27-year-old Christopher Schepper was in great shape—how could he have cancer?
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For more than a year, “Mr. Ballsy” Thomas Cantley featured cancer survivors as part of his campaign of cancer prevention awareness, using #IamBallsy as the hashtag to unite cancer patients and survivors as he spread his positive message. Here is one of those stories.
Christopher Schepper‘s Ball(s)y testicular cancer story:
It’s been a quick 16 years since I lost lefty to stage 1A non-seminoma testicular cancer—doesn’t seem nearly so long ago.
I was 27 years old, working in a local motorcycle shop selling bikes in Bloomington, Indiana. At 27, I was in great shape and generally felt like most 27-year-olds do: pretty good. However, during the month of May that year, I began to notice subtle changes with my body. I had noticed an enlargement of my left testicle accompanied by a very mild dull ache and what felt like warmth to me. I remember sitting down at work and noticing my jeans were a lot tighter in the groin area when I crossed my legs. I thought to myself, perhaps I had an infection, but there was only the mildest amount of discomfort there so I was unsure.
I decided to wait and watch, not at all thinking this was anything that I would have to seriously concern myself and the swelling would likely go away on its own just as it had come. During the next week, perhaps two, the swelling of my testicle continued. By the end of May, my left testicle would be the size of a large egg, hard and heavy feeling. I also (in hindsight I realized this) noticed my nipples feeling strange and particularly sensitive—was my chest getting bigger?—I thought more than once to myself.
On June 7, 1997, I woke up planning on attending a friend’s wedding. When showering that morning, I really took some time to compare my two testicles. By this time, the left one was drastically larger than the right and hard and felt heavy, perhaps about the size of a lemon. On the advice of my father, I decided to contact my family physician and see when I could be seen. As it so happened, my family doc had Saturday office hours one Saturday per month and he made room for me to be seen that morning. In just a few hours, I was being examined by Dr. Charles McClary. Dr. McClary first suspected an infecting and prescribed antibiotics for me to take. BUT he asked me to come see him that Tuesday for a follow-up exam to see if the antibiotics were making a difference.
They weren’t. The testicle continued to grow.
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Seeing this, Dr. McClary and I had a conversation about what to do. It was decided we would send me to have an ultrasound that very afternoon at the hospital. And I was told to see a urologist, Dr. Eric Smith, the next day, a Wednesday, and that he would have the results of the ultrasound and manage my care from there. It was towards the end of this conversation in discussing my plan of care that Dr. McClary first mentioned that he wanted to rule out testicular cancer. I remember hearing these words but not really believing that what was going on could be cancer.
I was only 27 and was in great shape physically—how could I have cancer?
The ultrasound was completed that Tuesday and the next day, I saw Dr. Eric Smith, Urologist. He examined me and was immediately up front in his suspicions of testicular cancer. He ordered blood tests for me to take that day and explained that I would likely be undergoing removal of the testicle to determine whether it was cancerous or not. If the blood test came back positive, he was sure it was testicular cancer and the testicle would have to be removed very quickly.
I remained in a state of quasi-disbelief, but had no choice but to accept my cancer diagnosis quickly. One immediate issue had to be dealt with: I had no insurance.
Being a US Navy veteran, I thought to call the Veterans’ Administration in the hopes that they might treat me for free of reduced rates. It took a couple of hours, but eventually I was approved for coverage and was planning my surgery for the very next day (Friday) with the urologists at the Indianapolis Roudebush Veterans Hospital.
The removal of my testicle was completely successful.
Took just a couple hours and I was back home that same evening. The next BIG fork in the road would be the pathology report. I spent that weekend on the couch with ice pack recovering. I remember moving about was done so very slowly and gingerly, especially those first few days.
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It was the following Tuesday and I got the call. The Urology team RN called. The pathology report was back. “You have Stage 1A non-seminoma, mixed germ cell testicular cancer, no evidence of vascular invasion, 95 percent cure rate. Can you come in Thursday to meet with the doctors?” It took a few seconds for this to settle in.
This was GOOD news. My lab work came back good as well. So far, so good.
A fortuitous thing about being treated at the Indianapolis VA hospital was this: they shared many of the same doctors with the Indiana University Medical Center (IU SIMON Cancer Center). As it turned out, my case of TC was being managed by some of the finest testicular cancer doctors in the world.
I remember feeling so fortunate at having both my medical expenses taken care of by the VA and that I was being treated by the same physicians who treated Lance Armstrong.
At the meeting with my VA urologist, three basic treatment options were given me:
1) Surveillance—simply watch for the disease to return with frequent CT scans, chest x-rays, and blood work. Potential side effects to surveillance were low and consisted mainly of being exposed to radiation on a frequent basis and a small chance that this radiation could cause cancer down later in life. There was about a 70 percent chance I had been cured with removal of the testicle alone, therefore this was a legitimate treatment option with minimal risks.
2) Complete one round of BEP chemotherapy (adjuvant chemotherapy). Potential side effects included infertility, scarring of the lungs, neuropathy.
3) Retro Peritoneal Lymph node Dissection (RPLND)–a six-hour surgery of the abdominal cavity. Potential side effects include impotence, infection, bowel blockage, retrograde ejaculation.
After many questions and careful consideration, I chose surveillance as my treatment plan.
I would be carefully monitored with CT scans, X-rays and blood work for the next five years. My first year of surveillance, I would get a check up every month. They would be aggressive in monitoring me for continued remission.
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During the next five years, I was diligent in my follow up, not missing a single scan or blood draw. I remember the anxiety, especially early on, of waiting for your latest results. I did get easier, but I always was relieved to hear the news of a clean scan. One thing cancer has taught me is to be able to live with uncertainty.
I never did get used to the warm flash feeling your body gets when they inject the contrast into your arm, nor the nasty barium “milkshakes” I had to drink. Both, however, were unpleasant necessities I gladly took on.
I didn’t do too much talking about my testicular cancer when I was under going surveillance. My family and close friends knew about what had happened to me but I really didn’t talk much with others about it. Certainly didn’t make a point to talk about it with others. I think this began to change when I was nearing the end of surveillance. Testicular cancer can come back after five years but it is exceedingly rare.
Perhaps I had come to terms with having and, hopefully, beating it. I think I did. I began to talk more about what I had been through to others–especially other young men. I was now a new nurse as well, having completed nursing school in 2002. As a nurse, and as a testicular cancer survivor, I spent time each semester in the local high schools teaching sixteen-year-old boys about testicular cancer and testicular self-exam.
Over the course of several years, the TC awareness message of early detection through monthly self-exam reached hundreds and hundreds of young men in Southern Indiana As a survivor, I feel it my continued obligation to tell others about this disease—to save lives from this highly curable disease when caught early. I now help facilitate the Global Testicular Cancer Awareness and Support Forum on Facebook.
We currently have about 2,000 one-ballers and flat-baggers from all over the globe who regularly share their experiences with testicular cancer in the hopes of helping the newly diagnosed.
My testicular cancer journey has left me with many serendipitous blessings. Through my awareness efforts, I have met an entirely new group of people who share in my TC experience. Many of these guys—men from all over the world—I consider true friends, brothers in arms that I will always cherish.
So many are doing so many wonderful things to eliminate death and the need for aggressive treatment with late stage TC diagnoses. I enjoy my continued efforts at raising awareness of TC tremendously, and believe that if I save just one life, my efforts are well worthwhile.
Thank you for joining me in my BALL(S)Y journey! Nut(s) to TC!
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Photo: Mr. Ballsy and courtesy of Chris Schepper
This first appeared as part of Thomas Cantley’s series on Facebook.
And thank you for sharing this!