Seven Words You Don’t Want to Hear
We found a mass on your [fill in the blank].
Long exposure Self Portrait on a 10 second timer by me using my Canon EOS R5 with a Sirui Saturn 75mm Anamorphic lens. Photo by Greg Frucci, August 2, 2025.
Part One: The Beginning
I’d been having pain in my gut for over a year. Random occurrences would occur, and then they would go away. Sure, I went to see doctors, and they all had something different to say and often contradicted each other. Even had a colonoscopy done. They found some diverticula, as they had suspected, but nothing significant. I was told just to be careful of what I eat. Essentially, I was considered extremely healthy as a sixty-four-year-old male. And I was. I surfed. I did yoga. I hiked. I skydived at times. I felt and acted like a kid.
The pain in my gut got worse. Way worse.
Beginning in October 2024, I was having constant pain, and it kept getting worse with each passing day. I tried to ignore it. I tried changing my diet. Yet, it kept getting more intense. I didn’t see a doctor for an entire month of pain. Finally, early in the pre-dawn morning of November 1, 2024, I drove myself to the ER, which was something I had sworn I would never do, as I believed that if I could drive to the ER, then I didn’t need to go to the ER. Man, was I wrong.
Lucky for me, the ER wasn’t busy. Within an hour, they had me in an ER room, managed my pain with medication, and scheduled a CAT Scan with other tests. Not long after that, a very nice doctor entered my room.
Hi Greg, my name is Dr. So and so, and I am the Cancer doctor for this hospital. Now, I’m not saying you have cancer, but we did find a mass on your pancreas. We need to transfer you to another hospital where they will be able to perform the appropriate laparoscopic surgery to take a biopsy of the mass that we see on your pancreas. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but know that we will take very good care of you. I am putting you on morphine from now on. If you have pain, ask for more. Do you have any questions?
Uh, yeah…I had a lot of questions, including the big one: How long do I have if this is Pancreatic Cancer?
Even if this is cancer and the mass is a malignant tumor, I have excellent news for you. You have a thirty-five percent chance of still being alive in the next five years.
So, yeah, I had the same reaction you’re having right now: How in the world is that good news?
Well, Greg, most people who find out that they have Pancreatic Cancer are dead in much less time. If this is Pancreatic Cancer, then you have a good chance of living another five years or so because we are discovering it early enough that we can operate and potentially remove the tumor. Right now, it is best not to focus on it. We need to take a biopsy before any decisions are made.
Imagine the intensity of the moment. This was a pivotal moment in my life, and it sucked… big-time. For all stages combined, the five-year survival rate is about 13%, according to the American Cancer Society.
Two days later, a biopsy was taken of the mass at another hospital to which I was transferred. Less than twenty-four hours after that, I was told that I had a malignant tumor on my pancreas. I was also informed that I would need an implant on my upper chest area for chemotherapy, I would need to schedule surgery for the removal of a portion of my pancreas, and another round of chemotherapy after that. Plus, they threw in six weeks of radiation after the surgery and before the final rounds of chemo.
Currently, I am in the final round of chemotherapy with only two treatments remaining, and then I can ring the bell.
Quite a bit has happened since I first found out about the cancer in me. I went dark for a time and kept that to myself, although some close to me noticed it. I thought about ending my life. I thought about a lot of stuff that I may get into later.
I am proud to say that I now have a different attitude towards this journey. One of the most significant aspects of my life that has a healing effect on me is my photography. I put my camera down at the end of January 2025 and didn’t pick it up again until April 2025. Since then, my photography has morphed into something incredible. At least, I think so.
I call this Luminescent Shoreline. Photograph by me, Greg Frucci, 2025
I thought about not writing anything about my cancer. I didn’t want to whine. I was taught by my USMC Fighter Pilot father not to complain. Don’t be a baby, Greg.
I’m writing about it now because this might help someone in the future. Even if this helps just one soul, then I will have accomplished my goal.
This is Part One. There will be more.
