Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Speechless

My baby brother called me last night, of his own accord. That right there was enough to stun me mute. But then he said this:

"Turns out I have testicular cancer."

The offending tumor has been given the ax, and Brother's entire groin region has received a stern talking to. Now we wait for some test results to determine whether chemo and/or radiation are in the boy's future.

His oncologist, by the way? Turns out Brother managed to hook himself up with Lance Armstrong's oncologist. I'm thinking this means two things:
  1. Brother is in good hands.
  2. I'm going to have to wear one of those damned plastic yellow bracelets.
My brother is taking everything in stride, as he usually does, and the doctors are optimistic. I'm still reeling and am busying myself with a fair amount of staring off into space, hoping that that spot on the wall can explain to me how this could happen to my little baby brother.

2 comments:

jacque said...

Ay yi yi. That's a bit of a raw deal. Tell your brother I'm sending some positive thoughts his way.

Ann said...

My brother is a testicular cancer survivor. He had to have one testicle removed and go through radiation because the cancer had spread to some lymph nodes in his back. It's been almost five years now and he's still doing great. All the plumbing is in working order. He and his wife were able to have another child since then.

Hopefully they found your brother's cancer at an early stage. It's awesome news that he has a great doctor!

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