There are few things as personal as the decision to share a cancer diagnosis. I have no business judging anyone else’s choice, but for me, to practice what I preach, I must.
The short version is cancer of the saliva gland. Never any symptoms. A cyst, now removed, that lived inside my upper left lip for decades turned malignant. All indications are there is/was no cancer outside that encapsulated cyst.
It is nothing compared to most cancers.
I have much less to handle than many others have had and/or are dealing with. Not that a cancer diagnosis leaves anyone’s equilibrium undisturbed, but the only person I know who had this was a longtime close friend who died of it about 18 months ago.
As the saying goes, this got my complete attention.
I found this quote from a courageous woman who shared her cancer of the saliva gland story: “When you’re a cancer survivor, denial is not a river in Africa. It is a place you must live in order to keep going with your life: positively, optimistically believing that it will never come back and that you’ll live a healthy, long, uninterrupted life.”
TRIGGER WARNING: GOD IS MENTIONED BELOW
The most remarkable thing happened as I watched the Episodes 1 & 2 of season Three of The Chosen in a movie theater.
I went alone – spur of the moment.
Sunday November 27.
As Little James chased after Jesus, the arthritis in my left knee slowly started to flare. I reverse crossed my legs to no avail.
Then the same slowly increasing pain started in my left toes.
Though vaccinated, I somehow acquired shingles a month ago,
on the left side of my head; which, in turn, started to slowly increase in pain.
All this occurred as Jesus is building to the climax of James query as to why he has not been healed.
“Because I trust you, James.”
I sit up near the front and it was 100% clear that Jesus was speaking to me.
None of the pain actually disturbed me.
It was as though I was observing it in someone else’s body, or that
my soul was observing, oh, this is what James goes through.
I am getting the opportunity for Jesus to trust me.
Without a miraculous cure.
That was only prelude.
I had a small cyst in my upper left lip for decades.
Over the years, on my regular visits, dentists would ask if it were bigger – it never was– and say we will keep an eye on it.
Over a month ago, the dentist was feeling it and was surprised to find that it moved.
It was not anchored .
Instead went up and down inside my lip.
I was near the end of the months long dental implant process.
She said when you go back to the oral surgeon, to clear me to put the crown on the implant, have him look at it and then she wrote up something formal for me to take to the oral surgeon.
He had looked at it on an earlier visit and asked the usual questions.
I gave the same answers: been there forever and not growing.
November 30 was my last oral surgeon appointment to be cleared for the crown to be put on top of the implant.
He moved it around and said probably a clogged salivary gland but recommended removing it.
I said I am not using it and am not here to argue with your recommendations.
Turns out they could take me December 2, two days later.
Fine.
That is my birthday but I already have shingles, (yes, I was vaccinated) and a cold, so was not going anywhere; might as well pile it all on.
He had no problem getting out the encapsulated pea sized cyst.
Doctor says we will send it out to the lab but I doubt anything there.
Come back in two weeks – December 16 – for the results.
On that date, he did a great job telling me what was in the report:
“Low grade salivary gland adenocarcinoma, not otherwise specified.”
My resentment at having to wait an hour to see him dissipated completely along with my concern over the sewer back up in my basement discovered that morning.
I asked if it was caused by my long ago habit of using “wet snuff” /chewing tobacco, just a pinch between my cheek and gum?
He said no.
I asked if it were related to prostate/breast cancer?
He said no.
That is because I had never heard of cancer of the saliva gland until a friend had it.
The kind she had is related to prostate/breast cancer.
It killed her 18 months ago.
Doc said “I do a couple hundred of these cysts a year and this one surprised me.”
I smiled and said “Well, Doc, in my heretofore long life, there have been a lot of surprises, some better than others.”
He said they recommend taking out more of the margin or periphery, as they call it.
I get it; make sure to remove all the cancer cells.
“Can you take it out today? I only ask because you cannot take it out yesterday.”
He said if you want to –
YES! I interjected.
No issues there as he said I can still see right where I went in so I will get exactly the tissue that surrounded it.
Now that goes to the lab and my appointment to return to get the results January 6.
I have a plan regardless of that result, positive or negative.
I have wrapped my head around this sudden news and am comfortable in that I know what I have to do and that I can do it.
With God’s help, which is available for the asking.
December 26, after consulting with the spouse of my late friend who had the same diagnosis, I left a message that I needed those lab results as soon as they are available.
Driving to Kentucky to be with daughter Erin on December 27, the nurse calls about 9:30, very friendly and understanding, but stating the doctor has to review the results with me, which he might do over the phone.
I said the report is in?
Yes she responded.
I courteously emphasized the time sensitivity of this matter to me.
She said she understood everything clearly.
I said if that is the case, I have some questions for you about the universe.
I called some other friends to defuse my frustration that I have to wait and not sure how to handle that if I hear nothing before the January 6 appointment.
Within 3 hours, the doctor calls, saying he had received my message but was going to call regardless.
Then he asked “How are you?”
I said “You are about to tell me.”
Cancer free.
Second tissue sample, from around the cyst, all clear.
My condition has to be monitored going forward per the protocol.
Which fits into the rest of my plan.
I have been saying a daily prayer asking God to remove my pride.
Part of that pride was the belief that I would never get cancer.
God reminded me that is not my decision and I am as subject to it just like anyone else.
Not the wake-up call I would have chosen.
Whenever I am told a friend has had cancer for X amount of time, I think, I should have been told earlier.
This delay prevented me from more specific prayers for that person.
Kurt’s plan is to be the prayer, not the prayee.
Another pride bubble burst.
One of the lasting lessons from my father is that sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is to let them do something for you.
And I have wholeheartedly adopted that in the context of never standing in the way of anyone who wanted to do something for me.
I said to my friend after her cancer of the saliva gland diagnosis: “You are in a position to help a lot of people.”
“Oh. How’s that?” was the skeptical response.
I repeated the above lesson in the context that many people would be asking to do things for her and she could help them by letting them do so.
So, says God to Kurt: Are you going to walk the walk? Or were you just talking the talk?
One of my daily reflections is about choosing my attitude for the day.
Next to this I have written: “What a Blessing!”
As life’s challenges arise, I say this to myself until given the grace to discern the answer.
So far, this one has been the toughest.
But the perspective I choose is that this process has been a life-saving blessing.
Why remove this cyst now?
When it is low grade, low cell proliferation, not enough cancer cells to determine what cancer category it is? Under the microscope?
I choose to believe this is God’s hand in my life.
The encapsulated cyst is removed soon after it turns malignant.
There is no sign of cancer outside that cyst.
As far as I am concerned, my dentist saved my life.
You can draw your own conclusions but you will not be able to convince me otherwise.
So, yes, one of the great blessings of my life was the cancer diagnosis that, at the time, hit me like a tank that then backed up and ran over me again.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, life goes on.
There were and are absolutely no symptoms.
Looking forward to going to the next great adventures God has in store!
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and God bless!
“God’s provision is not to give us control but to call us to faith. To trust Him. Children trust because they are oblivious. We are called to trust as children, but we are also called to much more. We are called to trust like a desert tree. To sink our roots in what we cannot see, and through our faith abound and be fruitful in a dry and barren world.”
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2-6-2023
NOT Cancer update
The Lord works in mysterious ways his Wonders to perform.
Through the kindness of a high-school classmate, the Mayo clinic contacted me and the slides of the cyst that was removed from my upper left lip on December 2, 2022, were sent from Detroit to Mayo in Minnesota.
Their pathologists diagnosis, relayed by me on Friday, 2-3-2023 6:52 P.M. by telephone.
It was the Mayo clinic resident, who had interviewed me by zoom Thursday, when I was told just get an MRI in a few months for a baseline, and follow through with oral surgeon, visit every 6 months for 2 years.
“I discussed the result of the outside pathology reading.
Our pathologist determined it was a
pleomorphic adenoma with mild atypia,
which is a benign lesion, and can be followed with serial observation.
We would already discussed this plan with the patient, and he was amenable
to following up locally with his dentist and oral surgeon.
Karl Khandalavala, M.D.”
I was in the parking lot at the movie theater for the 7 pm showing of the finale of season 3 of The Chosen.
I am still processing the roller-coaster ride of the last 2 months.
The question arose: then they did not need to do the second surgery taking out the surrounding tissue.
I asked my daughter why first pathology report concluded carcinoma?
Why not hedge the bet? Like say, possible carcinoma?
She said, as we all know, humans make mistakes.
The downside of being wrong with the carcinoma conclusion is minor compared to the downside of being wrong with concluding not cancer.
All valid points.
Then my pride kicked in.
Gee, you have hundreds of people praying for you and now, as my mother said, I find out I did not have what I thought I was cured of.
I was taught that what other people are thinking of me is none of my business.
Who knows God’s plan for sure?
I choose the perspective that it was all a blessing.
To live up to what I have said others should do in the same situation, I disclosed the diagnosis and accepted help from numerous family and friends.
I could have not said yes to the second procedure removing the tissue around where the cyst had been.
I could have reached out to my friend, then, to send the slides to Mayo.
I could have kept the entire process to myself or a small group.
I regret nothing about how it played out.
I would change nothing if I had it to do over again.
For numerous reasons, it has all been a blessing.
I could feel the energy of the humbling support I received.
It has been a great growth spurt on my spiritual path.
As the poet W. H. Auden reportedly said,
“We are here to help others. What the others are here for, I do not know.”
I look forward to doubling my efforts to help others and, for the moment, accept that I will be in the position of reaching out again for the help of others.
I have experienced how rewarding both are.
Last Thursday, at 92, my mother said she is waiting for someone to interview her on her secret to living so long.
“And I know what I am going to tell them:
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.”