MY DARK KNIGHT

I’ve recently considered ending my cancer blog. After all, I’m out playing golf, swimming in Georgian Bay and painting kitchens and bathrooms. As well, the epilogue of Jacques’ journey has been written. But a phone call a few nights ago changed everything.

It was Dr. Goldman.

“Just got the results of your latest CT scan. Can you come in next week for an appointment?”

Any time your oncologist calls within 36 hours of a CT scan, it can’t be good news.

“ Doctor, just tell me what’s wrong,” I ventured courageously.

“Are you sure?” he answered. “I don’t like breaking this kind of information over the phone.”

“I’m good with it. Fire away?” I replied.

“Well,” he continued, “your scan revealed that the small tumour that we spotted in your abdomen last December has increased in size substantially. I’m still not sure if it’s a slow growing or aggressive tumour but it now measures 25 mm in diameter. This could be very serious.”

Maybe because of the recurring stitch in my right side this past month and a suspicious soreness in my right shoulder, the news didn’t come as a real surprise.

“Does that mean more chemo or radiation?” I asked tentatively.

“I’m not sure what to do at this point,” he responded, momentarily undermining my confidence in the Dark Knight.

“What about getting a second opinion?” I suggested.

Briefly, I felt like Gilligan at the helm of the SS Minnow.

“Good idea,” Dr. Goldman replied after a long delay. “Let’s talk to Dr. Parker at Sunnybrook. She was the one you saw last January after your PET scan.”

And so my cancer journey resumes. Although I know that my backpack is full of good resources this time around, I do feel a bit like I’m back on an island again.