About

In August, 2007 Morley was diagnosed with a very large tumor that extends from the lower part of his large colon into his rectum.   A respected surgeon here in Atlanta attempted to remove it, but just twenty minutes into the operation he called it off because the tumor was so large. In the recovery room the surgeon delivered the bad news that our only option was to undergo another much more serious surgery, one that would require an extended hospitalization and a four month recovery time.  And most alarming of all, the surgeon assured us that a permanent colostomy was almost a dead certainty. 

Our search for a second opinion and an alternative to a permanent colostomy has led us to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota and that’s where this blog comes in to play.  The Mayo provides a carepage site for each patient to use in updating friends and family;  I thought it was a great idea but rather than setting up a blog on the Mayo’s service I began a plain, ordinary blog here.  

Thus, a new blog was born. 

 

UPDATE:  We no longer maintain this blog since our tumor saga has ended but we leave it here in case someone else walking in the same shoes  finds it helpful.  Or in case someone needs a few good butt jokes, in which case our friends’ comments to the various posts will provide you with an abundance of material. 

However, if you’ve come here looking for guidance or advice in dealing with colon tumors, or God forbid colon cancer, the best advice we can give you is this:  DON’T ACCEPT ONE DOCTOR’S OPINION IF IT DOESNT’ SEEM LOGICAL AND APPROPRIATE TO YOU. 

In our case we refused to accept our doctor’s opinion that a permanent colostomy was unavoidable. Since not one of the several biopsies had shown evidence of cancer, a permanent colostomy simply didn’t sound logical and appropriate to us.  But the doctor dismissed our questions and became increasingly impatient with us.  On a final visit just days before the scheduled surgery when we again questioned if a permanent colostomy was the only treatment available, he suggested we stop trying to do his job and work on accepting our reality–or, our reality as he decided it was going to be. 

So we got proactive.  We asked a lot of questions.  We started being the boss over our own health care and we didn’t stop pushing until we found doctors who didn’t dismiss our concerns and kept open minds.  As it turned out, those doctors work at the Mayo Clinic and we came away with an outcome that was much less severe than the one presented as our “only” option.  

In the end we had two treatment options to choose from: (1) Outpatient surgery at the Mayo Clinic to remove the tumor, followed by a day off work to recoup, or (2) Major surgery to perform a permanent colostomy, a hospital stay of  ten days and four months off work  (SPOILER:  we took the outpatient option).  And the only reason we had choices was because we didn’t take the first guy’s opinion as the gospel. 

So please:  take charge of your own destiny and health care and you’ll be better for it.  In our case, it saved my husband’s ass,  so to speak.

Yes, there is life after rectal tumors.  Lots of life, actually, and there’s an ‘after tumor’ blog as well.  Our current blog  can be mind dullingly boring unexciting at times, but if you just finished reading this blog about rectal tumors by comparison you’ll find it riveting entertainment.  And be sure to tell us ‘mega tumor’ sent you.  You’ll find the new blog here:  our 100% tumor free ordinary life blog 

Love,
Susan and Morley