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" Rick Scott knew he had an emotional crowd cheering him on at the 2002 North Carolina state high school swimming championships. But he wasn&amp;#039;t prepared for the reaction when he won his event, the 100-yard breaststroke. A soft-spoken young man not prone to bragging, Rick allows that the crowd&amp;#039;s enthusiasm was &amp;quot;pretty crazy.&amp;quot; Adds his mom, Phillis: &amp;quot;After he touched the wall, he looked at me and smiled. I was crying\u2014and so was everyone else.&amp;quot;  Rick, then a 17-year-old high school senior, had been diagnosed with testicular cancer only four months before his big win. As cocaptain of the swim team, he had continued to train while undergoing daily radiation treatments. &amp;quot;I had to think about life and death earlier than most kids,&amp;quot; Rick says now. &amp;quot;But fighting cancer changed me. It showed me what I&amp;#039;m capable of.&amp;quot; Three years earlier, in his freshman health class at his high school in Durham, Rick learned that testicular cancer most commonly strikes men between the ages of 15 and 40. The male students were taught to perform a self-exam\u2014similar to that for breast cancer\u2014to check for lumps and bumps. Afterward, Rick got in the habit of doing the exam in the shower. His family had little history of cancer, but as an athlete, he had always been careful about his health. &amp;quot;Kids that age are invincible, you know?&amp;quot; he says now. &amp;quot;They&amp;#039;re never going to die. But for some reason, it caught my attention that really young men get this disease.&amp;quot; In October 2001, Rick felt a lump the size of a pea on one of his testicles. He waited a day for it to go away. When it didn&amp;#039;t, he called his pediatrician, without consulting his parents, and scheduled a checkup. &amp;quot;I guess he was a little embarrassed to tell his mom,&amp;quot; says Phillis. But at the checkup, Rick&amp;#039;s doctor was reassuring. &amp;quot;I asked him about testicular cancer, and he didn&amp;#039;t think that&amp;#039;s what it was,&amp;quot; says Rick. The doctor suspected an inflammation, an infection, or a benign cyst\u2014but ordered an ultrasound just to be sure. Rick asked his mother to come with him to the follow-up appointment without mentioning cancer. &amp;quot;I didn&amp;#039;t want her to worry,&amp;quot; he says. But at the clinic, the radiologist pulled Phillis aside and told her that the mass had all the characteristics of a cancerous tumor. Phillis was still trying to make sense of the news when Rick walked over. &amp;quot;I saw that she looked really sad,&amp;quot; he says. &amp;quot;I started to go numb. When I heard it was cancer, I just broke down.&amp;quot;  Since testicular cancer can be extremely fast-growing, the most prudent course of action was also the most aggressive: immediate tests and, if the diagnosis was confirmed, removal of the testicle. Same-day treatment isn&amp;#039;t strictly necessary, but Rick and his mom drove directly to see James L. Mohler, M.D., who was then director of urologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Mohler examined Rick and suggested that Rick remain at the hospital for surgery. He was comforting, telling Rick that men don&amp;#039;t need two testicles for fertility or sexual function. &amp;quot;Once I heard that, I wanted to get it over with right away,&amp;quot; Rick says. &amp;quot;I wanted the cancer out of my body.&amp;quot; While Rick and his mom waited at the hospital, Phillis got on the phone to alert her three other children and Rick&amp;#039;s father, Keith. The couple had been separated for about a year, and Keith was in New Jersey on business. He didn&amp;#039;t hear Phillis&amp;#039;s messages until later that evening. &amp;quot;Then I had the longest night of my life,&amp;quot; Keith remembers, &amp;quot;very alone, very scared, and very helpless.&amp;quot; After the surgery, while Rick was recuperating at home, there was finally some good news: The pathology report showed that he had the least aggressive kind of testicular cancer, called seminoma, which has very high survival rates. And tests found no cancer cells in his abdomen or chest; it appeared that the cancer had not had time to spread. Dr. Mohler then presented Rick with two options: &amp;quot;watch and wait,&amp;quot; with frequent checkups to detect a recurrence, or four weeks of radiation to kill any undetected cancer cells. &amp;quot;Honestly, &amp;#039;watch and wait&amp;#039; sounded to me like &amp;#039;watch and worry and wait,&amp;#039;&amp;quot; says Rick, who opted for the more aggressive treatment. Because radiation can affect fertility, Rick banked sperm before treatment started. He then went to the radiation clinic every day after school. At first, the treatment made him sick; medicine helped ward off nausea, but he was very tired. His girlfriend broke up with him, for reasons unrelated to the cancer. &amp;quot;But I didn&amp;#039;t want to feel sorry for myself,&amp;quot; he says. &amp;quot;And I didn&amp;#039;t want anyone cutting me any breaks. I just didn&amp;#039;t let myself get down about it.&amp;quot; Every day after treatment, Rick went straight to swim practice, getting back in the water only two weeks after his diagnosis. His determination paid off with his win at the state championships. &amp;quot;Rick proved he can accomplish anything he chooses to,&amp;quot; says his dad. &amp;quot;He handled his situation with courage and optimism.&amp;quot; Now 22, Rick recently graduated from North Carolina State University, where he was captain of the swim team, and he is starting law school this fall. He still has a checkup every six months. But 2006 marks the five-year anniversary of his diagnosis, and his chance of getting testicular cancer again is only 1 percent. Rick has been slow to mention his bout with cancer to new friends. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ve felt embarrassed, even ashamed to talk about it,&amp;quot; he says. &amp;quot;Suddenly, the most private parts of your body are common knowledge.&amp;quot; But recently, he has started to go public; speaking up has become his way of motivating other young men to look for lumps. &amp;quot;A few seconds in the shower saved me months of chemo,&amp;quot; he says, &amp;quot;and maybe even my life.&amp;quot; Keeping boys healthy Because testicular cancer is relatively rare, the American Cancer Society doesn&amp;#039;t formally advise men on how\u2014and how often\u2014to conduct a self-exam. Still, the disease is the most common cancer diagnosed among young men, with peak incidence between the ages of 20 and 25. Cyclist Lance Armstrong ignored a lump on his testicle for months, and by the time he was diagnosed, at age 25, the cancer had spread to his abdomen, lungs, and brain. &amp;quot;Too often, young men assume bumps are caused by sports and never dream that it might be cancer,&amp;quot; says Craig Nichols, M.D., a professor at Oregon Health Sciences University and the doctor who treated Armstrong. For free information on how to do a self-exam, call 800-422-6237 or visit tc-cancer.com/selfexam.html. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/health/a17373/testicular-cancer-apr06/?src=shelter_footer>