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Big C a sequel

December 11, 2011

“Let’s look at the CT scan.” said Dr. Jessie Norton, a surgeon at the Stanford Cancer Center.

We enter a room where some women are working, they look up at me with a mixture of curiosity and sadness that seemed to harden into distant shell of pleasantness and support. They’re wondering how I will react. I can tell they’re impressed at my focus, that I’m not whimpering but I look shaken and determined.

He points to the screen and says, “There’s the tumor. There’s were you bladder is. And the liver.”

The gray and swirling throbbing image looks like one of those radar images of an approaching storm. Only this storm is within my body and I am caught up in it, swirling helplessly and flailing at the unknown forces. But it isn;t carrying me, I’m carrying it. And I have to dive into it to fight against its swirling.

The doctor explains the tumor isn;t like a water ballon. It adheres to cetrain organs it touches and those organs section have to be cut, sniped out, and the organ re sectioned–maybe my bladder, for sure my colon. Then images of catheters, possible infections, and drains attached to my body. All the things I saw in my father’s unhealed gashes from infections that killed him and left his stomach with unhealed wounds that looked like a grizzly bear skated with razor blades on his stomach and left him for dead.

Where was I going to go? Five to seven days in a hospital. Would I get infections? Would I make this?

And there ahead, after emerging from this lies debt, but also a new surfboard I haven’t ridden yet. And a 50 percent cure rate, which means later in my life they might have to open me up again.

And where dicd this tumor come from? It’s muscular, and is the result of radiation treatment I had from my cancer many years ago.

Who will I be when I get out, if I do. But I’ve life a life of no regret, lived and pursued the dreams of my potential (Comedy, writing, surfing, radio). So some didn’t pay out. But they’re my resource and I tapped them. So many sell their resources and never tap their soul’s water table and don’t bear the fruit of dreams, instead they have the sturdy oak of financial security, where they find their bad golf shot lying and having to take a drop and a penalty. Maybe that’s why, with my friends’ support and love, when I walk into the clinic, I am not alone but powered my the propulsive drive of my own million man march to take over the world.

Sometime this week, I will be walking down those corridors lined with darkness and rimmed with light.Yeah, I’m in for a world of pain. I’m on a train track that is going down hill and into the entrance of a haunted house filled with scalpels, blood, and needles. Somewhere there are sprays of daylight and I will reach and cling to them like rungs of a ladder and try to climb out.

I hope I come out funnier!

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One Comment leave one →
  1. December 11, 2011 7:21 pm

    Fred… I pressed the ‘like’ button – as a show of appreciation. I’m new to your blog – but not to witnessing the challenges that you’re facing. I wish you all the best mate…

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