On the morning of July 9, Alan went to his primary care doctor for what was supposed to be some routine medical care. That day ended with both of us sitting in the office of the urologist hearing the words that no one wants to hear, "You have Testicular cANCER." He was then scheduled to have surgery 6 days later to have the mass removed. We had drove separately to the appointment- neither one of us had started our work day thinking that it would end this way. I remember leaving the doctor's office, sitting in the parking lot to call my Mom and then my friend, Alaina. Both of them were in utter shock, just as I was. How was this happening? Why were we being given another battle when we weren't well into the 1st quarter of the other one we were fighting? Surgery on the 16th came and went. Alan did great and all went quite well. However, the results of the type of cancer came back and they weren't what we were hoping for. The cANCER was more rare and aggressive than originally thought. Masses had also been found on the lymph nodes above the cancer area. Additional treatment (radiation or chemo) or surgery would be required. We happened to have a follow up with the fertility doctor two days after Alan's surgery. He was such a good sport. I dragged him with me to that appointment less than 48 hours after being under the knife and worked on in the most uncomfortable of places. At this point we still didn't know the next course of treatment. With chemo still on the table, our RE highly encouraged us to freeze some swimmers. So, I think every other morning for the next two weeks or so, I would wake Alan up early and make him "make a deposit" on his way to work. Again, SUCH a good sport. Alan met with a team of oncologists here at KU and then through the connection of a great family friend got hooked up with a specialist in Chicago and then a surgeon Indianapolis. The Indianapolis Team was one Alan decided to go with, (Huge selling point that they were the ones to save Lance Armstrong's life as well!) So, the first week back at school for teachers, we were off to Indiana for Alan's surgery. They would remove the lymph nodes in a surgery similar to open heart resulting in a 14 inch incision down his stomach. He now has a lovely centipede scar from all 53 staples that the women at Lifetime love to see at the pool:) Amazingly, the surgery only lasted a little under two hours. The same surgery at KU was slated for 10-12 hours. That was Alan's and my first experience first hand on the importance of seeking out medical professionals who excel in their field. And better yet, the masses were not cANCER and Alan was cANCER free. BEST.NEWS.EVER. Four days later, we were back on a plane heading back to Kansas City.
Alan jokes though, and its true, that cANCER was the easy part of his journey. Recovery was the hardest. Alan ended up back in the hospital on two separate occasions. Both had to do with fluid collecting at the surgery site. The first time was only a few weeks after we returned from Indiana. He had extreme lower back pain so I took him to the ER one night. They found fluid had collected at the removal site. They were able to remove some of it through a procedure but not all of it. His three month CT scan in October showed that it had collected again, so I a permanent drain was put in this time for as long as needed.
The morning of November 1, I woke up to run some errands. Alan was feeling pretty miserable and had a fever. I didn't think anything of it at first though and went about my morning. However, when I was out and about, common sense finally kicked in. My husband has a plastic tube coming out of him and now he has a fever. Infection. I raced home and took him to the ER. Sure enough, he had a severe infection throughout his body. At this point they didn't know what it was. The next 24 hours that followed were the scariest of my life. Scarier than infertility diagnoses, scarier than surgeries, scarier than cANCER. He literally cried and moaned for 24 hours straight. Other than that, pretty much incoherent. When the infectious disease doctor came in to talk with me Sunday morning, they said it's a good thing you brought him in when you did or we would be having a very different conversation. However, at that point though, they were still very concerned. There were so many unknowns- and their biggest concern at the time was that the infection had spread to the brain. I made a phone call to my parents in Chicago, and thankfully, by 5:00 that evening, they were by my side. We finally got a diagnosis of a strep and staph infection in the blood. After a week in the hospital and celebrating our 4th (yet most likely most memorable) anniversary in the hospital, we were going home again.
It was hands down one of the hardest things I have ever had to do seeing my husband so sick. He's always been the stronger one of the two of us. Yet, there were nights when we would lie on the couch and both sob wondering if life would ever be "normal" again. It was during this time that the weight of the last year and a half really fell on my shoulders. Most days while driving pretty much anywhere, I would just sob in the car. I didn't know how much more I could take. I was broken. But, slowly, things did begin to turn around for Alan's health. He did get better and, by the end of 2014, things had returned to "normal" again.
I remember one morning waking up and thinking to myself that this cANCER thing was really over. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. In the most obvious ways, a blessing. My husband was finally on the track to being healthy again. We most certainly were not the same people we were before the experience. Life had more meaning. Family and friends had more meaning. Love had more meaning. But now, this awful thing that had been a dis-tractor for the past 5 months, something so much more urgent, permanent, and life threatening than infertility was gone. And so my mind became consumed...24 hours a day... with babies once again.
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