The Ass Cancer Chronicles

We lovingly dubbed this past week “Hell Week”, due to an appointment or surgery basically everyday. This is the last push before receiving something I really, really long for: a routine- something that is consistent within all of this and I think that the Ass Cancer Boss (Anal Oncologist) that I see on Friday will provide more insight to that. BUTT… we had to get this shit out of the way first. Behold! The schedule…

The Schedule

• Monday, 11/4 – Surgery to insert the Port for chemotherapy
• Tuesday, 11/5 – Work Day (and election day, woof)
• Wednesday, 11/6
  • Ovary Relocation & Fallopian Tubes removal surgery
  • Prep for PET scan
• Thursday, 11/7 – PET scan & potential Radiation mold created
• Friday, 11/8
  • Half Work Day
  • Meet with the Anal Oncologist, aka Ass Cancer Boss, aka BOWSE (as Rick Ross would lovingly say)

Details re: The Schedule

Monday was the outpatient surgery for the port.
As I entered the OR, I thought about how this was one of two surgeries that would take place this week. I glanced around at medical equipment that was both common and uncommon to my non-medical professional brain, and then stared up at the high ceiling. Tears silently spilled over from my eyes, and I concentrated on the steps that the surgical team would take instead of the actual fear & overwhelm. It was a conscious-anesthesia surgery where I was conscious the whole time with a drape over my face, facing to the left.

Miss Marie, one of the surgical nurses asked me when I had found out (when you’re getting a port placed, they know what’s up – plus, they have my chart).

“Thursday, October 17th” I said.

“That’s a lot, girl.” Shit, tell me something I don’t know. She said it so compassionately and vulnerably that it made me feel comfortable. Seen, even.

“Yeah, I just got overwhelmed. It’s a lot” which was 100% the truth because everything right now is overwhelming. I’m embarking on some journey that I know essentially nothing about (and refuse to google).

What was SUPER neat was going under conscious anesthesia. They draped a surgical sheet situation over my face while I lay on my back and looked to my left. I could hear everything they were doing while they worked to insert the port. THAT, for me, was VERY COOL.

I’m just going to skip over Tuesday, because meh. Whatever.

Wednesday was wild: Relocation of the ovaries & removal of the fallopian tubes.
I decided to get this surgery based among other options (which I will explain). Although I wasn’t excited to put by body through a surgery prior to treatment, I also felt, given all of the information, that it was the best route for me to go.

Another opportunity was to keep the ovaries right where they were, let the radiation rip, and work with hormone therapy to assist with the damage caused. I wasn’t interested in this, and not due to all of the inaccurate studies form the 80s and 90s, but because I wanted a solution that would be longer term.

Relocating the ovaries & removing the tubes will prevent radiation damage that would occur with treatment. No, I’m not having anymore babies (heyell to the no n-n-nooooo no noooo), butt I’m also not trying to go into early menopause and create tons of other issues right now.

SO! What did they do? Well, they performed a laparoscopic situation, moved the ovaries & and out of the way, and removed the fallopian tubes. Don’t ask me where they are – I’m not a doctor – they’re just no longer in the danger zone, and that’s all I care about.

Thursday. PET Scan
The PET Scan was needed in order to see if/where the cancer had spread to other parts of the body, so upon coming out of surgery from the ovary sitch, I kept a diet of no carbs, no sugar, lots of protein, no coffee, which is not difficult because, well, I don’t eat a lot anyway. So, did that while taking lots of drugs and sleeping.

Showed up for the PET Scan, got injected with the radioactivity (cue Imagine Dragons), and sat and read the rest of “The Women” by Kristin Hannah (stellar book about the women who served in Vietnam and the aftermath that ensued coming home, etc – def recommend – 5/5 stars). I had a really cool nuclear medicine tech named Steven (with a “v”, so you know he’s a G), who came in after about an hour, all forlorn looking, and let me know that the PET machine was broken.

Y’all, this dude was so nice, and so apologetic because he knew I was in pain from the surgery. I couldn’t help but laugh because here’s the thing, y’all – it’s not like anyone can control that, right? AND… this meant I got to go home and catch up on sleep, more drugs, and the Golden Bachelorette! Wooooo! I told Mr. Steven as much, thanked him, and was on my merry way home to do just that.

Friday, Meet with Ass Cancer Boss
This was my first time meeting Dr. Ellent; I’d been looking forward to meeting her since I heard the name a few weeks ago. Did I creep on the internet? Pft, of course I did. And I’m happy to report that she, much like eeeeevery single doctor, nurse, person, supporter on my ass cancer team is a wildly intelligent, beautiful, compassionate human being. We love this for us.

Because the PET scan machine broke down the day before, we weren’t able to analyze if/where it had spread, so a plan was made based upon what is known currently:

The Plan

1 round of chemo, divvyed up into two separate weeks. Radiation for 6 weeks straight, Monday through Friday.
The chemo will be given through my robot (the port). I will go home with the chemo in a small fanny pack, and it will hang out with me for a week, seeping into me and attacking the ass mass. Once it’s finished (end of the week), I go back, return said “fanny pack o’ ass mass killin’ chemo”, and then wait 3 weeks to do it again in the 4th week. I believe this explanation is mostly right, but will remind you that I’m still on drugs as I write this.

Basically, the chemo & radiation are going to shrink the ass mass all the way into non-existence. If that doesn’t fully work, a surgery will be needed to remove whatever’s left BUTT this is highly unlikely. The radiation and the chemo should do the trick, and everything should be gravy in a few months.

So what’s left to do… butttttttt

Shake & Bake!

This week fuuuuuuuucking sucked for me physically. Definitely not my favorite. Lots of poking and prodding, bloodwork, going under, coming back up, drugs drugs drugs, sleep, sleep, sleep, different diet, early appointments, all that.

BUTT! This week, I was able to really let go of any fear I had lingering re: the Ass Cancer.

How did I do that, you assk? Through recognizing the need to slow down, read good books, work where I can, and let my family / friends / Algiers Point community support me where they can. This shit truly takes a village. It takes a positive mindset even when you’re facing unknown, ambiguous scariness.

And, now, we’re about to get to the good stuff. The even harder stuff. The stuff that fucks this cancer up so hard that it doesn’t come back, and I’m here for it.

So hold on to your butts, as quoted in the incredibly educational and patriotic movie, Top Gun; it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

Throwin’ that ass in a circle since ’84,
Kirsten E.