My 21st Century Cancer Tour—so far

Or, My Life is Getting Stranger and Stranger…

 

I made it through more than 60 years in the 20^th Century with nary a cancer—that I know about. There were aches and pains, broken bones, minor surgeries, stitches from time to time, and all was good. 

The kids were born, grew up, and had kids of their own. Carol and I aged gracefully (that’s our story), and all was good.

But then came Y2K and, although there was no Internet meltdown, my cancer cells decided to assert themselves. They did it very quietly at first and grew in a secret place in my prostate. A doctor or two was sure it was curable and I agreed to have it removed. Later I had radiation therapy because it turns out the prostate cancer was not all removed or curable. For some years after that hormones of one sort or another kept those pesky cells in check—still growing but very slowly. And all was pretty good.

I have read a lot of cancer research and discovered that having one cancer greatly increased your risk of getting other cancers. Turns out that was true for me. In less than six months I was diagnosed with a nasty melanoma on my back (October 2014), a carcinoma on my leg (January 2015) and (also January 2015) cancerous growths were found in my beleaguered bladder (technically still prostate cancer). Minor surgeries and a bladder cystoscopy have removed all of these (more or less). Some may grow back after a while, I'm told. 

While I really don’t much care for cancer in any form, there is an upside. I am doing my share (and more) to keep Big Pharma in the chips, to keep doctors and nurses fully employed, to add interesting scars to my body, and to continue to live longer than anyone has a right to. And that’s all good, too.

axman