I just read your diary for the Monday night cancer club. It's been a tough road for you, but I see your will to keep going and you have the strength to win. My tale is for you.
It has been eight years since they sliced me open like a bluefish, threw my guts on the table, cut out some bad parts and sewed me back up.
I am a tough guy, although I always counseled my students to reject the idea. I was having abdominal pain for many months, but I was a tough guy. My mother had died a few years earlier of colon cancer, but I was a tough guy. I hadn't been to the doctor since I was nineteen years old and I was now fifty. I hadn't used a sick day at school for over twenty years.
During the fall I tried to get an appointment for a colonoscopy, as I had already self-diagnosed. I could not get past the lady on the phone. She said I needed my primary care physician to see me and make a referral. I told her I did not have a doctor, since I had not seen one since 1972. Too bad for me.
I got to see a doctor through some connections at school, and I got a CAT scan and some blood work done. I had the radiologist's kid in class, so he let me see the scan and the nice big tumor right where I knew it to be. My blood, however, betrayed me: whatever they were looking for to tell them I had cancer was at a very low level.
I was in trouble: Maybe I had diverticulitis? Have some anti-biotics! After a few days I stopped with them, since I knew what I had.
Over Christmas I had trouble moving, but I kept up my chores. When I got back to school I was in a lot of pain and my colleagues ganged up on me (they knew the tough guy was in trouble). My wife was mad at me and at everyone else who would just watch me suffer. The colonoscopy doc didn't want to go in in case he nicked my tumor and I would need immediate surgery.
Finally I got to see a surgeon. He took a look and laughed, told the colonoscopy doc to go right in and I would be operated on the next day. I said I would need a month to get my crap together for school. He laughed again and said "I'll see you on Thursday."
After that, I just had to get better. I missed a month of school, recovering from surgery. I started chemo right away, but didn't miss any more school.
Now, I love you, peregrine kate, because you remind me of the courage I saw in the women getting care at the cancer clinic. They were sick and had no hair but they had their sense of humor and they wanted to fight. No one there was a weenie. They were getting sick and losing weight, but they were there to fight so they could get back to their families and take care of them.
I don't know your family, peregrine kate, but I know they need you and I know that you will stop at nothing to get back to them. If this was only about you, your body and mind would come to an agreement about when to give in, but it is not just about you. You are tough and brave and people want you back. I will keep checking in with the Monday night gang. I love you.