Many cancer survivors describe their experience as a “journey.”
I am starting my own journey.
Technically, this isn't my first time…but last time it was just a day trip. About three years ago, during an unrelated surgery, my nurse noticed a bump on my skin and suggested I get it checked out. She followed her advice and found out it was melanoma. The doctor cut it off and that was it…I thought.
In March, I discovered a lump on my collarbone, right near the location of the melanoma. I immediately went to the doctor and said, “I think it's probably nothing, but my track record of 'probably nothing' isn't very good, so…”
An ultrasound revealed that the lump was a lymph node. A subsequent biopsy confirmed my suspicions.
It's cancer. The melanoma has metastasized – this time under the skin. Stage 3.
It was explained that some cells must have leaked from the initial melanoma surgery and this lymph node had picked them up. Apparently lymph is like that, so my body responded properly in that respect.
Last week, that process began in earnest. I had blood drawn on Monday, a CAT scan of my chest and abdomen on Wednesday, and an MRI of my brain on Thursday.
On Friday, I received some encouraging news. The test results showed that there were no obvious abnormalities. This is medically good. This means that the tumor is considered isolated for now.
On Monday, my wife and I had our first appointment with an oncologist in Victoria.
Due to the unstable location of the tumor, I was informed that the surgery would be performed by a Royal Jubilee specialist. (We were hoping that might happen at Comox Valley Hospital, but no such luck.)
The next step in the process is to return to Victoria for a PET scan to double-check that there are no other tumors.
From there, you will consult with your surgeon, at which point a surgery date (again, hopefully) will be determined.
The good news from the conference in Victoria is that treatments for such melanomas have made great strides over the past decade. I was told that if something unexpected happened, I wouldn't need chemotherapy or radiation therapy. They have developed a targeted therapy for this type of cancer.
This approach is also curative rather than palliative, meaning it is caught early enough to target remission.
Other than that, I'm learning as I go.
Yes, it's scary. Yes, I'm worried. Admittedly, I was surprised when he was told he had stage 3 cancer, considering he only has 4 stages. But I also consider myself very lucky. I’m lucky to have my support system. My family has a doctor who is just a phone call away. I have many friends who help me with anything I need. Most importantly, I have a wife named Erica who will be my co-navigator throughout this journey.
And I'm lucky enough to live in Canada, where my savings won't be used to save my life.
I plan to continue to share my journey publicly. It's not for sympathy, it's for education. Cancer is scary. Anyone who has ever dealt with it knows that.
We often hear that the most important thing is early detection. I guess I was lucky in that respect. A word of caution for anyone who has had stage 0 (outermost layer of skin) or stage 1 (less than 1 millimeter deep) melanoma. The procedure is the “cut off” mentioned above. It's clear. Please be careful. Check your body for lumps you don't recognize and don't leave them unattended if you find them. Please get tested immediately.
The alternatives get worse the longer you wait.
Terry Farrell is editor of the Comox Valley Record
