First over-nighter in the hospital tomorrow. Just a simple procedure, so hopefully I'll only be in there for the one night.I'll probably be back sometime around friday with some good info and links.
Until all this started back in 2010, I had never heard of a machine called a "Velscope".
It is a little device that most dentists have in their offices, but no one seems to know about.
It is a device that can save lives, and more people need to know about it.
The Velscope is a device that helps doctors detect cancerous and pre-cancerous cells and lesions, both on the surface, and below.
The examination is completely non-invasive, painless, and takes only just mere minutes to complete.
Oral cancer rates have been climbing at alarming speeds among people in my age group in recent years. I would bet that a large number of those diagnosed had never heard of a Velscope either.
So now all of you HAVE heard of a Velscope.
I beg you all to ask your dentist for a Velscope exam at your next visit...Encourage your friends and family to do the same.
It's 10 minutes of your life....and it could ultimately save your life.
don't think "It could never happen to me"
I sure didn't think it could.
*More information on the Velscope can be found at Velscope FAQ
Monday, 16 January 2012
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
Let us all stand and salute those who support
I've been trying to decide where to begin with this site, and how to make it something that can help others in similar situations. So I asked myself "What is the first thing I think of when I remember all this starting?"
And the answer is "My support."
When I got my initial diagnosis in 2010, I can remember almost feeling a little overwhelmed at how much support I had. In the first couple weeks after I made it publicly known I was sick, my phone rang constantly. I received calls from friends I hadn't seen in 5 years, Emails from people i'd worked with when i was 20. Everybody was sending well-wishes, offers of prayer, words of encouragement, and uplifting stories of their loved ones' own triumphs over illness.
Every last one of those well wishes, and kind words played such an integral role in my beating this thing. From the smallest of "Sorry to hear" messages, to those more directly involved.
And you know, Throughout this entire experience, support has been the one constant.
It's there from the second you find out.
It's there holding you up while your world spins out of control, telling you "You can do this"
It's there through the pain, the tears, the laughter, and the fear.
It's there to celebrate your progress, and to carry you through your setbacks.
It's there when you wake up, telling you everything went well.
It's there to help tend to your wounds, and it's there as you start to recover.
And it's always there, happy to remind you "You did it."
So for any of you who have ever found yourself offering up a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or something as simple as a smile, and a word of faith... To you I stand and salute.
The love, care, and compassion that so many of you, so willingly volunteer, is the motivation to push forward,
You are the constant reminder that no matter how dark the road may be, we are never walking alone.
So please, take a moment to thank someone in your support group, they probably don't even realize how much they matter.
And the answer is "My support."
When I got my initial diagnosis in 2010, I can remember almost feeling a little overwhelmed at how much support I had. In the first couple weeks after I made it publicly known I was sick, my phone rang constantly. I received calls from friends I hadn't seen in 5 years, Emails from people i'd worked with when i was 20. Everybody was sending well-wishes, offers of prayer, words of encouragement, and uplifting stories of their loved ones' own triumphs over illness.
Every last one of those well wishes, and kind words played such an integral role in my beating this thing. From the smallest of "Sorry to hear" messages, to those more directly involved.
And you know, Throughout this entire experience, support has been the one constant.
It's there from the second you find out.
It's there holding you up while your world spins out of control, telling you "You can do this"
It's there through the pain, the tears, the laughter, and the fear.
It's there to celebrate your progress, and to carry you through your setbacks.
It's there when you wake up, telling you everything went well.
It's there to help tend to your wounds, and it's there as you start to recover.
And it's always there, happy to remind you "You did it."
So for any of you who have ever found yourself offering up a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or something as simple as a smile, and a word of faith... To you I stand and salute.
The love, care, and compassion that so many of you, so willingly volunteer, is the motivation to push forward,
You are the constant reminder that no matter how dark the road may be, we are never walking alone.
So please, take a moment to thank someone in your support group, they probably don't even realize how much they matter.
Monday, 9 January 2012
The Story Behind Round 1
So, I originally had typed up about a 3 to 4 page story line of events, from right before diagnosis, all the way to the day i started recovery. It was very long winded, and it contained a lot more of the personal stuff, and alot of play by play through it all. I figured i'd type up a more short form version so anyone who reads this isn't forced to put an hr aside just to read it all. Should i get enough requests for it, I'll post the long version at a later time. I couldn't decide what people might want more, so I went with the short version up front :
In October of 2010, I was diagnosed with Oral Cancer (Squamous Cell Carcinoma)
On November 5th of 2010, I underwent surgery to remove the tumor.
Doctors removed about 30% of my tongue on the right side, taking the tumor with it.
Later tests revealed that there were more tumors in my tongue, neck, and lymph nodes.
On January 27th, 2011 I had another surgery. This time they took the entire right half of my tongue.
They took a large chunk of flesh from my left forearm to replace the tongue.
Then they took a large skin graft from my left thigh to repair the left forearm.
They cut me from behind the right ear all the way to the base of my chin, down to my right collar bone.
47 staples in my head.
I had to learn how to speak again, and how to eat again.
It was long, hard, and rough, but I got through it.
In march of 2011, they told me We had beat it. CT scans and bloodwork had all come back clean.
Now all that was left was figuring out how to start feeling normal again.
Who knows, maybe I'll make it to 30 after all.
In October of 2010, I was diagnosed with Oral Cancer (Squamous Cell Carcinoma)
On November 5th of 2010, I underwent surgery to remove the tumor.
Doctors removed about 30% of my tongue on the right side, taking the tumor with it.
Later tests revealed that there were more tumors in my tongue, neck, and lymph nodes.
On January 27th, 2011 I had another surgery. This time they took the entire right half of my tongue.
They took a large chunk of flesh from my left forearm to replace the tongue.
Then they took a large skin graft from my left thigh to repair the left forearm.
They cut me from behind the right ear all the way to the base of my chin, down to my right collar bone.
47 staples in my head.
I had to learn how to speak again, and how to eat again.
It was long, hard, and rough, but I got through it.
In march of 2011, they told me We had beat it. CT scans and bloodwork had all come back clean.
Now all that was left was figuring out how to start feeling normal again.
Who knows, maybe I'll make it to 30 after all.
Sunday, 8 January 2012
First Entry... A brief "Why I'm Here"......1/8/2012
To all who read,
My name is Mark. I am 29 years old, and live in British Columbia, Canada.
In 19 days, I would have marked my first anniversary being cancer free. However, this past Friday, I was informed that I will not be making that celebration, as my cancer has returned.
I have already beat this cancer once, so I have high hopes, a positive attitude, and motivation to fight.
That being said, I am also pretty well-educated on the type of cancer I have, and I am aware that it's return drastically decreases my chances. However, I have had a life full of "against-all-odds" moments, and have always come out on top.
When I got my first diagnosis, I can remember having so many questions. and every time I got one of those questions answered, it only brought out another hundred questions I hadn't even thought of yet. For me, knowledge and foresight was absolute power. I figured if I knew what to expect, than I was already on the road to recovery before I'd begun the fight.
Now, with it returning, I am again filled with so many questions...so much fear of the unknown...
I feel exactly like I did the first time.
How is it, that with all the questions I've already had answered, all the experiences I've gained with the first fight, and all the research I have done, that I still feel like I have no idea what is going on? or what's to come?
So I've decided that no matter how this fight goes, I want it to be more than just another "experience" under my belt. I want to try and use it to help someone else.
I want to start documenting this, from the get go, I'll be recording video entries when I can, and possible write-ups such as this. and I'd like to put it all into one place where people in my position can access it, and maybe they too will be able to go into their own fight feeling like they have a "heads-up" on things.
If I can help but one person feel a little less unsure, scared, or alone in their fight, then I have accomplished my goal with this blog. I'm sure that as things go, I'm sure there will be changes to this page, the layout, and maybe even changes to what I hope to achieve through this outlet.
I'm usually pretty keen on all things internet/computer related, but admittedly have no idea what I'm doing here so I apologize in advance if this seems at all amateur or akward.
My name is Mark. I am 29 years old, and live in British Columbia, Canada.
In 19 days, I would have marked my first anniversary being cancer free. However, this past Friday, I was informed that I will not be making that celebration, as my cancer has returned.
I have already beat this cancer once, so I have high hopes, a positive attitude, and motivation to fight.
That being said, I am also pretty well-educated on the type of cancer I have, and I am aware that it's return drastically decreases my chances. However, I have had a life full of "against-all-odds" moments, and have always come out on top.
When I got my first diagnosis, I can remember having so many questions. and every time I got one of those questions answered, it only brought out another hundred questions I hadn't even thought of yet. For me, knowledge and foresight was absolute power. I figured if I knew what to expect, than I was already on the road to recovery before I'd begun the fight.
Now, with it returning, I am again filled with so many questions...so much fear of the unknown...
I feel exactly like I did the first time.
How is it, that with all the questions I've already had answered, all the experiences I've gained with the first fight, and all the research I have done, that I still feel like I have no idea what is going on? or what's to come?
So I've decided that no matter how this fight goes, I want it to be more than just another "experience" under my belt. I want to try and use it to help someone else.
I want to start documenting this, from the get go, I'll be recording video entries when I can, and possible write-ups such as this. and I'd like to put it all into one place where people in my position can access it, and maybe they too will be able to go into their own fight feeling like they have a "heads-up" on things.
If I can help but one person feel a little less unsure, scared, or alone in their fight, then I have accomplished my goal with this blog. I'm sure that as things go, I'm sure there will be changes to this page, the layout, and maybe even changes to what I hope to achieve through this outlet.
I'm usually pretty keen on all things internet/computer related, but admittedly have no idea what I'm doing here so I apologize in advance if this seems at all amateur or akward.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)