By Lorraine Cagliostro*
For me, being diagnosed with colon cancer made me feel as if my body had horribly betrayed me.
Healthy Me
In early 2008, as far as I knew, I was a healthy 53-year-old woman. Aside from being somewhat overweight on and off since adolescence and having smoked for a while before quitting in 1991, I had pretty much “played by the rules” in eating a balanced and healthy diet. I had no digestive or gastrointestinal issues whatsoever. I felt fine.
In March of 2008, I saw some blood after using the bathroom. I immediately went to my family practice doctor, who ran blood tests and found that my liver enzymes were high. She referred me to a gastroenterologist for a colonoscopy.
I was certain that this would prove to be nothing but a hemorrhoid. I assumed that my high liver enzymes were the result of taking too many ibuprofens for garden-variety aches and pains. This lack of concern seemed to be shared by the gastroenterologist, who did not schedule the colonoscopy for another 6 weeks, though he did have me schedule a sonogram.
A Difficult Diagnosis
The sonogram showed lesions on my liver. To get a better idea of what they were, the gastroenterologist had me schedule a CT scan.
Later in the day after the CT scan, the gastroenterologist called. I remember seeing his office number on the caller ID, and thinking that the results couldn’t be good if they were calling with them this soon. The call confirmed my thoughts: not only did I appear to have a mass in my colon, there were a number of tumors scattered across my liver, involving both the right and left lobes.
The gastroenterologist scheduled me for an “emergency” colonoscopy the next day, which meant I had to drink the “prep” solution at a much faster rate than I would have otherwise. The sudden rush for these tests only served to stress me out further, if that was possible. The news was nothing short of earthshaking.
After the colonoscopy, with me still a little groggy from the sedation, I felt pretty calm as the doctor explained to my husband and me that I had what is called a “flat” tumor, with the tumor in the wall of the colon. It was approximately 5 centimeters in size, and I remember wondering how large 5 centimeters is (about 2 inches). He also said that it had to have been there for years.
I was devastated to learn that I could have such a serious and possibly life-threatening illness and still feel healthy. However, this is the danger with this type of colon cancer (and several other types of cancer). Flat cancers are not easy to find, even during colonoscopy, because they don’t protrude.
The biopsy results actually raised my hopes: the diagnosis was “high-grade dysplasia, carcinoma in situ.” According to what I’ve read, that usually means a precancerous condition that has not spread and will not spread unless it becomes cancer. The gastroenterologist, however, emphasized that this diagnosis did not mean a benign condition. His office scheduled an appointment with an oncologist for me for the next day.
First Steps of Treatment
We found the oncologist to be knowledgeable, caring, and very calming. He was honest and straightforward but still managed to discuss the test results, treatments, and a general prognosis for this particular form of colon cancer without upsetting me further. He did not talk in terms of cancer stage. Although staging can be useful information, I was and am still grateful he didn’t discuss it at that first meeting. He was extremely patient and answered all of my husband’s and my questions.
We were told that the first step would be chemotherapy to hopefully prevent the liver tumors from enlarging or spreading further. We were also told we would discuss options such as surgery or other methods to remove the liver tumors and the colon tumor, in detail, later, because the options that were right for me would depend on the effectiveness of the chemotherapy. He explained that the chemotherapy should also shrink the colon tumor.
We also discussed the possibility of a clinical trial. At that time, I felt I was too dazed to weigh the pros and cons and so chose not to participate in a clinical trial. I also felt more secure with the idea of a standard treatment.
I still found the biopsy report puzzling, however. My oncologist was very supportive of my need to know for sure if the tumors were cancerous. He sent me for a PET scan, which he felt would be more conclusive in this situation. During the PET scan, spots on my liver and the area of my colon where the tumor was found “lit up.” The doctor explained that this meant the tumors were most probably cancerous.
I appreciated that my oncologist carefully explained the treatment to me. I would receive a course of chemotherapy every other week for approximately six months. I would be given a chemotherapy pump, which looks a lot like an old walkman and is usually worn around the waist like a fanny pack. This would allow me to spend less time at the infusion center where I went for treatment—I could go home with the pump for two nights and have it disconnected on the third day.
I was then scheduled to have what’s called a port inserted in my upper chest. This is basically an access point that allows you to get chemotherapy without having your veins punctured over and over. The doctor explained the possible side effects of the chemotherapy, and I was scheduled to start chemo right after the port was inserted.
Although I was facing an extremely difficult and uncertain road ahead, I felt confident that my oncologist would provide the best possible care. I felt that the main ingredient for having a chance at the best possible outcome was already in place, and that was worth its weight in gold.
*Lorraine Cagliostro is an entrepreneur and freelance writer living in the central New Jersey area.