Well, OK, no, not really. I do not intend to try to get hold of any prescription pot. But I did have surgery yesterday and it did turn out to be an eventful day. Here's the info, for those of you who are curious ... and let me say right up front that there is more good news than bad here.

So let me get the ugly part out of the way first: It turns out that I do have cancer.

So there it is, the "C" word, which seems to be little more than an eventuality in my family. My mom and my maternal grandmother both got cancer when they were each about five years older than I am now ... and there's been plenty of other cancer cases in my family. So it was really little more than just a matter of time.

And I did bring this on myself, to a large degree. I have bladder cancer, and bladder cancer in men is caused by smoking more often than not. I've smoked for 26 years, so there's that.

Had I admitted on the blog that I'm a smoker? No, I don't think so. I'm ashamed of myself for smoking. I've quit for fairly long periods a few times, but I've always come back to it. Looks like this time I have to quit and stay quit. Period.

And being so out of shape has made things worse, too. Fat guys who smoke are prime candidates for ... well, for a number of ailments, including bladder cancer. And so you get what I have here.

Now the good parts: One, this was caught before it could kill me. My urologist talked to my wife while I was in post-op yesterday and he told her that it's a damn good thing I came in when I did. If it had gone much longer, the prognosis wouldn't be very good. The cancerous mass in my bladder was taking up about 45 percent of my bladder space.

And another good thing to report is that my surgeon was able to get (these are his numbers) 95 to 98 percent of the cancer out of my bladder.

Now this next part isn't really clearly good news ... but I do think it's neat. My urologist says that chemo isn't really practical in my case; he's sure that it wouldn't keep the cancer at bay. What's probably going to happen now is that they're going to remove my bladder and build me a new one. Really! They're going to take a little piece of my intestine and build a new bladder out of it. So I'm gonna be kinda like Steve Austin. Except my new bladder won't technically be bionic. But I do expect it to give me super-human peeing powers.

I spent last night in the hospital and MAN and am I glad to be out of there. There was an old man down the hall from me who apparently needed to talk to his nurse every few minutes AND who apparently couldn't figure out how to push the "Call" button. So what he did was lay in his bed and shout "LAAAADY!" over and over and over and over and over again. After three or four hours of that I was ready to go down the hall and beat him with my catheter bag.

Right now, the worst thing about my situation ... at least, the part I keep focusing on right now ... is that I'm going to miss the next three weeks of work, which means no paycheck. And after the next surgery to replace my bladder I'll miss another long period of work. I hope they're able to do the next surgery soon so that the recovery time will run together instead of being two separate periods of missed work.

But on the other hand, I will get to sit around and be waited on hand and foot for a few weeks. And you better believe I'll milk this for all it's worth. Just don't tell Wendy I said that.

So there's the update. The news was bad but the prognosis is good and the situation will ultimately lead to unavoidable lifestyle changes that will make me healthier in the long run. The smoking has to go and it's time to get serious about exercise.

But not this week. I'm sitting here with a catheter that I'll have to have for the next five days at least, and it is pretty uncomfortable and just plain gross. So, this week I plan to spend some quality time with my couch, putting on my most pitiful face and asking anyone within shouting distance to PLEEEEASE bring me a root beer.

If necessary, I'll resort to shouting "LAAADY!!"

Labels: Bladder Cancer, Personal