Lets get things started...

When you get cancer, one of the first important steps is to start a blog.

I'm all around a fairly average guy.  I work in an Emergency Department, have a great wife, and am seriously mediocre at most of my recreational pursuits.  Up to this point in my life I've not stumbled into too many situations that seemed worthy of documenting.  This all started to change a little while back.

A few months ago I went to Uganda for work, came home with some strange abdominal pain that I chalked up to consumption of scary African meat, and after a few weeks ended up having one of my Emergency Medicine counterparts check me in to our department for a CT scan.

The scan showed something strange lurking in my pelvis, which triggered a few weeks of appointments, failed attempts at a biopsy and plenty of reassurance that "this is probably nothing bad."

10 days ago I shuffled out the door around five braced against the 14 degree chill
of a Maine spring morning.  Nine hours later I walk 100' from my department to the outpatient surgery unit for  an IV and a steady stream of  paperwork.
 Two hours, a few whiffs of anesthetic, and multiple doses of narcotics later I wake up with cancer.

My first drug tinged  memory is of looking at Erin, who is clutching a glossy
print of my insides. “It’s not good news, but it’s not horrible.”
Sometime in the recent past my appendix developed a
cancer…grew…burst…and then spread all over
my peritoneum.

My presumptive diagnosis is: appendicial neoplasm with pseudomyoxa peritonei.  Essentially I have a primary cancer from somewhere, likely my appendix.  This primary cancer has seeded my peritoneum with cells that produce mucus, which then all accumulates in my pelvis...its not actually as exciting or interesting as it may sound.

My surgeon, who has been remarkable, assures me that in her world of nasty cancers this type is a "nuisance."  While that may be a bit of an understatement it does appear to be treatable and under the best of circumstances curable.

The next step is a big ol' operation.  They put you to sleep, cut out "anything with cancer on it that you don't need." and then fill your abdomen with heated chemotherapy.  Then for the next few hours some unlucky intern has to shake you back and forth on the operating room table in a process they refer to as "shake and bake"

I'm off to the operating room bright and early tomorrow morning.  The surgery should take a few hours, followed by chemo and then a decent stay in the hospital.  The surgeon told me that if I am "tough" then I won't have to stay more than a week, so I'm planning on a solid month.

I'm writing this down for two main reasons.

1.  Its hard to find real nuts and bolts information on what this whole process is actually like.  Despite hours of searching I can't find anyone who can tell me what to actually expect in the hours to weeks after surgery.

2. It has been a surreal process becoming a patient in my own hospital.  I imagine the next few weeks will be fairly educational.

I'm attaching a picture from the "handbook" for my surgery.  I find this flat chested "female" to be strangely inspirational.

More to come from the hospital...