My Bladder Cancer Story

I had been urinating blood for over a year. At first, it was only every so often. I knew I should have had it checked out with a medical professional, but I was too scared. I noticed that I couldn't walk as far over the year, but I still refused.

I was about to head to work one morning, but I just wasn't feeling well. I called in sick, took a rest, and then headed to a local urgent care, where my primary sent me. They didn't know what was going on, but they gave me some antibiotics.

I finally got an appointment with my primary, who gave me a list of some specialists he wanted me to see. One of them was in the same building, so I stopped there and made an appointment. I then went home and made appointments with the others.

Specialist appointment led to same-day surgery

I went to the first specialist, who told me I needed to go directly to the hospital, as I was 2 units short of iron and 3 units short of blood. The hospital took blood and did other tests. Then I was told that I was going to be admitted. When I went to the hospital, I figured that I would only be there for a few hours, so the admission was a surprise.

I hadn’t spent time in a hospital since I was born, and now I am in my 60s. Before I knew it, they were sticking a catheter onto me, along with IVs. They finally took me up to a room, and I was told that they would come to get me between 8 pm and 8:30 pm for my operation. I figured that I had a hernia, and that it needed to be taken care of.

This was about 2:30 pm, so I turned on the TV and got comfortable. About 4 pm, one of the nurses came into the room and said someone was going to come and take me down within the next 30 minutes, as an opening occurred. About 20 minutes later, I found myself being wheeled down to the pre-op area.

Thought I was having a hernia repaired, but it was cancer

As I waited in pre-op, a couple of medical people explained the procedures that they were going to be involved with while I was being operated on. I answered any questions they had and we had a great conversation. Heck, I knew others who had hernia operations, so I wasn't worried about anything.

A figure in surgery gear came over and introduced himself to me. He said he was going to be doing my bladder cancer operation in a little bit. My eyes got wide and I said, "Huh?" He looked at me strangely and said, "Bladder cancer operation." After looking at me again he said, "You didn't know?"

He explained things to me, and said it appeared I have had it for quite a while. The next morning, one of the hospital doctors came into my room. He asked me if I was a smoker, and when I had last smoked. I told him that it was the day before, and that I had no plans on going back to it. He explained that smoking was the number 1 cause of bladder cancer. He then explained that they were only able to get 60 percent of the cancer out of me because I had a hernia that was in the way, and that it was going to take another surgery after the hernia surgery to get the rest of it.

My “daughter” helped me through it

What helped me mostly is that someone that I refer to as my "Church Daughter" would come to visit me on her days off from work. I first met her about 10 years earlier, and we have a good friendship. I watched her go from being a high school freshman to a registered nurse over time. She would explain stuff to me, and if a doctor was in the room, she knew the right questions to ask. As far as they knew, she was my daughter, and I had told them that she is an RN, but works at another hospital. I was finally released from the hospital, but with the 40 percent in me still.

About 6 weeks later I went back for out-patient surgery to get the rest of the cancer out of me. My insurance wouldn't pay for the surgery at the same hospital, but it paid for a hospital that was closer to me, which happened to be the same one that my "daughter" works in, and she happened to be off that day. The surgery itself went fine, but they had trouble getting me to awaken, so I got to spend the night there.

The cancer grew back

Several months went by, and I saw the surgeon, who explained that part of my bladder had been replaced by bladder tumors. He also said that it had been a very long time since he last removed that much from someone. He felt that my progress had been going good. I began telling people that I was cancer-free, since all the indications that he gave me pointed in that direction.

I went back to him a third time, and they stuck a camera into me. I was not looking in the direction of the screen when I suddenly heard him say, “I was afraid of that. Take a look." I turned my head and looked at the screen, where he began to show me the tumor activity that was going on.

Cautiously optimistic

I had another operation a few weeks later, and, ever since, I have refused to tell anybody that I am "cancer-free". The surgeon explained things to me the next time I saw him, and said he wants me to go to a specialist to try other treatments.

It would be nice to be able to tell people that I am cancer-free, but I have no plans to ever tell people that ever again. I am going to beat cancer, but am not willing to say that I am cancer-free.

Listen to my bladder cancer story on YouTube.