{"database": "pelican", "table": "content", "rows": [["ryan", "musings", "Content Warning: This is a highly personal post about a cancer diagnosis.\n\nOn Feb 16, 2026 I was 'prepping' for a routine colonoscopy that was scheduled\nfor February 17th at about 1pm. For those of you unaware what is involved in\n'prepping' don't google it, but just know that your Gastroenterologist wants\nthe 'end' of your GI tract 'clean'\n\nThis also involves a lot of not eating. So you can get hangry. Or at least\nmost people do. I had felt something wasn't quite right for a while. Nothing I\ncould really put my finger on, I just didn't feel right. So when it came time\nfor the prep it turned out I wasn't really hungry anyway. I couldn't really\neat the weekend before either, and had been having issues sleeping. I was\nstressed about what my colonoscopy would show. At least subconsciously I was\nworried.\n\nOn the day of my colonoscopy the staff at the office were all really nice. I\neven got a \"First Colonoscopy\" sticker!\n\nI was wheeled into the procedure room, introduced to the doctor and told to\nlook at the wall. The next thing I knew I was being wheeled out to the\nrecovery room. I laid there for a few minutes and then I saw my wife Emily. I\nwas still a bit groggy from the anesthesia but I was _so_ happy to see her. It\nwas the best feeling.\n\nShe came next to the bed I was laying on and the doctor came over. He let\nEmily know that she may want to sit down. She said she preferred to stand. The\ndoctor then told me that during the procedure they found a tumor.\n\nYou have cancer\n\nI let the phrase sink in ... \"You have cancer\" ... \"I have cancer\".\n\nThe doctor was not very comfortable delivering this news. You could tell this\nwasn't the type of thing he was used to doing. Emily even heard him saying \"at\nthe other place I don't have to tell patients this\".\n\nI think he tried his best to be positive about the diagnosis, but honestly it\nwas a pretty shitty delivery. He kept saying things like \"you're young\" (at\nthe time I was 47) ... \"you're good looking\" ... \"you're married\"\n\nI didn't really understand why any of that mattered.\n\nI have cancer\n\nHe then proceeded to let me know that the tumor had likely been there for\nyears, maybe five. Had asked me if I had any symptoms, was there anything that\nfelt off. How could I have not known something was wrong. I have cancer and\nit's my fault I didn't know sooner.\n\nHe also let me know that I'd need to have an ostomoy bag. For the rest of my\nlife.\n\nI have cancer ... that's all I could hear.\n\nI cried. I cried in front of several people that I had never met before. I\ncried in front of my wife.\n\nI have cancer. And I don't know anything about it at this point other than it\nseems like everyone I know with colorectal cancer died from it.\n\nI have cancer.\n\nI'm going to die\n\n... those two phrases kept going through my head\n\nI cried.\n\n> As an aside, I told a friend of mine how my cancer diagnosis was delivered\n> to me. This friend has had many cancer battles / scares during their life. I\n> figured when I told them my story they would say it wasn't so bad. Turns out\n> it was. Even they were like, \"Holy Shit. That's awful!\"\n\nAfter a few minutes, and once Emily and I were a bit more able to see the\nworld, I was wheeled out to our car. We drove home. We didn't say much. What\nis there to even say? I have cancer.\n\nWe got home and although I could eat again, I wasn't hungry. I was afraid I'd\nnever be hungry again.\n\nThat night I couldn't sleep. Or the night after. Or the night after.\n\nThe next day I had a follow up with a different GI doctor. He was basically\nlike, \"There's no new information. Why are you here?\"\n\nBut we had questions. What are the next steps. Who should we contact? What do\nwe do? The one question I didn't dare ask, \"Am I going to die?\"\n\nFor the next 16 days I lived in the grayest of gray areas. I could barely\nsleep, or eat. I lost about 8 pounds.\n\nEmily and I spent time working to make sure that all of our affairs were in\norder. Are all of the banking apps installed on your phone? Do you have all of\nthe passwords? Does the car title need to be updated? The title for the house?\nHow do we do our finances?\n\nWe make a good team in that we each have our 'assignments'. We're pretty\nautonomous in those assignments. We'd talked about \"cross training\" on some of\nthem, especially the financial stuff, but there just never seemed to be the\ntime.\n\nAnd now it felt like we didn't have the time but were going to have to make\nit. I felt like I was writing transition docs for leaving a job. But in this\ncase I was afraid of the job I might be leaving.\n\nTo use any other word than `brutal` to describe these days wouldn't do justice\nto the way we felt. And even then it doesn't really begin to cover it.\n\nDuring that time we told a few people. A very few people. Telling people made\nit real. Telling people was like delivering a trauma to them. Telling people\nled to questions. Questions we didn't have the answer for. Brutal.\n\nI had nights where I would cry. Especially if I was alone. I have cancer, but\nthere were things that still needed to happen. Emily had a major work event\nthat she was responsible for. She had coworkers and friends she was able to\nrely on, but that didn't mean she didn't have to do things. Away from home.\nAway from me.\n\nMy Aunt had the same cancer diagnosis I do and she was helpful and caring and\nloving and kind and all of the things you need from a family member. But she\ndidn't know the future. She didn't know if I was going to die. And so when the\nwords, \"You're going to be fine\" came from her, they were nice, but hollow. I\nhave cancer. I might die. I am scared.\n\nOn March 5th I met with a surgeon. Before meeting with the surgeon I needed to\nhave an Abdominal CT scan done. It was completed about a week before I met\nwith the surgeon. I had the results 2 days before meeting with the surgeon. I\ncouldn't look at them. I didn't want to look at them.\n\nThe day of the surgery consult came. He was going to tell me the next steps.\nFrom what I heard surgery was likely to be my next step. My wife and I went to\nthe appointment, she's been going to all of my appointments with me.\n\nThe staff were so nice and friendly and helpful. I started in one exam room\nand was moved to another exam room. My first thought was, \"Oh no, was I in the\n'you're going to be fine room' and got moved to the 'You're going to die'\nroom? But the nurse let me know the reason for the move. A simple reason. No\nbig deal. Except it was. It was the biggest deal. But she took the time to let\nme know the `why` of the move.\n\nI went through the exam. Emily came back so the surgeon could talk to us.\n\nAll of the fear, and horrible anticipation. What ever he said next we were\ngoing to work through it. We were going to figure it out.\n\nAt the end of all of this, \"we\" might end up being just \"she\".\n\nAnd the doctor said ...\n\nIt's actually not bad. We seem to have caught it early. We'll want to do chemo\nand radiation before reevaluating surgery.\n\nI cried. This time I cried because it was the first hope I'd had in almost 3\nweeks. I cried because my birthday was in 2 days and I had friends I was going\nto hang out with and it will be an actual happy party and not a pre wake\nparty.\n\nSince the surgeon I've seen a few more doctors. An oncologist and a radiation\noncologist. Each appointment was mostly what one might expect. A brief\nconversation about potential side effects of the treatment. Which are pretty\nhorrific if you think about them for too long. I try not to.\n\nMy treatment will be 5 days a week for 5 1/2 weeks of radiation and\nchemotherapy. Reevaluation of the tumor for potential surgery 6 - 12 weeks\nafter that.\n\nI'm sleeping better, but still not great. I eating better, but still not a\nton.\n\nAnd then ... for a few weeks ... nothing. Paper work is getting processed and\nI'm waiting for an MRI. The important part about the MRI is that it will tell\nme what stage and grade my tumor is. Once that's completed and the results are\nread then all of the doctors will have what they need to allow me to\nofficially begin my treatment.\n\nThat being said, I have a tentative start date for my treatment. Unless my MRI\nshows something unexpected, I'll start my radiation and chemotherapy\ntreatments on April 13. Officially. Fifty Five days from when I was told I had\ncancer to start of treatment. I'm not sure if this is a long time or not. It\nfelt like a long time. A really long fucking time.\n\nAs part of the treatment you go in for a prep session. During this session\nthey fit you for the device that blasts your tumor with radiation. In my case\nthey also gave me 3 tattoos. One on either side and one right below my belly\nbutton.\n\nI always thought my first tattoo would be of something way cooler \ud83e\udd37\ud83c\udffb\u200d\u2642\ufe0f\n\nBefore my diagnosis I had some plans for this year. I was going to go to\n[PyCon US](https://us.pycon.org/2026/),\n[PyOhio](https://www.pyohio.org/2026/), and [DjangoCon\nUS](https://2026.djangocon.us/). I even toyed with the idea of going to [North\nBay Python](https://pretix.northbaypython.org/nbpy/nbpy-2026/).\n\nI won't be able to do any of these. Although my treatment will be done by late\nMay, I'm not sure I can commit to much travel. I'm not sure how I'll be\nfeeling.\n\nAlso, anywhere from 6 - 12 weeks after the end of my treatment I get re-\nevaluated for surgery. If the tumor is gone and the various docs feel like\nthere's no risk, then surgery might not be required. If there is a risk, then\nsurgery will be required.\n\nThe outcome of the surgery will be a colostomy bag that is either temporary\n(about 6 months) or permanent.\n\nI'm less than 2 months into my cancer journey and there's still so much I\ndon't know. Still so much that just can't be known. And honestly that's the\nhardest part.\n\nMy prognosis is good. My family and I are optimistic. But there's still so\nmuch we can't know. We hope that this will be a 'blip' and that by 2027 or\n2028 we can go back to what ever normal is. But we just can't know.\n\nOne of the things I've really focused on over the last 2 months is trying to\nfind the good things. I saw someone post on Mastodon (sorry, I can't find the\noriginal toot) about finding what they called glimmers. Those small things\nthat make you happy.\n\nI try to do that every day. A song I haven't heard in a long time. A friendly\nface while I'm out and about. A text from a person I haven't heard from in a\nwhile. Going for a swim. These are all things that I was taking for granted. I\nwill likely end up taking them for granted again. But for now, I am really\ntrying to be more appreciative of them. I'm trying to be more present.\n\nAnyway, for those of you out there in that are 45+ and haven't gotten a\ncolonoscopy. You should. We seem to have caught this early in the process. My\nprognosis is good. If someone hadn't told me I had cancer I would mostly have\nno idea.\n\n", "2026-04-06", "a-giant-pain-in-the-ass", "Content Warning: This is a highly personal post about a cancer diagnosis.\n\nOn Feb 16, 2026 I was 'prepping' for a routine colonoscopy that was scheduled\nfor February 17th at about 1pm. For those of you unaware what is involved in\n'prepping' don't google it, but just know that your \u2026\n\n", "A Giant Pain in the Ass", "https://www.ryancheley.com/2026/04/06/a-giant-pain-in-the-ass/"]], "columns": ["author", "category", "content", "published_date", "slug", "summary", "title", "url"], "primary_keys": ["slug"], "primary_key_values": ["a-giant-pain-in-the-ass"], "units": {}, "query_ms": 0.8145631290972233}