On Colons, Cancer, and Courage

Field Notes From Fatherhood

The ‘c’ word.

No, not that one. This one is infinitely worse. It’s the one that starts with ‘can’ and ends with ‘cer.’

The one you’d really rather not have cross your doctor’s lips in relation to yourself or anyone you love. Yet here we are.

If you’ve been wondering why you haven’t seen much new on FNFF (as though you have nothing more important to ponder), well, those two vicious little syllables are largely responsible.

To make a very long and convoluted story short, my wife had been having intestinal issues, and had visited two private clinics and two hospital emergency wards, where the doctors saw simply a constipated lady and sent her packing with prescriptions for laxatives. Lots of laxatives. We could open a small pharmacy specializing in purgatives with all of the medication we now possess designed to promote a really quality BM.

Nothing worked.

So we found ourselves in a hospital…

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