In America, every day, over 6,000 people hear the three words that most of us fear, “You have cancer.” Each year in America, over two million people die from this prolific disease.
When people first hear this frightening diagnosis, they often travel through the five stages that a person feels when they learn that they are dying: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
Thanks to medical research, many types of cancer, if caught early, can be cured. That is why regular testing and self-examination are so crucial.
The man I am writing about was diagnosed too late for treatment that could have cured his cancer. This is the beginning of his journey.
He is 61 years old and has lived, until now, an incredibly healthy life. After the usual childhood illnesses, he has traveled through the decades with good health. He never smoked or took drugs, drank socially, ate well and had a physically demanding job for most of his life. Retirement dangled before him, and he felt a long road ahead.
Then the floor dropped out beneath his feet.
This man is my son, my firstborn, Brett MacMillan. In his desire to help others and hopefully to save lives, he has generously agreed to share his ongoing story.
When Brett was still in elementary school, our country celebrated the Bicentennial. His school was very involved in the celebration, and his teacher was talking about how much had happened since our country’s birth, and how long it would be before our country would celebrate the next two hundred years.
Leaving his classroom, Brett stopped to talk to his teacher. He told her that he would be alive then. She questioned him, saying that it would be two hundred years from now. Brett just smiled, content in his innocence of youth, that it would be no problem.
Time then did not have the power that it does as we grow up and come to realize how fleeting time actually is. Brett felt that he had all the time in the world.
When Brett turned the big sixty, he thought he still had at least two more decades ahead. No worries.
Brett was not one to go to a doctor. He had kidney stones a few years ago, and that had been a rough time that eventually required surgery. He did suffer from back pain, but he did a physically demanding job, so that seemed natural.
Plus, he thought, “I am sixty, so I should expect some aches and pains. This is normal.” When he started having a few ‘male’ issues, he thought the same. No big deal.
It was his wife of thirty years, Kris, who noticed some little moles on his arm. She insisted that he go in to have those checked. Begrudgingly, he went in. As he had thought, they were nothing.
But when the doctor noticed on his chart how long it had been since any blood work, she ordered a complete panel, he first call.
Most of his blood work was A-OK, except his Prostate-Specific Antigen (PSA) numbers were extremely high. So, just to make sure it was not a fluke, another test was scheduled for a week later.
The next call. This time his PSA numbers were even higher. Brett asked, “Well, what is the number when you get concerned?” He was told to begin watching over 11. Brett’s was 187. They told him that it was very high and wanted to wait one more week and then do another test. He waited and came in for the next test. This time his numbers were even higher, over 200. They were concerned and scheduled a biopsy in a week.
Brett shared his experience with the biopsy of his prostate, which is done without anesthesia: “The good thing about the procedure is that it only takes ten minutes. The bad thing about the procedure is that it took ten minutes!” Brett said it was truly painful.
Then he waited for the results of the biopsy. A Positron Emission Tomography (PET) scan was scheduled in case it was determined that it was cancer and what stage it was.
Much of dealing with cancer is a waiting game. Waiting for tests and diagnosis. Waiting to see if treatment is effective. Waiting to see when the side effects of the treatment will subside.
The call came in, determining that it was stage four cancer.
There are four stages, one through four. The earlier the cancer is caught, the better the chance of winning the battle. Four is the worst level. Brett’s PET scan lit up, showing that the cancer had spread, meaning it had metastasized. It had spread to his lymph nodes and bones, thus the pain in his back.
The first meeting with his oncologist was a sharp taste of reality for Brett and Kris. The first thing his doctor asked was, “Do you know why you are here?” They learned about Gleason scores, which show the aggressiveness of the cancer. Brett is at a nine. The highest score was ten.
It was explained that Brett had a very aggressive type of cancer. Kris asked, “Is it curable?” The doctor matter-of-factly answered, “No, but we can treat it. Brett, are you a fighter?”
Brett, feeling as if he had been kicked in the stomach, replied, “Yes.”
His doctor responded, “Good, because I am going to be very aggressive with the chemo and treatment. With luck I can give you maybe three to five years.” This could be dependent on where the cancer spreads as it grows, some organs can be more critical.
Brett remembers being shocked that his doctor thought she had just given him a gift. While it appeared that the doctor felt she was giving him hope that he might live that long. To Brett and Kris, they were thinking, “Only three years?”
Perspective is everything. The time for the best possible outcome seemed horribly short. Life forever changed at that moment. Calls were made. Family was devastated. This mother felt like she had been run over by a Mack truck.
The journey has begun.
To be continued.
