And Now for Something Completely Different – A Journey Through Cancer, Uncertainty, and Life.

“In an era of stress and anxiety, when the present seems unstable and the future unlikely, the natural response is to retreat and withdraw from reality, taking recourse either in fantasies of the future or in modified visions of a half-imagined past.”
― Alan Moore, Watchmen

The suggestion for this blog was to talk about my father or a father figure in my life. I think we’ll skip that. Also, I can’t recall if I used the quote above in an earlier entry. I suppose it doesn’t matter — seems a bit fitting.

I’m starting this on December 20, 2022. It has since seen several modifications.

I spent most of 2022 fighting cancer. Bile duct. Nasty business. It’s certainly capped off this trilogy of years as the worst I’ve dealt with. But, hey, we’ve all had our challenges.

Aside from a few random cat photos on Instagram and trying to fill up my fantasy hockey league, I’ve been radio silent on the ‘ol social media platforms for almost this entire year. For the three or four folks that read this thing, you know that I am known for going months at a time without as much as a peep or squeak. That’s nothing new. Normally, I’m just void of ideas. Or neck deep in a project that requires all of my creative attention.

This time around was a little different.

In February, I started experiencing some pretty gnarly pain in my stomach. For those who know my history, you know that pain is a rarity when it comes to my health. Most Crohn’s/Colitis patients have their fair share and I am certainly a fortunate exception. On the other side of that, I know my body well enough to know to expect changes at any time. At first, I kind of figured it was just one of those things that would work itself out. It kept on with my usual day to day and just pushed on through. The pain settled in and decided to get a bit worse. Some nights I couldn’t even stand up straight. Others just saw me with my head on my desk as the world turned and turned. When you go through life without a part of your digestive system, you quickly learn to just roll with the changes and punches. Still, something about this seemed a bit off.

So I broke down and consulted with my GI. Usual business followed. Blood work. Ultrasound. We’ll skip the episode where I was told to go to the ER only to sit there for three hours without ever being seen. A nightmare of an evening.

In the middle of this, on March 21, my Aunt Jean passed away. Jean was my mom’s younger sister and her passing was completely unexpected. The last time I saw her was at my wedding in 2018. I won’t sit here and pretend that we were close. I certainly do wish that had been the case. I should have known her better. Distance in miles and ways of living do not equal good enough reasons. But, unfortunately, that’s just how things turned out. But I can say that she was a wonderful person. Kind. Generous. She certainly deserved the best that life had to offer. And I hope she had it. And I hope the afterlife is everything she wanted it to be.

We’ll just jump ahead to when I was admitted to Ruby Memorial in Morgantown for a few nights. This was near the end of March. They wanted to do some more tests to figure this thing out. MRI. ERCP. A lot of blood draws. An IV placed in a part of the arm that should never seen a needle. It was a bit much. But I’m not one to complain.

Doctor comes in one morning and says they didn’t like what they found. MRI and ERCP showed some suspicious areas in and around the liver. Not uncommon for someone with PSC (Primary sclerosing cholangitis is a chronic liver disease in which the bile ducts inside and outside the liver become inflamed and scarred, and eventually narrowed or blocked. When this happens, bile builds up in the liver and causes further liver damage — the more you know). I was a little taken back at first. It was the first time anyone had floated the possibility that this was something outside of my usual norm. And that’s all it was at the time. A possibility. We still had to run through the gamut of tests before a firm decision could be made.

Obviously we reached the decision. Cancer. That dreaded word. The diagnosis that people just never want to hear (and one that far too many people get every single day).

So where did that leave us? Treatment was essential, yes, but what about the surgical options? I was presented with two choices. Operate and get that part of the duct removed. Or. Liver transplant. I hadn’t really considered the latter as a possibility. I knew–as I have for years–that a transplant would be needed at some point. With the PSC, that’s really the only way to go. But PSC can move at the speed of a glacier and folks really don’t have a solid timetable on when that is going to go down.

Transplant made sense. A far bigger risk, yes, but it solved two problems at the same time. At least that’s how I saw it. The liver was going to have to go anyway. Might as well just chuck it now.

So that was the start. I spent the summer seeing doctor after doctor after doctor. Had 30 radiation treatments coupled with chemo (just the pill form). Took a tiny break. Started IV chemo in October. Then Britt and I got Covid. How about that, eh? Managed to avoid it and then it just decided to creep in at a very inopportune time. So that set me back about 20 days. And yeah, for those who haven’t had it, trust me, it sucks. A lot. But we got past it and moved along. I had my last chemo treatment on Tuesday the 20th (when I started working on this entry).

I want to say this. I got lucky. Very lucky. We caught this thing early. And I certainly got the easier end of the shit stick when it came to treatments and side effects. It was still garbage but I know it could have been 100 times worse.

I want to add a second layer on top of the lucky bit. And this is where this entry has taken an unexpected plot twist. I was approved for a liver transplant in the fall. UPMC just so happens to be the leader in what they call living donor transplants. Basically someone comes in and hands over half of their liver. Mine gets cut out and I get the half. After a few months, donor and recipient are back to life with completely regrown livers. Yes, it is as cool as it sounds.

The lucky bit comes into play here because my sister-in-law, Kayla, stepped up and offered to do this for me. No one asked. No one floated the idea. She just did it. I was floored. My heart was full (and still is). She went through the entire process and yeah, she was a match. Everything had fallen where I needed it to.

January 3rd. 5:00 AM. We’re at UPMC and we are prepped for surgery. She was nervous (rightfully so). I was just ready to get things over with (again, rightfully so). The road had been long, bumpy, and I just wanted to get out of the car for a bit.

But as we all know, life doesn’t always work the way we want it to.

We knew going in that if the doctor’s found any cancer outside of the duct, then the transplant wouldn’t take place.

And that’s exactly what happened.

They sliced me open, removed a couple of lymph nodes, and busted out the microscopes. And sure enough, we had more cancer cells. It’s important to focus on the word cells there. Not masses. Not tumors. Just cells. That’s a positive.

Yeah, so that’s where we are. I got out of the hospital a few days later (with a massive incision going from my navel to my side). The next steps are already being worked out. Do I know what lies ahead? No. Does anyone? I doubt it. That’s why we go at life a day at a time. Sometimes even slower if need be.

I kept myself occupied as best as I could from the onset of everything. I stayed working. Night shift is a pain as is. Throw chemo and radiation and all that other business on top and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a grumpy Gus. I rediscovered my enjoyment for gaming after successfully tackling Elden Ring. I kept with my usual tradition of falling horribly behind on television and movies (a thing I’ve stated numerous times that I plan on fixing during my downtime). I fell behind on reading as well. And we won’t even broach the topic of my own writing (spoiler alert — it just didn’t exist this year). My usual activities are a challenge sometimes. Focusing is tough. My memory has been spotty. I usually exist with super low energy as is but even that has dipped.

I also kept most of this from the public. To be honest, I really didn’t want to tell anyone. I don’t care to open up about myself or my life. Some people knew, yes, and believe me, they were invaluable. And I knew that it would be a bit tough to keep the secret in the shed once I got into the thick of it. I just didn’t want it to become a thing, you know? And I still don’t. I think that I keep coming back to this silly blog when I need to get my head right (a way of saying this is just for me in a weird way). I don’t want to be a hashtag. I am not seeking sympathy (or any type of reaction really). It’s best that we all just keep moving forward.

Oh, yeah, our landlord decided to sell the house we were renting. This was back in November. Right in the middle of chemo treatments. Luckily, we worked out some stuff, and got into a new (and better) place. I was (again) mega fortunate to have a ton of help with the whole moving process. That whole thing kind of chewed into my ass a little bit. But, it’s all said and done, and we’re better off for it.

I don’t really need to get into some long winded speech about the value of life. I see it this way — you shouldn’t need some life altering diagnosis to change your outlook on the world. It often works that way, I know, and that’s a shame. Things aren’t always going to work out. You aren’t going to get a hit every time you get up to the plate. That’s why it’s best to enjoy it when you do. Has any of this changed how I see and feel and act? Maybe. I still have bad days. I still retreat from reality on occasion. I go days without talking to anyone. But I only see this ending one way and that’s with me standing tall. There are no other options. No other choices. I am going to win. I look at cancer like I look at damn near everything else. It’s just one more thing to get past. One more obstacle that I get to knock down and step over. I won’t ever win the Stanley Cup. You’ll never see me with the WWE title at the end of WrestleMania. But you’re sure as hell going to see me take this victory when it comes.

Best advice I have for today and for every day — don’t waste your time. Not on anything. Or anyone. We only get so much of it, you know. So, yeah, use it and use it as best as you can. Move at a reasonable pace, think, and find the direction that is going to put a smile on your face and an even bigger smile on the faces of those who love you.

Kayla, I am eternally grateful. I love you and I am more than lucky to have you as a sister.

Until next time,

-TR