March - The Blue Ribbon Month

      Until recently I never associated March with anything tangible.  To me it seemed that March was neither Winter's Ending nor Spring's Beginning.   Then during one such indifferent March,  events transpired that would forever link my life to this particular month.   Just as Winter fades and Spring arrives,  my old life would be replaced, and a new and uncertain one would begin.   Because it was in March of 2010 when I found out I had Cancer.

     My life did not alter significantly that October of 2009 when I turned 50.   There were no epiphanies, no spiritual revelations.  It was just another annual event.  I never felt "my age".    After Christmas that year however, it was a different story.   I was constantly feeling tired, and losing weight.  I assumed it was something that went along with getting older.  I rationalized these changes by telling myself "it's that age thing", and that's just the way life is.

      Normally I schedule my annual physical around the time of my birthday but in 2009 I didn't  -too busy!   Finally  in February of 2010  I saw my family doctor.  Up to this point in my life the annual physical went something like this:
   
     I show up at the doctor's office,  where my weight and blood pressure  are taken by the nurse.  Then I get to pee into a bottle (not as much fun as it sounds).  Next the doctor examines me,  has me get on the exam table and verifies that my prostate is intact.  I leave the office clutching the form to get my blood checked at a local medical lab.  If there's a problem, the lab will notify the ordering doctor, who, in turn, will notify the patient.  I was 50 years old,  and hadn't been feeling that great.  It came as no surprise when my doctor wanted to see me to discuss the results of my blood tests.

     "Are you a vegetarian?"  is not what I thought he'd say when I returned for my follow-up visit.  My tests had shown low iron.  Extremely low iron.    So low in fact that it would seem I was avoiding any food with a hint of iron, thus my doctor's question to me.  I'm not a vegetarian, but to find out what  was causing this result would require more testing.   My next test would take place not in a lab, but in my own home.

     This time when I left the doctor's office it was with an envelope for the Fecal Occult Blood Test . It's an easy test to perform, requiring about the same skills as say, making a peanut butter sandwich.  (Don't blame me if you are hesitant to open up that new jar of PB after this!)   The kit comes with a special foil pouch designed to be mailed.   I performed the tests.  I mailed the pouch.  I got another call from my doctor...

     Blood in  your stool is never good.  The FOBT test showed microscopic blood from my tests.  It needed to be checked immediately.  In order to find out where this blood is originating another test was required:  the much feared and maligned Colonoscopy.

     The prospect of a Colonoscopy divides people into two groups:  those who are 'afraid', and those that are 'afraid, but not so much'.  If you've never had a Colonoscopy, you are automatically in the 'afraid' category.    However there is a way put you into the 'not so  afraid' group:    Get a Colonoscopy.  After that you can truly say:  "Been there.  Done that.  Got the Johnny Shirt".

   As I would learn during my Colonoscopy  there are roughly three aspects for this process:

 You get cleaned out,

 They  put you out,

 Then go in, and look about.

     And so it was that day in March,  my very first Colonoscopy would show that I had a severely constricted colon.   So constricted that the procedure could not be completed.  So constricted that I would not be able to eat solid foods for weeks.  A tumour was threatening to completely block the colon.    Putting it all together:  extremely low iron, blood in my stool,  and a lemon-sized tumour in me.   I had Colon Cancer.  A biopsy and subsequent CT scans would confirm that it was Stage 4.

     Skip ahead almost four years,  and another March looms in front of me.  This time I write not for myself, but to urge those who are 50 plus to  visit your doctor and discuss how easy it is to get checked.   Or you can be like me and ignore the following warning signs:

• both my parents had died from Cancer
• I experienced dramatic weight loss, fatigue and bowel movement changes
• I could sense that things were 'not quite right', and chose to ignore those feelings.

     If you have a history of Colon Cancer in your family (especially parents or siblings) please make the time to talk to your doctor . 
         
    I was incredibly lucky.  Despite how it may sound when read aloud, Colon Cancer is the Number Two cancer killer.   However there is an astonishing 90% successful treatment rate upon early detection.

     I dedicate this entry to those folks who are willing to  'March down and put their bottoms up' and get screened for  Colon Cancer.   


     One more March connection for me:  I was diagnosed in March of 2010, and was off work for nearly a year while I underwent treatments and procedures.   It was fitting that in March of  2011  I returned to work and resumed my life, hopefully cancer free.  

    March is the officially designated Colon Cancer Awareness Month by the Canadian Cancer Society.  I would like to thank the CCS for providing their  support and dedication.   And also for this cool logo:

Want to know more about Colorectal Cancer?

      For those who may be interested in the details of what I went through, from discovery through treatment, you may want to start at the beginning.

Beginning 2013

    Happy New Year!

January 2013 decided that Winter Shall Be Experienced in Canada and my little city was no exception.  I shoveled snow and glumly watched my heating bills rise all month.  Still the season had its moments, like those still, quiet nights where snow doesn't fall so much as drift down, covering the world in a clean sheet of white.  There's a sense of peacefulness as the falling snow sparkles drifting through the diffused glow of the streetlights.

I began my January with a visit to the Cancer Centre's clinic for blood work.    Even thought I'm no longer receiving treatment (last chemo visit was January of 2011!) I still  need to do this on a quarterly basis.  So far the results of these tests show  nothing adverse or unusual to write about.  This blog is positively boring.   I definitely want to keep it that way (although some might argue that you can't change what already is..)

Three years ago my energy was waning, my weight was dropping and I was being engulfed by Cancer.  Now I am in the second month of my Cholesterol medication (Crestor) and attempting to correct the Winter Eating Everything Excesses mode we seem to go through.  I can't afford to treat this as 'mundane' any more than I could the tumour that was growing inside me back then.  To that end I've been attempting to get to sleep earlier (easy to do: I'm Tired), and while it's been too darn cold to walk, I still walk when I can.   And then there's the exercise bike.

I like bike riding, so when it was suggested that perhaps a stationary exercise bike could be used in lieu of retrofitting skis to my existing bikes, I thought "why not?"
Exercise bikes come in all shapes, forms, sizes and capabilities.  They all have one thing in common: their assembly instructions require a Masters degree in Mechanical Engineering and the patience of a Buddhist Monk.  Perseverance, frequent consultation to the "instructions", deep breathing and less than 24 hours after unpacking the box an exercise bike was ready for a spin!

Exercise bikes are not as comfortable as my road bike.  Or my mountain bike.  Mostly because those are sized for me, and my riding position is not as upright as that forced upon me by the stationary bike.  The ergonomics are not the same, but I ride it for about 25 minutes.  The bike features an lcd console which shows distance travelled, speed, and heart rate.   I don't need a panel to tell me I'm doing work, the sweat and tired leg muscles know that already.  The bike is kind of cramped, but it serves to get me off the couch.  Now maybe it they made a bike that was couch-shaped...

January would also see me trundling off to a local library to volunteer with chess tournaments for kids.  Volunteering in things that I've never done before gets me out of my comfort zone.  Winter is too easy to settle in mentally and physically.  While I'm not a novice chess player, I had never really participated in the organizational aspects of *anything* unrelated to my workplace and career.   Set up a Wide Area Network between remote offices, no problem. Assist in data migration from an acquisition, routine.  Dealing with dozens of small children playing Chess makes me think fondly of the serenity associated with assembling Exercise bikes.

For the most part the kids tolerated me (actually they pretty much ignore me, except to report scores and wait for the medals to be handed out) and I didn't  muck things up too badly.  I suspect that as long as I only double the workload of the organizer I'll be asked to hang around for future tournaments.

So January passed with the tempests of the season roaring in.  Tempests do not last forever, the cold days will warm up.  Already the sun is seems to be hanging around a little longer, the promise of Spring will be here before I know it.  My life is one of unfinished projects at work and personally.  But no cancer.  If I made New Years resolutions it would be to live my life without worrying about 'what if', and think more about 'what now'.