Like millions of other Americans, since my late 30s, I have dealt with a chronic medical condition, in my case, ulcerative colitis (UC).
Treatable and manageable, though without a cure, and that pre-existing medical condition made securing medical insurance a real joy, until the advent and passage of the Affordable Care Act.
Each year, since the late ‘90s, as part of that ongoing treatment, I had an annual colonoscopy. And during the days of no insurance, I participated in many clinical trials, two of which resulted in being part of a duo of blockbuster drugs now on the market, which treat this disease quite effectively.
As also often happens, everyday life can get in the way of getting medical appointments scheduled, and I missed the colonoscopy in 2024, then had difficulty securing an appointment until Jan. 10, 2025. The Snow Day that blanketed north Georgia cancelled that, so we reset for Jan. 24. Results were good, some polyps were biopsied, and life rolled on.
The day after my birthday, my longtime and very solid gastroenterologist called with news ... good and bad. The good was that my UC is in almost complete remission, the bad was that a small white oval, perhaps a pre-cancerous cyst in my sigmoid colon, came back as a very rare, very malignant, and rapidly spreading cancer: Adenocarcinoma with Signet Ring Cell features.
That latter sentence fragment is the part that screams: “Danger Will Robinson ... Danger!”
That pathology was confirmed, and a surgical appointment was set. This cancer moves quickly, and I was told to expect I likely already had it in multiple organs. Thankfully, a CAT scan dispelled that, with no metastatic tissue showing anywhere else in the body.
My surgeon also wanted to take a look herself, so a second colonoscopy, on Feb. 24, followed. That little white dot was now dark grey and black with tentacles, encircling the interior walls of my colon. It looked a bit like the creature in the first Alien movie.
I woke to my surgeon saying, “We can’t wait another month. You give that cancer another month, and we may be facing a battle you can’t win.”
So, surgery was moved up from April 7 to March 7, and I said goodbye to my colon and 46 lymph nodes. Thankfully again, only ONE lymph node was compromised by the cancer. Laparoscopic surgery meant quicker healing, too. And thanks to an INCREDIBLE surgeon and medical team, nurses, technicians, and staff at Northside Hospital and the Northside Cancer Center, I was up and walking the day after surgery.
By the end of a week, I was doing laps around our floor and clocking up to 5,000 steps on my FitBit (and sneaking in some stairs).
I cannot say enough in the way of gratitude for the outpouring of prayers, warm thoughts, cards, floral arrangements, meals, rides, and other assistance and support that flooded in from family, friends, clients, and co-workers. This experience has been humbling in many ways, but each kind word of encouragement and prayerful thought was felt and appreciated.
Later this week comes a chemotherapy infusion port, and then the week after, I begin 24 weeks of chemo pills and infusion therapy with a primary drug called FolFox6. Two weeks of pills, infusion, and a week off. And repeat.
My cancer has been staged as high risk, early Stage 3a. The risk factor is high versus low due to those sneaky Signet Ring Cells. But my attitude is good, and though I can’t forecast what lies ahead or how the chemo will affect me, I know I will beat this.
I want to thank so many of you in advance for helping me get here, and I already plan to be part of the many Cancer Survivor Walks across the Metro Atlanta area this fall.
We don’t get to choose the cards that life or God deals us; we can only choose how we respond to our hand. I genuinely believe I have been given this hand for a reason, and if nothing else, I can try to help others when they later tread this same path.
I thought when I heard the words, “You have the Big C...” that my reaction might be much more drastic. But at least for now, this seems manageable.
And as I always enjoy a challenge, or even hearing, “There’s no way that ...” I intend to win this battle. So, Signet Ring Cells, I’m comin’ for ya’. More to come as I travel this road ...
End of Chapter One.