Eight Years in Remission

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It's actually been about eight years and a month, but the holidays are always a bit busy and I kind of missed the date. In fact, I don't remember the exact date that I was told I had cancer. I am sure I could go back and look at my calendar and figure it out, but this post is more about looking forward versus looking back.

Of course, you have to acknowledge and respect the past to be able to move forward, so there may end up being some overlap. I was chatting with an old colleague who reached out to me via an unnamed messenger app and he was talking about how now that he is retired, he has been volunteering at the local oncology center. You see, he went through cancer as well, though quite a bit more severe than what I had. He feels this is his way of giving back a little bit, and it really got me reflecting on the past eight years and my time with my diagnosis.

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I had to dig way back into my photo library to snag these shots from 2017 when I was first told that I had a Seminoma. You see, there are two types of testicular cancer. Apparently I got the "good" one which is a Seminoma. This is the most common type of cancer making up 90% of cases. It is slower growing and impacts men in the 25 to 45 age range. The other main type is non-seminoma. It is more aggressive and takes a bit more to battle it.

There are a few others, but those aren't quite as important for this post.

Like I said though, the conversation with that old friend got me thinking about what I have went through the past eight years. The reality is, my cancer diagnosis, radical orchiectomy (look it up), and two weeks of radiation are just a blip on the radar.

There was no spaghetti dinner, no big deal about it with friends or family, no go fund me, no community support event. In fact, if you mentioned it to most @mrsbozz and I's co-workers, they would probably be shocked to hear that I had cancer. It's just no something that we announced or made a big deal about.

I actually went to work on Thursday, had my surgery to remove the cancer on Friday, and I was back to work on Monday. The recovery was oddly insignificant. I did let my boss at the time know that I might have to take a day or two due to the radiation fatigue, but beyond that, it was business as usual.

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It's pretty common to hear stories from countless people about how cancer has changed them. It's true, it definitely changes you, but part of me wonders if the change wasn't so severe with me because the cancer itself wasn't so severe. If I had gone through grueling rounds of chemo, radiation, and surgeries would I feel differently?

As I said, it definitely changes you. Every time you feel something funny or you have those yearly tests, you wonder if this is when it comes back or it spread to some other part of your body and you are just now realizing it. It certainly makes you realize life is nothing to be taken for granted. However, as I said, I wonder if some of that doesn't hit quite as hard with me due to my cancer not being the "bad" kind.

Am I a different person now than I was before the diagnosis? Do I treat people differently? Do I not let the little things get to me as much? Do I live a life that impacts other people's lives?

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I'm honestly not sure how to answer any of those questions. It's not that I don't see every day as a gift, but somewhere in the back of my mind I feel like I wasn't sick enough to really feel the dread of being at death's door. I was out of work longer for Covid and strep throats in the past than I was out for testicular cancer. It's kind of hard to wrap your mind around that and cope with it.

On the flip side, I don't want pity. That's part of the reason @mrsbozz and I were keen on keeping things low key and more of a private matter. The only reason I talk so openly about it now is because I want others to know the signs so you can maybe avoid a much worse outcome than what I had. As embarrassing as it might seem, don't be afraid to bring things up to your doctor or ask those questions. I had a pretty young female doctor at the time, so I likely let it go longer than I really should have. Clearly that was a pretty big mistake.

I apologize, I feel like this post is all over the place, but as I look forward to my ninth year of being in remission, it makes me wonder if I am making the most of this life that has been given me. Realistically it shouldn't take a catastrophic life event for us to want to be better people right?

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All pictures/screenshots taken by myself or @mrsbozz unless otherwise sourced