Let’s talk about my cancer

Somewhat off topic, but so many of you have contacted me to ask how I’m doing that I thought it’d be a good idea to reply here. Without getting into the gory details, I can say that I’m okay, all things considered.

Anyone who’s gone through cancer knows that the situation changes day by day. You learn to live with uncertainty. It requires patience. The doctors are loath to speculate; all they do is tell you the current facts. They don’t prognosticate or offer odds or say what might happen. This forces us patients to go to the Internet for information, which the doctors hate, but, given their reticence, it’s our only option.

I have bladder cancer. Fortunately, it hasn’t metastasized, meaning it’s still only in the bladder. The goal now is to keep it there, if not to actually eliminate it. It’s somewhat treatable, but bladder cancer is notorious for metastasizing and for recurring; the eventual death rate is fairly high. I’ve gone through immunotherapy (a waste of time, in my case), and had two surgeries, called trans urethral resection of bladder tumour (TURBT), in which the surgeon “scrapes” the visible tumors out. (Fortunately, I was fully anesthetized!) The problem is that they can only scrape what they can see. They can’t scrape out cancer cells hidden deep within the bladder tissue. So I’ll likely have to undergo a third TURBT, which is a hassle, believe me. The doctors may eventually decide on chemotherapy or, in the worst case, removal of the entire bladder. That’s a whole other conversation.

One can’t not think about the end of life. This doesn’t necessarily alarm me. I think about all the things I won’t miss were I to die (and it’s a long list). I’ve philosophically contemplated death for most of my adult life (the unexamined life isn’t for me). I’ve pretty much lived the average lifespan of a White American male, so in a sense I’m on borrowed time. And in the long dream of the universe, we’re all just phantasms. Who am I to complain?

It’s not that I want to die. But I don’t want to live with pain, with indignity, with the next surgery always looming. And I don’t want to burden anyone with having to care for me. But this is all just speculation right now. Death isn’t imminent. One day at a time.

Thanks to all who reached out to me. You don’t know how much it means. Most of you don’t even know me, except through this blog. It’s curious that we can form such personal relationships of affection through the Internet, but we can.

Meanwhile I’ll continue to write this blog as long as I’m able. Please have a safe, enjoyable weekend.

Thank you.

Steve Heimoff