Tag Archives: cancer

U is for ulcers… and other things that maybe aren’t completely your fault.

The letter U has been bugging me and over the last several days, I have written and then deleted thousands of words about all sorts of things. The unexpected was a good thought, but I really already hammered that point home when I first started writing last fall. Ululation is what came to mind when I made my initial list, but pretty much all I had to say about that was, “Dang, that’s an excellent way to express strong emotions. Like the whistle on a tea kettle… got to have a way to release the steam…” and then I realized I’d pretty much already done that before, too.  And I had already written about Unicorns back in January. Too bad, too, because I feel like I could have gone the Voldemort direction with that…

But then last night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, the story of Nobel Laureates Robin Warren and Barry Marshall popped into my head. (And then I emailed myself a sleepy and disjointed message that I’m now trying to decipher…) Warren and Marshall won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 2005 for demonstrating that peptic ulcers, previously attributed to type A personalities and high levels of stress, were actually an infectious disease resulting from gastric colonization with the bacterium Helicobacter pylori. (So… you count sheep, I count microorganisms. It’s whatever.)

I thought about those ulcers and I thought about all those people for all those years who felt so sick and then felt even worse because they thought it was their own fault– if only I could calm down! Relax a bit! Then I would get better.

Turns out, a prolonged course of antibiotics probably would have been about the only thing to do the trick. I wonder how that felt– good to know it wasn’t your own fault? Sucky that you felt like it was for so long?

And yet, ulcer sufferers aren’t the only group of patients to have blame placed squarely on their own shoulders. Many other disease sufferers are seen the same way– tummy troubles? Unless you can get a diagnosis of Crohn’s or celiac disease, you end up in the IBS catchall and if you could just eat better, reduce your stress, whatever, you’d be fine. Mental illness too… unless you’ve suffered from one, there’s just no way to know what it’s like and we have very little understanding of why. But truly, I can imagine nothing worse than fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome or any other number of exceptionally difficult to diagnose autoimmune and rheumatological disorders… throw in the fact that women are much more likely to suffer than men and we recognize quickly why the term “hysterectomy” was coined (because women needed all their lady bits removed to cure hysteria…. I’m not even kidding… feel free to rage, I’ll wait…).

 

Once upon a time, Antonie van Leeweunhoek looked through his homegrown microscope to observe what he called “animalcules” that later proved to be the agent of infectious disease. (Note: I really liked the book Microbe Hunters. It’s an over-dramatized, yet accurate, story of the history of microbiology and very engrossing if you’re into that sort of thing.) Eventually, we as a society stopped believing in humors, airs, and miasmas and started recognizing the reality that was contagion. Today, researchers work tirelessly to investigate pathways of cause and effect; to uncover the mechanism behind the diseases we still don’t understand. And someday, I have to believe the blame will end up in the right place… that is to say, off the sufferer’s shoulders.

But what about societal ailments?

Those are a little tougher… tougher to recognize. Tougher to understand. Tougher to cure.

What do I mean by societal ailments?

Things like obesity and fat-shaming.

Things like racial intolerance and categorizing young black men as thugs.

Things like blaming a woman for her own rape because of the clothes she was wearing.

Things like assuming homelessness is self-inflicted.

These things have causes too. Some personal, most not. Personal accountability is important, of course, but ultimately, the causes are insanely complex. Insidious. Difficult to pinpoint and even more difficult to comprehend.

I have, of course, a million thoughts on the above examples. I’m sure you do too. The point I think it’s really important to make here, though, is that all of these things are a little more like ulcers than we may realize.

You see, even the cause and effect of H. pylori infection and gastric ulcer is subject to mitigating circumstances. Approximately 80% of the world is estimated to be colonized by H. pylori, yet far fewer people than that actually ever have overt symptoms of disease, be it gastritis, ulcer, or cancer. Many other factors play a role, things we still don’t completely understand (although, guys, my friend, Dr. Jones from Indiana (I am not even kidding!) made major strides in figuring out some of those factors).

{I got some images from here and here... but I assure you, this composite did not exist until now.}
{I got some images from here and here… but I assure you, this composite did not exist until now. You believe me, right?}

We can’t control the world we grow up in anymore than we can control the microorganisms that colonize our body or the genes our cells express. So maybe, just maybe, we can stop blaming each other… stop blaming ourselves for every little thing, and look to the humble ulcer as an example of why.

 

This should have been the first thing I said, but dang: NERD ALERT!!!

Silver Lining: Precancerous Tubular Adenoma

Let’s just get this out there: if you’re embarrassed or grossed out by so called “bathroom talk,” this may be a post you want to skip.  But, as the book says, everybody poops.  So maybe talking about it is sometimes ok.  It can certainly be funny.  So here I go.

Bathroom talk is pretty much my first language.  I know what you’re thinking– didn’t you say that science was your first language in your last post?!  Good point!  And bonus points for observational skills!  But here’s what you may not know: the thing I studied for so very, very long in grad school was STDs.  Gonorrhea and chlamydia to be specific.  Boom.  Bathroom talk.  But I digress…

I love to run, but my intestines seem to resent me for even trying and I end up in frequent, urgent need of the facilities.  (Euphemisms… something else I’m good at.)  Twice, I didn’t make it.  (J, you know who you are, I’m so sorry for all the jokes!  I can totally relate and you can feel free to take a shot or two at your convenience!)  At least one of those times I made it to the woods.  The other time it was blessedly dark.  I have been frustrated and I have raged.  I have seen doctors, read books, searched the internet (wowie zowie, right?! the internet is pretty sure I am dying), and finally managed to get an appointment with a gastroenterologist who ultimately recommended that I undergo a colonoscopy and endocscopy to try to locate the source of the problem.  Cool.

(Well, not so cool when the doctor who actually did the colonoscopy turned out to be someone I work with on a regular basis professionally.  Pretty sure I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.  Thank goodness for email.)

The procedure was pretty much a piece of cake.  Yes, even the prep.  You know things have gotten out of control in your life when drinking a gallon of laxative is more pleasant than your basic every day experience.  (No cramping!  No pain!  You know it’s coming!  What’s not to like?!)  After the procedure I was truly hoping for the worst—obvious inflammation, a biopsy result indicative of something real, but also treatable.  Anything to slap a label on.  Someone to tell me that the craziness of my intestines was not just a figment of my imagination.  But, alas, that was not the case.  All of the biopsies from the small and large intestine came back negative, no indication of what could be wrong.  From here, we will proceed with a lactose intolerance test.  (Ummmm… yeah.  I’m lactose intolerant.  I don’t need a test to tell you that.  Give me some ice cream and you’re going to want to leave the room within 30 minutes.   Guaranteed.  But I’ll do the test, whatevs.)  So that was disappointing to say the least.

But wait… there’s more…

During the procedure, the doctor also removed a polyp that proved to be a precancerous tubular adenoma and you’ll be scheduled for routine screening colonoscopy every 5 years from here on out.  Ok, bye.

Literally, that was the end of the conversation.  Um, dang.  Drop the mic, walk away… at least that’s what it felt like from my end.

I’m 29 years old and have no family history of colon cancer.  In fact, I have very little family history of cancer at all.  I’m like a dang mosquito when it comes to family members getting screened (“Have you had your annual mammogram yet? Now?  How about now??? … No???  Would you get a mammogram if I sent you some data about mammograms???”) and I spend the vast majority of my working life studying breast, colon, and prostate cancer.  So I did some math (got to put that PhD to work!) and realized that I’m not technically due for a colon cancer screening of any sort for another TWENTY-ONE years.  Twenty.  One.  And it dawned on me… if my intestines hadn’t gone bananas, I would have gotten cancer.  Colon cancer.  Before the age of 50.  And it would have been diagnosed by symptoms, which means it probably would have been advanced.  Wow.  Silver-freaking-lining.  My oops-I-crapped-my-pants moment (have you seen that SNL skit—so funny, YouTube it.  But look, a hyperlink, I did the work for you!) prompted me to go back to the doctor (for something like the 5th time), which prompted my referral to GI, which prompted my colonoscopy, which may have literally saved my life, or at the very least prevented a whole boatload of unpleasantness.  Again: wow.

That tangled mess of intestines was like that tangled mess of threads… it was confusing, troublesome, a literal pain in the butt.  But wow, did that turn out differently than I expected.  It all seems to have been part of something so different than I could ever have imagined.  I love that.

PS(A): Are you over 50 years old?  Yes?  Have you had a colonoscopy?  If not, pretty please just do it.  It’s so worth it.

PPS:  I’d still love a diagnosis on the intestinal trouble, but considering the whole removal-of-precancerous-polyp thing, I’m going to give them a minute to figure it out…