Testicular Cancer

Today, November 19, is National Adoption Day.

To celebrate all of the different points of view about adoption that we here at The Band know you have, we're running an adoption carnival.

What better way for us to learn more about YOUR experiences?

Were you adopted? Did you adopt? Are you an adult adoptee? Are you a first mother? Did you have a great experience? A miserable one?

We won't know until you tell us!

So, The Band, it's time to Band Back Together for adoption!

I have written a few times on this blog about my cancer. I had testicular cancer. Now I do not produce sperm. There is no clear reason why I am not able to have children of my own, but that's not the point. My wife and I want to adopt. We cannot wait for the day we're told that we are the mother and father of a beautiful baby. I can't wait.

However, with adoption comes many things to think about:

My wife and I are happy to adopting a child of any nationality. However, I worry - it keeps me up at night. Would my family accept this child as their own? Would they treat a child of color differently?

I want to be the best parent possible, but can I do that if I am not of the same race or color as my child? I know my wife and I will love our child just as we'd love a child we'd birthed, but how will the world accept our child? Will my child be treated as an outsider? Would other children of the same race and/or color treat my child differently because they're adopted and not of the same race or color of their adoptive parents?

I like to think that our culture will accept and welcome a child whether they're adopted or not. But, I worry. I want the best for my child, I want to them to succeed, and I will do everything to help them. I guess I really want the rest of the world to help out, too. I'd like to see the whole "it takes a village" mentality.

I am going to love my children no matter what. I will be here for them through thick and thin. I just worry about the rest of the world - will they be there for our child, too?

I’ve been working on what to say in this entry. I was asked by Aunt Becky to write a follow up to my original article about nut cancer. I thought about what to write and couldn’t come up with anything. No one wants to hear the same old story: I get scanned, get nervous and then find out everything is okay. That to me is just repetitive. But, I finally found something to write about: sperm.

No this is going to be some XXX entry that is laced with Peter North references or anything of that nature. It’s going to be serious. And I don’t want to see or hear (or read) about how you all laughed.

SPERM IS SOME SERIOUS SHIT!

Okay, you can laugh. Say it with me…sperm. There, got it out of your system? (THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!) What I am going to talk about today is my journey with nut cancer and everything that follows.

With all types of cancers there are follow-up scans and tests and all that lame-ass stuff that we have to go through when we are given this disease. However, when you have a nut removed due to that little bitch of a disease there are some interesting steps that you have to go through.

My wife and I just celebrated our second anniversary. We are a young couple that dreams of having a family, house and a dog. We even have a name for our future hypothetical dog: Carl Weathers. Yes, the actor from “PREDATOR”. But, when we found out that I had cancer, things were put on hold. The house, the family and even the dog Carl Weathers was put on hold.

Flash Forward to January 17, 2011

My next scan, blood tests and all that jazz is coming up in about two months. But, this one is going to be a bit different. It’s going to be something different and well…unique. I am going to be testing my sperm.

We want to have kids but my oncologist told us to not attempt to have kids for at least 6-9 months after I finish my chemotherapy. Not because I wouldn’t be able to “perform” or anything of that nature. It was due to the fact that the chemo probably warped all my boys that were in me.

So my next visit is going to be a bit awkward. I am getting my blood drawn, having my southern hemisphere touched by a man in his 50’s with purple latex gloves on and I am going to be giving a “sample”. Now when I say sample I am not going to be peeing in a cup. OH NO, I am going to have to give a semen sample.

Here is where I am still worried. I am going to have to talk to some person, mostly likely a lady, about how I am going to have to go into a room and perform. Now, I was 16 once and it was easy back then but now!? REALLY?! I mean, is this person going to say that they don’t have any magazines or videos and that I should go into the room and just try!? COME ON! Am I supposed to take my iPhone into said room with me and get on their WiFi and start surfing porn to help me out?

It’s just gonna be so weird that I am terrified to even go. Hell, I might have to live tweet the event so you all can get a good laugh. I think the best thing about using their WiFi is going to be thinking about their IT guy going through the usage for the month and seeing a SHIT ton of data being downloaded from porn sites. That makes me smile.

But in all seriousness, this is going to be an important visit to the oncologist. I am going to find out that my “single jingle” is doing his job down there and still making some good swimmers. I am excited to find out that info that someday my wife and I can have kids and not have to worry about them coming out with a flipper or something else.

I know I joke about this but that is my way of dealing with it. It’s not something I think about everyday anymore and that’s a damn good thing. But I get my 3 month reminder of what my wife and went through. But, the nice thing is we are on our way to recovery. It’s been a year and we are making our way back to where we were before. We are looking for houses (we have an offer on one right now) and trying to decide what breed of dog to get and christen with the name Carl Weathers. Who couldn’t be happy about that?

I'm on an airplane, heading home from my recent vacation with my wife and most of her side of the family and writing this entry on the notepad on my iPhone. That is the dedication I have for BAND BACK TOGETHER!

How did this entry come to happen? Well, I blame Aunt Becky. Why didn't I have a link for Aunt Becky?!  Umm, if you are reading this chances are that you know her.  If not, well...I got nothing.  I follow that crazy (crazy AWESOME) lady on Twitter and love reading her blogs. Mostly cause she says fuck a lot and you don't hear women talk that way. Come to think of it, she might be a dude. Eh, I would still follow her...or him.

She tweeted how she wanted to make a shirt that said "CANCER IS BULLSHIT" and I told her I would help with the design. This led to a stream of DM's of why I wanted to help and what it meant to me. So I thought, what else is there to do on an airplane ride? Well, besides watching "Breaking Bad," that is. Here it goes. This entry is going to be a bit different from how I normally write so please don't judge! This is serious, we're talking about my nuts here!

I was a month away from turning 31 and 2 weeks away from my first anniversary with my wife. It was Halloween and we were at a party at our friend Nick and Lauren's house. I had probably 4 beers and we were home in bed by midnight. Everything was fine. That was Halloween.

November 1st was a different story.

I woke feeling like crap. Well, I actually felt like I had to take a big crap. Gross, but that's the closest thing I can equate it too. As the day went on, I started to feel worse. I decided to take a shower because for some reason that always helps me feel better. I like to sit down in the shower, that's just how I roll. Well, when I did that I felt a sharp pain...in my nuts. Actually it was just my left nut if we want to get technical about this.  I decided to give myself a self-examination. Right nut, smooth and pliable just the way it should be. It seemed to be normal size, from what I remembered.  Okay, left nut...fuck. The thing was 4 times the size of the other and hurt like hell to even squeeze ever so slightly. I called my wife to look at them. She saw them and how there was a noticeable size difference and we were off to the hospital.

After waiting for 2 hours in terrible pain due to all the assholes that ran to the ER, convinced they had H1N1, I finally got see the doctor. He poked, prodded and jostled my testes. Then, he ordered an ultrasound.

You know what's awkward? Having your nuts scanned by a female nurse while your wife is in the room. Yup, not cool. When I returned to my room in the ER, I was met by my doctor who had already scheduled me an 8 AM appointment with another doctor who would be talking about the surgery and my cancer.

Wait…WHAT THE FUCK!?

Yeah, it was laid that smoothly on me. My wife and I walked to the car (it was 10 o'clock by now) and I made a phone call to my mom. I told her I was okay, but that I there was something that I needed to talk to her about but I needed to go home and sleep and that I would talk to her when I knew more. She cried a bit, but respected my space.

Next day, we met with my Urologist. He had red hair and was kinda weird. That's all that I can tell you about him. He is just kinda weird. Whatever, he showed me my scans and told me my options. I knew surgery was necessary so we were all for that.

They would be removing my cancerous left nut the next morning at 8AM. My tumor was directly in the middle which was good because the doctor feels like that stopped any spreading of any kind. He was very sure of this.

However, I was still going to go through Chemo or Radiation therapy.

I had my nut removed and then had two weeks off. It was nice to have the time off but the recovery sucked. They had to give me a hernia, take the nut out and then seal me back up. I couldn't lift, sit up or get out of bed for about two weeks without being in pain or uncomfortable.

I was lucky that I didn't have to go through massive sessions of chemotherapy. I chose chemo because one doctor said for the type of cancer I had and where it was that it was the best treatment and he stood by that. Also, I chose it because I thought the radiation oncologist was kind of a douche.

Chemo wasn't so bad. Yeah, I did have to sit in a chair and people gave me the look of death when I walked in for treatment. Old people seem to think that no one young should have cancer and when they saw me they thought the worst, so they would give me this look. I hated that part of being in the clinic.

I finished my treatments and now I do blood tests every three months and scans and blood every 6 months for 3 years.

What I hate most about the scans is that every time I have one done, for about a week I am on pins and needles waiting to hear the news. That time is the worst.

It happened during this economic struggle that everyone was going through. We were hit hard and our savings was completely destroyed. We are a young couple that is trying to save for a house and get started, but life decided that we would have to grow up really quickly. You can always earn more money, right?

We want to have kids and now it seems my number of fellas down there has been cut in half. We were taken from being this happy couple that is young and didn't have a care in the world, to a couple that is now having to think about freezing sperm just in case! My wife was my rock during this whole thing. She was there by my side and never left it. I even had a medal made for her that says "Best Wife Ever" so that title is now officially taken and no one else can have it. My wife has that shit LOCKED DOWN!

Cancer is BULLSHIT! I definitely agree with that.

However, I have learned a few things since it happened. I now know that I am not invincible and that things can happen. I knew that when I broke an arm or something but that's different. When you are told you have something life-threatening, it really makes you stop and look at life. I may be a "single jingle" (I want a shirt that says that) down there now but I am still alive and that's what matters.

There are times that I lose it and cry. Shit, it happens to us all. I could be fine one day and think about it and how if I hadn't caught it I could have died and how I would leave my wife all alone and it makes me sad. But, I am still here. I am alive and kicking and not going to let my cancer run my life.

Cancer IS BULLSHIT!