Not ME Cancer

By William S. Laird

Not ME Cancer is a book by a cancer survivor detailing his journey to survival using the most aggressive cancer treatments and surgical procedures from a physical, mental, and spiritual perspective. The disclosure of a cancer diagnosis often arrives unexpectedly, catching individuals off guard. Within the pages of this literary work, the author shares their distinctive attributes that have propelled them into the category of cancer survivors, defying statistical projections. This profound testament delves profoundly into the realm of conquering the most formidable cancer treatments and intricate surgical procedures, offering insights from physical, mental, and spiritual perspectives.

At its core, this book serves as an emblem of hope, emanating from literature by cancer survivors and literature elucidating the potential of positivity. Its objective is to inspire courage among readers who have grappled with the specter of cancer. Through the portrayal of personal tenacity and the real-life accounts of actual trials and triumphs, it endeavors to instill hope and inspiration in those whose lives have been impacted by the ravages of the disease.

In instances where medical professionals assert that conventional norms are being defied, the resounding message echoes in harmony with the narrative woven within these pages. The narrative counters the notion that a cancer diagnosis inevitably leads to death. This book, in its intimate exposition, unfurls the intricacies of cultivating the right mindset, enduring the physical demands, and fostering the vital spiritual interconnectedness needed not only for survival, but for flourishing amidst adversity.

Drawing themes from literature by a cancer survivor and encompassing the potential of positivity, this book encapsulates the essence of resilience in the face of life's most daunting trials.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665729222

William S. Laird

At the time of publication William is thriving despite years of ongoing cancer treatments! With a college education in Business Administration and years of manufacturing and marketing experience he currently holds the position of President at an equipment provider and systems integration company serving a variety of industries across North America. William and his wife Victoria reside in the countryside of Kentucky and are parents to a total of five children between them. They share love for each other and for the various farm, and domestic animals that reside on their sprawling estate.

Book preview

Contents

Preface

Destination: Michigan

You Have Cancer

Surgical Results and Recovery

Post-Operative in Michigan

The Long Ride Home

Facing the Reality of Cancer

The Waiting Game

Expect the Unexpected

Preparing for Battle

Removing the Cancer

A Day at a Time

Signs of Hope

Helping Others

Life Goes On

Each Day Is a Gift

Life Moves Quickly

The Next Steps

Pushing Through

The Challenge Continues

Understanding the Situation

A Different Direction

Here We Go!

Getting Through Rough Waters

Hug Your Angels

The CT Scan Results

A Slight Delay

Continuing On with Treatments

The Final Treatments

The Long Wait

The Status of Friends

My Life Moves Forward

The Spirit of the Survivor

Preface

I really never had any intention of writing a book in my lifetime but I felt there was important messaging that I could offer in the hopes of helping others. Using my own story, I offer a testimony of surviving a tough cancer battle, though the same principles can be used for other life troubles when your own survival is at risk.

Each one of us starts our life with no real understanding of the direction it may take, or of the challenges that may present themselves along our way. As for me, the challenges were presented very early in life, which in some way may have helped prepare me for the difficulties ahead. At a year and eight months of age, I became the victim of an automobile hit-and-run. This devastating event left me hospitalized for over six months, recovering from broken bones, scarring, and the amputation of my right thumb. I did not realize it at the time, but this experience taught me how to mentally condition and physically fight for my life as I would need to do later. The experience as a young high energy boy being restrained with traction and casts was difficult. Even as a child I kept my sights on when I would be out of these constraints and able to get back to playing with others. I would have to overcome being different than others now too as I lost my thumb, and would need to stay mentally tough against the sometimes-cruel words children would use around me. All of this helped build my character very early in life.

This book is not meant in any way to be self-promotion but rather a resource for others who may be preparing for their own cancer (or other) military campaign. Through my sixty years of life I have experienced much and have gained enough wisdom on the subject of cancer to give some perspective on survival to others. Now it should be noted that I am not a medical expert. I do understand that each cancer fight is unique to the individual, and there is not a one-size-fits-all prescription for recovery. I have learned much through my own cancer journey and about others with equal cancer challenges.

I have learned through experience that the will of the human spirit, the drive to live, one’s state of mind, and the power of prayer can all be powerful factors that can impact the outcome of our own survival. I have also learned that the forces coming from around us through family, friends, co-workers, and others can affect our state of mind depending upon how we let these things influence us. I have experienced difficult surgical recovery and side effects of radiation and chemotherapy, all of which can take their toll on the cancer patient. Each cancer patient is affected differently by the communications, treatments, surgical recovery, and physical and mental tolls that each may experience. There are the ones who are heavily impacted by devastating news and the input surrounding them. There are some who must have the encouragement and the building of hope by others. There are others who can persevere through the most difficult times, whether physical or mental, and be optimistic about the future despite the cancer challenge that may exist.

Lastly, I have learned from a personal perspective that your own cancer challenge affects others deeply, causing worry and depression, physical side effects, financial burdens, and future uncertainty. It is easy to overlook the impact on others when you are in the midst of your own storms. Be aware of all of those around you who also struggle, even though you are the cancer patient.

My hopes are to connect to those who also have had the devastating news of a cancer diagnosis and to share my thoughts, personal experiences, and testimony for survival in hopes that I will have an impact on the survival of others. If successful in helping even some to survive the cancer journey, then all of my efforts here will have been well worth the experiences I have had and the time it has taken to put this book together for others.

William S. Laird

Destination: Michigan

W e had prepared for this day for months, the long trip to the upper part of the beautiful state of Michigan. Victoria and I had worked together to build a wheelchair and single-person lift for her aging parents. This unique equipment had been thought out well so that its operation was simple and, most of all, safe for these two wonderful people who had been restricted from jointly traveling from their home.

Charlotte and Ronald were both in their eighties. They had enjoyed a lifetime of love, worldwide travel, and five children who were now settled in different near and far locations. Previously, Charlotte had suffered a stroke, and this had restricted most of her time to a wheelchair. The determination of both of Victoria’s parents to be self-sufficient was truly admirable, but as the aging process continued, it created limitations on Ronald’s ability with a wheel chair to physically manipulate the door and stairway to the outside of their home. This made it impossible for them to get to appointments and to do things together beyond their home. Something had to be done, so Victoria and I decided to come up with a solution for them.

We researched the various options we had for base lifts that could be modified for our intended purpose. It did not take too long to find an electric 2,500-pound scissor lift, which had a collapsed low-profile height, proper lift height, and a workable footprint that could be used in her parents’ garage’s stairway location. It was not long before we had the scissor lift delivered, and we undertook the next steps of converting this equipment to a wheelchair and single-person lift that we would feel comfortable leaving behind for her father to operate.

The designing of this equipment was in line with my skills as a material handling solutions provider for manufacturing companies. The same things would apply as with any manufacturer’s solution, meeting the objectives for operation while maintaining safety for operators. I designed the upper part of the lift with an extruded aluminum framing for both sides and aluminum-framed entry doors on both ends. The framing would be covered with clear polycarbonate that would protect her parents from any moving parts or pinch points while in operation.

At first it seemed that the design would be simple, but as I thought through the operation, it became more complex. Charlotte in the wheelchair would always enter the lift equipment first, with Ronald coming on behind and with the responsibility for the lift operation. Door interlocks were considered so that it would not operate if either door was not closed properly. We also had to consider cable-operated door openers so that Ronald could open the lift door on the opposite side of where he would be standing on the lift. On top of all the mechanical and electrical considerations, we additionally had to consider labeling, or providing visual reminders, for every part of the equipment and for its operation for those moments when early stages of dementia impact memory. After thinking it all through, we felt as good about the lift solution as we did about the life-changing impact this equipment would have for Victoria’s elderly parents.

Next, the build. Victoria and I worked on it, and so did others at my work who also wanted to contribute to this charitable cause. Victoria was out of her element during the building process with mechanical things, but with the cause so close to her heart, she wanted to participate with all that she could. She was actually a great help during the build and livened up the experience far beyond what it would have been if I had done it solo. I have fond memories of Victoria dancing on top of the lift with a big smile, as she manipulated it up and down with the hand controller. You could see the joy in her expressions as we made progress.

Within a few weekends, we completed the mechanical build of the lift, and then we completed the controls design and wiring. We now had a fully operational lift and were excited to get it to her parents’ home and provide them with the freedom they needed in their lives. We coordinated the rental of a U-Haul trailer, which we used to transfer the lift equipment from our south-central Kentucky region to the Michigan area where Victoria’s parents resided.

The morning of November 6, 2015, started as intended, even though I had felt a little off that morning. The lift equipment was loaded as planned. We were on our way to Michigan, not knowing what our trip had in store for us. About halfway through the trip, I was experiencing symptoms of a kidney stone. These were familiar to me from a previous experience. I was having some lower back pain along with nausea and the frequent need to urinate, which shortened the more miles we traveled. About twelve hours later we were close to our destination, but I was miserable. We were stopping about every ten miles along the snow-filled roads of northern Michigan so I could relieve myself.

Our arrival was not as planned, due to my condition. Victoria’s parents and other family members were waiting happily to greet us. We explained to all that I was not feeling well and that I would like to lie down for a bit to see if my symptoms would subside. I went to one of the upstairs bedrooms and lay down, hoping that things would improve. I waited about ten minutes before returning to the group downstairs and stated to Victoria that I needed to go to the hospital.

Feeling that this whole situation could end in a hospital stay, I wanted to unload the four-hundred-pound lift into the garage so the trailer could be returned the following day to the U-Haul location as planned. Despite Victoria’s efforts to prevent me from doing this, I aggressively unloaded the lift equipment into the garage and prepared the trailer for its return. All this effort seemed to intensify the pain I was experiencing, creating more urgency in getting to the hospital.

During the ride to the hospital, every bump in the road seemed to intensify the pain I was having. As I vocalized my pain, Victoria sped even faster, making each bump in the road even more intense. I think she set a land-speed record on the way to the hospital that day. The most memorable bumps in the road were the speed bumps at the hospital entrance. I almost felt as if I needed a gurney by the time I got to the hospital, but I walked into the emergency room on my own, taking my position in the line of people there.

It was not long after completing the paperwork that I was taken to one of the emergency patient rooms where an intake of my condition took place. I explained my symptoms to nurses and doctors, who could see that I was experiencing pain. It was not long before pain medication was administered, and I got some relief while the doctors figured out the next steps to identifying the cause of my pain. The time seemed to pass so slowly being medicated, and it felt like it took forever before being sent off to have a CT scan. At that point, I did not care what they did to me as long as they identified what the problem was and kept me medicated so I would not feel so much pain.

I then awaited feedback from the CT scan results. This, too, seemed to take forever, but my concept of time was probably distorted due to the high-powered pain medication I was receiving. I was worn out and sleepy now, given that it was closer to 3:00 a.m. I would drift to sleep from time to time as Victoria stayed at the ready for the doctor’s arrival. Our room door was partially open so she could hear the conversations of the staff when they were close by. At one point while waiting, she heard one doctor say to another, Did you see the results of the man in room 304? The other doctor replied that he had not. The first doctor said to him, Yes, he has a kidney stone, but there is also some type of mass in his appendix. Now that is a bad day. Victoria was a bit disturbed by the conversation and woke me to pass on the information she had heard, mostly to prepare me for some kind of bad news. Even though the news was disturbing, I did not get too rattled over it and waited for a direct conversation with the doctor about the findings.

The wait for the doctor, again, seemed to take forever as my pain-medicated mind raced with the possibilities. Mass? What the hell does that mean? Has my appendix gone bad? Is it a tumor of some type? Well, whatever it is, I will face this as any other event I have faced in my life. A fighting spirit and internal optimism have always been part of my character and are always at the ready when needed. Maybe this will be one of those times. My mind raced with curiosity as I waited with Victoria, but this was beginning to feel like a significant event.

The clock can move very slowly for you in this situation. I can remember lying in the hospital bed watching the clock move. It seemed like the world had gone into slow motion. After getting up early the previous day, driving twelve hours, at least half that time being difficult, meeting the family under physically stressful conditions, unloading the lift, driving to the hospital at supersonic speed, and then hearing of the doctors’ discussion about me, which included That’s a bad day diagnosis, I was worn out. As I looked around, I could see that it was not only me, but also Victoria who was also wearing down as we awaited further information.

I took some time for prayer while waiting. I solemnly prayed for the ability to face whatever was coming my way, for mental and physical strength through to a recovery, and to be able to provide comfort to Victoria, who was also waiting to hear more. I thought about the day a little, and just how differently things had turned out from what had been planned. The old saying No good deed goes unpunished certainly had a whole new and personal meaning to me now. Could this sardonic commentary on the frequency with which acts of kindness backfire on those who offer them be true? If it was, that was okay. It felt great to help others in these circumstances. I would face whatever lay ahead.

You Have Cancer

I don’t think anyone is ever ready to hear the words You have cancer . You may have had family members, friends, co-workers, or others close to you that have had cancer in the past. Many people you know who have had cancer may not be with you today, and the memories of their individual battles are not pleasant. You watched as their bodies and minds were weakened to the point that they lost the fight with cancer. All of what we know and experience from others can have a personal impact on each of us if we are faced with the same cancer challenges. It is how we face these challenges that will have a direct impact on our own survival. It is easy to let cancer defeat you personally, but that is not the only option you have.

The time passed, and the doctor finally came into my room to update us on the findings. His first feedback was on the discovery of a kidney stone. This was not a surprise to me because my symptoms were similar to ones I’d had in the past with another kidney stone. He explained that the kidney stone was lodged in the ureter tube, just prior to the bladder. By this point, I felt like the movement of the stone had caused pain, but it might have settled, as the pain seemed less by this point.

The secondary feedback was to alert me to a mass on my appendix, which might, in the doctors’ words, be adenocarcinoma. I was not fully aware of this terminology at the time, but the doctor did clarify this, saying it was a form of cancer. The doctor also explained that this situation is very rare, and that they would be reaching out to medical centers across the nation to decide on the next steps. It was easy to read the seriousness of the situation as the doctor communicated this information to us. To me personally, this was another bump in the road in the journey of life. I was not going to be overcome with fear but would prepare myself for whatever situation might lie ahead. Having warrior training at a very young age had prepared me for this moment. I was ready to battle for my life, without fear, and with optimism and hope. I could sense the worry and concern that Victoria had with this news, and I understood that how I reacted to it would have a direct impact on how she would cope with things as well. I talked with her about the situation, not showing fear, but with confidence of a good outcome. Of course, at that time, I had no idea of how this would play out, but I always stayed on the positive side of circumstances. That had seemed to help me in the past.

After the news, it was obvious there would be some medical action taken. However, at this point neither we nor the doctors had any idea as to what it would be. I was admitted to the hospital from the emergency room, and we waited as the doctors consulted each other. A few days passed while I was still receiving pain medication. The staff tried to figure out which doctor would be assigned to me, and also what type of procedure might be considered. It became very apparent in a short time that appendix cancer was a rare event, and that there were limited specialists with experience for it across the USA. At this point, I realized that I was one in a million, but not necessarily in the way that I would have hoped.

By day three I had been assigned a doctor, and he had a plan of surgical treatment. He had made it clear that this was an unusual event for him and that there were many unknowns as to what he might see during a surgical procedure. He also updated Victoria and me on the many communications he had with various medical facilities with more expertise on appendiceal cancer and on their recommendations for surgical considerations.

The doctor made it clear that prior to any significant procedure, he would use a scope in multiple locations to assess the cancer spread within the abdomen. He stated that if he found starring on the internal organs, he would discontinue any surgical procedure, close up any incisions, and direct me to go to a cancer center for any specialized treatment they would advise. When you hear this type of reporting from your doctor, it causes you to pay attention more intensely. It also reminds you of some of the relatives lost to cancer over the years. Was it now my turn? A lot of thoughts were racing through my head as I digested all of this new information about my health.

If the initial laparoscopic procedure did not present widespread cancer, then the plan would be for the surgical doctor to proceed with a right hemicolectomy procedure. This would include the removal of the affected appendix, but also six inches of the large and small intestines. The intent here would be to remove the cancerous tumor and some of the surrounding organs, in case any of the cancer cells had migrated to them. In just a short period of time, Victoria and I had taken an advanced biology class and learned far more than we had ever thought we needed to know about the human body.

In addition to an explanation of the right hemicolectomy procedure, we also learned of other treatments that were considered usual for appendix cancer treatment. Hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy (HIPEC) for appendix cancer was one potential option for advanced-stage appendix cancer. Before patients receive HIPEC treatment, doctors perform cytoreductive surgery to remove visible tumors within the abdomen. After the removal of visible cancer, heated chemotherapy is introduced into the abdomen for the purpose of eliminating any rogue cells that may still remain. It’s circulated throughout the abdomen for approximately one and a half hours while staff gently pushes on the abdomen so that the chemo makes its way to every location within the abdominal cavity. This, as horrifying as it sounds, left us understanding the significance of the current situation, and of the possibility of treatment(s) that might lie ahead. The doctor did not hesitate to let me know that the HIPEC surgical option might be required at some point in the future, if the appendix cancer found its way past the appendix and into the abdominal cavity.

So there was much learned and many unknowns at this point. What would the doctors find when performing the initial ’scope? Would the best outcome be that the tumor would be contained to the appendix? What