There's a Zebra in My Chest

As many of you already know, it appears that I have cancer. I’ve decided to enter the Realm of the Blog to document my journey and provide updates to family and friends. At the very least, I intend to post the latest status/medical updates. If I really catch on to the blogging vibe, I may post much more.

I am feeling a bit wordy at the moment, but I’ll try to start with the Cliff’s Notes version for those people who don’t want to read an entire dissertation...

About 6 months ago, I started to complain about itching – generalized itching all over my body. No rash, no swelling, no hives. Just itching – head to toe, back, legs, feet, arms, chest, face, etc., etc. I finally broke down and went to a doctor (something I hadn’t done in probably 10 years). He immediately referred me to an allergist, assuming the itching was allergy related. I suspected early on that the source of my itching was more serious than mere grass pollen, but I played along knowing that jumping through hoops is easier than fighting with the doctors. Apparently, a common teaching analogy in medical school involves a horse and zebra. The logic goes like this: If you’re out in the mid-western United States (e.g., Nebraska) and you hear hoof beats off in the distance, it makes the most sense to assume that the hoof beats are coming from a horse. Only after you have determined that it’s definitely not a horse should you entertain the possibility that it’s a zebra. Really, the logic is sound. So, I spent a couple of months letting the doctor chase horses. Then, at the beginning of last week, I finally had a CT scan of my chest that revealed a 9cm x 4.5cm zebra in my chest cavity. So much for horses.

Pretty much any doctor will agree that generalized itching plus night sweats (another symptom of mine) plus a large tumor in your chest add up to cancer. More particularly, these symptoms/findings suggest lymphoma. Even more particularly, they suggest Hodgkin’s lymphoma (as opposed to non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma). But the only way to know for sure is to do a biopsy. Needle biopsies are an option, but not preferred for possible lymphomas. So, they scheduled me for day surgery yesterday. The surgery (mediastinoscopy) involves a small (1 inch) incision just above my collarbone into which they insert the mediastinoscope. Using the mediastinoscope, the doctor cuts out a small chunk of the tumor which is analyzed by a pathologist to determine what it is.

Today I’m at home recuperating from the surgery. My neck and chest are uncomfortable and I’m tired and groggy, but I’m not really in too much pain. It turns out that the pathologist wasn’t able to diagnose the tumor on the spot as expected, but he did go as far as to say the sample was consistent with a lymphoma. And thus we wait. We should have preliminary results back tomorrow and a final diagnosis early next week. Until then, it’s not official, but it’s pretty safe to assume that I do have cancer.

How do I feel about having cancer? Honestly, I’m not that worried about it. Hodgkin’s is very treatable and I have every reason to believe that we’ll be able to treat it and move on. That’s not to say that the next few months are going to be a cakewalk, but I’m fully confident that I’ll be fine in the long run.

It almost seems trite and too impersonal to offer a blanket “thank you” in a blog post, but I want to say thank you nonetheless. Skye and I have been overwhelmed with the thoughts, prayers, gestures, and kind words so many of you have given to this point. They are inspiring and uplifting and very much appreciated. So, thanks again.