It appears my cancer journey is in the rear view mirror.  The voice in my head said it would be good to write down some thoughts about the journey.  So this is that. 

There are three terms used to describe people who have had cancer: “a person with cancer”, “cancer survivor” or “cancer victim”.   Have it, had it or died from it.  My current status is cancer survivor.  

I’m feeling really good.  Extensive testing has found no evidence of cancer since my last surgery seventeen months ago.  Both my medical team and I understand there are no guarantees, that said, it is our opinion, I’m cancer free. Time will tell. 

It’s been quite the journey.  Five separate cancers were discovered and surgically removed between November 2019 and July 2024. Four of my five cancers were genetically different from each other.  The last two colon cancers were genetically similar.

This mental model helped me conceptualize my cancer journey:  Cancer is the enemy. My body is the battlefield. The medical team does the actual fighting. My role is to be a spy, telling the medical team what I feel and see. The goal is to defeat the enemy while doing as little damage as possible to the battlefield.

The current score is:  I’m down one kidney as a result, my hemoglobin is a bit low. My prostate was removed, as a result, I wear a pad.   About 80% of my colon was removed so I use the restroom more frequently. 

Each organ removal created a new normal. Pro tip – focus on your new reality, not on how different it is from your old reality.  Acceptance is the key. 

I see lots of doctors. Some more than others. They include an oncologist, urologist, nephrologist (kidney specialist), cardiologist, sleep specialist, my colon surgeon and of course, my regular but wonderful, General Practitioner.   Behind the scenes are radiologists who read my CT scans.  The doctors, technicians, and nurses are truly my hero’s.  

My blood gets drawn a lot. For example they draw nine vials of blood for my oncologist every three months.  Most of my other appointments also include a blood draw. CT scans were quarterly but are now semi annually. My sigmoidoscopies were quarterly and are now annually. 

A tube of my blood gets sent to a research lab.   Hopefully it helps someone some day. 

The last six years felt like I was on a slow moving roller coaster ride with ups, downs, twists and turns.  Roller coaster rides can be both scary and entertaining.  Mine was mostly just long. 

There was a rhythm to me having cancer. There is a symptom that’s probably nothing, however let’s check to be sure. They call to say it is cancer.  An appointment is made to discuss the options. In my case, surgery was always the best option. 

Surgery is scheduled, then a pre-op physical within two weeks of the surgery. Prior to surgery, limit contact with others so you don’t catch a bug. Surgery happens, four to six days in the hospital and then go home.  Then several days in a recliner before you’re back in bed. 

Six weeks before I was allowed to lift more than ten pounds. Lots of naps. Gradually regain strength and endurance.  It takes several months to feel normal. 

Immunotherapy was tried after my fourth cancer however, after three rounds of immunotherapy, my fifth cancer was diagnosed so that meant immunotherapy did not work and thus stopped.  

One of the side effects of having cancer is that it limits interactions with others. My life got quieter.  Over my five plus year cancer journey I got used to my quieter life.  There are two sides to being comfortable with quiet. The other side of the coin is that sometimes I now get a bit anxious in a group situation.  Working on it, I’m getting better.  

Contrary to what the above implies, the truth is I no longer actually spend much time thinking about my cancer journey.  Just don’t.  My time, energy and mind are focused on doing normal everyday stuff.  Mowing the lawn, blowing snow off the driveway. Making the bed. Vacuuming the floors. Just living my life.  

Linda and I are relatively busy.   Hockey games – MN Frost, MN Gopher women’s hockey, some high school hockey, granddaughter’s softball, plays, art fairs, state parks, family events, holidays, friends, family and lots more.  The calendar is fairly full. 

Probably the key lesson my cancer journey taught me was to live in the present.  I got cancer multiple times. Nothing can change that.  The game of “Could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve” won’t help me in any meaningful way. 

Recovery is a good time to quietly think and reflect about the meaning of life. Here are my truths:  My favorite time of my life was when our kids were in grade school, not when I was in high school.  Modern technology is sometimes frustrating but also very helpful.  I like audiobooks. Listening to an audiobook while on a long walk is a really nice thing to do. 

Cancer is depressing.  Depression during cancer is not helpful. Comparing your current situation to the better days of the past is not helpful.  Staying in the present and hopeful for the future is the winning ticket. 

I’m a cancer survivor. Everyday I think to myself, the goal today is to live my nice quiet life for another day. 

The closer you look the more you see.