House of suspicion

I'm posting this about a day later than I anticipated, but here we are one year and a day post-surgery. Honestly, it seems so long ago, almost like a dream. I wouldn't call it a nightmare, but it felt like it was very much a nightmare at the time. Maybe this is the feeling women go through after having a baby. The pain is agonizing but worth it in the end. So much so that women have multiple kids! I can assure you that I do not want to have cancer again. Although, I seem to be good at growing cancers. Twice so far. The flip side of that statement is that I am also good at beating cancer. Perhaps I should have a belt made like they give wrestlers. It would be pretty cool but highly impractical to wear daily, which I would probably try to wear everywhere. I'm extra, as those closest to me like to remind me.

My body is a house of suspicion. I heard this phrase from a survivor of ovarian cancer. It is quite a statement, and it hit home. I find that I am in a constant state of wondering if I am really cancer free. Is what I'm eating going to give me cancer again? Should I be concerned about a twinge of pain? I haven't had a bowel movement for a day; do I have a small bowel obstruction? Is my urine pristine? Usually, I put it out of my mind because one cannot live in fear. However, other times it's in my mind, and I can't escape irrational dread. It's dumb. I hate it. Fortunately, I can carry on and live my life. One should not underestimate the mental aspect of this experience; I know I have. Coming to terms with one's mortality at forty is an odd thing to do. Especially since I've joked for a while that I hoped to be dead by the time I'm forty. If a couple of things didn't go my way, that could have been the case; or at least dead by 45; I'm stubborn that way.

Unfortunately, time on this earth is short, and this bout of cancer has me realizing that I am running out of time. So, I get a fair amount of anxiety thinking, have I done enough? Am I doing a good job at work? Most importantly, am I a good dad and domestic life partner? The cynical side of me tells me no. But my optimistic side says you're doing the best you can. Then the opposing side says, well, it's not good enough. I don't suppose I will know until my obituary is written, which is hopefully a long way off.

I think most of my followers on social media know what I've been up to since the last post here on the blog. I have been doing a lot! But this cancer has led me to want to experience more things. So, I dragged my family to many baseball games and other events. I feel very fortunate to be able to do these things, and my domestic life partner has been very patient with me and my hijinx.

One positive aspect of colon cancer is the ability to tell my story, which I do in part here. I also talk to people about my experience. I am the poster child for preventative medicine; even if my outcome weren't as good, I would still be talking to people about my experience. I don't talk about it as a means of bragging, but more of a take your health seriously approach.

One person I spoke to upon listing the common symptoms of colon cancer went out and got a take-home lab kit. Unfortunately, the results weren't good. Fortunately, the colonoscopy was fine. Unfortunately, this person's domestic life partner finally had some spots on their skin checked, and it turned out to be melanoma. The good news is that it was stage one but imagine if it was left to grow for months or even years.

In addition to telling my story, I hear other people's stories. I find the experience very personal. The connection between two strangers of acquaintances seems to deepen when cancer stories are shared. Sometimes it's a colon cancer story; others, it's a different one. I find it all fascinating, and it helps me not to feel so alone. If someone has had colon cancer, we trade notes. I've learned that it could take as long as four years to find equilibrium with how my body operates. But, of course, everyone is different, and I hope I've already found my new normal.

I've meandered quite a bit with this post. There is quite a lot to cover, and I don't have the free time to write as much as I would like. Not that you're interested. However, being over 750 words into this post, I suspect you're pretty invested in what's going on with me. Perhaps you should find a hobby. I hear pickleball is all the rage. I kid, I kid.

Health-wise I am pretty good. My blood pressure is high, and I am trying to get it down, but I cannot find the time to get to the gym to work out. Eating healthy is challenging, but I've reembraced intermediate fasting and am getting results. Meal prepping is the next mountain to climb, but with all the experiences I'd like to have, making food seems to get in the way. Nevertheless, it's necessary, and I'll figure it out, not unlike going to the gym.

I had a colonoscopy last week, and the surgeon who did my surgery found one 3-millimeter polyp. The doctor removed it, and I look forward to the next colonoscopy, mainly for the anesthesia.

I bet you thought you would get away without hearing about my poop! No such luck, my friends. My bowel movements are consistently inconsistent. You know, it's like a box of chocolates; I never know what I'm going to get. (That was pretty bad, sorry!)

The good news is my urine is still pristine! I jumped on the Stanley Adventure Quencher bandwagon. The damn thing holds 40 ounces of water! I try to finish three daily and get close to having a whole gallon of water. It's a lot of water, but I find the more water I drink, the better my body functions.

I am up to nearly 1100 words, and it's time to wrap this up. Seriously, thanks for reading. There are some pretty big things in the works. I can't wait to update you on it. I'm sure you've had enough of this cancer talk.

If you're still praying for me, thank you; it does help.