Voices of AYAO

THE ‘‘VOICES OF AYAO’’ FEATURE in each issue of JAYAO

will have stories from real patients and survivors, intheir own words. It is our hope that these illustrate thepersonal journeys and experiences of AYAs living throughand surviving with cancer and its effects.

—Editors

Dave’s Story

I’m very fond of the term ‘‘You can’t script this.’’ In 1991, Istarted working for my wife’s family business—which sells,among other items, ostomy supplies. We grew the businessuntil eventually we were acquired by a bigger company. Atage 29, a lot was happening at once: first child, new businessowners, first house.lots of stress.

So when I started having cramps and bleeding, it didn’toccur to me that it could be cancer, even with my familyhistory. My grandfather had colon cancer, ultimately having acolostomy but living well into his eighties. My father hadcolon cancer in his forties, but had obvious symptoms such aslosing weight and having a very ashen look to him, and he’sstill alive in his seventies. At 6 feet tall, I was still a solid 200pounds, worked more than a full schedule, and was playingsoccer. I visitedmy primary physician, whomisdiagnosedmeeven though the family history was listed on my chart. Hedidn’t do a rectal exam and recommended that I take someover-the-counter stuff to control the ulcer-like symptoms.

A few months later when symptoms hadn’t subsided, Iwent to a specialist who toldme the news—colon cancer at 29.We found a highly recommended GI doctor who confirmedthe results, and I was scheduled for surgery. Laparoscopywasn’t around then, so the surgery was pretty intense. I wokewith a pretty sizable scar and a buckled-over pain in my ab-dominal area. After five days I was released, but then had sixmonths of chemotherapy as the cancer had spread to at leastone of my lymph nodes. My chemo was weekly on a Friday. Iwould take off fromwork, get hooked up to the IV, and spendthe next day and a half incapacitated. On Sunday morning, Iwould drag myself out of bed and go play soccer. I felt like Iwas licking sand. For the first time in my life, I forced myselfto eat a ton of mango sorbet and haven’t eaten it since.

My wife and I debated having more children, knowing thepotential for our children to inherit my family propensity forcolon cancer. We ultimately agreed to have more kids. Fouryears after Dubin #1 came Dubin #2. By now, I had left the oldfamily business and started an Internet venture, which brieflyrelocated the family to Florida. The Internet sector tankedaround 2000, and we restarted the family medical supplybusiness inNew Jersey, taking back our previous clients. OnceI was five years cancer-free at age 35, I was allowed to startdonating blood once again. It was something I previously did

with regularity. I did some radio work in my spare time andstarted coaching my oldest son in soccer.

Cancer was becoming a badmemory for me, until my olderbrother was diagnosed at age 37 (he is five years older thanme). But my annual colonoscopies were clear, and somewhatenjoyable as I did my own narration. (My GI doc thinks I’mnuts. I am.) Four years after Dubin #2 came Dubin #3. Wemoved into our third house in the very same town. I was nowcoaching both of my oldest kids in soccer. I was still getting’scoped and donating blood.

On May 1, 2007, I went to donate blood, but my hemo-globin level was so low they were practically ready to give mea transfusion. Even though it had been less than a year sincemy last scope, they recommended I contactmyGI doctor rightaway. Since I have my GI doc on speed dial, I reached himquickly and had a scope done. It confirmed another tumor,which freaked out everyone since it appeared in less than ayear, didn’t start as a polyp, and became cancerous so quickly.Surgery was scheduled for just after Memorial Day, and Iwas put on a heavy iron regimen. Numerous friends trav-eled across the Hudson River to donate blood on my behalf atthe hospital. I decided to hold my first (hopefully annual)‘‘Dave’s not Dead Yet’’ BBQ on Memorial Day. I had tworeasons for doing so—first and foremost, there were a lot ofpeople with a lot of questions, and I didn’t want rumors andconfusion to dictate the conversation. Also, I wanted to enjoymy last meal as someone with more colon. It was a good day.Two days later, I had surgery once again, this time lapar-oscopically, and as hoped and expected it was cut and dry,so to speak. No blood transfusion was needed after all, therewas minimal scarring or pain, and I didn’t need any chemoafterwards.

After tumor #2, I started a blog, www.AliveandKickn.com.It’s my therapy. I write about my life as a survivor. When I seethings I can’t fathom, I try to put it into words, to put thingsinto perspective. I look at bigger issues such as the environ-ment, food, government, and try to filter out the nonsense andfind some common sense. It’s not easy. Somany ofmy friends,relatives, and business associates get caught up in theminutia.I can’t. I don’t know how many people follow the blog, but Iupdate as often as I can. I had genetic testing done and (sur-prisingly) was found to be at risk for colon cancer. I havehereditary nonpolyposis colorectal cancer (HNPCC), orLynch syndrome, which is prevalent in less than 5% of allcolon cancer patients. Lucky me. Some people inherit money.

I decided to start seeing an oncologist. I don’t really likehaving an oncologist, but staying vertical is important, so Imade the commitment. He recommended a battery of teststhat made me glow in the dark. Not wasting any time, inAugust 2008 I was accepted into a leadership developmentprogram in New Jersey. In November 2008, I was also elected

JOURNAL OF ADOLESCENT AND YOUNG ADULT ONCOLOGYVolume 1, Number 3, 2011ª Mary Ann Liebert, Inc.DOI: 10.1089/jayao.2012.1501

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