Metastatic

Most people know how deadly cancer can be, given the large emphasis we put on it in today's society. Cancer grows and spreads, like an internal plague that eventually kills off good cells and replaces them with the nasty ones. If found in time, the cancer (in a tumorous state) can be removed before it has a chance to spread and do long term damage. Unfortunately, there are times when the cancer displaces cells to other areas of the body. They often travel through the lymphatic system or through blood vessels.

A routine scan. That's all it was. I don't care how optimistic of a person you are... just simply knowing you've had cancer before can make you dread wanting to do this. You try to stay positive, but the "what-ifs" rattle around inside your brain. Just a routine scan, that's all. This wasn't like before when I knew I had a lump inside me and just needed to know what it was. This was just to make sure nothing came back. Stay positive. I feared this scan so much more than the prior surgeries. Nothing would give me more relief to get the report a week later and be marked clear. Just routine.

All was not well. At this point, I was numbed to the news. This had been the third time in 2 years I had been given the news. I took it in stride and asked questions about the possibility of it being something else. I knew if melanoma spread to my body my survival rate would reduce drastically. I wanted it to be something else so badly. It could be a cyst. An infection. Something else. But not likely. I had a history. They weren't there before. They were extremely metabolic. One of these things would be worrisome enough. When combined together, the odds were slim.

I did what I've done every other time I had received the news. Time to do some research. Still holding out hope for something else, I searched frantically for a sign from someone that it could be something else. Maybe I had pneumonia. But time and time again the signs pointed at my cancer's inevitable return, like the sequel to a bad movie.

I think that's when it really hit me. It wasn't death that I feared, but more that I was powerless to stop this from keep coming back. Since the first time I found out, I had silently been preparing myself mentally for the chances that I may not make it through this. But to be hit with this news again, that it had returned for a third time within the span of two years was heart-breaking.

The hardest part comes when you need to tell others. My wife was with me at the time, so she got the news along side me. But would I have the same bedside manner when it came time to tell my parents? The worst thing I had to do up until this point was to inform them I had cancer. Now I had to tell them it came back. No one should have to go through that.

Even now I would be remiss to say I am not afraid. Not of death, but of all I have to lose. I have so many great friends and a loving family. I hate like hell that because of this disease they have to suffer along side me. I often wish this was a fight I could do alone without involving the grief of others. But it is in the strength of everyone else around I can find hope and inspiration.

The odds are in my favor. I'm young. I'm in relatively decent health. I have a good sense of humor about the whole thing. These factors will help me along.