On March 18, 2015, our lives changed unexpectedly. After noticing something unusual with “the boys” while on travel, I made an appointment with my urologist for as soon as I returned. A few blood tests and an ultrasound later, we were told that I likely had testicular cancer. I would need surgery as soon as possible to confirm. That surgery occurred less than 48 hours later.
I became intimately familiar with anxiety during the week that spanned the surgery and receiving the findings of the pathology report. By the night before our follow-up appointment, I was only able to sleep 15 minutes at a time. Suffice it to say Oliver did not have his usual sleep smile on anymore.
At 8:45am on Thursday, March 26, 2015, we received the news. I had testicular cancer and would need CT scans of my chest and abdomen to determine if the cancer had metastasized (spread). A few, long hours later, I was walking out of the imaging center with a DVD of my scans. I literally held my fate in my hands.
The urologist called us after hours on the same day to say he had reviewed the images and the radiology report. My chest CT was clear (great news!), but the abdominal CT showed three slightly enlarged lymph nodes in the retroperitoneal cavity. He could now classify my cancer as “clinical Stage IIA.” Clinical because the only way to confirm the enlarged nodes were cancerous was to biopsy or remove them. Stage IIA because (1) my blood markers were normal and (2) I had only three enlarged nodes and all were below the dimension limits.
At this point, all of our online research told us we had three options:
(1) Surveillance
(2) Chemotherapy
(3) Surgery
After visiting with medical and surgical oncologists at two of the leading institutions in the United States, we made the tough decision to have a retroperitoneal lymph node dissection (RPLND) as the primary course of treatment. This surgery carried a cure rate of 70-80% on its own, meaning there was a high chance that it may be the only treatment I needed.
On May 4, 2015, I underwent the RPLND surgery with Dr. Richard Foster at Indiana University. It lasted 1 hour, 25 minutes, and resulted in a 3-day hospital stay. I also got a very memorable souvenir.
Five days after the surgery, Dr. Foster called to let us know that the pathology report was back. Of the 34 lymph nodes he removed, only 2 were positive for cancer cells. I was being upgraded to “pathological Stage IIA.” In addition to confirming low-volume spread of the cancer, the pathology also confirmed that our decision to have surgery was not a bad one. I was more likely to be in the “cured” category than the “will still need chemo” category.
My road to recovery has been a very fortunate one, from what I’ve been told. I spent three uneventful days in the hospital, where I was sitting up within 24 hours, walking within 48 hours, off IV pain meds shortly thereafter, and discharged within 72 hours. My pain rarely climbed above a 3/10 on the scale and I only had one bout with nausea. It sent me to the emergency room, primarily because I didn’t get an anti-nausea prescription prior to discharge. Part of my incision re-opened after staples were removed on Day 14, but the hardship with this side effect was simply learning to re-pack an open wound twice daily.
Fast forward 7 weeks. On June 19, 2015, I met with my oncologist for my first “surveillance” visit. Since I am a pathological Stage IIA patient, I opted for surveillance in lieu of two cycles of adjuvant BEP chemo. Surveillance involves bi-monthly blood tests and a chest x-ray, with a CT scan of my abdomen every four months. With each passing year, these intervals spread out further until I am declared “cured” at Year 5.
Anyway, it was on June 23, 2015, that we got my first ALL CLEAR! Unlike the week-long wait for my initial pathology report, the waiting period for this news was free of anxiety. We know the path forward based on a good or bad outcome. We know the survival rate is 98-99% regardless. There is still a long road ahead, but we have faith that God is in control of our lives and we have placed our trust in His Will.