If Blue Sca-doo...

In 2008, it was estimated that the United States Population was approximately 303,824,640 people. In 2008 it is estimated that 1,437,180 people were newly diagnosed with cancer and 565,650 people dies from cancer. That is a total of 2,002,830 people, roughly 0.659%.

The global population is estimated at 6,706,993,152 people. It is reported that 12 million people were diagnosed with new cancer cases and 7.6 million poeple died of cancer related deaths. That is a total of 19.6 million people across the globe, roughly 0.292%.

In 2006 the U.S. population was about 299.1 million people. 21,000 Americans were projected to be diagnosed with stomach cancer. That's about 0.007021% of the population. The average age at the time of a diagnosis of stomach cancer is 71. Approximately two-thirds of ALL people with stomach cancer are older than 65. About 5% of patients are younger than 35 years old and only 1% of stomach cancer patients are younger than 30.

1% of 21,000 people: 210. I was one of an estimated 210 people that in 2006 would be under 30 years old and diagnosed with stomach cancer. 210 out of 299.1 million is .00007021%. 1,424,286 to 1. Rare company indeed. There are better chances for the following to occur: dating a supermodel (88,000 to 1), the Detroit Lions winning Super Bowl XLIII (10,000 to 1 - assessed at the beginning of the season), winning an Olympic medal (662,000 to 1), and drowning in a bathtub (685,000 to 1).

And the staging process, how does that work? Stage I, II, etc. what does it all mean? Well each cancer stages differently. For stomach cancer there are many stages: Ia, Ib, II, IIIa, IIIb, VI. Staging is determined using the TMN system, where T explains the the extent of the cancer's penetration through the stomach wall (Tis-T4), N explains the number of lymph nodes that the cancer has spread to (N0-N3), and M is the presence of metastases to distant organs (spreading to other organs [M0-M1]). At my diagnosis I was considered a T4N1M1. A multi-problematic stage IV.

Oncologists and medical personnel in the cancer field determine success based on a statistical system known as the 5-Year Survival Rate. That is, if you are able to maintain a good quality of life for at least five years after the date of your diagnosis, you are considered a successful patient. The 5-year survival rates for the respective stages of stomach cancer are as follows:

Stage Ia/Ib - 88%
Stage II - 65%
Stage IIIa/IIIb -35%
Stage IV - less than 5%

My treatments started in August of 2006. It would be Monday and Wednesday every other week. My doctor and my family thought I should take a year off from college. I figured that I would live as close to the same life as I possibly could. So I attended class. I stacked my classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Treatment weeks I would have treatment on Monday, classes on Tuesday, treatment on Wednesday, and classes on Thursday. I did take some extra days off. I graduated on time in May of 2007. What a headache!

Actually, the headache came in March of 2008. After 11 months straight of chemotherapy, I was given the summer off of treatment to recover. Treatment started again in October and continued through March of 2008. In the beginning of the month I started getting some headaches. Mild, though. By the end of the month the headaches culminated in one intense migraine. It got so bad that on Friday March 28th I was unable to function properly and went to the hospital for evaluation. I was told I had compound migraines caused by the new chemotherapy drugs I was on.

So imagine my surprise when subsequent CT-scans and MRIs revealed a malignant tumor in my right frontal lobe about 3.5cm squared, or roughly the size of a golf ball. Since we are talking about percentages: less than 5% of ALL stomach cancer patients will EVER have metastasis to the brain. Better and better, right. I'm already in the 1% of all stomach cancer patients, on top of that I have Stage IV with a 5% 5-year survival rate, and now I get another medical improbability on the plate. Immediate surgery was necessary, and on April 1st (April Fool's Day - how fitting) I had the tumor excised.

When I had recovered, I stopped my chemotherapy treatments for a while and began my radiation therapy, which took place over 2 weeks. Then I immediately restarted chemotherapy returning to a more physically demanding regimen. In the recovery time after the surgery, however, the cancer spread to my peritoneum and to the outside of the bladdar.

Millions of years of evolution and we still don't know a damn thing about anything (at least not officially). There are things we can "know" within ourselves. I want to share something that somebody said once. And I hope one of my friends recognizes this and remembers what it meant, and I hope you read it and realize that it not only applies to me or cancer patients or any particular person, place, or thing; but rather, it applies to whatever we choose to apply it towards:
"Now things in your life have changed ALOT, but you can get through this and anything else. You are not a victim. You are not a statistic. You are an anomaly. A rare, and therefore, special culmination of particular symptoms that have converged on one place at one time. And because you are an anomaly, you are capable of acheiving anything." - Anonymous

...we can, too.