I thank God that I got cancer.It was two weeks before my 37th birthday that I (reluctantly) went to see a Urologist about an “abnormality” in one of my testicles. I first noticed it 9 months prior and like a typical male, I shrugged it off as a non-issue. As the weeks and months progressed, I noticed the size of the testicle increase and change in texture. It was now unusually firm. I had spent countless hours trolling every medical website in a desperate attempt to self-diagnose. As I searched every possible outcome, one was a constant and distinct possibility: cancer. I was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. Its a great city and a fantastic place to raise a family, but it has also been consistently ranked in the top 10 of the nation’s “fattest cities”. I used to fit into this paradigm perfectly, eating an unhealthy diet of Mexican food, fast food and binge drinking soda. At my heaviest, I weighed in at close to 220 lbs. I’m 5’7…you do the math. Did I know it was wrong at the time? Absolutely! Did I care? Maybe a little, but I was young. I was invincible. I had all the time in the world… or so I thought. What I failed to realize at the time is a little thing called consequence. So there I sat nervously in the waiting room, desperately trying to convince myself that what I had was normal, probably some sort of infection that would go away with antibiotics. Upon a physical inspection, I began to come to the realization that things would not go my way. I could see it on the Dr’s face. He immediately sent me across the hall for an ultrasound. Still, I held the faintest hope that it could be something else, but soon that hope would be gone as well. The Doctor reviewed my ultrasound and immediately ordered a CT scan, blood-work and scheduled me for surgery. “Cancel your business trip”, he said. Wow. It was 5:00pm on a Friday afternoon. I was the very last patient in the office, and I just got the Cancer bomb dropped in my lap. Not the ideal way to start the weekend
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 21:52:47 +0000