March -Colon Cancer Awareness Month

      By now even those who casually read my scattered musings will have surmised that I had and been treated for Colon Cancer.   I just finished treatment in January, and I will need to undergo "routine" tests every three months for the next three years.  Should any of those tests return less-than-favourable results, I will go for more tests, some which might be construed as 'unpleasant'.

    What is unpleasant is relative; my surgery was unpleasant compared to the process of undergoing a Colonoscopy.   My chemotherapy was way more unpleasant (and far more frequent) than a Colonoscopy.   That whole 'death by Cancer' prospect also seems way more unpleasant than a Colonoscopy.  Frankly, I wish I would have had my Colonoscopy three years earlier; especially given my family history of cancer.

     March is designated as Colon Cancer Awareness Month.  That means lots of juvenile humour about Colonoscopy's.  Butt (pun intended) to put this in perspective, the actual Colonscopy process requires three things from the victim patient:   Drink some stuff.  Poop.  Sleep.  The first two steps mean you have to stay home and maybe watch tv.  It's tough, but you can find a way to do it.  The last step takes place in the hospital, where they give you DRUGS to sleep.  Not so scary after all.

    What is scary is the possibility of Cancer.  What I think is even more scary of course is not knowing you have cancer til it's too late.   If you have a family history of Colon cancer (or indeed any cancer), if you are "around" age 50, if you have experienced fatigue and unexplained weight loss, strange back or abdominal pains...get checked.   Get checked even if you haven't any symptoms.  It can save your life. 

   Finally for those of you still squeamish about the procedure, I invite you to read humourist Dave Barry's article about his experience with his first-ever Colonoscopy:    Dave Barry's Colonoscopy

   And yes, I have another Colonsocopy scheduled for mid-April, and after what I've gone through this past year, it's not so scary anymore.  

Turning the corner

     February is spent, winter's icy hand has buried us in snow the likes we have not seen in more than a decade.  The upside it gets me out of the house and shoveling, and that constitutes exercise.  I don't mind Winter, it's the prolonged sameness that wearies me.   Winter is snow. And more snow.   And more monotonous snow.   Even work is more exciting than Winter.  Speaking of work..

    My official return date will be March 21st, 2011, basically one week shy of  a full year since I've been off.   The plan is to return to work on a part-time basis four hours per day, with the resumption of full time hours by  May 1st.  I wonder if they'll let me keep my nap time hours between two and four PM?

     Returning to work should signify my return to health; a resumption of normality.  My family and friends (and yes, even my coworkers) are thrilled at this prospect.  However I find that I do not share the same degree of elation as my friends.  It requires a five-year clean bill-of-health to be declared 'cancer free', from that viewpoint I'm only 20 per cent completed.  I've expended so much of my energy fighting this disease that it's hard to shift focus, to step down and re-orient myself to the larger world.  Cancer was the centerpiece of my life for one year, and it defined who I was.  Now I need to become myself once more, but perhaps a bit more appreciative of the gift of life and what it offers.

   Life is getting better, the winter blahs are almost over, the days are brighter and the promise of spring, as always, is  the promise of Hope.