If I Have Cancer Again

I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. I have a small mass on my left kidney. I am seeing my oncologist next Friday to learn how to proceed. Since I have a history of cancer, I'm a little nervous that the mass might be malignant.

How did I discover this?  I drove myself to the emergency room because I had pain in my left side. They did a CT scan, and I was diagnosed with acute diverticulitis.  At that time, an ER doctor told me about the mass on my kidney. The doctor told me to call my oncologist in the morning, which I did. Turns out, she was on vacation, so I was counseled to work with my PCP until my specialist returned from her holiday.

I saw my PCP, and he referred me to a urologist. I saw the urologist, and he said that since I had a cancer history, he would defer to my oncologist. I made a complete circle, and I'm seeing my cancer doctor six weeks after “the thing” was discovered due to a CT scan for some other ailment.

I guess I'm lucky. If I hadn't had diverticulitis which required a scan to diagnose, I would have never learned about the kidney mass. And with these kinds of things, it's better to know than to not know. To catch things when they're small and in their initial stages.

The long and the short of it is that I might have cancer again.  Operative word — might. My psychologist told me not to jump to the worst-case scenario.

So, what if I do have cancer?  (Sorry, doc, but I must plan for the future.)

I’ll be a much smarter cancer patient. I’ll keep all my records in a go-to place: all my reports, insurance documents, receipts etc. Why? The first two times I had cancer (breast cancer) I didn’t know the facts of my own cancer narrative.  I want to know, for instance, the technical name of any new cancer and what might be causing it.

I’ll ask more questions: “What are the potential side effects of this treatment?” Why ask? Because I launched into treatments with negative effects. For instance, a breast cancer med made me suicidal. I wasn’t told that this might happen before it happened. All of a sudden, I was depressed and was thinking of taking my own life. The minute I stopped the med, the thought went away. If I have cancer again, I’ll make myself more informed by asking the right questions.

I’ll be more assertive. Why? Because I didn’t want breast implants in 2011, but I was told that “all women want breast implants.” I was totally lacking in personal power, so I went along with this misguided doctor and wound up with implants, which I eventually had removed. This time, I’ll stand up for myself.

If I have cancer for the third time, this time around…I’ll pray more.  Enough said.

I’ll keep it on the down-low. I’m not sure I’ll tell folks my business. Of course, I’ll write my blog posts, but I’m not sure I’ll tell the neighbors on my cul-de-sac what’s going on.  Too close for comfort.

I’ll quit my day job. I teach part-time at a local university. The last two times I had cancer (once in 2011 and the other time in 2016), I kept working, but I’m much older now — 63. I don’t think I’ll have the energy to deal with cancer and teach kids how to develop paragraphs and minimize comma splice errors.

So, readers, this time around, if I do have cancer again, things will be different.  I’m older and wiser and more experienced.

But one thing will remain the same; you will know what’s going on.  I’ll keep writing my cancer story for CURE Today.

I’ll check back in after my appointment.  Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, if you do that sort of thing.

Thank you for reading.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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