Erik’s Blog: Board Shorts and Business Suits

I am currently just under 3 and a half years out since my last chemo treatment. On May 9th, 2002 I was diagnosed with testicular cancer.

I had just finished with my 2nd year of college and my first semester at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. I was running regularly to keep in shape for the following years cross country and track season. The next week I was set to begin training for a nursing assistant position to help me gain experience for my planned application to medical school. I went in to the doctor on the Friday after I returned home from school to get a pain I was having in my abdomen checked out.

See, during the second half of sophomore year I began to feel a pain in my abdomen when I worked out. After 3 weeks I finally went to the student med center to get it checked out. “Hernia,” said the doctor. “Great, so can I still workout?” I was just coming off a cross country season where I was running 50-70 miles a week, not working out would have been a crazy thought. “I wouldn’t recommend it, you should get in to the surgeon over spring break to get this taken care.” Excellent I thought to myself. While all my friends were on some beach in Mexico I would be get sliced open and hanging out with my parents back in Wisconsin.

So, I did what was best and went home over break. However, when I had my check up with the surgeon just 2 days before I was scheduled to have laparoscopic hernia surgery I found out it wasn’t a hernia at all. So what was it? After another appointment with my family physician I come to find out it is more than likely an inflammation of the seal around the testicle. Antibiotics will do the trick, 3 weeks.

I went back to Ann Arbor and took my pills everyday fully expecting the pain to subside. Four weeks later, no such luck. At this point I began to get worried and jokingly threw around the statement, “Oh, it’s probably just cancer.” That didn’t win me any sympathy, just slaps on the shoulder from my girlfriend who didn’t think it was very funny. “3 more weeks of antibiotics might do the trick, then we can take a look at you when you get home in another month,” said my family doctor. I contacted him rather than going back to the student med center. I was not about to return to the place where this whack job doc saw me for 2 minutes and said, “Hernia, get surgery.”

The pain came and went but was nothing unbearable. I lifted weights 5 days a week, ran, and played pickup basketball games. I didn’t think too much about it, just a coming and going here and there. I finished out my sophomore year and made it back home. I went in right away to see the doctor who said, “Maybe we should get you in for an ultrasound.” Being in biomedical engineering I realized that some nice nurse was going to be rubbing jelly on my privates and then placing a magic wand on it. Interesting, I guess.

I arrived at the hospital Monday the 6th of May and went through the pre-appointment routine of filling out papers, showing insurance and the waiting. Finally it was my turn. I am on the more open side when it comes to my sexuality so it wasn’t that weird. I even struck up a conversation with the nurse asking her about the ultrasound equipment and the pictures that were appearing on the screen. She said “It looks healthy and normal,” and I said “Great, but I think the one in question is the right one not the left.” So I got to spend a few extra minutes with her. Once on the correct side the images looked quite a bit different. The painful testicle had a lot more red lines shooting up on the screen as compared with the right. I asked, “What are all those red lines in that lump attached to my testicle?” “Hmm. Well the red lines are where blood flow is and there just happens to be more blood flow in this region than in the others, that’s all. You’ll find out more when the doctor takes a look at the results.” Nice political response.

I didn’t think too much about it those last words we spoke together but that’s not to say it wasn’t on my mind. I just chose to focus on other things.

Tuesday went by like any other Tuesday for someone who hadn’t started work yet, just relax. Wednesday came and I was expecting the results from my test. since I hadn’t heard from anyone on Tuesday I figured I was in the clear, they would’ve called right away if something was wrong. So I awoke and was planning to cut the grass early so I could get to the driving range before the end of work rush. I was at the kitchen counter eating breakfast when the phone rang. I can still remember my heart speeding up a little bit. “Hello?” On the other end was my mother, half in tears, “Erik, Dr. — called and said you have testicular cancer.” She could barely get the words out. “BS,” I retorted swiftly, “Gotta be a mistake.” I spent the next two minutes trying to convince my mother it was the wrong results until I couldn’t stand her in tears anymore, and hung up the phone. Besides I had grass to cut.

Outside to mow the lawn I went. Within twenty minutes, my father arrived home from work followed shortly by my mother. I kept cutting. Finally my Dad came out and stopped me from cutting saying, “Erik, we really have to go see the doctor.” I parked the mower, went inside and tried to console my mother the only way I new how, cracking some jokes.

We went to the doctor and didn’t have to wait. Apparently when you have a life threatening disease the waiting rooms really don’t apply to you. We went to his office to find a doctor who was beside himself. A genuinely great guy I think he was beating himself up inside for not catching it the first time I was in his office, back during spring break. “You are going to have to meet with the oncologist Erik. I have an appointment for you right away. You know they have come a long way with treatment and testicular cancer is one of the most treatable cancers in the world.” This all fell on deaf ears as I was in need of a different answer. How about “April Fools, or, Got ya this time didn’t I.” No, I was meeting with the Oncologist in 1 hour to discuss my options…

“I have to get what, removed when.”

My orchiectomy, or in other words testicle removal, was scheduled for the following morning at 8:00 am. We needed to get the tumor out ASAP to see what kind it was. Not even a going away party for the little guy. Gone, just like that.

I never did get to the driving range, or finish the lawn. Instead I went to the bookstore and bought Lance Armstrong’s, It’s Not About The Bike book. Kind of ironic since I spent most of my sophomore year with it in my trunk. A fellow runner of mine had lent it to me and said it’s a great inspirational story for any athlete. I returned it to him after not reading it. This time I had reason to.

Go onto the first surgery