Cancer's a B: The Longest Yard

So many people inquire about my recovery. How I am doing. The main thing I have learned is that colon cancer recovery is a linear process, not one with major leaps of recovery. It is a slow process, very slow.

This bothers me. I am still understanding why my body is so slow to recovery. Part of me still expects my body to bounce back and start going to the gym again. Unfortunately I am not allowed to lift more than 10 lbs for another three weeks. 

One of the better illustrations I give people in regards to my recovery, is a football field. Think of how the field consists of 100 yards. And since I am told this could be a six month recovery, it might take two trips down the football field.   

Now the one thing to understand is that each day presents a new challenge. One day it was figuring out energy preservation and stairs. Another day was dealing with bathroom trips every 15-30 minutes. Then there was battling the effects of C.Diff infection. And I certainly will not forget the challenge anal leakage day.  

But here's the thing. Despite all the new challenges and audibles called, at the end of the day, I move forward a yard. From the outside looking in, it might look like I am scrambling around looking for an open wide receiver, heck I might even fumble a few times, but at the end of the play, I seem to figure out a way to move ahead one yard. 

Other examples I could use is the Rabbit and the Tortoise with a mantra of "slow and steady wins the race". Or each day another grain of sand is dropped into the hourglass. Small steps, slow and steady pace.

Listening to your body plays a big role in recovery too. It was listening to my body that allowed me to become very direct about getting a colonoscopy. My previous doctor kept chalking the blood in my stool as hemorrhoids and passed on the test. Something about not being 50. Well I obviously disagreed and unfortunately was correct, it wasn't hemorrhoids.

Another aspect about listening to your body is that it allows you to understand if any progress is happening. When I look at my weight loss and gain, this is another linear process. Since being released from the hospital three weeks ago and given the green light to eat whatever, I have not gained a pound. I am still sporting my Junior High weight.

I eat at least six times a day and each is a decent size meal. But then six hours later it is in the toilet. So there's hardly anytime for my body to absorb or take in nutrients.

My lack and inability to gain weight does bother me, I am not a fan of looking like Skeletor. But when I take a step back and take in the big picture, I calm down and focus. My color is back to normal after sporting lovely shades of pale and jaundice yellow. So that's a positive. I am not losing weight, so that's a positive. There's no blood in my stool so that's a positive. And most importantly, I can eat. There's no nausea or issue eating. Even though I am not gaining weight, there is still progress in my weight department. Only it's a yard and not 15 pounds.

Then there's the fact I am still walking and moving around like a 90-year-old hunchback. Mentally I feel like I should at least be at 70-year-old recent hip replacement speed. This is the mental game involved with a slow recovery and if you do not succumb to the slow pace, it will drive you mad. And possibly rip some internal stitches and sutures.

Now, let me take this time to tell you about the actual colon surgery itself. This is intense. 

First off, it is important to note that the colon has a "sac" or "liner" around it that can not be cut, torn or ripped. Now the actual medical term isn't "sac" or "liner", but that's basically what it is and it can not be cut. So, in order to cut out the cancer tumor the surgeon detached the colon completely. They cut the top of the colon which connects to the intestines and stomach area, and also cut the bottom, which connects the bottom area. 

When the surgeon was explaining to me the process of what they were going to do to me, I drifted off into daydream land where my colon was floating freely around the inside of my body. Then I thought of how much that would hurt in at least three places. Ouch to the third power.

After they detach the colon, they use their robotic surgery devices to go inside the colon and cut out the cancer along with some of the surrounding colon tissue too. 

Next they sew up the sliced area inside the sac, then they reattach the top and bottom connections of the colon. After my surgeon's explanation I realized this was a major surgery. Much more intense than I had thought.

The explanation does help when I get annoyed at my lack of mobility. I imagine my colon just floating around aimlessly and that usually ends my pity party pretty quick. 

Talking with the different doctors about my slow recovery has been interesting too. Each one adds an important piece of understanding to slow recovery. Different specialties, different perspectives. And to layer them together helps too.

One of the reasons the bathroom visits are still frequent is my colon is trying to understand its new size and role. Stretching and expanding, muscle memory and figuring out its holding pattern.

Then there's the deeper analysis. The colon has six layers to it. I visualize the chunk removed and the new stitched area trying to heal and reprogram itself to its new reality.    

I think about all the nerve endings involved with the surgery. You have the colon, the top of the colon and the bottom. That's a lot of nerve ending trying to repair themselves. A lot of nerve endings trying interpret and sync up the healing colon with other organs. No wonder this is a long slow process with confused organs. 

The incision from the surgery is a challenge too. The cut is horizontal on my stomach adjacent to my belly button. Another way to put it is that it's on the fold area when I sit. There's irritation and often pain due to this incision. 

Another challenge, another day. It's hard enough trying to muster up enough energy to carry you through the day, having to take on new challenges while handling current challenges, can become quite the daunting task of physical energy. There's even some mental juggling and or ping pong.

100 yards, 100 days. That's kinda the mantra of the moment. The slow acceptance seems to be a healthy way to approach the situation and altered lifestyle. Although it might take six months to recover, taking 100 days at at a time seems to work just fine. If I need more time to recover, then it's back to the metaphorical grid iron for another 100 yards, I mean days.

A group of Jason's friends, colleagues and family members have an online benefit fund. If you would like to donate or find out more, click here - https://lendahandup.org/help-a-family/#/charity/91