Luckily, all my blood work and scans have come back clear. The last sonogram of my testicles has shown no new tumor growth, so I can relax for a few months…until the next round of testing.
I was diagnosed with testicular cancer on Halloween 2014, not in just one testicle, but in both. The urologist said removal. The oncologist said chemo and radiation would be the same thing as surgery. A holistic center told me there could be a possibility to reverse the tumors in one, but the other one had to go. So on November 24, 2015, I had one removed. No one was happy with my decision, except me.
The main reason I didn’t get both removed though, is I don’t want to lose my balls. I’m OK with just one, but to not have any takes the phrase, “Why don’t you grow a pair?” to a whole new level. And trust me fellas, you won’t know how hard the decision is until it’s actually put to you.
Since the testicles produce sperm, and sperm helps make a person, the cancer can metastasize wherever it wants, whenever it wants. This is why no one was happy with my decision. The testes also produce testosterone, which for a man is pretty important. But I don’t want to have testosterone replacement therapy. I’ve read and seen enough horror stories about this, and I want no part of it. Hell, in all reality, I don’t ever want to rely on someone else for my health. It is MY health after all.
Unfortunately, I am now a cog in the never ending bullshit that is our healthcare system. Blood drawn, sonograms on my remaining testicle, CAT scans, and doctor appointment after doctor appointment. Cold, too bright rooms, and the smell of cleaner is not how I want to spend my time. Faces with hopeless expressions, but that could just be my jaded point of view right now. Doctors who spend 10 minutes with you, and then move on to their next patient.
Class act, let me tell you.
But you know what’s even worse than that? Since I have made my decision, I can literally feel the fear coming off of people at me. They’re scared I made the wrong choice. They don’t ask how I am. They show no support for the decision I’ve made. What a great support team I’ve surrounded myself with.
There is an exception though. I have one friend, whom I’ve known for years, who completely agrees with my decision. Actually, he told me, he would have just lived with the tumors. I don’t get to spend much time with him, but when I do, it’s probably the only time I don’t think about it. His views match mine when it comes to the healthcare profession, and how people should have more control over how procedures are administered. So it is a blessing when I get to spend time with him.
The worst time is at night, in bed. I’ve never had a problem with sleep, but since I heard that fucking C-word, it is the only thing scrolling through my head at night. I was given a prescription for Xanax to help with it. My old physician took a position at the hospital, so now I have a doctor who’s right out of his residency, and he wants to wean me off of it.
How about helping wean me off of cancer, so you don’t have to worry about weaning me off of the Xanax. I’ve never had a problem with sleep, and don’t think I will after the all clear is given. Plus you bastard, I HAVE CANCER!!! Sleep is a vital function in the healing process. Why would you deny someone that?
Luckily, all of my blood work and scans are coming back clear. And the last sonogram of my testicles have shown no new tumor growth. Next round with the hospital is in January. Let the stress begin again.
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