That’s the first thing I remember hearing my doctor say when I woke up after my colonoscopy. 

I had been trying to explain away my symptoms for a while. My main symptom was blood in my poop (there’s no such thing as TMI once you’re dealing with colorectal cancer, so get used to the poop and butt stuff talk). It wasn’t constant or even very frequent, and I always came up with some kind of explanation for it – food that didn’t agree with me, drinking too much, or whatever else I could think of to make it not a big deal. I also had diarrhea off and on, but again, I always talked myself into some explanation for why it was fine. 

Last year, however, it became clear that something was wrong because my symptoms were happening pretty much all the time. So I finally made the appointment with a gastroenterologist. I saw the doctor sometime in September, I explained what was going on, and we talked about a few things that could be causing my symptoms. IBS runs in my family so that was always what I suspected. I mentioned I was a runner and he even suggested that it could be runner’s colitis. He ordered some bloodwork, and a colonoscopy was scheduled for late October.

I really did not want to get a colonoscopy. I had to do similar prep once before, years ago, for some kind of upper GI thing and I did not have fond memories of it. And mainly I didn’t want anyone looking at my butt or sticking something up it while I was asleep.

But (haha) it really was not that bad. The prep is not fun; there’s really no way to sugar coat it. But in the scheme of things, it’s really not a big deal. Just plan to spend an evening in the bathroom. And get some diaper cream or Vaseline, it helps. 

The procedure itself is easy peasy. They get you prepped, wheel you into the room, have you turn on your side, then it’s off to dreamland. That propofol nap really is the best nap you’ll ever have.

The great thing about colonoscopies is that they can detect a precancerous polyp, remove it right there, and actually prevent cancer. I believe it is the only screening that actually prevents cancer. Don’t avoid it like I did! It could save your life.

So, I woke up from my nice nap, and the doctor told me we have a problem. I was still pretty foggy at this point, but I remember him saying they found a tumor, he was sure it was malignant, but that it looked like it was stage 1 and he thought they could remove it during an endoscopic ultrasound procedure and I could avoid any further treatment. Spoiler alert: He was wrong. I did have the endoscopic ultrasound a couple of weeks later, they did remove part of the tumor, but overall it was unsuccessful. Based on what I know now, this should never have even been attempted. I’m still upset that I was put through the procedure, but what can you do?

The Cancer Claw Machine

When I was told I had cancer, I immediately felt like I had been separated from the rest of the world. The image in my mind was of a claw machine. Like one of the aliens in Toy Story, I was suddenly picked up and dropped into a different world. I remember waking up the next morning and immediately thinking “I have cancer.” The words just played on repeat in my head. But it still didn’t seem like they fit. Maybe there was a mistake. I’m healthy. How can I have cancer? I still sometimes can’t believe it.

I left the colonoscopy in a haze, both from the medication and the diagnosis. What do you mean I have cancer? It didn’t seem real. I told my family and some close friends over the next few days, but generally I wasn’t ready to talk about it. At that point I knew so little, I didn’t even know what I would say if I did want to talk about it. But it was such an all-consuming thing to be dealing with, I felt like the rest of the world kept going but I came to a screeching halt the moment I was diagnosed. I was going through the motions of everyday life, because what else do you do, but my mind was spinning with all of the what-ifs and the things I needed to do.

The crazy thing to wrap my mind around is that I probably have had cancer for the past 10+ years. Colon cancer grows relatively slowly, so most likely I have been carting around my little tumor for a decade or more. 

I still don’t physically get out of the house very much, but slowly the mental isolation that I felt initially has softened. I have wonderful family and friends who have been very supportive throughout this whole ordeal. I’ve adapted somewhat to the never-ending medical appointments and procedures. Getting back into running has helped immensely. This is just life now.

Learn to Endure

I’m hoping to take the kids to Europe in the next couple of years, and I was researching Scotland because I would love to see some of the places where my ancestors lived. I went down a rabbit hole that brought me to a clan Duncan crest with the motto “Disce Pati,” which roughly translates to “Learn to Endure” or “Learn to Suffer.” Granted, this may not be the same clan Duncan from which I get my name (which is my mother’s surname), but I would like to think this is connected to my lineage somehow. I found this inspiring. I come from a family of fighters, and I can learn to endure this. 

A few months ago, I read Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. Frankl was an Austrian psychologist who survived the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp. He talks about humans’ capacity for suffering, and about the importance of having meaning in one’s life. For me right now, my “why” is my kids. I have to be there for them and see them grow up, so I am going to do everything in my power to not only fight this, but to make the most of every day I’m given.