Acceptance and Moving Forward

We're already at the mid-way point of my blog experience and having read through several entries written by others I feel ill-equipped to add to wealth of experience and wisdom found on this site. But in my own feeble way, allow me to invite you to carry on with me through my experience. Up to this point I've recounted how I was initially diagnosed with a seemingly benign lump inside the right corner of my mandible. Nothing nefarious evidently, just a mass of cells growing in an inconvenient location for no apparent reason. I underwent surgery which involved cutting my jaw bone in half allowing the surgeon to splay the lower portion of my face wide open, providing access to the tumour. It was described as an aggressive surgery to say the least but I was reassured that it was also routine and I could expect to return to normal life within weeks.
What happened next changed everything.

My journal entry from August 11th, 2009:
It's funny how your body intuitively knows things. You may not have the medical expertise to accurately describe what's ailing you or even understand the nature of the problem, but you know when something is wrong. Somehow we just instinctively know when something is out of the ordinary. Serious. Perhaps life-threatening.

I write this a couple of hours after my post-surgical follow-up exam to discuss my recent surgery. That surgery involved cutting my jaw bone in half to remove a paraphalangeal tumour behind the right corner of my jaw. The surgery was a success and the doctor feels he was able to remove the entire mass and the initial biopsy revealed no worrisome findings. Just a lump of tissue that grew out of control for some reason.

As it turns out, some very complex pathological testing has revealed something else. You see, the doctor was concerned in the days leading up to my surgery because the tumour suddenly grew by a considerable amount and this was accompanied by equally considerable pain. It seems that concern was well founded. The tumour was malignant. I have cancer.

Funny how that looks in print. Even stranger is the sensation of typing it. I don't really know what it means. It's such a nebulous, all-encompassing disease that spells certain death for some while sparing others to a routine treatment regimen only to return them to their normal lives with a newfound sense of appreciation for the fleeting nature of life. I don't know where mine falls on that scale. I don't know how long that question will loom over me or if it will ever truly be answered. I don't know much about what the next few months have in store for me.

Having already been through an aggressive surgery to remove the tumour and having had a few months to consider the possibilities, I'm not entirely surprised by the news. I've skipped over the denial and depression and sadness stages and moved directly to anger. That's probably normal. News like this tends to reduce the entire world down to a little sphere that surrounds you and the air inside is filled with the sour smell of unfair deal. Why me? Why anyone for that matter?

I've always considered serious illness to be a fact of life, not something to be treated with much emotion. I still feel that way. Bad things happen to good people and bad people and getting upset about it won't change anything. In fact a big emotional outburst will only serve to make all those involved feel silly afterwards. I don't want any special treatment or consideration. Like my original note on the tumour a few months ago, I'm only writing this so all my friends are aware of what's going on. But I am angry about it, despite myself.

So, I'll meet with an oncologist to discuss my treatment options. Most likely it will be a radiation session that involves getting zapped in the skull every day for six weeks. The side-effects are not much fun but at least no one will notice the hair loss. I'll have to have several full-body scans to ensure the cancer hasn't spread to other areas, after all, it was part of my glandular system which makes it quite easy for the bad cells to spread around the body. I won't be able to return to work as soon as I'd hoped and I won't be able to honour any of the social commitments that I was looking forward to. I will truly miss seeing those of you who had special plans that involved me this summer and I wish you the very best without me.

Cliché as it may be, I have no intention of letting this thing alter my life over the long term. I will get back on my feet and I will return to work and I will still be the same guy you've always known. There's a belief that once you tell people you have cancer, that's all they can see. If I can ask anything of you as my friends, it's that you don't let me see an ounce of pity or sadness in your eyes. I'm carrying on as I always would and I expect you to do the same. There are far worse things in life than what I'm dealing with, so please, let's all just get on with our lives and look forward to a bright future.

As for the short term, I have little choice but to yield to the medical experts who seem confident that they can fix this. I've been told that my condition is so rare that the Ottawa General has documented ten cases...in its history. So despite the uncharted nature of this problem, I will place my faith in the doctors hands. I'll place my faith in the goodwill of my family and friends. I'll place my faith in my own stubbornness and determination to get my way at all costs.

You are all precious to me in your own unique way and many of you to each other. Don't be afraid to share that with those you care about most. You never know what tomorrow may bring.
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Unlike my previous posts, I don't have anything to add to this one. There's no moral or lesson beyond what's already been written here. I still read this and remember how I felt the day I was given the bad news. I still remember being surprised that I felt sorry for myself only for a few minutes before I decided to get on with living, fighting and winning. Acceptance is fundamental but once you come face to face with the monster you have little choice. After all, denial won't make it go away.