Were this a movie instead of a blog post, this is the point in the film where we would watch the 1980s greatest contribution – the montage. Images would zip by: graduations from high school, college, and grad school, a first job, an engagement, buying a house, changing jobs to be closer to the new home, and a somber look as the doctor sat me down to tell me three fateful words… “You have cancer.”
The film would slow down to reveal this critical moment in my life story. In the fall of 2016, I discovered a lump on my left testicle during a routine self-exam in the shower. To make a long story short, it turned out to be stage II testicular cancer which had spread to my lymph nodes.
From here, the speed would pick back up and the montage would continue: ten grueling weeks of chemotherapy, losing my hair, gaining weight, ringing the bell (marking the end of chemo,) being declared in remission, and committing to a new mission – spreading testicular cancer awareness through my website, A Ballsy Sense of Tumor.
Yet, the latter half of this story isn’t about cancer – it’s about what came next. While facing cancer and enduring surgery and chemotherapy were the physically toughest things I ever had encountered, the aftermath was far more brutal on the emotional front.
It was during this period that I faced clinical depression the second time in my rather short life. However, due to my experiences in 2006, I was far more ready to face this beast the second time around.
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image credit: pixabay
