The story of "I noticed my own lump"

——The third metastasis and the decision to have surgery

Last time, I wrote about the lung surgery and the hellish XELOX therapy that followed.

After finishing the grueling chemotherapy, I returned to work on a reduced schedule in March 2025. Even though I was still dealing with numbness in my hands and feet, chronic fatigue, and stomach issues, I thought I would be able to return to my daily life again.

However, it wasn't a routine checkup that ended up shaking that daily life once again. It was my own hand.

The routine of checkups, back again

Since returning to work, the routine of regular checkups had continued.

Regular blood tests, CT scans, and consultations. It was a familiar flow that I had repeated many times. Up until the October 2025 checkup, there were no particular issues. I spent my days feeling relieved, thinking, "It was okay this time, too."

To be honest, around this time, I also felt like things were finally settling down. The numbness in my hands and feet, mild fatigue, and abdominal discomfort remained, but I was gradually accepting them as things I just had to live with.

The discomfort I had overlooked for over half a year

Looking back now, there were signs.

I had a vague sense of discomfort around the base of my left leg. And it had been there for over half a year.

But this was the tricky part. It didn't hurt, and it didn't itch. Just when I had forgotten about it, I would suddenly think, "Huh, something feels off." It's hard to describe, but it was just a feeling of it being "blocked."

Because it was only that much, I thought, "Maybe it's just my imagination," "Maybe it's a side effect of the chemotherapy affecting the sensation in my legs," or "I'll have it checked at a hospital sometime." That's how I ended up overlooking it.

Even in my regular checkups, this hadn't been flagged.

When I touched it, there was a lump

One day in November 2025.

I suddenly remembered that discomfort in my leg. And for some reason, I touched the base of my left leg.

——There was a lump.

A clearly identifiable "mass" was there.

In that moment, I felt a chill. My past experiences set off an alarm inside me. "I need to contact them immediately." It didn't matter that it didn't hurt or that nothing had been said during my regular checkups. There was something clearly different in my body. That alone was reason enough.

Please let it be a benign lump...! I contacted the hospital immediately.

It is likely malignant.

Upon receiving the news, my primary doctor also immediately determined that an examination was necessary. I had an appointment in December. Based on the palpation and subsequent tests, the doctor's assessment was that it was 'likely malignant.' I was devastated.

The results of tests such as a CT scan revealed that it had metastasized to the lymph nodes in my left groin (the base of my leg).

However, one saving grace was that 'it did not appear to have spread to areas other than the lymph nodes.' In other words, there was a possibility that it could be completely removed through surgery.

My decision-making criteria up to this point were already set: 'If it can be removed, remove it.' This was the same as with the two second opinions I wrote about in parts 3 and 4, and the lung metastasis I wrote about in part 6.

——But this time, before that decision, there was a heavy explanation.

In the worst-case scenario, you may have to have one leg amputated.

The surgical plan involved a dissection (removal) of the left inguinal lymph nodes and a combined resection of the femoral vein.

And then, the doctor told me this:

Depending on the progression of the metastasis, there is a possibility that the femoral artery will also need to be resected during surgery. In that case, arterial reconstruction using a vascular graft or an artificial blood vessel will be necessary. If blood flow is interrupted or an infection occurs afterward leading to necrosis, in the worst case, you may have to have one leg amputated.

......Amputation of one leg.

That was, as expected, a heavy statement.

However, I have experience with a permanent colostomy. 'If prioritizing a complete cure, there is a possibility of losing a part of the body'—I already knew that from personal experience. Therefore, my mind did not go blank.

However, I also know that after losing a part of one's own body, there is a possibility of facing more various problems than one might imagine. I still wanted time to make a decision. I asked for one week to think about it.

Even so, I chose surgery.

After thinking for a week, I decided to undergo the surgery without seeking a second opinion.

During the previous explanation, I was also given the option of heavy ion radiotherapy, but in that case, even if it went well, the blood vessels could become fragile, which might narrow the options if a recurrence were to happen next time.

I had previously undergone a rectal amputation to receive a colostomy after radiation therapy, and at that time, I was told that the tissue had become fibrotic and hardened due to the effects of the radiation therapy, which made the surgery take longer, so it was easy for me to imagine.

Since a complete cure is not absolute, I also wanted to think about what comes next. Furthermore, the fact that it was explained to me that 'leg amputation is only the worst-case scenario and the probability is low' was a big factor.

I think I was able to make the decision precisely because I had heard that the possibility of amputation was low.

To be honest, if I had been told from the beginning that "we will amputate" or "the chances are fifty-fifty"—well, I would have hesitated much more! I can imagine some of the inconveniences after amputation more intuitively than with a colostomy. I don't think I could have said "Yes, please" so easily.

However, in this case, there was a possibility that it could be completely removed, and amputation was the worst-case scenario with a low probability. In that case, I would choose the option with a higher possibility of a cure and a wider range of possibilities for the prognosis. My past experiences supported that judgment.

It's not that I had no hesitation until the end. But my consistent feeling of "making a choice with conviction" did not change.

I also took action regarding work in advance

Here, too, my past lessons were useful.

At the time I decided on the surgery in December, I consulted with my supervisor. That the hospitalization itself could likely be handled within the scope of my paid leave. And that if chemotherapy was needed after the surgery, I would likely have to take a leave of absence. I had coordinated this in advance.

As I wrote in episodes 5 and 7, when you make arrangements for work early, your state of mind is completely different. Creating a situation where "all I have to do is focus on treatment." This is one of the few pieces of wisdom I have finally acquired after repeatedly being hospitalized and discharged.

In conclusion—the person who listens to their own body's voice the most is oneself

This is what I want to convey most this time.

Regular checkups are not omnipotent.

I was properly receiving checkups once every six months. Even so, this metastasis in the groin was not found during regular checkups. What found it was when I touched my own body with my own hands.

Of course, regular checkups are important. You should definitely get them. But I have experienced many times that it is just as important to notice when "your body feels different than usual."

For both the first re-enlargement and this lump, there is no doubt that if I hadn't had my own feeling that "something is strange," the discovery would have been delayed even further. Even if it doesn't hurt, and even if nothing is said during the examination, if you feel that "it's different than usual," please contact the hospital without hesitation.

If nothing is wrong, there is nothing better than that. It is best if it ends with "you were just worrying too much." Even if it turns out to be a bad result, by being able to detect it early, things will be much better later on.

The person who listens to the voice of their own body most closely is oneself.

Next time, I will write about my third surgery—the most difficult hospitalization I have had so far.

Thank you for reading until the end.

※This article is a record based on the author's personal experience and does not guarantee the accuracy or effectiveness of specific systems, procedures, medical practices, etc. The information posted may vary depending on the time and environment. In the unlikely event that any damage or disadvantage occurs due to the information in this article, the author assumes no responsibility, so please make final decisions at your own risk.