Maybe you have already heard... I find myself having particular difficulty not repeating myself. 30 years cancer free, ביום הזה ממש/on this very day. This very day, Purim, 30 years ago, the doctor called me at 4:00-ish PM to tell me that I was cured of cancer. Every year since then I have made my first s'udah on Purim in the morning (which the Rema says is just fine, 695:2, smart guy), and it doubles as a סעודת הודיה/meal to give thanks to the Creator. Oh, you'd like the back story?
In Oct/Nov of 1996, I visited the doctor because I had bronchitis. We only had one car at the time, and my daughter was also under the weather, so I went to our family practitioner to make things easier. She, the doctor, diagnosed me with bronchitis—which I routinely got that time of year in Chicago—and prescribed a course of antibiotics. Usually that did the trick, but this time the illness hung on. Before going back to that doctor, I mentioned to a chaver of mine that I was seeing a woman doctor, but that was ok, right? He politely suggested that I discuss that with R' Fuerst, who told me it was better to go to a male doctor. No problem, I told the family practitioner—who was also frum—what R' Fuerst had told me; all good. I went back to my regular doctor, who checked my whole body since this had been going on for several weeks now and discovered that even though I did have a nasty case of bronchitis, I also had a touch of cancer.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play? Just for context, the tumor had started on the inside of my back and was now big enough (approximately 15 lbs) for the surgeon to get a biopsy from the front without surgery. Lucky me! (I had the z'chus to meet and discuss this with R' Matisyahu Soloman, ztzv"l. More on that here.)
Fast forward three months and four rounds of intense chemotherapy. My oncologist told me that since the cancer had presented on the inside of my back, a surgeon would need to go in to take a look to ensure all was good. My wife and I visited the surgeon; here's an accurate synopsis of what he told us:
There is only two ways to get to the tumor site. The closest is through your back, but your spinal cord is in the way. So, I am going to need to cut you from here (pointing to my right shoulder) to here (pointing to my left hip). I will take everything out so I can get to the tumour site. It is about a six hour surgery. You'll need about a week in the hospital and a month at home to recover, though complete recovery will require about a year. How old are you? Ah... 38... So, I will do my best not to hit any nerves, but there's a lot of nerves in that area. You'll need to wear diapers the rest of your life and I hope you've had all the children you want. Please call the hospital to schedule the surgery as soon as possible. I should have an opening (no pun intended?! Oh, please... ) in about a week.
So we went home, and I was about to call the hospital when I remembered I had to ask R' Fuerst about something. After that discussion, the dayan asked how I was doing. I mentioned the surgery that I was about to schedule. "Please remind me exactly what kind of cancer you had." I did. "Ah. The world expert on that kind of cancer is at Indiana University. Here's his name; make an appointment to see him." I called and said that R' Fuerst told me to call. "R' Fuerst? We can see you tomorrow. Bring you records."
I got my records, and we drove to IU. The doctor examined me and looked at my records. "Well, you have a rare kind of cancer the way this presented; only 1000 to 1500 cases a year in the US. A pathologist can go his whole career and never see this. It comes in two variations. One, the more common, requires the surgery they told you about. However, I think you have the other type, for which surgery is not indicated. I need to check some things, and I'll call you in a few days to confirm."
Purim day at 4:00-ish PM, 5756, I got a call on the home phone. (If you don't know what that is, as your parents... maybe grandparents.) "Hello, this is doctor so-and-so. I checked your records and confirmed that you had the variety of cancer that does not need any further treatment. You are cured."
Here we are 30 years later. Every day is a gift, but somehow three decades feels like something that needs more recognition. I plan to make a siyum on Masechta Nedarim, בעזרת השם. You are welcome to stop by for a l'chaim. לחיים ממש
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