pretty damn good right now. I started going to the gym about 2 weeks ago at full speed (though admittedly that is a bit less after 6 months of virtually no physical activity). And, perhaps most importantly, my hair is starting to grow again. My eyebrows have fully grown back in, my facial hair is growing more consistently, and I have a hairline now.

So, now what?

My latest CT scan showed virtually no reduction in the size of the lymph nodes from the previous scan.

Basically, at this point, this can mean one of three: 1) there's scar tissue (about 45% chance), 2) there are teratomas (about 40% chance), or 3) there is still viable cancer (about 15% chance). Scar tissue is no big deal. A teratoma is basically a mutation of the cancer cells; though not malignant in and of itself, it must be removed because it can grow and cause problems including turning into late stage muscle cancers. And, obviously, viable cancer cells must be removed. Since there was virtually no reduction in size after the last two cycles, Dr. Nanus feels it's even less likely that I still have cancer - but, unfortunately, there's no way to tell what is in there without surgery.

So, I’m going in for Retroperitoneal Lymph Node Dissection (RPLND) on June 4th. The procedure itself is pretty intensive, taking about 6 hours. As one site puts it:

In a nut shell, the RPLND involves an incision from just below your sternum to below the belly button (but they do go around it!). Your intestines and associated organs are literally lifted out of the way, nerves are identified and hopefully moved out of the way, and then the surgeons remove all the lymph nodes that were connected to the testicle containing the tumor.

The surgery is "complicated and delicate" and "few doctors do more than a couple of these surgeries a year". I am very fortunate to have a surgeon like Dr. Scherr who is one of the leading surgeons in this area and and does several of these per month. In other words, I’m in very good hands.

After surgery, I will be in the hospital for 5-7 nights. I've been told that the recovery is actually less painful than the orchiectomy since no muscle is cut; we'll see. But, because it's such a delicate procedure, there are a lot of potential complications, so they want to keep a close eye on me the first week. I will be on a liquid diet that first week - one of the side effects is "temporary paralysis" of the intestines and bowels. (ounds like fun). These lymph nodes are also apparently responsible for processing lipids, so I will be on a non-fat (or, at least, super-super-low-fat) diet for 6 weeks after the hospital stay.

I was told that if I eat fatty foods, it can cause the seals on the removed nodes to burst at which point “I will need to have a drain installed” to remove the lymphatic fluid. Suffice it to say that I don't need too much detail on what “having a drain installed” means to know that I won't be cheating on this diet.

If anyone wants to visit, I’d love to see you. I’ll be at NYPH (Weill-Cornell) on 68th and York, though I'm not sure yet what floor or room. I will try to post more details when I know them depending on how much connectivity (and coherence) I have. I'll try to let you know when I've been playing with the pain button, because that will surely be the most entertaining time to see me.

My last day of chemotherapy

tim.nospam@nospam.marman.org (tim) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 07:58:42 -0500

Well, assuming no further complications, today is my last day of chemotherapy.

It couldn't have come at better time – the treatment has definitely been taking its toll, as you can see. For those of you who wanted evidence of my baldness, here you go. This week has been tough so far, but at least there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The symptoms that usually hit me at the end of the cycle started much earlier in the week. My appetite has dropped to next to nothing – I have a light breakfast in the morning and pretty much don't eat for the rest of the day. I spend most of the day sleeping - I nap through treatment and sleep pretty much from the time I get home at 2-3pm through 6:30 the next morning.

Beyond that, I'm definitely looking forward to putting this chapter of my treatment behind me. I know there's still a big hurdle in front of me with the pending surgery, but the chemo definitely weighs on you both mentally and physically. It will be nice to actually be able think straight again, and be able to go out in public without worrying about a depleted immune system.