The negative side of positive results.

There are two key lessons from the story of how I learned I had cancer. I would be remiss if I didn’t share them with you and I thought it would be important to frontload you with them before reading through this post. Take heed and respond appropriately:

1) Having a family doctor could save your life. If you don’t have one, make finding one a priority.

2) It’s never too early to get a finger in your butt. As long as you’re an adult. And it’s consensual.

Many of those who have reached out to me since being made privy to my life-changing news have been curious as to how I found out I had cancer. I suppose to set the stage for my journey, I should break down the events that revealed my affliction. As you would expect, the story begins with a plate of breaded calamari and popcorn shrimp…

… but first, we have to dig deep into the bowels of my health history. Literally. Since my teenage years, I have had an atrocious digestive system. I was originally diagnosed with lactose intolerance which later revealed an allergy to milk fat. During the diagnostic period, it was so bad that I became involuntarily bulimic for a short duration. I was terrified to eat as no matter what I put in my mouth at whatever time of day, its prompt expulsion was imminent. I was prescribed a terrible (although joyous at the time) diet of only starch, protein, and sugar. I was only allowed limited, well-cooked vegetables and high citrus fruits. My daily menu of potato chips, burgers, plain pasta, fast food, donuts, dry cereal, and 5 cent candies was a teenage dream come true. It was meant to expand my stomach without overexerting the enzymatic production in my GI tract. Eventually, I was able to reintroduce fruits and vegetables into my regular diet; however, my adverse reactions to food have stuck with me throughout my adult life. I have been through every single GI test available numerous times: Chron’s disease, ulcerative colitis, celiac disease, etc. Every test has come back negative. I was even cleared for irritable bowel syndrome which I just assumed was an obvious diagnosis. Apparently not. No medical diagnosis has ever been able to direct me towards a solution for my tummy turmoil. I really had no choice but to reevaluate my diet. So far, I have found the most success drinking way more water than my bladder appreciates and following a paleo platform that allows for small, intermittent portions of refined sugar, gluten, processed meats, and dairy. I am a firm believer in moderation and I have found myself in some crappy situations when I have cut out all of the ‘toxic’ aforementioned ingredients. Other than my GI tract issues and multiple musculoskeletal injuries, I have maintained a surprisingly healthy body throughout the years.

We recently moved to Kamloops, BC for my new job. I already had a fantastic family doctor (Dr. Van Zyl) in Vernon, BC but I knew I would eventually have to cut the drive time down since we were deciding to plant roots in the new city. One of my coworkers and quickly established bestie in Kamloops decided to break our hearts by moving back to Adelaide, Australia after only half a year of knowing us. Carla, being a

notorious ‘8’ on the enneagram decided that a shortage of family doctors was no

excuse to not have one in Kamloops. She let her family doctor know that she would be bequeathing her spot at her clinic to me. Honestly, I was a little concerned about the quality of a physician that would allow some teacher to tell her who her newest patients were going to be but as it turns out, Carla is a miracle worker. Once I get through all of this, I will need to have a statue made for Dr. Hollman or pay some sort of absurd homage to her for the type of care she has provided me.

Upon meeting Dr. Hollman as a new patient, she went through my entire health history. I had anticipated a bit of lab work and an overview of my injuries. I was not expecting a forty-five minute consultation taking me back to childbirth! She had expressed concerns about my existing GI issues and sent me for all of the same tests I have been through in the past. All came back negative again. In fact, she confirmed that my organs were all working as well as above average and my enzyme production was fantastic. Considering my admiration for scotch, beer, and wine, she seemed almost as impressed with me as I! So there I was, healthy as a whistle, family doctor in hand.

And the story begins. A plate of breaded calamari and popcorn shrimp hit our coffee table just in time for another episode of Brooklyn 99. It was meant to be a progressive dinner as we had a few different meats that needed to be cooked before they went

bad. Cambria and I dug right in to the deep-fried treats that we had been saving for a special occasion. The occasion? Cariann was cooking for us. She had hand-turned a signature lemon-dill yogurt dip for the seafood and we all began to devour. It wasn’t long before we were already full and decided we would pack the rest of dinner up for lunch the next day. The ladies ended up having a bit of a snack later but I was pinned from the inside to the couch. A couple of hours later, I started getting a bit warm. I mindlessly wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. I didn’t come to realize where I was until Cambria brought it to my attention. “Dad! What are you DOING out there? You’re wearing shorts!” which I suppose can be a faux pas in the beginning of January after a fresh snowfall. I let her know I wasn’t feeling so hot and I went to the bathroom.

It may be important to clarify that despite my history of GI issues, nausea is something I experience quite seldom. Furthermore, the very rare occasions I vomit typically consist of me puking a little bit into my mouth and spitting it out. An overshare, but important knowledge.

So there I was, on hands and knees, anticipating a baby’s quota of spit-up. I rubbed my esophagus; nothing. I poked the back of my throat; nothing. I thought about rotten, moldy squid protruding from from the butts of decrepit, living shrimp into my mouth; nothing. I nearly gave up but something was still off. I gave my esophagus one more firm squeeze; success! Projectile vomit filled the toilet bowl! Although I felt better, my upper abdomen felt as though it was trying to get outside of me. It was far from unbearable, but since I was already going to put my new family doctor to use the next day to treat a newly established stye in my eyelid, I gathered it would be rude not to bring up my seafood adventure as well.

I made an appointment the next morning to meet with her after work. I let the receptionist know what the issues were and left it at that. Not thirty minutes later, the office called back and let me know that Dr. Hollman would like to see me right away. Luckily, I had an extra prep block that morning so I was able to head in after my first class. Dr. Hollman rushed me into one of her rooms and all but tossed me onto the exam table. As she was sorting through my charts, she asked me all sorts of questions about bowel movements, where the pain was, and exactly what I had eaten over the past few days. After a brief examination, she was relieved to rule out a bowel obstruction, which is why she was so urgent to see me. She expressed that it was good for me to come in while I was experiencing the pain as we may have a better chance of finding out what has been wrong this whole time. She fired up a requisition for an ultrasound, and wrote me a prescription for antibiotics to treat my stye.

Two days later, I found myself in the bathroom multiple times, only excreting mucous and a bit of blood. My wonderfully WebMD savvy wife looked up the medication I was on and confirmed that this was a lesser-known side effect. She prescribed me another visit to the doctor. Dr. Hollman directed me to stop taking the medication and called the ultrasound clinic to see if my appointment could be expedited. Sure enough, they were able to get me in that very weekend. At this point, I was thrilled at the prospect of potentially having some solutions for my ongoing digestive issues. Little did I know that the procedure itself was going include the best tummy rub of my life! It was like a little spa day for my insides.

Fast forward to Monday.

By 8:45am, I already had 7 missed calls. A few from Dr. Hollman’s office, one from my old family doctor’s office, a couple from my wife, and I believe one from my sister (my other emergency contact). Once I got through to Dr. Hollman, she insisted on me coming in at the end of the day. She didn’t want to alarm me, but it was urgent. Do you know how cool it is to work all day knowing that something “urgent” has appeared on a medical exam? There are cooler things. Getting gut-punched by a rhino tusk comes to mind. In my typical theme of “staying positive”, I told my EA’s that something had come up in my ultrasound and that it was likely something not too serious; like stomach cancer. I put it out of my mind for the rest of the day, finished off with energy, and started my trek to the doc. I recall thinking that I should probably prepare for cancer as a possibility; although, I knew in my heart that’s not what it was going to be.

I should also note that it is a hereditary trait for me to catastrophize every situation before it happens. It usually works as an effective defense mechanism.

With a heavy sigh, Dr. Hollman sat down at her desk in front of me. “Well, shit.” was her greeting, verbatim. She opened up my chart and began to describe the lesions that were identified on my liver. “One is nearly 11 cms in your left lobe, and there are multiple smaller lesions on your right.” She was very matter of fact. She didn’t mention anything about them being inoperable, but she also didn’t allow for any consideration of them not being carcinomas. “They are highly suspicious for metastasis and we need to get them looked at right away.” Was she telling me that there is a high likelihood that I have cancer? I was in a weird space between I planned to hear that I had cancer so I should be okay with this and how are people supposed to react when they are told they have tumours on their organs? I am certain that I came across as a bit of a sociopath as I exhibited great apathy towards the situation. “I’m sorry to have to give you shitty news like this.” to which my reply was “Hey! It’s all good. These things happen! See you soon!”

The drive home was a bit of a fuzzy one. Before the appointment, I was starving. I knew I had to eat but the idea of making food for Cambria and myself when I got home was daunting. On top of it all, I had marking to complete. I can’t recall what we had for dinner that night or what happened. I just remember thinking that I couldn’t tell Cariann or Cambria, or my mom, or my ex-wife (Deb), or my sister, or my brother, or Carla, or my cousin Robbie… Thank God for bros that live a distance away and can keep a secret. If I hadn’t been able to call Aaron and Terry on my way home that night, it could have been a disaster.

If you have been following along so far, you already know what the tests that followed revealed. I’m going to leave the story here for now otherwise this is going to turn into a novel. Just remember the key lessons: Get a family doctor. They might not be quite as good as Dr. Hollman but they will get you a lot further in a shorter period of time than utilizing a walk-in clinic. Also, if you have any suspicions activity in your gut, on your skin, in your toenails, under your skull, MAKE AN APPOINTMENT! And even if you are under 40 years of age, get those physicals started. A finger in your butt could easily save your life.

In case you didn't already know, cancer of the rectum can’t wreck Tim. #CantRecTim