Survivor Story - "Your Pain is Real"
"See that Mr. Reganato? We don't know what that is but we know it doesn't belong there," said Doctor Nagler. I peered closely at the area on the backlit x-ray Doctor Nagler was pointing to. I could make out a golf ball-size mass part of which faded into an indistinct blur. "That tells us that your pain is real." Real? Of course it was real! I had been suffering with that awful sucking pain in my stomach for eight years. Although nothing showed on several GI series I had, I was being treated for a duodenal ulcer. Since I had had duodenal ulcers twice before perhaps the diagnosis was a logical one. But now in February 1979 as I sat at my desk trying to concentrate on a crew systems problem on the A-6 Intruder aircraft, the pain increased to the point where tears welled up in my eyes (unusual for me since I have a fairly high tolerance of pain). I called the office of Nagler, Rosof, and Brodsky, my gastroenterologists, and spoke to Dr. Brodsky. He schedule me for a GI series the next day. Here we are now staring at the results.
"What do you recommend," I asked. Dr. Nagler advised me to have a series of tests done to try to identify the invader. Accordingly, I went through a series of IVP, endoscope and bile duct tests to try to identify the mass. They were all negative in the sense that all was normal. It must be remembered that MRI's were not in general use at the time. it would be several years before they came on line as diagnostic tools. Consequently, I was advised to undergo exploratory surgery to identify the cause of distress and if possible remove it. I immediately agreed. My engineering background dictated that if something was wrong with the system, let's fix it. Fear of surgery was not going to make this intruder go away much less my pain. So I decided, "Let's get on with it and solve the problem." I was placed under the care of Dr. Ezri Sokol, General Surgeon, at Huntington Hospital. I met with Dr. Sokol a few days before the surgery. He advised me that since he didn't know what he'd be facing once he went in he'd be prepared for anything hoping that my pancreas would not be involved. "That would create havoc" as he put it. I was at peace as I awaited the day of my surgery. I know it was my strong faith that put me at ease.
Sometime after the surgery I was visited by Dr. Sokol. He filled me in on the results. He had removed a malignant tumor about four inches long growing out of a blood vessel in the lining of my chest. Tissue samples were taken in the region surrounding the site of the tumor and sent off to biopsy. The samples were negative. His consultations with oncologists resulted in no chemotherapy or radiations but I was placed on Cat Scan Surviellance for five years on or near the anniversary of the surgery. Shortly before I left the hospital, a Cat Scan was taken as a baseline to compare subsequent scans. Dr. Brodsky told me that the cancer i had was retroperitoneal leiomyosarcoma. Very, very rare. In addition to Cat Scans, another result of the cancer was I could not give blood in my company's blood drives. This was no small thing since my blood type is A negative, classified as rare. Since 1979 I have had no more sarcomas, although I had an acoustical neuroma removed in 1986 and was successfully treated for prostate cancer by radiation and hormone therapy in 1009. Since 1979, I have conducted my life in a normal way; providing for my wife and two sons (both grown now of course) serving my church teaching adult Sunday school and college level classes, and completing a career as an engineer in the space industry. Iv'e been retired since 1993, published a short story, and I'm presently a tour guide at the Vanderbilt Museum and Mansion here on Long Island. RLMS is a very rare cancer but it is treatable and survivable. We should not let it defeat us. We should resolve to live our lives as they were meant to be lived. Encourage others that LMS can be defeated.
Contact Peter Reganato
"What do you recommend," I asked. Dr. Nagler advised me to have a series of tests done to try to identify the invader. Accordingly, I went through a series of IVP, endoscope and bile duct tests to try to identify the mass. They were all negative in the sense that all was normal. It must be remembered that MRI's were not in general use at the time. it would be several years before they came on line as diagnostic tools. Consequently, I was advised to undergo exploratory surgery to identify the cause of distress and if possible remove it. I immediately agreed. My engineering background dictated that if something was wrong with the system, let's fix it. Fear of surgery was not going to make this intruder go away much less my pain. So I decided, "Let's get on with it and solve the problem." I was placed under the care of Dr. Ezri Sokol, General Surgeon, at Huntington Hospital. I met with Dr. Sokol a few days before the surgery. He advised me that since he didn't know what he'd be facing once he went in he'd be prepared for anything hoping that my pancreas would not be involved. "That would create havoc" as he put it. I was at peace as I awaited the day of my surgery. I know it was my strong faith that put me at ease.
Sometime after the surgery I was visited by Dr. Sokol. He filled me in on the results. He had removed a malignant tumor about four inches long growing out of a blood vessel in the lining of my chest. Tissue samples were taken in the region surrounding the site of the tumor and sent off to biopsy. The samples were negative. His consultations with oncologists resulted in no chemotherapy or radiations but I was placed on Cat Scan Surviellance for five years on or near the anniversary of the surgery. Shortly before I left the hospital, a Cat Scan was taken as a baseline to compare subsequent scans. Dr. Brodsky told me that the cancer i had was retroperitoneal leiomyosarcoma. Very, very rare. In addition to Cat Scans, another result of the cancer was I could not give blood in my company's blood drives. This was no small thing since my blood type is A negative, classified as rare. Since 1979 I have had no more sarcomas, although I had an acoustical neuroma removed in 1986 and was successfully treated for prostate cancer by radiation and hormone therapy in 1009. Since 1979, I have conducted my life in a normal way; providing for my wife and two sons (both grown now of course) serving my church teaching adult Sunday school and college level classes, and completing a career as an engineer in the space industry. Iv'e been retired since 1993, published a short story, and I'm presently a tour guide at the Vanderbilt Museum and Mansion here on Long Island. RLMS is a very rare cancer but it is treatable and survivable. We should not let it defeat us. We should resolve to live our lives as they were meant to be lived. Encourage others that LMS can be defeated.
Contact Peter Reganato
