Prep for Surgery!
After taking a few hours to let the news sink in, I decided to become a little proactive and begin my preparations for surgery and what might come next. I reached out to my best friend from college to see if he was available for a quick talk. You see his wedding was coming up in just a couple of weeks and I was to one of his groomsman. So I had to break it to him that I might not be there for his big day. Not only did I want to be there for one of my closest friends on one of the biggest days of his life, but this was also the first wedding I was asked to be in the wedding party. I was starting to feel like a bad friend that I might not be able to make it. I understand that my situation was a very special case and that anyone would understand if I couldn’t be there, but I still couldn’t help feeling guilty. It didn’t help that exactly one week after his wedding, I was in another one of my closest friend’s wedding, and the day after that Shannon was in one of her closest friends wedding. So it was a very busy time and quite a inconvenient time to get testicular cancer, not that there ever really is a convenient time to get cancer.
Once I got him on the phone, I explained the situation to him, and he didn’t really know how to process it at first. He thought I might have been messing with him, I assured him I was not. Once he got over his disbelief, he told me not to worry about making it to the wedding.
“Take care of yourself bro, your health comes first. If anything we’ll get a cardboard cut out of you so you’ll still be at the wedding.”
I didn’t expect anything less than this. I knew he was going to say something along the lines of that, but it did make me feel better to hear it out loud. He told me to let him know if I needed anything and that he was there for me. After we were done it was on to the next groom to be. I figured since my closest group of friends were all going to be in this next wedding, it would be easier to send out a group text to all of them at once and inform them of what was going on with me. Again, I was feeling guilty of the possibility of missing another close friend of mine’s wedding. Just like before I got an overwhelming amount of support from my friends, which I knew would happen again, but it still comforted me knowing that they were all there to support me.
After informing my best friends, my grandparents reached out to me. For my family members who will read this, you know how my grandfather can be, and for those who don’t know him. Well, lets just say he can be strongly opinionated and set in his ways. He informed me that I should be looking to get second opinions and doing my research before letting them perform surgery on me.
“If it were me, I wouldn’t let them take my nut without getting some second opinions or doing research. Go on Dana Farber and look it up. I’ll call you back in a few hours to find out what you learned.”
I knew it was out of love and concern, but that’s when I started noticing a change. This change was internal, and it wasn’t a good change. I found myself irritated. I let it go though, and did as he asked. I found out on Dana Farber’s website, that it was a common practice to removed the testicle when cancer is thought to be present. It is too risky to perform a biopsy before removing the testicle because the threat of spreading is increased. So the biopsy is done after the testicle is removed.
Later that night, when Shannon and I were sitting on the couch relaxing and trying to unwind from the stressful day we had, I got a phone call from my dad. This phone call was how this blog opened up, so if you need a reminder you can refer back to “Happier Days.” Like I said earlier, this moment was the hardest for me. I mean hearing your father cry is never easy, my father has always been a beacon of strength. No matter how hard things would get for us, he was steadfast and tenacious. He never broke and I always admired that quality. So now when my health was in question, my father finally broke. That’s when I truly realized how far a parent’s love goes. Sure my brother and I have had our fair share of injuries growing up, but we’ve never had major health issues, and we’ve definitely never had cancer before. So I’m sure its terrifying to have to watch your child go through something like that knowing you can’t do anything to help. I reassured my father that I would be okay, and that I will get through this and everything will be okay.
The next day I began trying to get my “rushed CT scan” scheduled. Trying to do this at work proved to be quite difficult because I would get busy and trying to make time for some phone calls wasn’t viable. Especially since I would have to end up making many, many, many calls. I called the urologist’s office around 10:30 am to see if my insurance approved the CT scan. I was told that they hadn’t received anything yet and to give my insurance a call to see when they would approve it. I called my insurance next, and was placed on hold. After some time passed I had to give up and get back into work. I called back a little after 12:30 pm and got ahold of someone. They told me with my insurance policy that there was no approval needed and that I would have no issues. So I called the urologist’s office back and informed them. They said they still hadn’t received anything back from the hospital and would send over the paper work to them again to get this scheduled. They told me to call back before 5 pm to get it scheduled. So I did exactly what they said and called around 4 pm, still nothing. They said call around 10 am the next morning. The next morning I start all over again, calling the urologist’s, nothing. Wait, call again, nothing. Eventually I decided to call the hospital and see what’s the hold up. They told me they hadn’t received anything from the urologist’s office, which was weird because they did a lot of scheduling with them. I call the urologist back, still nothing. I wait some more, and call them back again, this time they tell me they had been sending it to the wrong number, and this time they got the right number. They told me to call back before 5 pm again. They actually called me back, finally ready to schedule a CT scan for me. They tell me the earliest appointment they have is October 2nd. So much for the “rushed” part of “rushed CT scan.” I accept it, with the plan to call a couple of times a day in order to see if there have been any cancellations that I could slip into.
The next day, Friday September 24th, I decided to put my plan into action, and I began calling to see if anyone had cancelled their appointment. They hadn’t. I didn’t get discouraged, I planned to keep at it until I got an appointment. Much to my surprise, my urologist called me later that night. He told me he wasn’t comfortable with waiting that long to get a CT scan, and that he was going to send some emails out that night and on Monday he was going to make some phone calls in order to pull some strings. A wave of relief came over me. It felt nice to have a win like this, especially after the last couple of days being stressful with trying to get this appointment scheduled.
Monday comes, and I wasn’t expecting to hear anything for a couple of days, so I did my best to get back into my routine. Around 8 am my phone starts to ring; I answer it and it was the secretary from my urologist’s office. She asked me what time would work best for me to try and get an appointment for that day. I tell her that any time works, but I’m at work down in Providence, which is an hour away so I would need at least an hour’s notice before so I can get there on time. She tells me that’s no problem and she’ll call me back. After an hour or so she calls me back and tells me I have an appointment at 1:20 pm. I inform work, Shannon, and my family about the good news. When the time comes, I leave work and head to my appointment.
I meet Shannon at the hospital, and once we’re checked in we wait about an hour until my name is called. I couldn’t complain though, I was just grateful to be there and to being seen so soon. I’m lead to a small waiting room outside of the CT scan room and I’m given an IV for when they inject the imaging dye into my body. As I’m sitting there waiting, I start observing the other patients coming and going, and I realize that my situation isn’t all that bad. Sure, I have cancer, but it could always be worse. A man who looked like he was in a car accident was rushed through, and then an elderly woman was laying on a hospital bed shivering and telling the nurse about the pain in her abdomen. She looked so frail and hopeless, and it made me realize that we can’t take life for granted because we never truly know how long we have here.
Once I’m taken into the room, the inject the dye and tell me that I’m going to feel warm and it’ll feel like I’ll have to pee, but not to worry because I won’t pee myself. I tell here it’s a good thing I just went to the bathroom, so I really don’t have to worry about it. She has me lay down on the table and put my shoulders on this pillow. Before the send me into the donut shaped machine, I’m directed to put my arms over my head. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but since I’m propped up on a pillow my arms are hovering above the table by a good 6 inches, so it starts to feel like a workout and I’ve got to stay still in this position for at least 15 minutes. Once I’m in the donut, my arms are hitting the top and are being pushed down even further, it’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic. Eventually its all over, and I’m told that once the results are in I’ll hear from my doctor.
That night I get a phone call from my urologist, and he begins going over what they saw in the CT scan images. He says there’s no signs of the cancer spreading, which is always a good sign. The lymph nodes in my abdomen were slightly enlarged, but not large enough to warrant concern, but we’ll keep an eye on them to make sure they stay that way. They found a fatty mass in my chest, but it doesn’t look like it’s anything too serious and to maybe have a follow-up with my primary care physician about it. By the end of the conversation, we get my surgery scheduled for October 4th. I feel some relief with this date, because that means I’ll be able to make one wedding for sure, and that’ll leave the others questionable.
This is one of the many images from my CT scan, here you can see the size difference between the right (cancer) and left (normal) and how it would cause much discomfort.
I go about the rest of the week as normal, just glad I’m not living on phone talking to medical professionals for the time being. Thursday, September 30th arrives, and Shannon and I head up to Boston for my friend’s rehearsal dinner. We have good time celebrating with some old friends and we met some new ones. Before leaving I was able to sneak a moment with my friend, and to my complete and utter surprise, he started crying while we were talking. I’m sure he was just extra emotional because his big day was the next day, but he just wanted to let me know how much he appreciated me being able to be there in light of everything going on. I give him a big hug and I let him know I’m doing good, and I’ll be fine. The next day we head back into Boston and celebrate their wedding. It was an absolutely beautiful wedding and we had so much fun, and we were happy to be a part of their day.
I wake up Monday morning slightly irritated because I had a later surgery and I couldn’t eat or drink all day, but I found some ways to keep myself occupied. Shannon drops me off at the hospital and tells me she’ll be back to pick me up once I’m out. They take me to the operation room waiting area and get me all prepared. I go through my pre surgery meetings with no issues. Getting my IV was not so easy. The veins in my hands did not want to cooperate and rejected the IVs. I was okay with this because they are much more painful in the hands then in the arm. Eventually my urologist arrives and we go over some last minute items before he begins the operation. I take this time to ask about prosthetic testicles, not that I wanted one, but more out of curiosity because I came across them when doing some of my own research.
“No, I don’t do prosthetics. They don’t look or feel natural. Its also more for aesthetics for younger men.”
He leaves to get prepared, and then a few moments later I’m surrounded, and my bed starts to move. I get lowered flat, and then the anesthesia is administered. I remember going through the double doors and looking up at the light. Then everything goes black.