Sunday, July 15, 2012

Cancer on My Mind – July 15, 2012

Part 2 - Test Results and Other Discoveries

It has been nearly six weeks since my cancer diagnosis. The hard part of dealing with it has been the realization that I did not know what I was dealing with. Dr. Shannon told me that I had an ulcerated growth when I came out of the endoscopy on May 30th. He said it didn’t look good, but we’d know more when the biopsy came in. For a whole day I comforted myself with the hope that it was nothing more than an old fashion ulcer. That delusion lasted only till evening. Then the bad news came. The “growth” at the top of my stomach was a malignant tumor. That’s about all I knew. Many questions began to trample through my mind. How big was it? How long had it been growing there? What stage had it reached? Had the cancer metastasized? How long before I would I feel pain? How long was I going to live? Questions without answers create vacuums - empty spaces for the imagination to fill.

I am nearly without symptoms. I have a little trouble swallowing – have to consciously chew my food and chase it with water. I sleep a bit longer than I use to, but can’t say that’s due to the cancer. I have plenty of energy for chores and projects. I feel no pain. I’m super-tuned to the least stomach grumble, but can’t claim any definitive activity in that area. In short, I feel fine. I wouldn’t know I had cancer.


I visited the surgeon the other day. Dr. Peters estimated it has been growing down there for around five years - about the time I had my last colonoscopy - seems I was looking at the wrong end.

A PET scan on June 29th revealed the cancer might have spread to nearby lymph nodes, but not much further. My radiologist and oncologist took my case to the “Tumor Board” on July 5th. The board, made up of about twenty local specialists, came to the consensus that I had a stage three esophageal cancer. Its recommended a five week treatment of radiation and chemo therapy. The two work in a synergic manner to shrink the tumor and kill cancer cells throughout the body. Surgery will follow with the removal of a part of my stomach and a portion of the esophagus.

So, why me? Why stomach cancer? I’m not overweight. I exercise regularly, follow a good diet, limit alcohol to only two or three glasses of wine in the evening, and my blood tests range in the normal. I’m supposed to be healthy. Stomach cancer is rare in the United States, but quite prevalent in Japan. Doctors routinely screen for colon cancer here, in Japan its stomach cancer. I’ve been delving into my genealogy for twenty years and am assured that no Japanese were hiding in any of my ancestor’s woodpiles, but my Cousin Sarah in California reminds me that our grandfather, John Harrison Buckingham, died of stomach cancer. He passed in 1939 at 58 years - just six months before I was born.

My reaction upon learning of the stomach cancer could be likened to that of a prisoner being sentenced to death. The condemned has the advantage of knowing his impending date. I suspect my mortality has also been scheduled, sometime earlier than I have always expected, with the exact moment shrouded in the future. From my perspective this seems unfair because it doesn’t reflect my own made-up lifeline. Others may not have chosen the age at which they expect to expire, but mine has been set somewhere around 85 years. That is probably because my mother and maternal grandmother died at that age, just short of 86. The two were the longest survivors of my birth family (Grandma lived with us from a time before my birth). Uncle Charlie (Mom’s brother) lived into his 90’s. He has the record for several generations - including my own. I’ve had this number stuck in mind for some years, so I’ve always been focused on how many I have remaining (for example, 85 minus my present 72 equals thirteen years - at a minimum). So there was yet plenty of time to accomplish the things on my “bucket list”. It’s a bit of a shock to disover that I’ve been using a faulty system all these years.

Go to: Part 1, Part 2,  Part 34, 5, 6, 7,