Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Cancer”

Man Up! The Big C (Colonoscopy).


Consumer Reports recently submited a report stating that  only a few cancer screening tests were truly necessary.  The writer offers excuses such as not beneficial, causing unneeded scares and paranoia, and financially not worth it.  As a cancer survivor I know all too well the importance of catching a developing cancer as early as possible.  There is no early detection for Hodgkin’s Disease and it is rare enough that it is difficult to diagnose and often misdiagnosed by something as simple as the common cold (yes, that was my original diagnosis).

When all is said and done, try explaining to a family who in spite of health benefits cannot afford the extremely expensive treatments because the cancer diagnosed was not caught earlier by detection and could have been treated at a less cost.  There are actually some in our society who would even make the argument that too much money, and too many tests get performed.  I know that my heart surgery, would not have cost over $100,000 had I been followed up as they do today for late effects because the issue would have been caught sooner and perhaps a bypass would not have been needed..

For now, screenings are available, and they do benefit us.  And we should have them.  Women have their boobs smashed in searching for breast cancer (a service that I was willing to perform free of charge when I was younger and single).  They even climb up on a table with a papercloth gown exposing their girly bits once their legs are placed up in stirrups.  Of course, there are skin cancer screenings.

But when it comes to men, we are a little funny about that stuff.  We have a lot more confidence in our health that we find such things as prostate screenings and colonscopies are unnecessary.  The last thing we need to tell us we are sick is having a finger or camera shoved up our ass.  Besides, and I am not saying that I believe this, but there are men that do, that it might have some… well… homosexual connotations by having these exams done to them.  Me personally, I have always been of the mindset, I do not want anything going in through the out door.

Again, a personal note, I know dozens of people who have battled colon cancer, and too many that have died.  My cancer treatments that I went through run the possibilities of developing a secondary cancer, perhaps colon cancer.  A colonoscopy would be beneficial to me.  In fairness, my doctors have not pushed me until now, my friends urged me years ago.

I love this blog, Paul’s Heart.  I am not about sensationalism, so I have no plans of videotaping my colonoscopy.  If I end up being this major baby and I got to destroy it and cannot, I do not want that leaked out.  But with my wife by my side, she will help dictate the things that are done, said by the staff, said by me, recovery, and trip home.

That is right, in just one and a half days, I will be going through not only a colonoscopy, but completing the “pig on the spit” image, an endoscopy.  I have had an endoscope done before where they go down your throat.  It was no big deal.  And after having gone through a cystoscopy (putting a camera up the manliest of parts) done, and that they made me do without anesthesia, never again I tell you.  But it has prepared me that I can handle the colonoscopy.

So what has changed my mind?  What are the risks for and against?  I have lost too many friends to colon cancer.  My body was exposed to too much when I was treated for Hodgkin’s Disease.  Contrary to a magazine that should probably stick to writing about microwave ovens and stereo systems, I have two of the most important reasons to pursue any cancer screening available to me, no matter the results or the risks, my daughters.

I know the risks involved with a colonscopy and an endoscopy.  I also know the risks with my past health history.  But I am getting these done in the best facility I have faith in.  I believe I have the best doctor performing these procedures.  And though these are fairly common procedures, something can go wrong.  I have faith in the doctor and her team that if something does go wrong, I am in the best possible place to handle such.  I can handle any more of a diagnosis I may get, or be completely revealed that all I have to deal with is from the scan last week.

The rest is up to me.  I need to follow the prophylactic care prescribed, and the caution I am given in my recovery.  Other than that, it is up to my body and its physiology, of which I realize I have no control how things act and react.  My plan is to be back here by Wednesday night.  And though I have no intention of becoming the colonoscopy spokesboy, I do anticipate being able to say, it was “no big deal” and glad to have had it done and be sure.

Time for me to “Man Up.”

My First Visit To Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center


March 3, 1995 was a day that I had waited for five years to occur.  I was going to use the word “cured” with confidence that my Hodgkin’s Disease would be gone forever.  I had learned so much over those five years.  I had to watch if I got a high fever, keep an eye out for lumps and discolorations, all common sense stuff that I could do on my own without having to pay a co-pay for.  And in spite of statistics being based on five year survival rates, there was no evidence that I was going to comply with those odds.  Things were on my side for a long life.

I recently wrote a post on “big hospital vs. little hospital” so I won’t repeat my thoughts on that at this time.  As far as I was concerned, it was life as usual.  I would see my family doctor, whose practice is an hour away from my home, once a year, for a seasonal allergy shot.  I never thought about hospitalization, because prior to my Hodgkin’s Disease, I did not need to worry about hospitals.

But then I got the rude awakening when I dared to complain about a symtpom that I had ignored for nearly four months.  I was told that I needed open heart surgery at age 42, and it was due to radiation damage from my treatments eighteen years earlier.  I was at a hospital that I was more than familiar with for many reasons, of which is another post.  But the Lehigh Valley Hospital was one of the biggest networks in the area, so I felt in good hands.

One of the first things that I should have done when I got out of the hospital was head to Atlantic City or Las Vegas.  I was one of the luckiest people on the planet because I not only pre-empted my pending fatal heart attack, but I would come to find out, after getting my surgical report, that my surgery was based on the care for the average heart patient, not for someone exposed to four times the lifetime exposure of radiation and chemotheraputic drugs such as Bleomyacin,  Adriamyacin and other anthracycline drugs.  Decisions that were made then, could have had much different results.  Neither my doctors, nurses, or myself knew what was at risk.

In the past, I had been involved with an on-line support group for Long Term Survivors of cancer.  Up until now, I had never felt like I belonged there, because everyone that I had met on this list, were dealing with ailments blamed on their cancer treatments, cardiac, pulmonary, liver, secondary cancers, etc..  At worst, any issues that I had been dealing with from my cancer treatments were some hair that had not grown back, infertility issues, and thyroid issues.  Up until now.  So the first thing I did from the hospital was not visit a casino or play the lottery, I went back to those that I knew, would know best.

I am not qualified to define what exactly a “Long Term Cancer Survivor” is, or determine what criteria is to be met.  There is no committee collecting membership dues.  There is no ruler.  There are moderators, who are survivors themselves facing severe health issues related to their treatments, and they have the unpopular challenge of protecting each participant from common email attacks or personality clashes.  The fact is, we have enough to deal with.  And so it began, the journey to find doctors who specialize in long term cancer survivors.

Unfortunately, long term side effects are not widely studied by primary care physicians, specialists, and other caregivers.  Only in recent years does the discipline even have a recognizable heartbeat with an occasional article in the New England Journal or other publication.  Of course, the researchers and pharmacutical companies did not spend much time or money on late side effects, because we were not expected to survive a lifetime.  But we do.

Through the Childrens Oncology Group, I learned that there were two facilities that were within a decent day’s road trip, in Philadelphia at the University Of Pennsylvania and in Manhattan at Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center.  From the internet support group, I knew a lot more about the program at MSKCC, but knew that both hospitals were some of the best in the country.

Scared, and running out of hope, I contacted the first name that I recognized from MSKCC, Dr. O.  In him, I struck gold.  He originally practiced in Texas.  For decades, this doctor studied Hodgkin’s Disease and survivorship of the late effects from treatments.  To get an appointment with him was the equivalent of winning the lottery.  I know of some other patients that see him, and knew that I was being cared for by the best, the leader, the example for survival care.  Through his leadership and mentorship, there are now many survivor clinics accross the United States, and the knowledge is now spreading across the world.  Survivors of cancer were not only being recognized, being represented, but being cared for.

Today, there are protocols for new patients when they reach the end of their treatments.  The medicines and procedures are less invasive, less toxic, and result in less severe side effects, but to be honest, the risks do still exist.  That is why there is the Relay For Life and Stand Up 2 Cancer.  Better ways of diagnosing and treating cancer need to, and can still be found.  With the follow-up protocol, the chances for picking up a late developing side effect, or secondary cancer, can now be found earlier and have the better success to survive, as if surviving cancer was not enough of a challenge.

My first trip to Manahattan since high school was overwhelming enough let alone to walk into one of the greatest medical facilities in the world.  I was greeted by Nick, also known as the “Ambassador” who gave me the instructions I needed to locate Dr. O’s office.  It was there that I met Beth, a nurse practitioner who had spent a long time with the cancer survivor program.  We spent close to an hour going over my health history.  She offered me compassion, empathy, and care as it was obvious, an entire new world was collapsing all around me.  I thought I was only going to be talking about cardiac issues.  But there was so much more.

Eventually, Dr. O came in and spent another hour with me, this time explaining all the things that had been discovered about cancer survivors like me, what had been done to me, and what would need to be done to care for me.  As he put it, “I want to make sure that your grandchildren get to know the great man you are and what you have been through.”  Okay, I was not really thinking about grandparenthood at 42, but I like his long term thinking.  Together we came up with a plan including retrieving my old records to find out exactly what I had been exposed to, and compare what they now know as far as what to look for in late developing side effects.  These are all things that are done now with current patients.

Nearly five years later, comparisons can now be made for me that show the progression of any of the side effects as there were no basline studies done on me 23 years ago.  I have a complete understanding of what my survival has meant to me, but also what it means to others, my family, my friends, and other survivors.  There are millions of us who have survived cancer.  Not all surivivors will develope side effects.  Not all survivors will know if what they may be dealing with may actually be attributed to their treatments.  That could be a good thing, take it from me.  It is a Pandora’s Box to know that more issues can occur, will occur, to know the increased risks at being proactive or letting things take their course.

This past week, it had been confirmed a symptom that I complained about two years ago, had returned, and why.  It is also suspected of causing a serious bout of “aspiration pneumonia” two months ago.  but this is just the beginning stages as further investigation will take place later this week to get an overall view from beginning to end, and then a new treatment plan will be determined as I continue to age towards grandparenthood.  Thankfully, because of Dr. O, and more than a dozen other caregivers that he has me deal with, I am going to get that chance.

On No! It’s Snow!


Next week is going to be a very busy week, and a very important week.  I suppose I will get a lot of time to prepare for it this weekend as the weather fearmongerers are at it again.  We are to prepare for a snow storm of historic proportion.  My area is not expected to get hit as hard as say New England, but I need to take this storm, called Nemo, seriously.

Seriously.  Nemo?  An epic disasterous snow storm has been named after one of Disney’s most beloved characters?  I wonder if there are royalties in it for ABC for every time the Weather Channel mentions the name.  I do not see the point to have to give snow storms names now, but it looks like it is something I have to accept.

But again, seriously, the weather service could not come up with a more ferocious or evil name that begins with an “N”?  Nosferatu.  Napoleon.  Nixon.  Nina (of 99 Luftballoons).

In areas of severe amounts of snowfall, you never hear local residents express fear, despiration, panic as today’s trends seem to take us.  Syracuse, Erie, Denver, Minnesota all see more snow in one day often more than we see in an entire year.  Growing up, I remember being able to shovel out tunnels from the snow piles, barely able to lift my legs above the surface of the snowfall.  Of course, as a child, this often meant a snow day off from school.  Snowball battles, skiing, forts, were all the pure enjoyment of a major snowfall.

I recall in my high school years, attending school in a district that did not provide bus transportation, we never saw snow days.  You either took public transportation, a relative drive you to school, or you walked.  Now if you will excuse me, I will now channel my grandparents for the following speech… “why, when I was a kid, I had to walk uphill and downhill, four miles each way, across high bridges, heavy rains, head high snow piles and…”  Phew they are gone just before they can add “barefoot”.  But where I lived that is exactly what happened.  Whenever I visit home with my family, I am always quick to remind them, I actually did it.

But on February 11, 1983, we did get hit with a major snow storm that did have an impact on school, over two feet.  It did shut everything down.  But I definitely do not recall every hearing “end of the world” tones and having to rush out and strip the shelves of everything from bread to toilet paper.  It would snow.  The snow would stop.  We would shovel.  Then move on.  In fact, while many schools had cancelled even the next day, our schools were open, even without a delay.

I still love the snow today.  I have had to alter my lifestyle a bit due to recent health issues.  My heart surgery caused an approximate ten degree drop in temperature tolerance meaning the cold bothers me a little easier.  To think, just five years ago, I was still wearing shorts in January and February regardless of the weather.  Pulmonary issues make it a little more difficult to trudge in the snow.  But then of course, there is age.  Once we hit our mid-30’s it seems we become concerned with the act of shoveling snow.  It is a fact, that snow shoveling is one of the more strenuous acts many of us do, made worse by the fact that it is not often that we have to do it, and we do not train for it.  But we have heard story after story of someone having a heart attack while shoveling snow.

Nearly five years ago, unknowingly, I could have faced that fate.  With a fatal condition developing over the years from radiation therapy for my Hodgkin’s Disease, the main artery to my heart at that point of winter was now close to 90% blocked or scarred.  As it would be discovered just two months later during a stress test, it was literally seconds before the blood flow was restricted to my heart.  I felt it happen.  It scared me.  I stopped.  The feeling stopped.  I went about my business.  Until April.  Following that stress test and subsequent heart bypass surgery, I was told that I had actually prevented what was destined to be a fatal heart attack.  This should have been enough of an attention-getter.

The following winter after my heart surgery, I must admit, I was outside with the snow shovel as always.  I have a three care driveway and approximately 150 feet of sidewalk to shovel.  That winter was not particularlly difficult as far as deep amounts or frequency of storms, but I was out there with shovel in hand.  I found out, that I have neighbors as well, who knew of my health history and quickly came out with their own shovels and snow blowers scolding me to put the shovel down and get back inside.

But being from a stubborn family, I believed that I could still shovel.  Two things I did under my own power, mow my lawn and shovel snow.  Last winter, I finally caved in.  After the first of three decent snowfalls, I could tell that my body was no longer up to shoveling, lifting, and tossing snow.  To push it any harder would have been foolish.  And I know that (see the post “Stress Kills).  So prior to the second storm, I broke down and got a snowblower.  And it was not so bad using it.  And I could still enjoy being out in the snow, and not end up being “out” in the snow.

So for those of us in the path of the Might Nemo, have fun, do not be afraid.  Snow is no different than when we were children.  But the consequences of not using common sense as adults is what is to be of concern.  If you must shovel, pay the neighbor kid to do it.

writer’s note = I woke up this morning (February 9th) to a history, epic, monstrous two inches of dry powder snow.  Of course, the local grocery store shelves were empty, gas got bumped up a nickel a gallon just in time… thank you Nemo and the weather mongerers for the shot into the local economy you gave us.

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