How big is your C? (or, Good News Part II)

Part of the head-game of this adventure over the last month is that "cancer" is a big fatty-fat scary word.  But from the start, the doctors have been pretty clear: this isn't The Big C.  Testicular cancer, while not exactly a day at the ballpark (ahem) isn't the long drawn out battle that so many face.  At most, this is the medium c.

Yesterday, my new oncologist, who's a badass woman who has spent the last 25 years working in uro-genital oncology, gave two solid options for the path forward.  Both of them are wayyyyyy better than the options that I'd been anticipating and dreading for the last week or so.

Right now, I'm leaning toward the more aggressive choice, which would be a single, strong dose of chemo sometime in early July.  Most patients who do this don't experience much nausea, and only some lose their hair (they keep telling me that hair tends to grow back thicker and curlier after chemo, possibly meaning that I could have even BIGGER hair - a further sign of the coming apocalypse?).  My immune system would be compromised for about a month, and I'd have to avoid most of you germy people with all of your germiness, dirty hands and sneezing (you know who you are), but once that period's past there's less than a 7% chance that I'd have to deal with any of this again.

The other option would be to simply wait and see, and continue to monitor with CAT Scans every few months for the next few years.  The downside here, is that if the cancer does come back, it would likely be in the lymph nodes in my abdomen, and the treatment for that would be significantly worse.  There's only a 15-20% chance of a recurrence if I do nothing and choose to just wait and see...but if I happen to be in the group that loses the bet, the treatment will be significantly harder.  

Generally, I'm in a head space right now where more than anything, I just want to get this done once and for all, and then move on....I look forward to a time when we all collectively refer to this period as: "That Spring When We All Talked About Mark's Balls."  The chemo seems like the best chance I've got to make sure that this is a one-time thing, and so that's where I'm leaning. 

As a side-note, the badass oncologist did perform a quick exam during our meeting, and proactively noted that I had the best prosthetic she'd ever seen (I went with the cadillac option - this didn't feel like the time to try and look for a bargain).  New Leftee, who's still brand new in the world like a tender flower waiting to be plucked, coyly blushed at the compliment.  

Finally, check out Google.com today for a pretty sweet celebration of the opening of the first drive-in theatre 79 years ago today.