Ro's birthday
Good morning everyone, Drake (The Crusader) here,
Today would have been Ro's 56th birthday. Happy birthday, beloved.
Fifty-five is far too young to die. Even if you're still lucky enough to be one of those snot-nosed kids who thinks turning 40 makes you old, keep in mind that Ro's mother lived to almost 80. That's *twenty-five* years that Ro's genetics could have kept her alive for, and maybe even longer, given that her mother died from a long battle with emphasema, and not old age. Ro's heart was strong, her blood pressure fantastic, her cholesterol good; by all rights she should still be chugging along full steam. Even more staggering is the fact that Ro was diagnosed with cancer shortly after her *49th birthday*. If that isn't a sobering thought for most of us out there, I don't know what is.
Could she have done anything to prevent the cancer from happening? Probably not.
Could she have done anything to improve her chances of survival? ABSOLUTELY.
Ro's cancer originally presented itself as a tumor on the inside of her lower intestine, in the area of the colon. By the time it was discovered, it had grown large enough to completely block her colon, and more importantly, had expanded to her lymphatic system, greatly increasing the odds that it would metasticize, which it ultimately did. That tumor did not get there overnight; it had been growing and forming over the course of *years*, with Ro none the wiser.
If Ro only had scheduled regular yearly colonoscopies, recommended for *anyone* over the age of 40, she could have:
- spared herself from six years of chemotherapy and radiation and all the painful side effects and discomfort that came with it. And believe me when I say that it was a lot worse for her than she let on to *anyone*, except for me.
- spared herself from over two dozen surgeries and three dozen hospital stays overall.
- lived another 2 to 3 *decades* in the company of her friends, family, and loving husband.
But she didn't. She was uncomfortable with the idea of someone sticking anything in her behind, despite the fact that the procedure is painless and she would have been sedated the entire time. Too embarrassing. Too invasive. Well let me tell you, not a day went by over those six years that neither she, nor I, regretted not doing that simple 30 minute screening once a year. I'm just as much to blame. I knew the risks, I knew she should be doing it, but I never forced the issue because I figured it would never happen to her. Now I have to live with that, and without her, for the rest of my life.
Please...don't let my wife's death be in vain. Learn from her tragedy, and get yourself screened for colon cancer if you're over 40. Your loved ones will thank you for it.
-Drake
Today would have been Ro's 56th birthday. Happy birthday, beloved.
Fifty-five is far too young to die. Even if you're still lucky enough to be one of those snot-nosed kids who thinks turning 40 makes you old, keep in mind that Ro's mother lived to almost 80. That's *twenty-five* years that Ro's genetics could have kept her alive for, and maybe even longer, given that her mother died from a long battle with emphasema, and not old age. Ro's heart was strong, her blood pressure fantastic, her cholesterol good; by all rights she should still be chugging along full steam. Even more staggering is the fact that Ro was diagnosed with cancer shortly after her *49th birthday*. If that isn't a sobering thought for most of us out there, I don't know what is.
Could she have done anything to prevent the cancer from happening? Probably not.
Could she have done anything to improve her chances of survival? ABSOLUTELY.
Ro's cancer originally presented itself as a tumor on the inside of her lower intestine, in the area of the colon. By the time it was discovered, it had grown large enough to completely block her colon, and more importantly, had expanded to her lymphatic system, greatly increasing the odds that it would metasticize, which it ultimately did. That tumor did not get there overnight; it had been growing and forming over the course of *years*, with Ro none the wiser.
If Ro only had scheduled regular yearly colonoscopies, recommended for *anyone* over the age of 40, she could have:
- spared herself from six years of chemotherapy and radiation and all the painful side effects and discomfort that came with it. And believe me when I say that it was a lot worse for her than she let on to *anyone*, except for me.
- spared herself from over two dozen surgeries and three dozen hospital stays overall.
- lived another 2 to 3 *decades* in the company of her friends, family, and loving husband.
But she didn't. She was uncomfortable with the idea of someone sticking anything in her behind, despite the fact that the procedure is painless and she would have been sedated the entire time. Too embarrassing. Too invasive. Well let me tell you, not a day went by over those six years that neither she, nor I, regretted not doing that simple 30 minute screening once a year. I'm just as much to blame. I knew the risks, I knew she should be doing it, but I never forced the issue because I figured it would never happen to her. Now I have to live with that, and without her, for the rest of my life.
Please...don't let my wife's death be in vain. Learn from her tragedy, and get yourself screened for colon cancer if you're over 40. Your loved ones will thank you for it.
-Drake