365 Days

March 24. Before last year, that was just another day on the calendar to me. But ever since March, 24, 2009, my life has been different. It was exactly one year ago today that I was diagnosed with rectal cancer. This is not necessarily a celebration like a birthday, but rather a commemoration of where I was last year, what I went through in the past year, and where I am now. I am blessed and fortunate to be as healthy as I am, but I won't take anything for granted, not after the past year.

To look back a little, in mid-March of last year, Cyndy and I drove out to Missouri to attend the funeral of one of her uncles. As we approached the church for the service, my brakes started smoking so I dropped Cyndy off and went looking for a repair shop. For the rest of that Saturday afternoon and a portion of Sunday morning, I spent in the waiting area of the Firestone shop. I remember having to use the bathroom about every hour (part of the symptoms I had been having for months which I had ignored). I would try to be unobtrusive about it, as I didn't want anybody there to notice I was going so often.

When we got home, I noticed for the first time some blood in my stool. At this point I was finally concerned enough to call my doctor to set up an appointment. I went to see Dr. Beusse on a Tuesday and he could tell after a quick "manual exam" that I had a problem in my rectum. He immediately referred me to a gastroenterologist for a visit. I made the appointment and saw Dr. Kasinski on Thursday. I found out later that Dr. Beusse had called Dr. Kasinski to make sure that I made and kept my appointment because he was concerned about what my problem was. Dr. Kasinski, after his "manual exam" of me, said matter-of-factly, "You need a colonoscopy immediately." He wanted it for Saturday but that couldn't be arranged so the best I could do was the following Tuesday, March 24.

I was 56 at the time and had never had a colonoscopy before. I had often heard that everyone should have one when they turn 50, but I had ignored that advice. I had thought that no one on either side of my family (that I knew of anyway, and most certainly no one close to me) had ever had any type of cancer and I had always been a very healthy person who passed every health test with flying colors so I figured I had nothing to worry about. Plus, the whole process of the colonoscopy sounded very unpleasant. And I had never heard any good things about the day of preparation and cleansing the day before. I remember hearing the news when President Bush had his colonoscopy and was going to be unconscious for awhile, such that Vice President Cheney was sort of an "acting President" during the procedure. All in all, I figured "I'm safe" and this whole thing can wait. Well, by March 24, 2009, it couldn't wait any longer.

The prep day was as unpleasant as I imagined. Everyone said it was worse than the procedure and I would concur. But as I prepared for the colonoscopy on Tuesday, while a cancer diagnosis was not the furthest thing from my mind, it certainly seemed like only a remote possibility. I remember thinking that maybe I had hemorrhoids or just some infected tissue or something like that. I was not totally knocked out for the procedure but rather was put in "twilight" so I was actually vaguely aware of my surroundings. Before I knew it, it was over. Then I waited for the results. Dr. Kasinski showed me the color images of my colon and the cancerous tumor was unmistakable and unavoidable to notice. "You have rectal cancer," he told me, a sentence containing a word I thought I would never hear about myself in my life. The two worst moments in this past year were the day I heard Dr. Kasinski tell me that and later when Dr. Ondrula told me I would need a permanent colostomy bag. After surviving those pieces of news, I took the attitude that no news I could hear about my situation (short of the dreaded "You have X to live") could be any worse than what I heard on either of those days so I wasn't going to let anything else phase me.

I'll never forget Dr. Ondrula's words to me when I asked him upon a visit what I could do about this. He said, "Two things. One, be on time for all of your doctor's appointments. And two, do everything we say." I followed that advice all year and it served me well. When I hear of other colorectal cancer patients who did not follow those words and see the negative results of that decision, I am reminded of the wisdom of that advice.

Now for a quick synopsis of the year's events:

• On April 15 I had a mediport implanted in my chest into which my chemotherapy would be fed.
• Shortly thereafter began 5 weeks of radiation and chemotherapy. On Monday through Friday of each week I received daily radiation treatments (like an x-ray - I didn't feel a thing). On Monday of each week I would receive my two chemo drugs and get connected to a pump which was in a fanny pack that I would wear around my waist. The pump pumped in the 5FU drug for 96 hours. The leucovourin had been delivered through an IV on Monday. Then on Friday I would go back to get disconnected. The purpose of both was simply to reduce the size of the tumor, which Dr. Kasinski had estimated had been within for a couple of years.
• After the five weeks of treatment, I had five weeks off (during which time we went down to visit my son Brian and his family in Florida).
• Then on June 24 (that 24th date became big in this process), I had major surgery to (1) remove the remaining tumor (which had been reduced in size by 90%) and (2) shorten my colon by creating a stoma which would protrude from my abdomen and would now serve as my "rectum" for the rest of my life.
• Beginning in July I received more chemo treatment - the same two drugs I had before. I would repeat the Monday through Friday schedule but only for one week a month for four months.
• I thought I was done on Oct. 23 when I completed my fourth and last cycle. But on a subsequent visit to Dr. Ondrula, he noticed on my chart that I had not been given a third drug, oxiliplatin, in my post-op treatment as he had expected. He talked to my oncologist Dr. Y who agreed that this should be done. So I began a new "chemo cycle" of Monday through Wednesday treatment. I would have the same two drugs I had before (but only 46 hours of 5FU instead of 96), but I would have a 2½ hour IV feeding of the oxiliplatin on Monday. This would occur every two weeks for a total of six separate cycles.
• The oxiliplatin brought about several undesirable side effects that I had to deal with, the worst of which were extreme sensitivity to cold in my hands and feet and relatedly, an awful change in my taste for any food or drink that was cold. So I ate and drank a lot of lukewarm foods and liquids for nearly three months. Finally on Feb. 10, I was disconnected for the last time.
• In time all of the bad side effects went away (thank goodness!). I still need to go back to the oncologist's every 6 weeks or so to have my mediport flushed out, a necessary evil to keeping that in. Dr. Ondrula wants me to keep it in for at least 2 years just in case any cancer returns. Then it would be easy to start chemo treatments again. He says that studies show that over 70% of the time, if cancer returns, it does so in the first two years so he's just trying to help me beat the odds, or at least better deal with them if the worst occurs.

That brings us to the present. I feel fine now. I'm certainly used to the colostomy bag (talk about a necessary evil!), though I try not to think ahead to all the years I'll need to use it. I treat it as if I had diabetes and needed daily insulin shots. You take a few minutes each day to do what you need to do, then go about your normal day. I am thankful for excellent insurance coverage which, among other things, covers the over $400 a month it costs for my ostomy supplies. And I'll need these the rest of my life so here's hoping the new health care law benefits me there years down the road.

It's been quite a year, quite a trip. I would never wish what I have gone through on anybody, though I know millions go through it each year, and even worse than I did. But given where I am now compared to where I was a year ago today, I realize how truly blessed by God I have been for this could have been a lot worse. From Day 1 my doctors spoke matter-of-factly on what would occur, that it would be taken care of, and that my life would continue as normally as it could. And that certainly has happened. But I know that none of this was automatic and it certainly was possible for things to have turned out much worse, maybe even fatal. If I had continued to ignore my symptoms, such as the blood in my stool, there's no telling how bad the results and my prognosis might have been. But none of that happened and for that I thank God, the wonderful doctors I had, and Dr. Beusse, who referred me to them.

And last but not least I want to thank my family and friends who supported me throughout this whole year. Special thanks that I could never repay go to Cyndy who was there every step of the way, attending practically every doctor visit I had, acting as another set of ears to hear the doctor's words, to keep a book of records of every visit, and to prod me along to get me to do everything I had to do and take during the year (remember, do everything the doctors say). I won't forget how hard Cyndy drove me when I was home in recovery and the easiest thing was to lie on my back, because sitting up caused a lot of pain and walking was difficult. But the doctors said I needed to sit up and walk as much and as soon as I could afterward for my own good. And she drove to do that even when I didn't want to.

And thanks also go to my son Scott, who lives with us with his family, and all the chores he has done around the house when I couldn't. And to his daughters Kailey and Tatum (Nurse Kailey and Nurse Tatum), who helped nurse me back to health during my recovery by doing things for me, getting things for me, and walking around the neighborhood with me to help in my recovery process. Out of many small things, great wonders can be achieved.

So what have I done to deserve this? Not enough, I'm sure. All I can say is that God is telling me He isn't done with me yet. That makes it imperative upon me to make the most of the remaining years I have, especially while I still can do things and be productive. Maybe my main purpose now is to work as a cancer volunteer to encourage others who should to get their colonoscopies. Maybe I will share my story with others on how positive these things can turn out to be. And how it helps to have a positive attitude from the outset to help you get through the lowest moments.

Sometimes life takes turns you weren't expecting and this was certainly one of them for me. But I have made it through one year and I have all the hope and expectations in the world that through the grace of God, I will enjoy many more years on this Earth. Just with a little different perspective on life, that's all. Don't take things for granted. Live each day as full as you can because each one is a gift from God. Can I repay my Heavenly Father for the gifts I have been given? Of course not. But as I have tried to be throughout my life, I still want to be God's tool in doing whatever it is that He has planned for me.

I know this has been long, but it has been a long year. If you made it through to here, thanks for your indulgence - and for your love and support. It made all the difference!