Just need to vent

After going through trouble swallowing back in 2022 I was diagnosed with stage 3 esophageal adenocarcinoma. Went through FLOT all pre-surgery and while it sucked my side effects were manageable to the point where steroids and eating made me put on weight. The trouble swallowing went away almost immediately after the first week of treatment. After FLOT had my minimally invasive esophagectomy early 2023 and after a recovery period was able to return to a mostly normal life with the exception of my former fat self never being able to eat to the point of feeling full - still think that was vagus related.

Side effects were minimal compared to some of the stories I’ve read or been relayed on most of these cancer boards. I’ve been hesitant to join or get involved because I don’t necessarily think it’s fair that it’s been a cakewalk for me and not for others. I’ve seen enough better people than me lose the “struggle” in the chemo room. I have never wanted to be the guy where everything is wonderful and everyone else has had it worse for no explainable reason. Sometimes life just sucks and there is no magical reason. Good people die, good people live, bad people live, bad people die, but we’re all human. After seeing a man in shackles get chemotherapy all I can say is cancer sucks and it humanizes everyone.

Fast forward to December of 2025. After being PCR for two years post surgery and getting prophylactic immunotherapy, I randomly feel extremely tired and can’t figure out how to spell. I end up having a seizure and my wife finds me passed out in my home office. Metastasis to the brain and significant edema. I am rushed to the ER and two days later I have my skull rotozipped and my brain (or the part that’s not supposed to be in there) melonballed out. Discharged from the hospital three days later and am back to pretty much normal other than being emotionally numb. Follow up with a nice dose of stereotactic radiation to my head. Again - no side effects other than a patch or hair that seems to be growing back.

Everyone tells me I am lucky and I really want rainbows to be shooting out of my bottom. But at the same time I want to scream being lucky would be winning the lottery. Being lucky would be not having cancer. Being lucky would be that I don’t have to wake up every day and pretend to my girls that this is easy and that I am going to make it as long as I possibly can. I am not a warrior or brave. I showed up and did what my incredible medical team told me to do.

Tomorrow I go for my first follow up MRI since the MRI post-radiation. I feel normal but am petrified because I felt normal until I had a seizure out of nowhere.

And I am not sure what the point of this post is other than to vent. If you’re struggling going through the treatments - I promise you - it gets easier. It’s a slow and steady, find your new normal, find what works for you type of thing. And if you’re looking for inspiration just know - I am not going anywhere anytime soon. I look at percentages and probabilities and say - those numbers are for someone else at this point. EC is supposed to metastasize somewhere else before the brain, but here I am. And I will continue to be here until I say I am done.