Content Warning: This article discusses cancer diagnosis, treatment, and
recovery. It contains references to medical procedures, mortality, and
mental health challenges. While the tone is generally positive and includes
humor, some readers may find specific topics sensitive or distressing.
It’s hard to believe that I only had a 50% chance of living six months ago.
My survival rate was broken down to a coin flip. 1.7 million cancer cases
were reported in the United States last year and I was one of those
numbers. OHSU doctors diagnosed me with a soft tissue liposarcoma that
was so rare, that it only made up 1% of all cancer types. Sarcoma is a
cancer that can develop at any age, anywhere in the body. Soft tissue
sarcoma shows up in fat, muscle, tendons, blood vessels and cartilage,
and most commonly occur in the extremities. Approximately only 17,000
people in the United States will be diagnosed with a sarcoma this year and
half will not survive the battle. I had become a statistic in some medical
journal. One question people ask is, “How did I realize that I had this rare
cancer?” I felt it every time I sat down. The stage 3 tumor was growing in
my left gluteus maximus. Again, something few doctors had ever seen
before, so I guess I’m like Bigfoot.
Dealing With It. I had many Nancy Kerrigan moments of wondering ‘why
me’ and battled mental health issues for months. It was like a rollercoaster of emotions, and I was starting to plan my own funeral.
Bagpipes and all. I was totally prepared to eat a bag of popcorn seeds to
make the cremation process interesting. As you can see, I use humor to
get me through the rough times. I spent many hours working on a stand-up
routine, thinking of jokes about my situation and trying to make people
laugh. Everyone deals with adversity differently and it’s just how I dealt
with things. Funny thing about humor, it sometimes makes you laugh until
you cry, which what I was trying to avoid.
At first, we didn’t know what to call it. My wife wanted to call it booty
cancer, but I didn’t want to get confused with guys who had prostate or
colon cancer. Plus, booty cancer just sounded too nice. I decided to call
the sarcoma, Brad. I’ve never met anyone named Brad that has been a
positive influence in my life, and they’ve always been a pain in the rear.
So, I thought it was appropriate to call my tumor, Brad. I got the OHSU
nurses to say, “Take that Brad!” when giving me chemotherapy or
radiation and I think I saw a “Down with Brad” sign in their breakroom.
Brad got big. The mass grew fast, and it grew large. It started at 5x3x2cm
in October of 2023 and got to 20x19x17cm, the size of a nerf football by
February 2024. My butt was so big, I was walking my dog and some kid
asked me if I was related to Kim Kardashian. My backside was so large,
whenever I took a shower, my wife would sing ‘Baby Got Back.’ I couldn’t
fit into my skinny jeans anymore and I’m probably the only person you’ll
ever know who had real ‘junk in their trunk.’
How could I benefit from having cancer. I tried to turn lemons into lemon
aide by thinking of the positive things happening to me. It was part of my
coping and mental health. The obvious benefit was saving money on
shampoo, and I now have a 50% less chance of butt dialing someone. I
had a huge slice when golfing, but since I lost some mobility, I can’t swing
my hips as much and now I hit the ball straight! Who knew cancer would
improve my golf game? I called Ticketmaster for Duck football tickets and
asked for a discount. When they asked me why, I told them because I’m
only going to be using half of the seat. I didn’t get the discount. I also lost
30 pounds. It’s not the weight loss plan I would advise, but I can fit into my
skinny jeans again.
What did I learn? Don’t give up. Never give up. We’re all going through
something. Some of you have been through worse, but this will pass.
There are dreams yet to be realized. What I learned is that it may require
you to reach out for help. Yes, I said it. It is not the ugly word you make it
out to be. It does not mean you’re weak. Help is an act of love. You are so
willing to give it but struggle to receive it. We need each other. Now more
than ever. Dare to be vulnerable, and if you are struggling, think of with
whom you feel safe, and just let them know. It’s support and we all need it
sometimes.
The treatment plan worked! I survived 20 sessions of 2 different types of
chemotherapy, 8 straight sessions of radiation and a surgery that lasted 4
hours to remove the football sized sarcoma. I wondered if I would run
again. I wondered if I would walk again. I wondered what to tell people
when wearing my speedo on vacation. I decided I would just tell people
that I was attacked by a shark. Ironically, that’s what the surgeon called
the incision scar, her ‘SharkBite.’ It annoyed me because she knew darn
well that I couldn’t turn the other cheek.
My healing didn’t come from a surgeon. My healing came from a
community of others. I had a remarkable support group of doctors, family,
and friends (yourself included) who gave me encouragement and guidance
and I am forever grateful. I would eventually slay the sarcoma dragon with
my support team. The Northwest Sarcoma Foundation calls anyone who
survives this battle, a ‘dragon slayer’, so look for my cameo on next week’s
episode of The House of Dragons.
What Can I do? I have volunteered to be a part of a new OHSU study
dealing with mental health. The purpose of the study is to learn about the
most effective surveillance plans following a soft tissue sarcoma surgery.
After surgery, patients remain at risk of disease recurrence or metastasis
for the next 5 years. Metastasis is the spread of cancer cells from the
original tumor site to another part of the body. We are hoping the study
will find out if the frequency of follow-up visits and type of monitoring
scans affects the length of survival rates and improves mental health
while dealing with the possibility of reoccurrence.
Some surgeons believe that scheduling frequent follow-up appointments
(every 3 months) after surgery is best for the early detection of metastasis
and may prolong survival. Other surgeons believe that less frequent
follow-up appointments (every 6 months) are just as effective while
reducing the costs to healthcare systems and patients, as well as reducing
patient anxiety.
Some surgeons also believe that a more intensive imaging type (CT scans)
is best for the early detection of metastasis. However, other surgeons
believe that less intensive imaging type (X-rays) is just as effective and
limits additional exposure to radiation.
As many as 800 people from 24 hospitals and universities will take part in
this study internationally for the next 2 years. It’s my way of giving back to
the medical community. It’s important to be on the lookout for sarcoma
and act fast to get a reliable diagnosis. When you have a lump of any size,
anywhere, get it checked out by a health care professional, even if it is not
causing you pain. If you have a lump that is larger than a golf ball, you
should request an MRI. Statistically, it is most likely benign, but when it is
the size of a golf ball, think sarcoma.
What’s in the Future. One of my favorite movies is The Shawshank
Redemption. There’s a line in the movie, that you either get busy living or
you get busy dying. I choose to live. Cancer took away some of my physical
abilities, but it couldn’t touch my mind or my heart. The strength within
myself was always greater than the task at hand. Most people don’t get a
second chance in life. I want to travel more and have more experiences.
And if you are wondering, I got my hair back and its growing in thicker than
ever before. I have plans for an open mic stand-up in Salem next month
and I also got my appetite back, so once again, I can’t fit into my skinny
jeans.
Thom Price
Comments