I Have Cancer

Unfortunately there’s no cute or fun way to make this announcement. It just wouldn’t be right to fill a balloon with all the different types of cancers, then film me as I pop it to reveal what type I have. Maybe a separate balloon would then reveal the stage. No, that wouldn’t work. Nobody wants to hear that C word.

There’s really never a “good” time to tell people you have cancer because this is pretty depressing news. Trust me, I had to think alot about this as I called my family and closest friends just before Christmas to let them know. I hesitated each time I went to hit the call button;  

“Now’s a bad time.” 

“It’s Christmas, I should probably wait until after the holidays.”  

“They’re on vacation, I really don’t want to put a damper on their trip.” 

“They’re probably having breakfast/lunch/dinner/sleeping/sitting/driving/anything right now so I shouldn’t bother them.”  

Then, I imagined that if any one of them got the diagnosis that I received, I would want to know no matter the time, day or place.  As is my nature, I was getting ready to apologize to those that I didn’t tell directly, but I’m not going to do that.  I tend to avoid difficult conversations so telling this story has been exceptionally hard. Even writing this post to put out to the world has been tough. I know you’ll understand.

When symptoms began…

While on an amazing vacation to Colombia with my husband Chris, to celebrate his 50th birthday, I started to have the most intense abdominal cramping. It began on 12/7/22 and it literally had me crippled over in pain.  Chris eventually convinced me to go into a drug store to get something over the counter.  With my subpar Spanish and lots of hand gestures mimicking squeezing my guts, I got what I hoped were meds for my cramps.  I took these for about 3 days and they did help.  At least I thought they did, but it could have been a combo of a placebo effect and me trying really hard to will myself better since we still had about 5 days left of vacation.

I hung in there but things got worse. Now, if you’ve ever traveled internationally, you know that gut issues are fairly common. I’ve had my share of World War III occurring in my belly while sitting on the toilet, most likely from some type of water contamination, but this time was different.  I realized that I had been constipated since before the cramping started, and since nothing was coming out, my stomach became very distended and tender.  My eating pretty much stopped and I became nauseous.  But again, I hung in there and we flew home on Thursday 12/15/22 on the worst flight of my life thanks to delays, turbulence, cramps and trying to vomit in a plane bathroom.  So bad.  We almost went to the ER when we got home at midnight, but after 16 days of travel, I just wanted to sleep in my own bed.  

The Worst Day of My Life

The next day, Friday 12/16/22, Chris dropped me off at the Emergency Room around 12:30 pm.  We knew that ER waits can be ridiculous so we agreed that he’d do our regular grocery shopping while I got treatment and then come get me in a couple hours.  Little did we know what was to come.

After all the usual questions, screenings, family history and physical assessment, the attending physician ordered a CT Scan on my abdomen.  Around 3:30pm when he returned, he asked if I had family with me.  Chris was literally minutes away and I should have known something was wrong by the seriousness in the doctor’s tone.  He then described that the scan showed a large mass in my rectum that was blocking the path for stool to be excreted.  Because of this, my colon was extremely swollen and there were concerns of a rupture.  He then shared that the mass had all the characteristics of being a cancerous tumor. They also found numerous lesions on my liver and a few smaller lesions on my lungs suggesting the cancerous cells had spread.  I was still in so much pain, and now in shock and disbelief, that I’m not sure it fully registered.  When Chris walked in a few minutes after the doctor left my room, I immediately blurted out, “I have cancer” before he could say hi.  Not surprisingly, he was in as much disbelief and shock as I was and immediately started questioning everything. That was the first moment, in what has become an almost daily thing, of us sharing tears together over this diagnosis.

Over the course of the next several hours numerous doctors, residents, nurses, surgeons came in to see me to make sure I understood what was going on.  Everyone was truly fantastic showing me care and compassion given this unexpected news but also being realistic about the diagnosis, the treatment plan and the difficult road ahead.  All of them agreed that while no official biopsy had been done yet, the scans showed enough evidence of colorectal cancer that had metastasized to my liver.  Later, the biopsies would confirm that I have Invasive Moderately Differentiated Metastatic Adenocarcinoma of the Colon.  In real speak, this is Stage IV Colorectal Cancer that has spread to my liver and lungs.

As if that diagnosis wasn’t traumatic enough, next came the pressing matter of my swollen colon and treating it before it ruptured.  In an effort to avoid surgery, I underwent a procedure to insert a catheter to try to bypass the tumor, decompress the colon and implant a stent in my rectum so that I could excrete the backed up stool.  However, this was unsuccessful because in the doctor’s words, the tumor was “too angry” to let them get by.  After waking up from anesthesia, they let me know the procedure was unsuccessful and then prepped me for Plan B. Just before midnight, I went into emergency surgery and came out with a Colostomy bag attached to my abdomen.  I won’t share the details on that now, but that alone has been a difficult, life-altering adjustment.  

To recap, within a matter of 12 hours, and less than 24 hours from returning from vacation, my life got turned upside down. I was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer, was intubated and put under anesthesia twice, had emergency surgery, had IV’s running in both arms and was pooping out my belly.  Honestly, I still struggle to believe it’s true and wish I’d wake up from this horrible nightmare.  But, the reality is that I Have Cancer.  

Yes, this is devastating news but please know that I’m gonna do everything in my power to fight this thing and beat the stats.  I’m a 44 years young, fit, active, healthy, strong woman who is extremely resistant and doesn’t give up easily.  I’m so grateful to have the best partner in the world by my side along with amazing family, friends and an extended support network. One thing that I’ve realized already is that I can’t go through this alone.  I’ll need all of you to help me (and Chris) keep spirits high and to offer support.  And yes, I’ll take all the thoughts, prayers, virtual hugs, real hugs, heart emojis, cat/puppy/goat videos and such, so please send them ALL my way!

Don’t worry if you don’t know what to say.  You’re not alone.  There really is nothing to say and that’s absolutely ok. Well, actually the 2 things that I’ve found most comforting are: “I Love You” and “What the Fuck?” 😇. If you’re the type that wants to send us some food or treats, I really appreciate the gesture but kindly ask that you hold off.  While some oncologists tell patients to eat whatever they want during treatment, I’m taking a much more intentional approach with my diet and do not want to be tempted by food that won’t contribute to my healing.  Again, I know you’ll understand.

For those that want to help, first thank you.  An amazing friend has started a Go Fund Me page to help offset all of the medical costs that have already started to accumulate.  I’ll also go into more details on that in a future post but if you’d like to help support me and Chris, the link is below.  

Help Jess Fox Fight Stage IV Cancer

My goal is to use this platform to share my journey.  I’ll fill in more of the gaps and talk about my treatment options and plan in the coming posts.  And while this information is sad by nature, I promise there are and will be more bright spots along the way.  I am no longer in pain and I’m out of the hospital.  I get to sleep in my own bed with Chris by my side and my dog Molly, who happens to be an excellent nursing assistant, never out of sight.  I’m fully recovered from surgery and have even started working out again.  I have an excellent care team that I feel like I can trust.  And finally, I know I have all of you rooting me on.

Thanks for reading until the end.  I welcome any love and support in the comments.