Dear Friends,
I hope this post finds you well, because wellness is what I want to talk about today. I have been thinking about detailing the road to my cancer diagnosis for a long time, yet it is so personal—a difficult subject. However, I feel I must share my story, after all I consider myself among friends. This, in a small way, is my very own, personal “public service announcement.”
The entire journey from suspicion of cancer to a decisive diagnosis took about a year. It was preceded by my oldest son’s near fatal brain injury and my father’s death occurring within days of each other.
During this time, I pushed myself far beyond my physical ability, sitting all day each day with my son in ICU, rushing out of town to be with Dad for his very last days, and eventually trying to show up at work when I could between taking my turn companioning my son in his weeks long physical rehab. I ended up sick, very, very sick.
My doctor noticed, in addition to my fever and sinus issues, that my glands were swollen. I was also experiencing pain in my lower abdomen. She said I could either have Mononucleosis or a slow growing lymphatic cancer—Scary! —and sent me to a specialist. Mono was diagnosed. Whew! My husband took a photo of me after the appointment standing under a coincidental rainbow.
I convalesced for six weeks before I was at able to return to work. Even then, I was constantly tired, my glands were still swollen, and I was still experiencing the mystery pain.
At my recheck, my doctor said the abdominal pain could related to my bowels or, again, cancer. She ordered a CAT scan and (joy, joy—NOT!) a colonoscopy. The CAT scan located two very small masses in my lower abdomen, so we scheduled a biopsy. As the biopsy date drew near, I was notified it had been cancelled due to the target area being located too close to blood vessels to perform the intended procedure. Sigh. My doctor was sympathetic, however, another CAT scan assured us the masses were not growing, and so she suggested we wait for the results of the colonoscopy.
More time passed. The pain did not go away. I finally went for my colonoscopy and—good news!—all was clear! Yay! Yet, the mysterious pain was still there.
Despite the good news, I sensed something was wrong. This pain was not normal, mild though it was and small though the potential trouble spots might be.
I went back to my doctor and requested the appropriate type of biopsy. This involved outpatient surgery which was performed almost exactly a year from the date of my son’s accident. By the next day we had the diagnosis—Stage 1 Follicular Lymphoma.
I did some research and learned that Follicular Lymphoma is a “lucky” form of cancer if caught early. It is slow-growing, treatable, and will often go into remission for 5-10 years, after which it can be treated again. Most people with Follicular Lymphoma will simply have it all their lives and die of other causes.
At last I knew what I faced.
I counted myself blessed.
My treatment began a few weeks later with a month of weekly infusions, followed by bimonthly infusions over the next two years (which unfortunately stretched to two-plus years. However, that is another story.)
My word for you, dear friends, is this:
Know your body. If you sense something is wrong with your body, seek answers, and don’t give up until you know what is going on.
Although Follicular Lymphoma is slow growing, undiagnosed, it could have spread to other organs, where it could become a more dangerous problem.
I will write more, now and then, about my cancer journey. The experience most definitely changed my life in many ways, positively as well as negatively. Many of those positives I am eager to share.
God bless you, and please take care of yourselves!
Your Friend,
Debby
P.S. If you have your own “public service announcement” you would like to share, please feel free to use the comments box below. Let’s encourage one another!
Debby Zigenis-Lowery's Literate Lives 