Son of a Bitch!!!!

I have found that my experience with cancer has not been a linear process with predictability the order of the day. Few surprises have come my way after the initial diagnosis as my doctors, Don Patterson, and Maury Coats have prepared me for most every eventuality--until now. Diane and I decided to wait for some good results as I had a PET scan on Wednesday (a test that detects active cells in the body--these active cells are usually cancer cells). My follow-up appointments were this morning in Burlington.

I awoke at 1 a.m. and had a couple of cans of product, went back to sleep, and had another can at 4:30 followed by a 4th can at 6:30 a.m. This was done because I knew I would be gone until mid afternoon and I had to get my daily regimen of calories, vitamins, and protein. While we don't project too much about all of this, today's visit with the doctors has been on our minds for the last couple of days. During my life, I have had the good fortune of controlling much of what happens to me in terms of what I do, how I do it, and when I do it. Not so this time. Cancer takes a certain amount of control from you.

As I sat in the waiting room, I felt very much like I did 30 years ago when I was pursuing the Ph.D. at the University of Florida. While it wasn't his fault, I feared every visit with my main professor Dr. Fox and the calm, cool, collected Gordy Taylor would get that horrible nervous perspiration every time I got within 50 miles of Gainesville, Florida. It was a scary time in my life, and I always felt that I was at the mercy of Dr. Fox and my other committee members. I had the same feeling this morning.

I had used 14 containers of deodorant but to no avail. For the first time instead of me feeling nauseous, Diane thought she was going to hurl. Now Diane had bought Dr. El-Khoury a beautiful purple tie at the Polo store when she was in Chicago last week. As she handed him the package, I joked that it was really purchased at Wal-Mart and simply put in a Polo box. This is his last day at the Cancer Care Center and will be moving to Dubai with his family. We exchanged pleasantries, but we both thought it odd that he didn't immediately say, "the PET-scan is clear, way to go!" Instead I had to ask, "what about the PET-scan?"

We couldn't believe our ears, and we looked at each other as he said, "there are a couple of little hot spots in your neck that need further testing." My mind was racing. I kept repeating to myself "son of a bitch!" Couldn't the guy have just said that everything was fine. He is a wonderful man, and I'm sure he hated giving us that news.

Time to move forward. The superb staff at Cancer Care Center arranged for a 2:30 CT-Scan with contrast at Great River Medical Center which will give more information. On the way home, I developed a nasty headache and upon arrival at 35 Indian Trail attempted to swallow a couple of Advil which promptly lodged in my throat. "Come on, give me a break, it's just a couple of Advil."

It is now 5 p.m. and I'm done feeling sorry for myself--sort of. We return to Burlington on Monday morning for the test results. The best case scenario is that there is nothing to worry about, simply an anomaly. Worst case is surgery at the University of Iowa. We are betting on the former.

It is important to maintain perspective here. The base of tongue cancer is gone. The PET scan could have indicated that cancer had spread to other organs, but it hasn't. My life is somewhat returning to normalcy with daily walks, eating more "regular" food, and even playing a little tennis. I have much to be thankful for and look forward to a 42nd anniversary lunch with Diane at Shiloh's (a new restaurant in Macomb) on August 31st. Son of bitch, it's been a helluva 6 months and Monday will start another chapter for us. If this has been too lengthy of an explanation, I apologize but I've tried to capture our feelings, our fears, and our concerns as this story unfolds in real time.