Two months

Two months ago today was when I met with Dr. Saddler to go over my endoscopy/colonoscopy results. She told me then that I had esophageal cancer.

Today has found me in a bit of a reminiscing mood about that day. I had spent labor day weekend sailing during Annapolis Race Week. I had a colonoscopy/endoscopy scheduled for Tuesday, which made the Monday a fun day of sailing with the liquid fast I was on. Nonetheless, Medicine Man kicked a whole lot of butt on the Bay that weekend, taking first in class with three bullets on Monday to seal the win.

On Tuesday after the colonoscopy, Dr. Saddler came to check me out in recovery and told me that she'd found a couple polyps down south, and that she'd found a mass just above my stomach. Fast forward to Thursday morning. I got a call from her office letting me know that she wanted to see me that afternoon, and that she'd blocked off her afternoon to visit with me. At that point, I knew that it was cancer, and I spent the rest of the day trying to get ready to hear the official news.

She brought me into her office, sat me down, and told me that the mass was cancer. From there, I don't remember a whole lot. I do remember being able to sit for a bit and tried to listen, but broke down when I thought about having to tell Jen (she was flying on her way back from the convention in MSP). Dr. Saddler gave me a few minutes to collect myself, and tracked down Dr. Ahlgren, the GWU oncologist, who came in and told me that there was a treatment plan, and that he'd seen a "few" long-term survivors with this metastatic disease. That was the first indication that he wasn't going to be our oncologist...

From there, Dr. Saddler had me go over for another CT to make sure that the pain in my side wasn't a clot in my lung. I was in the big radiology waiting area when Jen called after she landed. That call with her was the hardest call I've ever made in my life. How do you tell your wife, your best friend, that you have cancer? In the end, I just asked her if she was ready, and if she was really ready, and I told her. I still tear up thinking about it... Bless her heart, she called Mom & Dad and her folks so that I didn't have to. At that point, my side was hurting pretty bad and was affecting my breathing so that I couldn't really cry, so having her call was a lifesaver for me.

The rest of that night was a total blur. I remember talking with Mom or Dad while I was waiting for my CT and doing my best to hold it together. After my CT, I headed home and saw Jen. I told her no crying, only because it hurt too bad that day. We ordered pizza and sat down to watch the beginning of the s*&$show that was the final few weeks of the election season.

Now, after a couple rounds of treatment are behind me, I feel great. The pain in my side has disappeared, except if I take a big yawn. I was pretty tired this week after chemo, but was able to work a bit and get some things done, which I am immensely grateful for. There will be another post on "chemo brain" yet to come!

Jen and I are so blessed by all your prayers, cards, letters, emails, and phone calls. They have helped us through the darkest days and sleepless nights. Please keep them coming!

Jen had the best line of the day today. What do you give cancer on it's two-month anniversary? A big f'n bag of chemo, that's what!