I am still the luckiest unlucky man. I suppose it is a matter of perspective but knowing how bad things can get makes me appreciate when they are not that bad.
Medical Journey: An Unexpected Diagnosis
Last October, I visited my doctor about an issue with my bollocks. I consider myself fortunate to have a GP, as many people in Ontario don’t have access to one. I’ll spare you the uncomfortable details, but my doctor ordered an ultrasound for me.
When I went for the ultrasound that Friday, I noticed something strange. Though it was supposed to focus on my lower abdomen, the technician began just below my ribs and spent about 30 minutes of the 40-minute procedure scanning my upper abdomen and side. This unusual focus made me suspect something wasn’t right.
The following Monday, I received a call from my doctor’s office asking me to schedule an appointment for the results, which I did online for Friday. Strangely, they called again the next day with the same request. I explained I had already booked for Friday. Then on Wednesday, they called yet again. By this point, I was certain something concerning had been found.
On Friday, I sat nervously in the examination room, staring at tongue depressors and cotton balls while waiting. When my doctor entered, he asked if I’d been feeling well apart from my original complaint. After I confirmed I was fine, he informed me that the ultrasound had revealed two large masses in my abdomen. He explained he would arrange a CT scan for me and, while cautioning against premature panic, mentioned that one mass appeared to be in my pancreas, so he would likely refer me to the pancreatic cancer center at Princess Margaret Hospital. He explained that was probably the fastest way to a CT scan.
Anxiety began to set in. Pancreatic cancer has notoriously poor survival rates. I started researching private clinics that might provide faster scanning options over the weekend. While I found places in Toronto offering ultrasounds and MRIs, none provided CT scans. I told my sister that if the wait for a CT scan was going to be weeks, I would drive to Buffalo to get it done immediately.
Fortunately, Princess Margaret Hospital called on Monday, and I had the scan just two days later. They take potential pancreatic cancer very seriously. The CT procedure itself was straightforward, having experienced it before. The trick is to sit still which for me wasn’t easy as my arms needed to be above my head.
A few days later—approximately two weeks after the initial ultrasound—I waited alone in an examination room for the results. The fellow (Princess Margaret is a teaching hospital) delivered both good and concerning news. Good news, I didn’t have pancreatic cancer. Bad news, they suspected lymphoma. One tumor was positioned adjacent to my pancreas, while the second was wrapped around my thoracic aorta.
Since it wasn’t pancreatic cancer, they attempted to transfer me to the lymphoma clinic the following day, but my transfer was denied. They tried again the next day with the same result. By this point, I was extremely anxious and irritable—while medical departments debated who should treat me, my tumors continued to grow.
Continuing My Medical Journey
I began noticing changes in my body—I couldn’t eat as much as before. My stomach felt hard and protruded noticeably. The tumors were clearly occupying space within me. I learned that the lymphoma clinic had declined my transfer because they required a confirmed diagnosis, which meant I needed a biopsy.
A week later, I went to Toronto General for the procedure. The process moved efficiently after check-in—I was quickly called in, given hospital clothes to change into, and instructed to wait on a gurney. A young nurse soon arrived to take my information and insert an IV. About thirty minutes later, another nurse wheeled me into the operating room.
There, I met the medical team, including the doctor performing the biopsy. She asked if I wanted sedation, to which I replied, “Always.” She laughed at this and explained that she would also numb the area locally, so I shouldn’t feel anything, though she warned the needle would be quite long. She explained the procedure would be ultrasound-guided, starting from the front of my body, with the possibility of trying from the back if she couldn’t get a clear view of the tumor.
However, as soon as she placed the gel-covered ultrasound probe on my abdomen, she exclaimed, “Oh! There it is, right there. I guess we can use the short needle.” I considered this a small mercy. The biopsy itself was painless. After spending an hour in recovery, I changed back into my clothes and walked home.
A few days later, I received a call referring me to the lymphoma clinic. The biopsy results indicated Follicular Lymphoma, a type of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. At PM I met with Dr. Kridel, he explained that the next step was a PET scan to determine how far the cancer had spread. This information would be crucial for determining the stage of my cancer and planning appropriate treatment.
PET Scan and Further Diagnosis
A PET scan is a fascinating procedure, similar to a CT scan where you’re placed into a machine that produces images while making various mechanical sounds. The key difference, however, is the use of radioactive sugar.
When I arrived for my procedure, I was directed to sit in a chair typically used for blood draws, complete with large padded armrests. The nurse wheeled in a metal box on a trolley, and when she opened it, I saw a needle housed in a metal case. These precautions were necessary because the material inside was radioactive sugar. The concept behind this technique is clever—once injected, the sugar flows through the bloodstream and concentrates in areas of the body that consume high amounts of energy.
The scan results were illuminating. The brain appeared bright because it uses substantial energy. The bladder was highlighted as the kidneys processed the sugar, causing it to accumulate there. Additionally, lymph nodes in my groin, armpits, and neck were visible. Perhaps most concerning was the revelation of a tumor near my right ear. (which is on the left of the image below.)
Based on this information and the radiologist’s report, I was diagnosed with stage 4 lymphoma. The staging reflected the cancer’s extensive spread—appearing both above and below my diaphragm, on both sides of my body, and involving other organs including my kidneys and bones.
The scan also raised concerns about transformation. Follicular lymphoma can potentially transform into Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, a significantly more aggressive cancer. As a result, two additional biopsies were scheduled—one in my neck and another on the tumor in my jaw. I volunteered to provide extra samples for research purposes, hoping to contribute to broader medical knowledge.
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