By Ernie Williamson
The Bulletin
As I rolled out of the hospital in my new wheelchair, a doctor stopped me.
“Take care of yourself,” he said. “You have had a life-changing bad break, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have another.”
The “bad break” was transverse myelitis, a rare condition that causes spinal cord inflammation.
There are only about 1,500 U.S. cases each year. Some of us recover, others - like me - do not.
That was 2012. I have been in a wheelchair ever since.
Fast-forward to November 2023.
I was drying myself after a shower and just happened to feel a lump on my breast.
Couldn’t be, I thought.
I googled breast cancer and found that most lumps in male breasts turn out to be cysts and less than one percent of breast cancer cases are males.
Phew. I felt reassured. Stupidly, I waited.
But as the days passed, the lump grew, and the doctor’s words from 12 years earlier consumed me.
I made an appointment with my primary care doctor, expecting a clean bill of health.
Once the exam started, however, I could tell trouble was brewing.
Sure enough. After examining the breast area, my doctor ordered a mammogram.
A few days later, I sat in a waiting room filled with women waiting for mammograms.
My wife and I managed a laugh when one of the avalanche of forms asked if I were pregnant and when was my last cycle.
That would be the last laugh that day.
After the tests, a doctor came in and announced that I had breast cancer and would most likely need surgery, chemotherapy and radiation.
During the initial shock, I could not help but dwell on how unfair it was to have two “bad breaks.” How could all this happen to a guy who exercised and never smoked, drank or abused drugs?
My wife encouraged me to stay positive.
So, the first thing I did was transfer my case to MD Anderson. That felt like a second home since my wife had spent time there during her own battle against cancer.
There were blood tests, another mammogram, another ultrasound and a consultation with a team of doctors. Because of my transverse myelitis and my age, a neuro oncologist and a geriatric medicine specialist were brought in to check for complications.
In the battle against cancer, nothing is more stressful than waiting for test results.
During a week of waiting for results of a full-body scan, I could not sleep or eat. I was scared.
The scan had been ordered to determine if the cancer had spread to other organs. My oncologist told me the breast cancer had been there “a long time” and that if the cancer had spread, the best we could hope for was “remission.”
Time seemed to stand still as I waited for the results. But, finally, some good news. The cancer had not spread to other organs.
I was given a treatment plan. I am now undergoing chemotherapy that will be followed by radiation and then surgery.
But enough about me. Just take it from me: Breast cancer is not solely a women’s disease.
Here are some facts from the National Cancer Institute:
SURVIVAL RATES: When addressed with standard treatment, breast cancer survival rates are the same for men and women. However, men are more likely to ignore a lump in their breast and tend to present at higher stages than women, making survival rates for men less favorable.
SYMPTOMS: A painless lump or thickening of the skin on the chest; a change in skin covering the chest such as color, bleeding or discharge from the nipple.
RISK FACTORS: The chances of a male getting breast cancer increase with age. Male breast cancer is most often diagnosed in men in their sixties.
Also, your risk of getting breast cancer goes up if you have a blood relative with breast cancer. Obesity and liver diseases also raise the risk.
I was reluctant to write this column because I was embarrassed about having breast cancer. Would people think I was less masculine?
As silly as it sounds, I am not alone with these thoughts. One survey found 52 percent of male patients at treatment facilities felt embarrassed while in a waiting room filled with women.
But I am done with feeling embarrassed, and I write this column in hopes my story will trigger some other guy into making a life-saving trip to his doctor.
Guys, the odds are about 1 in 800 that a male will get breast cancer in his lifetime.
But as my case shows, somebody will be the one.
(Ernie Williamson welcomes reader input. Please contact Ernie at williamsonernie@gmail.com)
Comments