Life is a Ride It starts with a first breath, and then with a cry. It ends with a last breath on the day you die. And in between life is a ride. -from the song “Life is a Ride” Paul Sanchez wrote the music, Chris Joseph and Alex McMurray wrote lyrics
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n late October of 2016, I was diagnosed with stage III pancreatic cancer. I thought I was fucked. This is my story of dealing with the physical and emotional fallout of a cancer diagnosis. It’s a story of tremendous fear. Of deep emotional pain. Of anguish, wondering how soon I was going to die and how painful my death would be. And it’s also a story of courage while fighting fear. Of independence. Of putting one foot in front of the other. Of daring to be different and not following conventional wisdom. Of perseverance. It’s a story of connection. Of love. Of redemption. Of getting knocked down and finding a way to pick myself up off the mat. Most of all, it’s a story of beating the odds and getting healthy. **** A man who introduced himself as a radiologist entered the room where I had been nervously sitting and fidgeting impatiently for more than 30 minutes. With a solemn face he bluntly said, “Sorry to give you the bad news...we found a mass in your pancreas.”
Whatever he told me after that, I didn’t hear. It was as if someone had hit the mute button. All I could see was that 12
CHRIS JOSEPH
he was still talking, but there wasn’t any I made no connection between the sound coming out of his mouth. depression and what I thought was a stomach virus. He came unmuted at the end to say, “Talk to Doctor Mossgale. You can go On October 28, I visited Dr. Mossgale. home.” He ordered some blood work for the lab, probed around my stomach and A routine visit to get some medical tests abdomen and then suggested I get had turned into a calamity. some scans “to make sure everything is okay.” What he didn’t tell me was he **** felt something in my abdomen during It started as an innocent and typical his examination. He suggested I get a Southern California sunny day. CT scan and an ultrasound and wrote a A Monday. The 31st of October, prescription for me. Halloween Day. 2016. I was 59. In the mid-afternoon of that Halloween That Monday morning was like most Day, I drove by myself to the imaging other school mornings. I woke my kids center in Santa Monica, not far from my up, made sure they were fed, got them house. off to their school and then started my I wasn’t worried at all. I was still workday. My kids, Jasper and AJ, were 14 convinced that I had nothing more than and 12 at the time. a lingering virus and that with the passage of time and maybe some supplements For all of that October and the latter part and temporary dietary changes, I would of September, I had been experiencing be healed. some abdominal discomfort. I figured it was a lingering stomach bug. The After the ultrasound, I waited for the discomfort was nagging me, but it second test. And waited. And waited. certainly didn’t scream to me that Longer than a “normal” wait. Thirty to something was seriously wrong. Finally, 40 minutes went by. in late October, I decided to have it checked by Dr. Mossgale. Getting restless and impatient, I asked the front desk person what was going on. I had also, for maybe three to four months She went back and talked to someone, prior to October 31, been suffering from then came back and told me the first of some major depression. This was strange many unforgettable things I heard that because my life was pretty good. Work day. was thriving, my girlfriend, Susie, and I had righted the ship after a hiccup the “We need to contact your regular doctor year before and my kids were doing well. because we want to run some additional tests that he didn’t order.” I had no apparent reason to be deeply I could feel my heart pounding. depressed during this period. For several weeks, there were many times I had Finally, the imaging staff ushered me contemplated ending my life. I couldn’t in for whatever additional tests they figure out why I felt this way, and I was wanted to run along with the CT scan too depressed and too ashamed of being I’d been waiting for. depressed to tell anyone or to seek help.
