Testicular Cancer Discovery 1988
I was 16 years old when I realized that one of my testicles had become enlarged. Being sexually active I assumed that maybe it was an STD and kept quiet about it. I let a few weeks go by before I confided in my older brother. Dropping your draws to show your brother your testicles is not something many people do willingly and I was quite embarrassed by it. Little did I know at that time that showing off my "package" would become a daily event. My brother had no idea what he was looking at but he knew having one testicle twice the size of the other could not be good. He said if I didn't tell my grandmother (I was living with my grandmother at this time) he would. So the next day I told my grandmother that I needed to see a doctor because something was wrong "down there". I went to my family doctor who after seeing me referred me to a doctor at Long Island Jewish Medical Center in NY. At this time I began to worry that what I had was something of importance. When I met with the doctors at LIJ they began a number of tests. Blood test and ultrasound were among the tests done that day. I left the hospital with little understanding of what was going on and how severe my situation was. Upon my arrival at home the phone rang and it was a doctor from LIJ. It couldn't have been more then 40 minutes since I had left the hospital. The doctor told me to gather a few things, change of cloths, etc. and return to the hospital I would have surgery early the next morning. To make matters worse they would be removing one of my testicles. Well I'm not sure if I have the words to express the emotions that came over me. I remember being scared to death, not that I was going to die or anything but scared of the uncertainty that lie ahead. I was 16 years old; I had no idea what all of this really meant. The word surgery was scary in itself. I'll never forget hanging up the phone and talking to my grandmother about what the doctor said. My little brother who heard the whole conversation asked me if I was scared. Well that is when I lost it. I was scared and was unable to contain my feelings any longer. I bust into tears and ran to my room where I cried for a short while. I later did as the doctor said and gathered a few things and returned to hospital.
It’s funny how life's events shape a person. Over the course of the next 2 years I had surgery 7 times, chemotherapy, high dose chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant and a bunch of other procedures. During this time I learned how to separate my thoughts, how to turn my mind off so I could sleep and to keep my outward appearance as such that the people around me would not know the pain I was feeling. When family would visit I would always reassure them that I was doing great and felt no pain even when I was dying inside. I just couldn't stand to see anyone get upset when they would see me. This reluctance to show emotion is still with me to this day. Only recently have I been able to cry. For at least a period of 15 years I would not shed a tear. This clearly was a result of always feeling that I needed to be strong for the ones around me.
I’m not sure what kept me going through those years. I guess being 16 when I was first diagnosed helped. I thought I was invincible and never once thought that dying was an option. It simply never occurred to me that it was possible to die. As they say ignorance is bless. I remember after I relapsed my doctor came to me to discuss my options. She told me going forward there was a 50/50 chance of me making it. Again I never gave the negative 50% any thought. It wasn’t until a friend of mine died that I realized it was possible. That is a moment I will never forget.
I was 17 when I left the bone morrow transplant room and continued my recovery. 18 years have gone by and I have no regrets or anger, never did. For me many things were lost and many things gained from my experience. I lost any chance of becoming a Marine when I was diagnosed, my childhood dream. On the other hand I would have never met my wife and had our beautiful daughter if I didn’t drop out my senior year and return the following year after my treatments. If all things happen for a reason I would like to think she was the reason. Three years of cancer and treatments for a lifetime of happiness.
