My name is Michelle Cappel, and I’m a stage four colorectal cancer patient and survivor. I’m also a fifth-grade teacher, and I’ve been teaching for 17 years, which is one of my greatest passions. Outside of work, I love to stay active, work out, and spend time with my little dog.
For years, I had symptoms, but I didn’t know what they meant. I struggled with chronic constipation and was told it was due to antidepressants. Instead of investigating further, doctors would prescribe more medication to manage the symptoms. Looking back, I realize there were so many warning signs. I even once asked a doctor at a conference if my long-term issues could lead to colorectal cancer, and he said it was possible. Hearing that later made me think that if someone had truly listened earlier, things might have been caught sooner.
I also dealt with recurring hemorrhoids, some of them extremely severe, but again, I was told it was normal due to constipation. It never sat right with me, but I trusted the doctors. I adjusted my diet, increased fiber and water intake, and tried everything recommended, but nothing really improved. I was constantly bloated and was even told I might be gluten sensitive or borderline celiac, so I cut out gluten, yet the symptoms remained.
Eventually, things became much worse. I started experiencing severe abdominal pain, especially during workouts. I used to attend spinning classes, and the pressure from leaning forward made the pain unbearable. At first, I pushed through it, but it got to a point where I could barely walk. Living alone in Houston, I drove myself to the medical center, bent over in pain, trying to decide which emergency room to go to.
At the ER, I was told it was kidney stones, something I had dealt with before, but I knew this pain was different. Still, I was dismissed. Fortunately, I was referred to another doctor who took me seriously. He admitted he didn’t know what was wrong but acted immediately. He gave me his personal contact and arranged urgent appointments with specialists. That moment changed everything.
I was referred to a GI doctor who suspected Crohn’s disease and prescribed medication but also scheduled a colonoscopy. I was 40 at the time, younger than the usual screening age. After the procedure, the doctor told me what he saw was unexpected and severe. It wasn’t clearly explained at first, but later I realized it meant cancer—and not a small one.
Initially, I believed it would be something minor that could be removed easily, but that wasn’t the case. My first oncology consultation was devastating. I was told I would need chemotherapy, surgery, a permanent ostomy, and that I might have only 6 to 12 months to live. I refused to accept that and decided to seek a second opinion from a specialist.
At MD Anderson, everything moved quickly. They repeated all scans—CT, PET, MRI—and confirmed that the cancer had metastasized to my ovary. I had tumors on both sides, meaning it was both colon and rectal cancer. Despite the severity, my new team gave me hope and acted immediately. Within two days, I had a PICC line placed and started chemotherapy.
My treatment plan was intense. I received FOLFOX chemotherapy over weekends so I could continue teaching during the week. The side effects were tough—cold sensitivity, nausea, extreme fatigue, weight loss, and neuropathy. I dropped to about 84 pounds and lost a significant amount of hair, though not all of it. I wore gloves constantly to manage the cold sensitivity and tried to keep functioning as normally as possible.
The fatigue built up over time, making it harder to stay awake and keep up with my students. At one point, I developed severe nerve pain due to a tumor pressing on my spine and needed a nerve block, which helped me regain mobility and get through treatment.
After six months of chemotherapy, I underwent a 12-hour surgery. The doctors initially thought they might not be able to operate due to the extent of the cancer, but they were able to remove everything, including affected lymph nodes and my ovaries. I placed complete trust in my medical team and my faith, believing that whatever would happen was out of my control.
When I was told there was no evidence of disease, it was an incredible relief. However, recovery brought its own challenges. I had an ostomy and found myself on a hospital floor where nurses were unfamiliar with it, which was overwhelming. Still, I tried to maintain a sense of normalcy—doing my hair, putting on makeup, and walking the halls to feel like myself again.
One of the hardest moments came when I was told I wouldn’t receive maintenance chemotherapy. Even though I was cancer-free, I felt like my safety net was being taken away. Living with a stage four diagnosis means constant uncertainty. Every small sensation can feel like the cancer returning.
To cope, I took control of what I could. I researched nutrition, supplements, and lifestyle changes. I stayed active, even working out during chemotherapy with my pump in a backpack. Staying strong physically and mentally became a priority for me.
What surprised me most was how colorectal cancer is changing. It’s no longer just older adults—it affects younger people, different backgrounds, and even those who live healthy lifestyles. I ate well, exercised regularly, and avoided many known risk factors, yet I still developed cancer.
One important thing I’ve learned is that symptoms don’t always follow the rules. I never had bleeding, which many people associate with colorectal cancer. Just because a symptom isn’t “typical” doesn’t mean everything is fine. You have to listen to your body, trust your instincts, and advocate for yourself.
Doctors are important, but you are the one living in your body every day. You have to speak up, ask questions, and push for answers when something doesn’t feel right.
