Tuesday 3 November 2009

Wk 4 - Diagnosis...and Operation

Wk 4

Week 4/Day 1
The Urologist tells me its almost certainly cancer. He will save the testis IF he can, although in most cases this is not advisable. He said he’s one of the very few in the world that even tries to save the testis, it’s a more difficult operation, and has a higher incidence of recurrence. With my emphasis currently on not having my bollock chopped off, this seemed like the most I could ask for. And in fact a hundred times nicer to hear than a blank assumption that removing a nut is an everyday thing, and no alternative will be even considered!

WHAT ABOUT MY OTHER ONE?!
It is VERY unlikely to spread into the other one.
HOW UNLIKELY?
They have different blood supplies, etc etc, it will spread upwards into the lymphatic system, and then into organs such as the liver, the lungs and eventually the brain…usually before spreading into the other one.
OK. SOUNDS GOOD!
(!?!? Would most guys think like this?! Seems stupid, but logical!)
I would advise you to store some sperm though, just to be safe. This one may be the only working one, plus you never know what’s going to happen.
ER OK

(There is an increased chance of developing testicular cancer in the other one, but there isn’t necessarily a reason for this…but statistically it is more likely…either 2 or 3pc, or 2 o3 3 pc higher than if you haven’t…MUST CHECK THAT OUT…)

We discuss putting in a prosthetic, a fake nut, I initially say yes to the idea. If I wake up with something where it should be maybe it will be less distressing. He eventually decides that with the report he has it could be unwise to do this, he gets a second opinion, and firmly advises me it would not be a good idea to have a prosthetic at this point in case there is any local spread it may cause complications. “You can always have it put in later”
(I’m writing this about 7 weeks in and am actually quite glad I didn’t get one…seems pointless somehow – and to have surgery to have one put in seems even more pointless..hm)

He booked me into his preferred radiologist for a second opinion. That was reassuring too. If she determined it to be cancer then he would have me in for the operation the following day.
Until that point I wasn’t convinced it was definitely cancer.
I went home feeling pretty staggered. FUCK.

Telling the family would come tomorrow, once I knew for sure. Invincibility factor MUST come in the next 24 hours!!!

Week 4/Day 2
Work day time. Tense day. Tell my boss, my team…THERE’S A GOOD CHANCE I WONT BE IN TOMORROW, OR FOR A WHILE!...very supportive and positive responses. I love you all thank you!

Ultrasound late pm – yes it’s a tumour, yes its almost certainly cancer. They wont know its DEFINITELY cancer until they have removed it and got back the histology report.

(They don’t really do biopsies or alike for testicular cancer, I think this if for two reasons..(i) ultrasounds are very reliable in this instance, an experienced radiologist can tell whether its got a high chance of being cancer just by looking (ii) if it IS cancer, and they start poking about at it, if even ONE CANCEROUS CELL is spilled because of the biopsy they have actually spread what may not have already spread)

I go to see urologist, he books me in for the following evening.

During this discussion my attitude changed. This was cancer. Get rid of the little bastard that’s trying to kill me. No longer did I fear losing my testicle over the cancer. This was cancer and I needed to get rid of it. I want to live. I love my life. I love my friends and my family. I love the people I work with. I want to do more. CHOP.IT.THE.FUCK.OFF.

Stiff couple of drinks.

I call my family. Not the end of the world don’t worry. Just a little operation. It will be fine. They were lovely. They didn’t stress (at least to my face) as much as I had feared. I didn’t talk to them until now as I knew it would be a difficult thing to hear, for all of them, for different and for the same reasons. Love you!

I wake up in the night shitting myself. Literally crying my eyes out. I hadn’t cried for a long time, except a little the previous night when speaking about it with someone. FUCK! THEYRE GOING TO CHOP OFF MY NUT.