Entering the Workforce
I graduated massage school and immediately took the MBLEX. I thought it was far too easy. Immediately I got a job at a chain and went to work. I thought this company was different from the other mega chains of the land, but I was wrong. I had high hopes, I needed a place to plant my roots and grow. Unfortunately like every step of my journey this too was a disappointment. The franchise owners were unlike any boss I have ever had. They described their business as a family, during my orientation the owners said, “Just call us Mom and Dad.”
What?. I already have a mother and father, and you don’t fit the bill. I am a grown man, I’m not about to start calling them my parents. I thought to myself.
Instead of referring to them as my parental units I chose to use their professional titles, I could tell they did not appreciate it. It didn’t matter, I felt their request was inappropriate and disrespectful.
Life Continues
Five months passed since that cold fateful day; my crimson cough became my life. It was a strange, lonely time of confusion and pain. No one likes to be around the person coughing up blood, and I can’t blame them, I wouldn’t either, it’s scary. Witnessing someone spit up blood is horrific; it is a clear indication of disease and death, who would want to be around that?
Eventually a fearful friend had the vision to force me to get a second opinion. This is what started my journey and saved my life. It was this road that led me to a path to see a pulmonologist. Her focus and persistence ordered an assortment of scans and tests revealing a tumor in my lung. She wanted a closer look, so she arranged a bronchoscopy party, and I was the guest of honor.
It was a party like no other. The walls were a sterile white and fluorescent light set the stage for the festivities. I was nervous, anxious, cautious perhaps as I sat in an uncomfortable hospital chair. My stomach ached, filled with uncertainty and fear as I waited for them to unromantically jam a tube deep into my throat.
It was a party and like all good parties we needed to indulge ourselves with some liquid courage. Unfortunately their beverage of choice wasn’t alcohol, it was an agent that eliminated my gag reflex. Before the nurse started she gave me a half smile and said, “This is going to taste really bad.”
I opened my mouth and she sprayed.
“Oh my god!” She was right. To give you an idea of how it tasted, imagine chewing a mouth full of aspirin, mixed with blood and embalming fluid. It was not moments of discomfort; it was twenty minutes of pure agony, but at least it was funny.
When my gag reflex eased away they continued their romance. I crawled onto the medical table and then they started sticking me with things and injecting me with stuff. A few moments later I found myself falling into a deep, twilight sleep.
I remember waking in a fit of tears, not sure why I was feeling this way or where things were. I spent some time recovering after the procedure and went home.
Later I returned to discover the results of the bronchoscopy. My pulmonologist said I had an almond sized tumor in my lung. She said that my lung was partially collapsed and filled with blood. They sucked out all the crimson nastiness and scraped it for samples. I had a sigh of relief when she said it was benign, and all this could be solved with an easy, noninvasive surgery. She said my surgical team would go in discreetly by poking some holes in my chest and use some fancy robots to cut out a small portion of my lung. Worst case scenario I would be in tip top shape in two or three days. This was great! A few days recovery is easy, everything was going to be OK.
It was not easy, the journey never is, nothing is easy.
To have these robots poked into my side, I needed to see a fancy surgeon, one who specialized in friendly thoracic cuts, so she sent me to a thoracic surgeon. I called the doctor’s office, got an appointment, and went in to hear what he had to say.
Meeting the Thoracic Surgeon
I waited in an old, worn and aesthetically out of date office. It was a long wait, so I spent a lot of time looking around at things, there were a lot of archaic equipment in the room. It was a creepy place to say the least. Once he entered the room my heart raced, the reality of what was to be, began to become real. This surgery was going to happen. I swallowed and listened as he began to speak.
What I thought was going to be a conversation about a sleeve resection, became something worse. My tumor went from benign to malignant. It went from no cancer to stage one cancer, from a few days of recovery to several months. He said removing a small piece of my lung was no longer an option, instead I had to lose my entire lung.
He said the C word… Cancer. My world twisted, turned, and wrapped in on itself. I was flooded with feels and it was terrifying. Time slowed as my mind went numb.
“You are lucky Mr. White. If there is one kind of cancer to get it is yours. Carcinoids are rarely a big issue, and with your surgery you will probably return to a fulfilling life.”
“Is there anything I could read online about it?” I asked.
“I would suggest against researching your cancer, it will only get you worked up. There is a lot of inaccurate information online and it will only confuse you.” He replied.
“Do I have to get my entire lung removed?” I pleaded.
“You have a slow growing cancer, you could wait to get it removed, but eventually it will have to go.”
“Are you sure? Do you know anyone I could go to for a second opinion?” I was searching for another way, I didn’t want this, I thought the procedure would be fast and simple, I wanted to return to my life.
He stared at me unapprovingly.
“Can you give me the name of someone I could talk to? Someone who might have another outlook?” I was searching for a way out. Maybe he was wrong, there had to be another answer to all of this, I thought to myself. I needed a second opinion.
“We don’t have anyone we would suggest. I am certain this is your best and only answer.” He sighed. “Fortunately you won’t have to do any chemotherapy and radiation. Once we remove it you should be good.” I drove home angry and afraid. My world was just turned upside down and my pieces were falling out. I was so enraged I wanted to shout. Pulling into my driveway I parked and sat to collect my thoughts. Slowly I eased into what had to be done, I was in a lot of pain and could hardly breathe, so I succumbed to my destiny, and chose the direction of becoming cancer free.
