The first couple of weeks after they discovered cancer in the surgery has been a whirlwind. It’s been a seemingly endless series of physical, emotional and psychological testing. Here are some of key tests/moments.

Post-Surgery Recovery

When I first got home from surgery, my neck and face looked beat up. There seemed to be a large portion of my neck missing. There was a big part of me that simply repeated the truth that it doesn’t matter and there is no need to worry about what other’s think. Yet there was a small part of me that saying “you’re ugly”. The larger voice towers over that tiny voice, but that tiny voice won a couple of times, especially in the first couple of days.

Sue drove me to a nursing appointment on the second day home and afterwards we stopped by Walmart to pick up our pre-ordered groceries. When the person came around to the Sue’s side of the car to discuss the order, without thinking I flipped up the left collar of my coat. That little voice triggered an action to cover my face from view. I realized very quickly how unnecessary that flip of the collar was, but I also realized that I needed to be on guard better for new impulsive actions or thoughts. I let the louder, wiser voice scold the tiny, misbehaving voice!

The modified normalcy of my outward appearance is much easier to bare. Over the first 2 weeks the incisions are getting less noticeable and drains were removed. I have a nerve that is not working properly on the left side of my face. It’s similar to partial paralysis of the side of my face, but it will come back over the next few months.

On the surface of my face and inside my neck, the nerves are a mess. The surface of my face below my left jaw has little or no feeling. This may never come back and it doesn’t really matter. The only risk I see is that Sue could secretly give me a piercing of some sort in that area and I wouldn’t even know (not really a big risk!).

The nerves a little deeper are having unwelcome parties. Some numbness wears off, revealing new pain points previously masked. Twitches and spikes of electricity in the neck. Apparently this is the normal cycle of the healing process. Another normal aspect, but the one I like least, is the tightness and pain in my jaw and throat. This occurs more pronounced when I am eating. I cannot open my mouth too wide and chewing is a challenge, but it’s needed even more because swallowing is no fun. It takes me twice as long to eat half as much. This will get better as well. The bright light is that I am losing weight from this diet (although it is not really a diet I can market!)

Then, as a form of biological mockery, my body decided to welcome an infection around the locations where the drains entered my neck. With better “wound care” and some ballistic penicillin, it is coming under control.

What Was Discovered

I had my follow-up appointment with the ENT surgeon, Dr. Jackson, 12 days after the surgery. I have tried to be very optimistic throughout these initial stages with cancer, but there are moments or events that test the resilience of my optimism. The hours leading up to this meeting were filled with such tests. “I know it is probably just this, but what if… ?” Versions of that question filled any momentary blank spaces in my mind leading up to the appointment.

Sue met me at the hospital to go to the appointment. Dr. Jackson likes to be thorough with his patients, so I knew we would be delayed a bit. Chatting with Sue helped fill my mind while waiting, not allowing the negative “what if” questions to sneak in.

Dr. Jackson came into the room. He read me the medical bing-bing about what was going on in my neck, then he translated it for me. The cancer in my lymph nodes didn’t start there, so it is not lymphoma. They took tissue samples of my tongue and other areas in my neck and none of them came back showing cancer. The tricky part is that he could not tell what the origin of the cancer was, and they may never know.

This diagnosis was confirmed during my initial visit to the cancer clinic a couple of days later. They will be doing a PET scan and a CT scan over the next weeks to fine-tune the diagnosis before they present a treatment plan.

As will be the case on this journey, a few questions were answered, but the answers themselves triggered more questions.

Returning to Work

I am fortunate to have a job that I truly love doing and with people I like working with. My surgery was on a Friday and I was back in the office the following Wednesday. Some people at the office had questions, which I gladly talked about. I knew that I had 2 jobs with the “holy shit, what happened to him” reactions people might have. Job 1: Show that it doesn’t matter to me and that this temporary look will pass. Job 2: Make sure other people were comfortable to approach me and interact with me. I am glad to say I nailed both jobs!

I found out a week later that a couple of people were concerned about my skin tone when I first got back, but that got better.

Some folks questioned whether I was getting back to work too soon. My bosses are very supportive and they reminded that I need to make sure that I look after myself. I took the concerns of others into consideration, and I still felt it was right to go back to work on that Wednesday.

It turns out that I went back at just the right time. I was certainly mentally sharp enough to get back into it. It was physically, emotionally and mentally therapeutic to get back to work. I didn’t want atrophy in any of those areas to slide in.

Tired Much Quicker

One thing that is fairly constant is that hit points of fatigue more quickly and more often than before. I want to keep doing some stuff – work, going to stores and moving around – but then I hit some weird fatigue wall that I am not accustomed to. My mom and Sue both tell me to slow down and relax, but I don’t think I am doing too much (or I enjoy the hen-pecking of my wife and mother!).

There have been nights over the past 2 weeks when I go to bed before 8:00pm. I cannot recall going to bed that early over the past 25 years! The following mornings I wake up feeling wonderfully rested to take on the new day.

I am still finding that right balance between doing too much and doing enough to help the recovery process. I know this is tied to my body working overtime on a cellular level so I am confident this will get better as well.

Connecting With Others

Sometimes Facebook simply sucks. Sorry Mark, it is the truth. Meaningless advertisements that clutter the screen. Friend requests from scantily-dressed strangers with questionable motives. Easier access to info for criminals. Etc.

But – sometimes Facebook is simply brilliant. For example, using it as a means to share my journey with cancer. The outpouring of support has been powerful and very uplifting. It has come from coast-to-coast, literally. It has come from friends and family I see regularly and some I haven’t seen for years.

People have opened up about their own journeys – for themselves or for loved ones. Some have started prayer lines at their churches for further support. Tears were in my eyes frequently as I read the responses.

The result of these connections and responses is a layer of strength. Every message of encouragement and support gets quilted together with the others to form a warm blanket providing just the right comfort at just the right time.

In some ways, we are one big community. We hurt together, then we mend and heal together.

In the Right Direction

Although there are a couple of tests yet to do, I am optimistic that I am on the upward path of recovery. The feedback from the doctors help to make my optimism less naive. Even though it is an upward direction, the path itself is wavy. A moment today may seem lower than a particular moment from yesterday. Conversely, a low moment from yesterday can be splendidly drowned out by a peak today. But overall, the direction is up!

I thank each of you who have called, sent texts, wrote messages and replied to this story. I cannot adequately put into words how important your support means and how much it helps.

Thank you.