Today we had a blackout at our house which got me thinking. One of the first things I noticed is how quite it is. Really, is my house this noisy just from electricity running thru the wires and of course things like the refrigerator that are always on. The quite was relaxing, but not having electricity was getting in the way of my plans. Laundry would have to wait, juicing would have to wait, using the vacuum would have to wait. Before I could get mad I realized I really wasn't looking forward to any of that anyway. Just necessary chores that could be rescheduled. It didn't really matter (well in part because I had spoken with the city workers and knew it would be out until around 3pm. Knowing that there is a time limit on any disability makes it much easier to bare).
It started making me think about "A Course in Miracles". A Course in Miracles, is a self-study spiritual thought system that teaches the way to Universal Love through Forgiveness. I didn't do so well in the course though. It starts off with an exercise about things not meaning anything. In fact the first exercise, if I recall correctly is The Chair doesn't mean anything. That was where I got stumped by A Course in Miracles. However the chair that I was focusing on I really liked. A LOT. What can this mean. I love this chair! Perhaps in hindsight I should have taken the course in group form and not attempted the home school version that I clearly wasn't ready for. In a course, group fashion, I would not have been attached to the ugly metal chairs that I would have been forced to sit on and would have been able to see that the chair doesn't mean anything. Now 20 years later I have not achieved universal love through forgiveness. I should have planned better. The funny thing is that now that we have furniture that we both really love (so special in fact that certain pieces have names. Our sofa is Norma, her mate of a chair is Max. We also have the Frankenstein chair and the cat pee chair) and in spite of loving these pieces so much today somehow, I can see that they don't mean anything. Maybe I should order a new copy of the course. Maybe I'm ready. Maybe I have already achieved universal love thru forgiveness (probably not, but now that I think about it I don't feel that I have anything to forgive. The flip side to this is that I should check with my friends and family and see if I need to ask for forgiveness for something I may have done, or most likely some slip of the tongue).
When we examine our lives it is amazing the stuff we find. It has been on my mind that I need to start clearing away the physical clutter of my life to support being more clear of mind (one of the suggestions for people with ADD). Of course I need to start with my garage! packed with all sorts of stuff! A ton of art supplies and boxes upon boxes of books. Kenny loves to blame me for the condition that our garage is in and I used to think that he was so stupid, that half of that stuff was his. I started cleaning the garage a few months back for his birthday and found that almost everything out there is mine. Or as I like to think of it; "ours" at least in the legal sense. One of the other ways I know that I have not achieved perfect enlightenment, is that occasionally, I have an idea of how to milk the situation. I want the clear up the clutter. I have radiation coming up. Maybe I can get Ken to "help" me. The last time I suggested this he shouted that he would just throw everything thing out. Hey, if nothing means anything, maybe that isn't such a bad idea. Provided that I get out of the way.
Yes I know, that I should be making plans to handle all of this on my own and never "milk" Ken. How else will I achieve perfect health and true enlightenment? Maybe Ken will and I can gain the wisdom vicariously. No, that won't work. This is my life, my wisdom. I have to be the one to do the work, but right now all I can think is that it doesn't really matter....
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Weekends
For years I have been in an industry were I worked on the weekends, so the whole excitement of Fridays has eluded me a bit (with the exception of checking my Sister-In-Laws, Gabby's, fun Friday Faceook sticky notes, which I oddly look forward to). Now that I am a stay at home kind of guy life is more of a blur. I couldn't tell you what day of the week it is half of the time. I live with my nose in my I-Phone and have to be diligent at using my calender otherwise, nothing would ever get done. (Well, in reality it would because Ken keeps the backup and manages to be a pretty good handler). But normally life just floats by. It is rather nice actually. I wonder if this is how it used to be before we got crazy about working and acquiring more unnecessary objects. There is a certain Zen to it.
Until this weekend! I am well aware of the fact that today is Sunday the 27th of February! Today is The Oscars! In our house it is a big day! We love film, fashion and food. The 3 corner stones that make The Oscars...well....The Oscars. This year I didn't see half of the films. Come to think of it that isn't anything new. I'm still bringing out the gloves and going to scream at the TV! Roll my eyes when certain douche bag actors exceed the top of the needless pontification scale, and laugh at the fact that everyone there thinks that this is important. In the grand scale of things it isn't. It is just another day where Hollywood has decided to pat itself on the back and I love it! This is the original reality TV if you think about it. You get stars that are top of the mind as they have had films released the previous year. You get Fashion (good and bad, we tend to root for the bad), And you get food! (that you have had to prepare yourself because you weren't invited to the Governors Ball or the new hot ticket Oprah's Ball) It makes for an evening of fun. The Oscars are to the whole of LA, Women and Gay men everywhere what the Superbowl is to the rest of the country. (Hopefully for some of you who have no desire to watch that will put it in perspective)
This year is a bit different. I'm still watching, still rolling my eyes, still laughing, but this year my food will be of a liquid nature! In a time of so many changes, it is nice to only have one minor change on one of my favorite nights of the year! Tomorrow it will be back to research, doctors appointments and prepping for radiation and chemotherapy, but that is then and this is now! Tonight we live with the stars!
Until this weekend! I am well aware of the fact that today is Sunday the 27th of February! Today is The Oscars! In our house it is a big day! We love film, fashion and food. The 3 corner stones that make The Oscars...well....The Oscars. This year I didn't see half of the films. Come to think of it that isn't anything new. I'm still bringing out the gloves and going to scream at the TV! Roll my eyes when certain douche bag actors exceed the top of the needless pontification scale, and laugh at the fact that everyone there thinks that this is important. In the grand scale of things it isn't. It is just another day where Hollywood has decided to pat itself on the back and I love it! This is the original reality TV if you think about it. You get stars that are top of the mind as they have had films released the previous year. You get Fashion (good and bad, we tend to root for the bad), And you get food! (that you have had to prepare yourself because you weren't invited to the Governors Ball or the new hot ticket Oprah's Ball) It makes for an evening of fun. The Oscars are to the whole of LA, Women and Gay men everywhere what the Superbowl is to the rest of the country. (Hopefully for some of you who have no desire to watch that will put it in perspective)
This year is a bit different. I'm still watching, still rolling my eyes, still laughing, but this year my food will be of a liquid nature! In a time of so many changes, it is nice to only have one minor change on one of my favorite nights of the year! Tomorrow it will be back to research, doctors appointments and prepping for radiation and chemotherapy, but that is then and this is now! Tonight we live with the stars!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
You are what you eat...
We all know that phrase. I remember hearing it in elementary school in the 60's! Yet, it seems that our country forgot the importance of nutrition. We have replaced healthy eating with quick, easy microwavable meals. Processed so far down that the foods in the box taste nothing like what they are supposed to. For a long time, health food stores and food collectives were considered a haven for tree hugging hippies or the terminally ill trying any last ditch effort on their way to the grave.
Some things have gotten better, such as the introduction of organic produce into most supermarkets, Farmers Markets becoming important and far more accessible in our communities. Those are good changes, but in sharp contrast look at the levels of obesity (child to adult). Diabetes on the rise. Several cancers on the rise. We are not getting the message! And worse sometimes there is no message. After my surgery, I was on a feeding tube until I learned to swallow. When I was taken off of it, my doctor gave me a list of things that I could drink, one of them being soda. I remember being shocked! You would have to be raised under a rock to not know that soda is not a healthy choice. But after asking some questions it became clearer that there was in fact no message to hear. I asked several nutritional questions and got the following responses. Eat enough calories and protein. OK....Is that all? You can take a multi vitamin if you want to.
In the book, Beating Cancer with Nutrition, by Patrick Quillin, PhD, RD, CNS on of the most surprising statistics to me was that over 40% of cancer patients actually die from malnutrition not the cancer itself. Reading further into the book, and I wasn't as shocked because it is revealed that the top 3 vegetables in America are Ketchup French Fries and Onion Rings. Follow that with the fact the 2 of the top 10 grocery items were cigarettes (some of the other items included processed cheese and soda). I don't really think I grew up that much differently than the rest of the world, but I have always believed in proper nutrition. Believed in being the operative words here. I didn't end up going to weight watchers because I was eating a perfect diet. But I knew that upon receiving my diagnosis, nutrition was going to factor quite heavily into my survival. I have no plans on shaking up my world and going crazy with it. I believe that moderation is the key to success. Especially for me. If I did nothing but juice, eat raw foods and work out, the pendulum would eventually swing, knocking me into the nearest Mexican restaurant where the binge would begin. Later Ken would find me moaning under pizza delivery boxes and tubs of Popeye's fried chicken and the process would have to start all over again. Better not to take that route.
Our insurance is thru Kaiser, which I love. They are a very proactive company. Work to help people get healthy thru quiting smoking, exercise and nutrition. My question to them, is where is all of that when someone actually gets a disease, especially one as serious as cancer? Now it feels that we are left alone to figure this out (or not, as I am sure so many people end up doing. My doctor didn't say anything about nutrition and cancer so why should I worry?) Thank God, that I had an amazing group of people step up with information and advice from the very beginning. I had know people who's story with cancer I'd never heard until my diagnosis and have had others introduced to me. I call them my "Survival Team". (and a little teaser here, I have talked to some of them about contributing to this blog. Their storey's have touched and guided me and I can't wait to share them with everyone).
We are all here on this planet just trying to figure it out. In times of health or disease, we go on the best way we can. The thing here is that the times of disease remind you that you need to get it figured out as soon as possible or miss out on the health. So I read, study, Google search, pray and most of all get by with a little help from my friends!
Some things have gotten better, such as the introduction of organic produce into most supermarkets, Farmers Markets becoming important and far more accessible in our communities. Those are good changes, but in sharp contrast look at the levels of obesity (child to adult). Diabetes on the rise. Several cancers on the rise. We are not getting the message! And worse sometimes there is no message. After my surgery, I was on a feeding tube until I learned to swallow. When I was taken off of it, my doctor gave me a list of things that I could drink, one of them being soda. I remember being shocked! You would have to be raised under a rock to not know that soda is not a healthy choice. But after asking some questions it became clearer that there was in fact no message to hear. I asked several nutritional questions and got the following responses. Eat enough calories and protein. OK....Is that all? You can take a multi vitamin if you want to.
In the book, Beating Cancer with Nutrition, by Patrick Quillin, PhD, RD, CNS on of the most surprising statistics to me was that over 40% of cancer patients actually die from malnutrition not the cancer itself. Reading further into the book, and I wasn't as shocked because it is revealed that the top 3 vegetables in America are Ketchup French Fries and Onion Rings. Follow that with the fact the 2 of the top 10 grocery items were cigarettes (some of the other items included processed cheese and soda). I don't really think I grew up that much differently than the rest of the world, but I have always believed in proper nutrition. Believed in being the operative words here. I didn't end up going to weight watchers because I was eating a perfect diet. But I knew that upon receiving my diagnosis, nutrition was going to factor quite heavily into my survival. I have no plans on shaking up my world and going crazy with it. I believe that moderation is the key to success. Especially for me. If I did nothing but juice, eat raw foods and work out, the pendulum would eventually swing, knocking me into the nearest Mexican restaurant where the binge would begin. Later Ken would find me moaning under pizza delivery boxes and tubs of Popeye's fried chicken and the process would have to start all over again. Better not to take that route.
Our insurance is thru Kaiser, which I love. They are a very proactive company. Work to help people get healthy thru quiting smoking, exercise and nutrition. My question to them, is where is all of that when someone actually gets a disease, especially one as serious as cancer? Now it feels that we are left alone to figure this out (or not, as I am sure so many people end up doing. My doctor didn't say anything about nutrition and cancer so why should I worry?) Thank God, that I had an amazing group of people step up with information and advice from the very beginning. I had know people who's story with cancer I'd never heard until my diagnosis and have had others introduced to me. I call them my "Survival Team". (and a little teaser here, I have talked to some of them about contributing to this blog. Their storey's have touched and guided me and I can't wait to share them with everyone).
We are all here on this planet just trying to figure it out. In times of health or disease, we go on the best way we can. The thing here is that the times of disease remind you that you need to get it figured out as soon as possible or miss out on the health. So I read, study, Google search, pray and most of all get by with a little help from my friends!
Friday, February 25, 2011
What else do you want?
Cancer is brutal! We all know that although we don't know why unless we have had a personal experience with the big C or someone close to us has. Baring witness or living thru it is the only way to truly understand what it is. The physical pain, the emotional pain. Watching the concern on your loved ones face mirror back your own fears. Most of the time you can't believe that this is really happening to you. One doctors appointment after another each coming with a new set of concerns. How is that for a lead in for today?
I think I've mentioned it before, but this morning I had to drive up to UCLA Medical Center to see the "cancer" dentist. As I am learning there are dental concerns for radiation/chemotherapy patients. My last doctor mentioned that they usually have to pull some teeth which really set me off (and prompted me to post the following on facebook:
I think I've mentioned it before, but this morning I had to drive up to UCLA Medical Center to see the "cancer" dentist. As I am learning there are dental concerns for radiation/chemotherapy patients. My last doctor mentioned that they usually have to pull some teeth which really set me off (and prompted me to post the following on facebook:
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Mother said that there would be days like this...
This should have been a great day. I slept very well (I did a four hour stretch which is new, post surgery) and was able to stay in bed until 8:30 am. Ken quietly got up and fed the dogs, fish and rabbit and started cleaning. I woke up to only having to figure out what to feed myself and shower. That's when things started to go a bit off.
Before any surgery the doctors list the risks involved, Dr Oh, was no exception. One of the risks was severing a nerve in my neck that controlled the muscles in my face. It could distort your smile he warned. After surgery, one of the first things that I did was to check and see how my lip was moving and decided that all was fine. However, in the weeks that have followed, I have realized that I have no feeling from approximately the center to bottom of my ear and down and around my jaw to just before my chin. Once again all on the right side. I had brought some of this up to doctors who's typical response is that it could be permanent or the swelling could be blocking the nerve and it will mend over time (my favorite scenario) or in the years to come the nerves could "find their connections and rewire" (OK, not my favorite, but an acceptable plan B). This morning while brushing my teeth, I realized that even though my lower lip has most of it's mobility, I can no longer form an O. Lower lip will go up but not down. Great, so now I'm going to have a lop sided smile (yes, I checked. I smiled into the mirror for several minutes). Ran calm down I told myself! Think about the people who have had so much worse than you. Think about the guy you always see when you go to the Radiologist who has had both of his legs amputated. I bet he would be more than happy to trade places with you. That may all be true, but I'm dealing with me! I have faced this challenge head on. Said to the Universe "Bring it on, because I am going to beat this!" I just wanted to do it with a smile on my face. MY SMILE! Not some lopsided smile that was caused by a slip.
My shallow side got me to wondering,though, would other people faced with adversity willing change places with someone else if it meant giving up what they had learned? Would Steven Hawking trade places with some hot guy with a 75 IQ just to get laid? (keep in mind that there is no going back in this scenario). And is it even shallow to want what I was born with? (even if I did change my nose). I decided to turn my mind off and went and made a smoothie and figured out what time we would need to leave in order to be in Hollywood on time for my appointment. Kenny packed a bag of snacks and water, I grabbed my Kindle and we took off. Traffic wasn't so bad, we got to the appointment early. Cool, I can read I thought. Then the nurse called for me. I got checked in and was placed in an exam room. Cool I can read. Then the doctor dropped by to let me know he was in a meeting and would be running late. Cool, I can read. Then Ken started in. Can you hand me the bag, can I get a tissue, do you want some water? Actually, I did, the room was quite hot. Finally the doctor came in to go over my treatments. As it turns out, I am only having two doses of Chemotherapy. Very low in concentration with only minimal side effects. Cool! I get to keep my hair!
I asked the doctor if he could have a nurse remove the staple from my arm, that the surgeon forgot. Not a problem. He went off to order nausea meds and take care of that. We sat around in the room. Kenny ate an apple and I realized that he had not packed anything for me (still on a liquid diet). I am a big boy and can pack my own lunches. I know that, but if Ken was going to pack snacks and water, doesn't it seem reasonable that he would pack something for me? Now I was irritable. In part, because it was 2:00pm and I hadn't eaten since 9:00 am and in part because my amazing caretaker dropped the ball. Then the doctor came back with the prescriptions and told us that we would have to go to a different facility down the street to get the staple removed, but his nurse had called ahead and set it up and they were waiting. OK so we could grab the meds and take a nice walk (past the Scientology Center. That place really gives me excited creeps). When we got to our destination, it turned out that the nurse had not called ahead, so I would have to wait. Cool, I can read. I no more than turned my Kindle on before I was called back up. Sorry, you'll need to be seen by a doctor. For what? Oh and You'll need to make a specialist co-pay to see the doctor. For what? So someone with more education that I have can look at my arm and tell me what I already know, that the surgeon forgot to remove a staple? Never mind! Suddenly I was really angry! In fact that is the first time I have felt angry since my diagnosis. (those of you who know me know that I bitch on a daily basis, so this new found zen state has been nothing short of miraculous!) Why were people harshing my mellow? I just want the frickin staple taken out. I was ready to grab a pair of nippers and take it out myself at that point. I grabbed Ken and marched towards the elevator. Once in I tried to calm myself down. Unfortunately it was such a short ride that the door opened before I could. There were about 10 people waiting for the elevator and instead of letting us off decided to charge it like the passengers of the MUNI in San Francisco at rush hour). God! Now we had to walk back to the parking structure (past the Church of Scientology and NO I DON"T WANT A STUPID INVITATION TO YOUR CRAZY FILM THAT WILL CHANGE MY LIFE!) I just want to get in the car and go home. But no! We have to stop by the nursery for water plants for the fountain so the fish will have a hiding place. Fine make it fast. Then by the In-Laws. Fine make it fast! (we did) Finally, at home I was able to grab a protein drink and put something into my stomach. Much better!
All in all, still not a bad day, just not the day I was expecting. Actually it was the day I was expecting, minus the anger. It seems that I have been in a bit of a protective cocoon for the past month. A wonderful place where people think of my needs and I feel content and never once angry. It then occurred to me. Mother said that there would be days like this. She was speaking of life. If I can handle cancer surly I can handle of few mishaps and maybe a meal along the way. I have to remember that I jumped into this ready to take it on and take on anything else that got in my way as well! What can I say? I turn into a DIVA when I get hungry? No Ran, toughen up. Your going to need it for the fight ahead! Oh and spoiler alert, I will be ready! Maybe whiny, maybe angry, maybe even a DIVA but defiantly ready!
Before any surgery the doctors list the risks involved, Dr Oh, was no exception. One of the risks was severing a nerve in my neck that controlled the muscles in my face. It could distort your smile he warned. After surgery, one of the first things that I did was to check and see how my lip was moving and decided that all was fine. However, in the weeks that have followed, I have realized that I have no feeling from approximately the center to bottom of my ear and down and around my jaw to just before my chin. Once again all on the right side. I had brought some of this up to doctors who's typical response is that it could be permanent or the swelling could be blocking the nerve and it will mend over time (my favorite scenario) or in the years to come the nerves could "find their connections and rewire" (OK, not my favorite, but an acceptable plan B). This morning while brushing my teeth, I realized that even though my lower lip has most of it's mobility, I can no longer form an O. Lower lip will go up but not down. Great, so now I'm going to have a lop sided smile (yes, I checked. I smiled into the mirror for several minutes). Ran calm down I told myself! Think about the people who have had so much worse than you. Think about the guy you always see when you go to the Radiologist who has had both of his legs amputated. I bet he would be more than happy to trade places with you. That may all be true, but I'm dealing with me! I have faced this challenge head on. Said to the Universe "Bring it on, because I am going to beat this!" I just wanted to do it with a smile on my face. MY SMILE! Not some lopsided smile that was caused by a slip.
My shallow side got me to wondering,though, would other people faced with adversity willing change places with someone else if it meant giving up what they had learned? Would Steven Hawking trade places with some hot guy with a 75 IQ just to get laid? (keep in mind that there is no going back in this scenario). And is it even shallow to want what I was born with? (even if I did change my nose). I decided to turn my mind off and went and made a smoothie and figured out what time we would need to leave in order to be in Hollywood on time for my appointment. Kenny packed a bag of snacks and water, I grabbed my Kindle and we took off. Traffic wasn't so bad, we got to the appointment early. Cool, I can read I thought. Then the nurse called for me. I got checked in and was placed in an exam room. Cool I can read. Then the doctor dropped by to let me know he was in a meeting and would be running late. Cool, I can read. Then Ken started in. Can you hand me the bag, can I get a tissue, do you want some water? Actually, I did, the room was quite hot. Finally the doctor came in to go over my treatments. As it turns out, I am only having two doses of Chemotherapy. Very low in concentration with only minimal side effects. Cool! I get to keep my hair!
I asked the doctor if he could have a nurse remove the staple from my arm, that the surgeon forgot. Not a problem. He went off to order nausea meds and take care of that. We sat around in the room. Kenny ate an apple and I realized that he had not packed anything for me (still on a liquid diet). I am a big boy and can pack my own lunches. I know that, but if Ken was going to pack snacks and water, doesn't it seem reasonable that he would pack something for me? Now I was irritable. In part, because it was 2:00pm and I hadn't eaten since 9:00 am and in part because my amazing caretaker dropped the ball. Then the doctor came back with the prescriptions and told us that we would have to go to a different facility down the street to get the staple removed, but his nurse had called ahead and set it up and they were waiting. OK so we could grab the meds and take a nice walk (past the Scientology Center. That place really gives me excited creeps). When we got to our destination, it turned out that the nurse had not called ahead, so I would have to wait. Cool, I can read. I no more than turned my Kindle on before I was called back up. Sorry, you'll need to be seen by a doctor. For what? Oh and You'll need to make a specialist co-pay to see the doctor. For what? So someone with more education that I have can look at my arm and tell me what I already know, that the surgeon forgot to remove a staple? Never mind! Suddenly I was really angry! In fact that is the first time I have felt angry since my diagnosis. (those of you who know me know that I bitch on a daily basis, so this new found zen state has been nothing short of miraculous!) Why were people harshing my mellow? I just want the frickin staple taken out. I was ready to grab a pair of nippers and take it out myself at that point. I grabbed Ken and marched towards the elevator. Once in I tried to calm myself down. Unfortunately it was such a short ride that the door opened before I could. There were about 10 people waiting for the elevator and instead of letting us off decided to charge it like the passengers of the MUNI in San Francisco at rush hour). God! Now we had to walk back to the parking structure (past the Church of Scientology and NO I DON"T WANT A STUPID INVITATION TO YOUR CRAZY FILM THAT WILL CHANGE MY LIFE!) I just want to get in the car and go home. But no! We have to stop by the nursery for water plants for the fountain so the fish will have a hiding place. Fine make it fast. Then by the In-Laws. Fine make it fast! (we did) Finally, at home I was able to grab a protein drink and put something into my stomach. Much better!
All in all, still not a bad day, just not the day I was expecting. Actually it was the day I was expecting, minus the anger. It seems that I have been in a bit of a protective cocoon for the past month. A wonderful place where people think of my needs and I feel content and never once angry. It then occurred to me. Mother said that there would be days like this. She was speaking of life. If I can handle cancer surly I can handle of few mishaps and maybe a meal along the way. I have to remember that I jumped into this ready to take it on and take on anything else that got in my way as well! What can I say? I turn into a DIVA when I get hungry? No Ran, toughen up. Your going to need it for the fight ahead! Oh and spoiler alert, I will be ready! Maybe whiny, maybe angry, maybe even a DIVA but defiantly ready!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Man am I bored!
How many times have we said that in our lives? Much of the time when we are saying it or thinking it, though, it would be so much easier to get up and go for a walk or find something to do to occupy our time. Boredom, it seems, has become a national pass time. Symptoms include channel surfing, avoiding cleaning (fill in the blank), not answering the phone when it rings (oh, they'll just bore me). etc. Combine this with our limited attention span (Somewhere proof exists that the average America's attention span is akin to that of a flea!) We bore easily because we have moved on and need more stimulation or input. I remember a friend of mine whining because the networks were still focused on 9/11 4 weeks after the towers had come down. "Really?" he said. "Didn't we have a high speed car chase or anything. I'm so sick of this". That was a defining moment to me. A. I probably needed deeper friends, and B. I was just as shallow.
Well, years have passed and here I am. This morning I was about to do some research when it hit me. Man, am I bored with cancer. I'm bored with reading about it, talking about it, writing about it, researching treatments. Cancer, cancer, cancer! I'm done! Being one of millions of Americans with ADD, typically at this point, I would put the books away, clear the cookies from my computer, and move on. Find something else shiny to occupy my time. One problem though. I still have cancer. Man this sucks! I still have to drink raw juices (Thanks for the juicer, Dad, it is amazing!) take care of myself, exercise. Keep my mind active. Write about it daily and worst of all prep for and then go thru chemotherapy and radiation.
Funny little thing about the Chemo and radiation. Upon my diagnosis, I secretly decided to go thru the surgery, get the cancer removed and then take care of the aftermath using only natural cures. I finally admitted this to my partner Ken, who showing no emotion, said, "Lets see the Radiologist and here what they have to say". What? Ken is fascinated with nutrition and wholistic. I have been forced to sit thru countless episodes of Dr. Oz and other "fascinating" shows on the miracles of nutrition. What is this sudden lack of emotion? I also, tested the waters with my In-Laws and saw the concern in their eyes. I finally came to the conclusion, that ultimately this may be my health and my decision, however, there are other people with vested interests in my well being and I owed it to them to hear them out. I decided to call a family conference to discuss the matter with Ken and his parents and my Dad and Doris (The coolest step mom on the planet) Finally, detecting something was wrong with Ken, I pushed him. "OK, so out with it. I need to hear what your thinking!" "I think that if your going to do that then you shouldn't have bothered with the operation. You need to finish this!" Wow, OK, not exactly what I was expecting. But at least I now knew where he stood. I also reached out to some of my pals who have been on this journey much longer than I to see what they had to say.
I didn't sleep that night. For one thing, this was right after I has come home and still had the trech and feeding tube. I was forced to sleep on my back which is next to impossible for side sleeper me. Combine being uncomfortable with all that was going on in my mind and I had a recipe for a long night. I listened to my stubborn self saying come on we can do this! I thought about what was motivating Ken. I knew Steve and Ruthie (my In-Laws) both have scientific backgrounds so I knew that they would want me to take the western medical route. Ken had already brought my revelation up to Doris, who basically said I was crazy so I knew where she stood. I just wasn't sure where my Dad would stand. Finally, it hit me. Statistically (and yes, I hate statistics, but I really needed something) I stood a better chance of survival if I had the treatments that were being proposed. Was having my way important right now, especially if it meant I would be alive to get my own way countless times in the future? What if (and at this point I was only saying what if) I had chemo and radiation, but used wholistics and all of the information that I could find to reduce symptoms and speed up healing time? That could work! Ken squirmed around in bed and I could tell he was having a difficult time sleeping as well. Then it hit me. He must really be afraid. More than anyone in the world, he is the one who really wants to see me in remission! You have to do this! OK, mind was made up. I informed both him and my doctor the next day (I had already brought up my plan with my doctor, who wasn't overly pleased but promised to support me although it would mean a lot more follow up!) Ken did seem relieved and somehow renewed. His part in my healing has become more and more clear over the past couple of weeks as he has been reading all of the dry nutrition books that would put me to sleep in a second.
So here I am. Taking very good care of myself. Trying to do a little more each day in terms of exercise, taking care of the house and expanding my mind. GOD I'm bored! I hate to keep saying it, but I want something shiny and new. Of course, I'm sure all of our men and women serving our country would like to have something shiny and new too! If they can do it, I can do it. I am glad that they are there defending us and ultimately defending my right to be bored!
Well, years have passed and here I am. This morning I was about to do some research when it hit me. Man, am I bored with cancer. I'm bored with reading about it, talking about it, writing about it, researching treatments. Cancer, cancer, cancer! I'm done! Being one of millions of Americans with ADD, typically at this point, I would put the books away, clear the cookies from my computer, and move on. Find something else shiny to occupy my time. One problem though. I still have cancer. Man this sucks! I still have to drink raw juices (Thanks for the juicer, Dad, it is amazing!) take care of myself, exercise. Keep my mind active. Write about it daily and worst of all prep for and then go thru chemotherapy and radiation.
Funny little thing about the Chemo and radiation. Upon my diagnosis, I secretly decided to go thru the surgery, get the cancer removed and then take care of the aftermath using only natural cures. I finally admitted this to my partner Ken, who showing no emotion, said, "Lets see the Radiologist and here what they have to say". What? Ken is fascinated with nutrition and wholistic. I have been forced to sit thru countless episodes of Dr. Oz and other "fascinating" shows on the miracles of nutrition. What is this sudden lack of emotion? I also, tested the waters with my In-Laws and saw the concern in their eyes. I finally came to the conclusion, that ultimately this may be my health and my decision, however, there are other people with vested interests in my well being and I owed it to them to hear them out. I decided to call a family conference to discuss the matter with Ken and his parents and my Dad and Doris (The coolest step mom on the planet) Finally, detecting something was wrong with Ken, I pushed him. "OK, so out with it. I need to hear what your thinking!" "I think that if your going to do that then you shouldn't have bothered with the operation. You need to finish this!" Wow, OK, not exactly what I was expecting. But at least I now knew where he stood. I also reached out to some of my pals who have been on this journey much longer than I to see what they had to say.
I didn't sleep that night. For one thing, this was right after I has come home and still had the trech and feeding tube. I was forced to sleep on my back which is next to impossible for side sleeper me. Combine being uncomfortable with all that was going on in my mind and I had a recipe for a long night. I listened to my stubborn self saying come on we can do this! I thought about what was motivating Ken. I knew Steve and Ruthie (my In-Laws) both have scientific backgrounds so I knew that they would want me to take the western medical route. Ken had already brought my revelation up to Doris, who basically said I was crazy so I knew where she stood. I just wasn't sure where my Dad would stand. Finally, it hit me. Statistically (and yes, I hate statistics, but I really needed something) I stood a better chance of survival if I had the treatments that were being proposed. Was having my way important right now, especially if it meant I would be alive to get my own way countless times in the future? What if (and at this point I was only saying what if) I had chemo and radiation, but used wholistics and all of the information that I could find to reduce symptoms and speed up healing time? That could work! Ken squirmed around in bed and I could tell he was having a difficult time sleeping as well. Then it hit me. He must really be afraid. More than anyone in the world, he is the one who really wants to see me in remission! You have to do this! OK, mind was made up. I informed both him and my doctor the next day (I had already brought up my plan with my doctor, who wasn't overly pleased but promised to support me although it would mean a lot more follow up!) Ken did seem relieved and somehow renewed. His part in my healing has become more and more clear over the past couple of weeks as he has been reading all of the dry nutrition books that would put me to sleep in a second.
So here I am. Taking very good care of myself. Trying to do a little more each day in terms of exercise, taking care of the house and expanding my mind. GOD I'm bored! I hate to keep saying it, but I want something shiny and new. Of course, I'm sure all of our men and women serving our country would like to have something shiny and new too! If they can do it, I can do it. I am glad that they are there defending us and ultimately defending my right to be bored!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
driven to drive
It's only been three weeks since my surgery, just a additional weeks since the cancer diagnosis, but in the whirlwind I have been driven around by my partner. Nothing really new as he usually drives (he likes to control the music). In just a short time span however, I have felt chained down. Glued to the house. Finally, today in what almost felt like an act of defiance, I drove my truck! Upon opening the door, I smelled the stale air from the little Toyota being closed up. I even toyed with the idea of having her washed. It was just a short drive, but as I backed out into the street I suddenly felt free. I made it to Starbucks without incident, got my latte and drove home. I think I will always remember that drive! I love the quite in my truck. I rarely turn the music on. Something soothing of just the sound of the air and road. In fact the only time I ever turn on music in my truck is when I'm obsessing about something. It keeps me from focusing on my obsession and is therefore welcome.
It made me wonder about other things though. What else am I missing? I don't have an answer for that at this point, just a question to the universe. One of the things I have always felt about having cancer is that it is a great motivator for second chances. It is time to change my couch potato lifestyle. I believe that Ken would like the change as well, but we find ourselves in the same rut. "What would you like to do?" "I don't know". I'm not sure if the problem is of a geographic nature (I have never really loved living in Long Beach, and don't find it to be particularly stimulating as I found San Diego or New Orleans). So what do you do when you don't know what you want to do? I am so tired of finding that the answer for the both of us is watch TV. Television seems to be a mindless trap. While you can watch a film, it will never stimulate your mind the way that reading the book instead would.
Perhaps a challenge of how long we can go without television is in order. I don't have the answers here, but am quite sure that I need to start coming up with something. I want a fulfilling life. I believe that finding it is part of the overall cure. The challenge here is just to be open. Open to suggestions, pen to invitations, and ultimately open to trying new things. Tonight, for example, we are going to a meeting that will allow us to start attending support groups. That's new. The advice I have been given is go 3 times and then if you think it's not for you, quit. I wish someone had told me that about 12 step programs. Two years of listening to people complain to get to the point that I didn't really need it. (No matter what the other members said when they called me trying to get me to come back). As it has turned out, I got what I needed and didn't need it any longer. The experience for me was like finally trading on old car in and driving off the lot in a new one. The old one (old ways) got me to a certain point. The new one (new attitude, new thought, new found peace of mind) would take me further and in more comfort. So it seems that right now I'm in need of a new spiritual vehicle! Time to drive!
It made me wonder about other things though. What else am I missing? I don't have an answer for that at this point, just a question to the universe. One of the things I have always felt about having cancer is that it is a great motivator for second chances. It is time to change my couch potato lifestyle. I believe that Ken would like the change as well, but we find ourselves in the same rut. "What would you like to do?" "I don't know". I'm not sure if the problem is of a geographic nature (I have never really loved living in Long Beach, and don't find it to be particularly stimulating as I found San Diego or New Orleans). So what do you do when you don't know what you want to do? I am so tired of finding that the answer for the both of us is watch TV. Television seems to be a mindless trap. While you can watch a film, it will never stimulate your mind the way that reading the book instead would.
Perhaps a challenge of how long we can go without television is in order. I don't have the answers here, but am quite sure that I need to start coming up with something. I want a fulfilling life. I believe that finding it is part of the overall cure. The challenge here is just to be open. Open to suggestions, pen to invitations, and ultimately open to trying new things. Tonight, for example, we are going to a meeting that will allow us to start attending support groups. That's new. The advice I have been given is go 3 times and then if you think it's not for you, quit. I wish someone had told me that about 12 step programs. Two years of listening to people complain to get to the point that I didn't really need it. (No matter what the other members said when they called me trying to get me to come back). As it has turned out, I got what I needed and didn't need it any longer. The experience for me was like finally trading on old car in and driving off the lot in a new one. The old one (old ways) got me to a certain point. The new one (new attitude, new thought, new found peace of mind) would take me further and in more comfort. So it seems that right now I'm in need of a new spiritual vehicle! Time to drive!
Monday, February 21, 2011
The Honeymoon is Over!
We all know that phrase. It applies to marriage, jobs, new cars and now, as I am finding out, to healing. It is in no way a bad thing though. The honeymoon is over speaks to reality setting in. The day in your relationship where you feel comfortably taken for granted for the first time. In careers it is the day you realize that you need to stop asking questions and carry your weight. For cars it usually comes around the time when you get your first ding in the door and start relaxing a bit. In healing it is a bit different. It comes the day that your caretakers have had it. Get your own water! Make your own lunch (or in my case, open your own can of protein drink), was your own sheets, walk the dogs, feed the fish. On an on until your doing your full share.
It doesn't matter whether or not you feel your ready for it. It only matters that your caretaker caught you being independent and now expects that of you.I do need to add here that Ken has been nothing short of a perfect saint and a wonderful caretaker during my recovery. So much so that I suggested that he has missed his calling and may want to go back to school. I was informed that he was able to do this because he loved me! (and therefore does not feel inclined in the least to share his sainthood with the rest of the world). The time has come for the momma bird to kick you out of the nest so to speak, and you'd better fly, because no one is giving you any other options. The world is an oyster and your friends want you in it with them. There are movies to be seen, walks to be taken. Yoga classes to be discovered. Books to be read and shared and discussed. Your co-workers want you back. In short life is calling you. "Come and play"!
It doesn't matter that my doctor has extended my disability until August 1st of this year. Define disability! I have 3 weeks before I start chemo/radiation. It has been made perfectly clear to me that those 3 weeks are to be used to get myself into better shape, use nutrition to support my healing, learn to meditate so that I can get thru the treatments with the least amount of side effects. Oh and while I'm at it keep the house clean, deal with the finances, do laundry, feed the pets, cook and juice, work on my blog and my book that I have started. In short, I'll be working full time. An why not? Laying around can only do so much to heal the body. It's when we get up off the couch or bed and get back in the game that we truly start to live. Yes there may be aches and pains. My neck still does not have it's full range of motion.but each day is easier that the previous one. At this point, I barely remember the struggle. All of this is as it should be! If life were just one big honeymoon, how could we possibly appreciate the good times? Of course as I ask myself that, these times feel pretty good! Sure, I've been thru a frightening diagnosis, surgery, healing, and am looking at more treatment, but it hasn't been bad. I have been showered with love and prayer and light. My girlfriend, Carolyn light candles at the Vatican for me! When I think about the love and the prayers, I am overwhelmed! How could I not be content? Most importantly, how could I not survive?
It doesn't matter whether or not you feel your ready for it. It only matters that your caretaker caught you being independent and now expects that of you.I do need to add here that Ken has been nothing short of a perfect saint and a wonderful caretaker during my recovery. So much so that I suggested that he has missed his calling and may want to go back to school. I was informed that he was able to do this because he loved me! (and therefore does not feel inclined in the least to share his sainthood with the rest of the world). The time has come for the momma bird to kick you out of the nest so to speak, and you'd better fly, because no one is giving you any other options. The world is an oyster and your friends want you in it with them. There are movies to be seen, walks to be taken. Yoga classes to be discovered. Books to be read and shared and discussed. Your co-workers want you back. In short life is calling you. "Come and play"!
It doesn't matter that my doctor has extended my disability until August 1st of this year. Define disability! I have 3 weeks before I start chemo/radiation. It has been made perfectly clear to me that those 3 weeks are to be used to get myself into better shape, use nutrition to support my healing, learn to meditate so that I can get thru the treatments with the least amount of side effects. Oh and while I'm at it keep the house clean, deal with the finances, do laundry, feed the pets, cook and juice, work on my blog and my book that I have started. In short, I'll be working full time. An why not? Laying around can only do so much to heal the body. It's when we get up off the couch or bed and get back in the game that we truly start to live. Yes there may be aches and pains. My neck still does not have it's full range of motion.but each day is easier that the previous one. At this point, I barely remember the struggle. All of this is as it should be! If life were just one big honeymoon, how could we possibly appreciate the good times? Of course as I ask myself that, these times feel pretty good! Sure, I've been thru a frightening diagnosis, surgery, healing, and am looking at more treatment, but it hasn't been bad. I have been showered with love and prayer and light. My girlfriend, Carolyn light candles at the Vatican for me! When I think about the love and the prayers, I am overwhelmed! How could I not be content? Most importantly, how could I not survive?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Moderation
The mind is amazing and still something of a mystery. Always at work to some end, and yet, I wonder while writing this, to what end. I don't know how I got here. It has been years since I have felt this way, But right now, I am truly content! I'm not even sure what I'm writing about today. Just sitting here on the bed, with the dogs and laptop, I have so little to say. Amazing how in a few weeks I have gone from newly diagnosed, to healing and right now in this moment, fully content.
What brought me here? Was it the erotic dream I had this morning. Spending time with one of my best friends? Just being about to get around on my own? Who knows. On thing is certain thought, this too will pass. Soon I'll find myself dealing with doctors, dentists, radiologists and everyone else that a cancer patient has to deal with. In this moment however, I don't care about any of that. I don't care about the cancer. This is nice! So whether my clever mind arranged this in order to deal with stress, or I'm just having a great day makes no difference to me at all.
So what does make a difference? I like knowing that I am working to direct my own healing. For me it breaks down into only 3 components. Body, Mind and Spirit. Heal each of the 3 and you heal yourself. It can get overwhelming from time to time, and there will be mistakes made along the way (lattes while on a liquid diet for example.) The body standpoint is the most confusing to me right now. There is just so much information out there you don't really know where to turn. Just like dieting, there are just as many philosophies when it comes to health, especially the health of a cancer patient as there are diet books on amazon.com. I have started to turn to cancer survivors to filter the information thru. I figured they already figured out something that would work for them and perhaps it would give me just a boost. My friend Laura gave me probably some of the best advice that I have had to date. MODERATION! She was telling me about people who went on with their lives and stayed in remission, while others who had become overly positive or had gone off the deep end in terms of healthy nutrition, ran daily didn't stay in remission and became very bitter and confused.
That spoke to me! I can be compulsive. I like to win. I am determined to beat this. My new juicer should arrive tomorrow, and we spent big on fruit and veggies today so that I could remove it from the box and begin juicing right away. I have read so much on raw diets, juicing, detoxing and have geared up to become healthier than ever before. Laura's words were so powerful to me because how many times had I done something like this? The year I bought a sewing machine and made 75 custom Christmas stockings for friends, only to have a sewing machine take up room in my closet for the years that followed. I love projects. I've started thousands some finished and some not. This is not a project that I can afford not to finish however. When I think about it I hate the idea of depriving myself. I love Mexican food. OK, Ran, you can have it in Moderation. That doesn't sound too bad.
There is more to healing. It affects not just the body, but mind and spirit as well. Working up a game plan of things that I would like to try and feel that I may be able to stick with is work. I don't believe that I am alone in this. I have read amazing stories of healing that surprised doctors to the point that they were called miracles. I have also read stories of people who's death shocked the doctors because by all rights they should be alive. I believe in God. I do not however, believe that God gave me cancer. I believe that God gave me free will and with that will I can cure the cancer. It is ultimately up to me. Questioning my doctors is part of that. Taking to survivors is part of that. Kenny reading books on nutrition to help me figure out the next step and my overall plan is part of that. But, as Laura, suggested, in moderation. In the mean time I have a life to live and live it I will!
What brought me here? Was it the erotic dream I had this morning. Spending time with one of my best friends? Just being about to get around on my own? Who knows. On thing is certain thought, this too will pass. Soon I'll find myself dealing with doctors, dentists, radiologists and everyone else that a cancer patient has to deal with. In this moment however, I don't care about any of that. I don't care about the cancer. This is nice! So whether my clever mind arranged this in order to deal with stress, or I'm just having a great day makes no difference to me at all.
So what does make a difference? I like knowing that I am working to direct my own healing. For me it breaks down into only 3 components. Body, Mind and Spirit. Heal each of the 3 and you heal yourself. It can get overwhelming from time to time, and there will be mistakes made along the way (lattes while on a liquid diet for example.) The body standpoint is the most confusing to me right now. There is just so much information out there you don't really know where to turn. Just like dieting, there are just as many philosophies when it comes to health, especially the health of a cancer patient as there are diet books on amazon.com. I have started to turn to cancer survivors to filter the information thru. I figured they already figured out something that would work for them and perhaps it would give me just a boost. My friend Laura gave me probably some of the best advice that I have had to date. MODERATION! She was telling me about people who went on with their lives and stayed in remission, while others who had become overly positive or had gone off the deep end in terms of healthy nutrition, ran daily didn't stay in remission and became very bitter and confused.
That spoke to me! I can be compulsive. I like to win. I am determined to beat this. My new juicer should arrive tomorrow, and we spent big on fruit and veggies today so that I could remove it from the box and begin juicing right away. I have read so much on raw diets, juicing, detoxing and have geared up to become healthier than ever before. Laura's words were so powerful to me because how many times had I done something like this? The year I bought a sewing machine and made 75 custom Christmas stockings for friends, only to have a sewing machine take up room in my closet for the years that followed. I love projects. I've started thousands some finished and some not. This is not a project that I can afford not to finish however. When I think about it I hate the idea of depriving myself. I love Mexican food. OK, Ran, you can have it in Moderation. That doesn't sound too bad.
There is more to healing. It affects not just the body, but mind and spirit as well. Working up a game plan of things that I would like to try and feel that I may be able to stick with is work. I don't believe that I am alone in this. I have read amazing stories of healing that surprised doctors to the point that they were called miracles. I have also read stories of people who's death shocked the doctors because by all rights they should be alive. I believe in God. I do not however, believe that God gave me cancer. I believe that God gave me free will and with that will I can cure the cancer. It is ultimately up to me. Questioning my doctors is part of that. Taking to survivors is part of that. Kenny reading books on nutrition to help me figure out the next step and my overall plan is part of that. But, as Laura, suggested, in moderation. In the mean time I have a life to live and live it I will!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The News
One definition of the news is that it is supposed to be a media representation of current and relevant information. This rarely holds true when your watching the news, however. It seems the news in this day and age is designed to entertain and terrify. Beautiful anchors telling us with a smile on their face that a bomb has just gone off in church in downtown. (scary) and without missing a beat follow that up with a story of a dog caught in a pipe. (happy ending). This mixed bag seems designed to sell hand sanitizer (the constant running storey of germs) and gain ratings so then the news casters can brag about winning an Emmy. News papers aren't much better in this age either. Filled with adds for lap bands and watches and not much information that I feel pertains to me unless I really want to dig for it.
It is no wonder that the Internet has become the place where most people get their news. Picking and choosing what is truly relevant to them and filtering out what we don't really need to know. Some even go as far as to skip this step and get the info that they need from social media sources. Who can blame them. Do I really need to see breaking news of yet another high speed chase? They pretty much all end the same and in the rare instant that it is worse, I don't really want to be a witness to that anyway. The only big story I have followed over the past couple of weeks has been of Egypt. It is amazing to me that as my drugs were wearing off that an entire country could take the first steps to becoming a democracy. And in terms of relevance, I have always wanted to visit Egypt, so I have a vested interest in them becoming a peaceful nation.
Back to social media, though, it is a modern day miracle. Where else in the space of a minute could I find out my friend Jeff and drank and entire pot of coffee, My cousin in Colorado is snowed in. My niece in Hawaii is going to the gym with my sister. Another friend is on a walk My friend, Andrea's son took his first steps today! And where was I during all of this you ask? I was "soiling" myself. In, of all places, a Joann's Fabric and Craft store. If you have ever had this experience, you know, it is upsetting and embarrassing. So much so that we never mention it. Well most of the polite segment of the population doesn't. Once locked in the safety of the bathroom I noticed the baby changing table in the stall and suddenly felt better. I wouldn't be the only person who had made a mess in the store that day. OK, so I might be the only 48 year old to do it, but I have a similar excuse to all of the babies. I'm on a liquid diet! That and I'm still healing from surgery. You clean yourself up, make the decision if you are going to toss the underwear or not and move on. What else can you do? I even toyed with the idea of posting it on facebook. (I decided not to). Even more encouraging was the fact that Ken hadn't missed me and I wouldn't have to tell him what happened and cut our errand short. "Oh, there you are" he said while coming around a corner. "Are you ready?" "I am, I answered. We got our stuff and went on our way. It was if nothing had ever happened and no one would ever know. Well except the for my readers and anyone else online doing an advanced Google search for "soiling yourself". What a world we live in. I think I'll stay!
It is no wonder that the Internet has become the place where most people get their news. Picking and choosing what is truly relevant to them and filtering out what we don't really need to know. Some even go as far as to skip this step and get the info that they need from social media sources. Who can blame them. Do I really need to see breaking news of yet another high speed chase? They pretty much all end the same and in the rare instant that it is worse, I don't really want to be a witness to that anyway. The only big story I have followed over the past couple of weeks has been of Egypt. It is amazing to me that as my drugs were wearing off that an entire country could take the first steps to becoming a democracy. And in terms of relevance, I have always wanted to visit Egypt, so I have a vested interest in them becoming a peaceful nation.
Back to social media, though, it is a modern day miracle. Where else in the space of a minute could I find out my friend Jeff and drank and entire pot of coffee, My cousin in Colorado is snowed in. My niece in Hawaii is going to the gym with my sister. Another friend is on a walk My friend, Andrea's son took his first steps today! And where was I during all of this you ask? I was "soiling" myself. In, of all places, a Joann's Fabric and Craft store. If you have ever had this experience, you know, it is upsetting and embarrassing. So much so that we never mention it. Well most of the polite segment of the population doesn't. Once locked in the safety of the bathroom I noticed the baby changing table in the stall and suddenly felt better. I wouldn't be the only person who had made a mess in the store that day. OK, so I might be the only 48 year old to do it, but I have a similar excuse to all of the babies. I'm on a liquid diet! That and I'm still healing from surgery. You clean yourself up, make the decision if you are going to toss the underwear or not and move on. What else can you do? I even toyed with the idea of posting it on facebook. (I decided not to). Even more encouraging was the fact that Ken hadn't missed me and I wouldn't have to tell him what happened and cut our errand short. "Oh, there you are" he said while coming around a corner. "Are you ready?" "I am, I answered. We got our stuff and went on our way. It was if nothing had ever happened and no one would ever know. Well except the for my readers and anyone else online doing an advanced Google search for "soiling yourself". What a world we live in. I think I'll stay!
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Gift
I remember a conversation with my dad many years ago. It went something like this: "Wow this year has flown by. It seems like it was just January yesterday." I exclaimed during one of my our phone calls. "Wait until you're my age, time keeps speeding up and speeding up. Just part of getting older" Dad informed me. That conversation plays over and over in my mind, because, in part, it was one of the first times I really began to understand just how smart the man who fathered me really was and more importantly it had a certain ring of truth to it. As it turned out that conversation was spot on. Twenty years have passed since that talk and his words have become more and more true to me over the years. Time has in fact sped up the older I've gotten! Suddenly I'm in my late 40's. And as time has sped up, something else has happened. Joy had diminished.
I loved my 30's and facing my 40's wasn't a big deal to me. As it turned out, however, my life took many twists and turns in my 40's that weren't so pleasant. Job losses, losses of friends and worst yet an odd loss of direction. Was I burnt out? How could this be? All the while time kept racing ahead at a pace that didn't allow me a second to stop and figure the whole thing out. It is remarkable to me that I have made it to this point with in an amazing relationship. OK, so our life has gotten somewhat boring with 1500 channels to watch yet another sitcom on, but hey, he's still here. I must have done something right.
Then came the cancer. Like a decorated package your world is torn apart, remnants strewn about the floor. And then you find the gift inside! Time slows to a crawl! I cannot believe that just 3 weeks ago I had surgery to remove the tumor. It feels like months! Oh and the sweet moments to savor. Having Ken read his input on my blog to update my readers and hearing his voice crack and seeing his eyes tear up. The love I felt in that quite, painful moment almost made the entire journey worth it. Neither Ken or I are huge romantics. In spite of the fact that I cry during commercials, I rarely cry when it is affecting me personally. The both of us have occupied ourselves by being strong for one another. How odd it seems now. He had to be tough so that I can stay positive and move into remission. I have to stay tough so that he can get by day to day, go to work, be my primary caretaker and have some peace of mind along the way.
There is an old saying that today is a gift, that's why it's called the present. How true! I remember Just getting home and having my dog fall asleep on my lap. I sat and watched him for an hour. Such peace.The beauty that you see along the way. Just simple blades of grass blowing in the wind seem to take on meaning. Just sitting quietly on the couch with Ken and the dogs is bliss, not boring. I have discovered the depth of love that I have for so many others as well. My In-Laws, Ruthie and Steve and in fact the entire Davis clan. My friends from work. How I miss the laughter but know this will pass and I will be back with them all too soon. The anticipation that I am currently feeling knowing that my girlfriend Carolyn's plane from Rome will be touching down today and how much I can't wait to hug her and catch up with her. The love delivered via text and facebook is priceless. Each moment of the day is somehow manageable, memorable, and magical.
I know there will be a day in my future, months or a year from now, when the universe has re-set my clock, but until then all I can say is thanks for such a remarkable gift, It's exactly what I wanted.
I loved my 30's and facing my 40's wasn't a big deal to me. As it turned out, however, my life took many twists and turns in my 40's that weren't so pleasant. Job losses, losses of friends and worst yet an odd loss of direction. Was I burnt out? How could this be? All the while time kept racing ahead at a pace that didn't allow me a second to stop and figure the whole thing out. It is remarkable to me that I have made it to this point with in an amazing relationship. OK, so our life has gotten somewhat boring with 1500 channels to watch yet another sitcom on, but hey, he's still here. I must have done something right.
Then came the cancer. Like a decorated package your world is torn apart, remnants strewn about the floor. And then you find the gift inside! Time slows to a crawl! I cannot believe that just 3 weeks ago I had surgery to remove the tumor. It feels like months! Oh and the sweet moments to savor. Having Ken read his input on my blog to update my readers and hearing his voice crack and seeing his eyes tear up. The love I felt in that quite, painful moment almost made the entire journey worth it. Neither Ken or I are huge romantics. In spite of the fact that I cry during commercials, I rarely cry when it is affecting me personally. The both of us have occupied ourselves by being strong for one another. How odd it seems now. He had to be tough so that I can stay positive and move into remission. I have to stay tough so that he can get by day to day, go to work, be my primary caretaker and have some peace of mind along the way.
There is an old saying that today is a gift, that's why it's called the present. How true! I remember Just getting home and having my dog fall asleep on my lap. I sat and watched him for an hour. Such peace.The beauty that you see along the way. Just simple blades of grass blowing in the wind seem to take on meaning. Just sitting quietly on the couch with Ken and the dogs is bliss, not boring. I have discovered the depth of love that I have for so many others as well. My In-Laws, Ruthie and Steve and in fact the entire Davis clan. My friends from work. How I miss the laughter but know this will pass and I will be back with them all too soon. The anticipation that I am currently feeling knowing that my girlfriend Carolyn's plane from Rome will be touching down today and how much I can't wait to hug her and catch up with her. The love delivered via text and facebook is priceless. Each moment of the day is somehow manageable, memorable, and magical.
I know there will be a day in my future, months or a year from now, when the universe has re-set my clock, but until then all I can say is thanks for such a remarkable gift, It's exactly what I wanted.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Poop, Pain and Patience
First thing I noticed this morning when I got up was that one of my dogs had had an accident by the back door. With Ken being at work the responsibility of cleaning it became mine. Where are those caretakers when you need them? Come on, this isn't a big deal, I reasoned and started in on the mess. My Pug looked up at me with sad watery eyes and tried to scoot close to me. It's not as if I could look at them and say "Daddy has cancer, so please don't have any accidents for me to clean up". It wouldn't work on a dog. (It did however work on a clerk at Target when I wanted to make a return over 30 days. Amazing what the "C" word can do!) The bottom line is that I can clean up the poop! My recovery is at the point that I can do a lot more than even I expected by this point. No to keep harping on it, but just two and a half weeks ago there was a surgeon with his had thru my neck removing half of my tongue. Yes I am suprised by what I can do in just this short amount of time.
Fueled by this knowledge, I got undressed, plastic wrapped my own leg, covered my arm and showered myself. The best part of this shower is knowing I didn't have to wait for it. Looking at the clock, knowing Ken would be home around four. Having to give him time to de-stress from the day and then dropping the bomb that I really want a shower. Watching his oh crap reaction, which immediately gets wiped away as if by some cosmic swiffer to be replaced with his sweet caretaker face. I notice those things. Of course I still want a shower so buck it up and wash me! As of today that is over! (although I wouldn't turn down having my back scrubbed!).
Healing appeares to be a combination of pain or aggravation and patience. How much can you do on your own as opposed to how much do you need to have done for you and then pushing those boundaries each day. I should mention that I have never been the most patient man. This disease has been helping me on that, however. It is also helping become aware of real vs. self imposed limitations. Asking the question "really?" all of the time and having a plan b, just in case I have pushed it too hard.
Cancer doesn't stop dust from collecting, spiders from spinning webs. It does not block the rain from hitting your windows, rendering them a streaky mess. It cannot keep sheets clean or dogs from shedding. In short life goes on while you have cancer. There are groceries to buy (or make if you live in NOLA), trips to the doctors. This is not a bad thing. Life should go on. I think it is the fact that life goes on that makes us loose patience with our healing and cast out our net so that we can get back into the flow of life! And while I'd love to have a maid (and who wouldn't) this is nothing new. I have never been excited about cleaning the house. Well, except for those ADD deep cleans when I am having company. I love the manic of perfecting things and then sitting on the couch appraising my work while waiting for guests to arrive. For that reason alone, we never seem to have too much company as my frenzied cleaning binges make Ken a nervous wreck.
Today alone, I have showered, walked a few blocks, fed the dogs, started laundry and worked on my blog. OK, so I didn't get up a run a marathon, I didn't do that before I had cancer, either.I'm back in the swim and will continue to heal, help keep the house clean, do laundry and, of course, pick up the dog poop.
Fueled by this knowledge, I got undressed, plastic wrapped my own leg, covered my arm and showered myself. The best part of this shower is knowing I didn't have to wait for it. Looking at the clock, knowing Ken would be home around four. Having to give him time to de-stress from the day and then dropping the bomb that I really want a shower. Watching his oh crap reaction, which immediately gets wiped away as if by some cosmic swiffer to be replaced with his sweet caretaker face. I notice those things. Of course I still want a shower so buck it up and wash me! As of today that is over! (although I wouldn't turn down having my back scrubbed!).
Healing appeares to be a combination of pain or aggravation and patience. How much can you do on your own as opposed to how much do you need to have done for you and then pushing those boundaries each day. I should mention that I have never been the most patient man. This disease has been helping me on that, however. It is also helping become aware of real vs. self imposed limitations. Asking the question "really?" all of the time and having a plan b, just in case I have pushed it too hard.
Cancer doesn't stop dust from collecting, spiders from spinning webs. It does not block the rain from hitting your windows, rendering them a streaky mess. It cannot keep sheets clean or dogs from shedding. In short life goes on while you have cancer. There are groceries to buy (or make if you live in NOLA), trips to the doctors. This is not a bad thing. Life should go on. I think it is the fact that life goes on that makes us loose patience with our healing and cast out our net so that we can get back into the flow of life! And while I'd love to have a maid (and who wouldn't) this is nothing new. I have never been excited about cleaning the house. Well, except for those ADD deep cleans when I am having company. I love the manic of perfecting things and then sitting on the couch appraising my work while waiting for guests to arrive. For that reason alone, we never seem to have too much company as my frenzied cleaning binges make Ken a nervous wreck.
Today alone, I have showered, walked a few blocks, fed the dogs, started laundry and worked on my blog. OK, so I didn't get up a run a marathon, I didn't do that before I had cancer, either.I'm back in the swim and will continue to heal, help keep the house clean, do laundry and, of course, pick up the dog poop.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Fragile
Of the many things in life one can feel about themselves, fragile, is something that I don't believe that I have ever experienced until now. It's not the cancer. From the moment I thought that was a possibility, I was online, researching, asking questions. Like always I kept moving forward. The surgery, while horrible (and even if you read my description of the aftermath doesn't come close to how "kicked down" I really felt at the time), Wasn't enough to make me feel this. Coming home and finding that the hospital outside administrator had seriously screwed up and things were not ready didn't do it (It may have done it a bit to Ken, he really turned into a momma bear on the phone).
So what has finally brought you to this you ask? My skin graft! For two weeks after the surgery it lay protected in a cast. I could barely feel it. I knew it was there. Every time I have been asked to stick out my tongue, I know it's there because the skin now resides in my mouth. Much to my surprise, I didn't research this. No terrifying images on google, like I had done with the tongue. No reading. I didn't even ask about skin grafts from other survivors I'd met. In short, I had not done my due diligence. Yes, I'm one of those who believes that knowledge and education can set us free. Or if nothing else, prepare us for the worst.
I was not prepared to see what resembles a lasagna stapled to my wrist. Ever since the removal of the cast, I am hyper aware that it is there just waiting to split or tear forcing me to be rushed to the hospital for treatment. There are feelings of guilt as I look over the doggy door into my kitchen and see my pugs sad faces, pleading with me that they won't hurt me. It feels like living in a SPCA Ad. I expect Sarah McLaughlin to start singing "In the arms of the angles" at any moment. and yet even that is not enough to break the spell of fear.
I tell myself that it hasn't even been a day. Spend some time with lasagnawrist. Get used to it. I am supposed to remove the bandages several hours of the day so it can dry out (yuck). And while I did do it last night cannot seem to bring myself to do it this morning.
This is frustrating! I am sarcastic and tough. I usually make the first joke at my own expense! I rarely get offended when anyone says something unflattering to me. I don't like feeling that part of me is made of porcelain and being a my usual bull in a china shop self, I'm bound to break it. The one thing that I hope will come of this is that I hope to remember this vividly! I want to remember the weakness and fear. Why? The truth about me is that I rather lack a certain amount of compassion. I hope that by keeping this time close to my heart I will be truly able to listen and care for others going thru this experience in the future. The people who have been there for me deserve this as I begin to pay it forward. If feeling fragile helps give a solid return on that investment, then I am willingly fragile! In all truth, I can't imagine having gone thru this alone or with no education. To the many who have reached out to me, taught me, prayed for me, light candles, danced around, sent white light, I am truly humbled in your presence. Thank you.
So what has finally brought you to this you ask? My skin graft! For two weeks after the surgery it lay protected in a cast. I could barely feel it. I knew it was there. Every time I have been asked to stick out my tongue, I know it's there because the skin now resides in my mouth. Much to my surprise, I didn't research this. No terrifying images on google, like I had done with the tongue. No reading. I didn't even ask about skin grafts from other survivors I'd met. In short, I had not done my due diligence. Yes, I'm one of those who believes that knowledge and education can set us free. Or if nothing else, prepare us for the worst.
I was not prepared to see what resembles a lasagna stapled to my wrist. Ever since the removal of the cast, I am hyper aware that it is there just waiting to split or tear forcing me to be rushed to the hospital for treatment. There are feelings of guilt as I look over the doggy door into my kitchen and see my pugs sad faces, pleading with me that they won't hurt me. It feels like living in a SPCA Ad. I expect Sarah McLaughlin to start singing "In the arms of the angles" at any moment. and yet even that is not enough to break the spell of fear.
I tell myself that it hasn't even been a day. Spend some time with lasagnawrist. Get used to it. I am supposed to remove the bandages several hours of the day so it can dry out (yuck). And while I did do it last night cannot seem to bring myself to do it this morning.
This is frustrating! I am sarcastic and tough. I usually make the first joke at my own expense! I rarely get offended when anyone says something unflattering to me. I don't like feeling that part of me is made of porcelain and being a my usual bull in a china shop self, I'm bound to break it. The one thing that I hope will come of this is that I hope to remember this vividly! I want to remember the weakness and fear. Why? The truth about me is that I rather lack a certain amount of compassion. I hope that by keeping this time close to my heart I will be truly able to listen and care for others going thru this experience in the future. The people who have been there for me deserve this as I begin to pay it forward. If feeling fragile helps give a solid return on that investment, then I am willingly fragile! In all truth, I can't imagine having gone thru this alone or with no education. To the many who have reached out to me, taught me, prayed for me, light candles, danced around, sent white light, I am truly humbled in your presence. Thank you.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
There was an old lady who swallowed a fly....
You know the song. Probably sang it as a child. It took me years to really understand that this musical farce was in fact a lesson. Of course the intended lesson was not to follow up one bad idea with another one, however I do believe that someone in the medical field decided to interpreted it in another way.
If you have been reading my blog then you know that I have recently had half of my tongue removed and reconstructed. Today in the plastic surgeons office he removed the cast from my arm that was protecting the site of the skin graft. What does any of this have to do with a nursery rhyme you ask. Well, odd things pop into my head from time to time (actually on a pretty steady basis, but I think that may be a topic for another blog). When looking down at the oddly yellowish, pinkish, purplish patch of skin covering my wrist, this song was all I could think of. Of course it was something more like this:
"There once was a guy who had a tongue tumor, the doctor said man, we gotta remover her.
He removed half of the tongue, but upon seeing his work he thought he can't talk like this, wow I'm a jerk!
So he removed some skin and plenty of fat from the patients wrist, folded it over and gave it a big squish.
He then stitched that sandwich to the healthy half of tongue looked down again and realized what he'd done.
He can't use his arm without skin and vein, so he went a little lower and borrowed some from the poor patients leg......
OK so that's where my surgery story ends, but as I was saying I get some pretty odd thought from time to time. It is a good thing though because while examining my wrist I almost passed out. Funny how being silly and making your self laugh sometimes really does make it all better! Life is just like that, too isn't it. How many times have you been furious at a friend or love one or especially a spouse and just when it gets heated up it gets funny. There is nothing like laughter in the face of adversity to let you know that you not only are surviving, but I believe that just the defiant act of laughing in the face of disaster is, in fact, one of the strongest survival instincts. Today's Truth:: Every day I laugh and therefore I am a survivor!
If you have been reading my blog then you know that I have recently had half of my tongue removed and reconstructed. Today in the plastic surgeons office he removed the cast from my arm that was protecting the site of the skin graft. What does any of this have to do with a nursery rhyme you ask. Well, odd things pop into my head from time to time (actually on a pretty steady basis, but I think that may be a topic for another blog). When looking down at the oddly yellowish, pinkish, purplish patch of skin covering my wrist, this song was all I could think of. Of course it was something more like this:
"There once was a guy who had a tongue tumor, the doctor said man, we gotta remover her.
He removed half of the tongue, but upon seeing his work he thought he can't talk like this, wow I'm a jerk!
So he removed some skin and plenty of fat from the patients wrist, folded it over and gave it a big squish.
He then stitched that sandwich to the healthy half of tongue looked down again and realized what he'd done.
He can't use his arm without skin and vein, so he went a little lower and borrowed some from the poor patients leg......
OK so that's where my surgery story ends, but as I was saying I get some pretty odd thought from time to time. It is a good thing though because while examining my wrist I almost passed out. Funny how being silly and making your self laugh sometimes really does make it all better! Life is just like that, too isn't it. How many times have you been furious at a friend or love one or especially a spouse and just when it gets heated up it gets funny. There is nothing like laughter in the face of adversity to let you know that you not only are surviving, but I believe that just the defiant act of laughing in the face of disaster is, in fact, one of the strongest survival instincts. Today's Truth:: Every day I laugh and therefore I am a survivor!
Monday, February 14, 2011
My "Blow Hole"
The human body is nothing short of a miracle! Cut it open and it can heal. Remove blood and it regenerates more. Each one of us owns the most exquisite machine ever produced! Even more remarkable is that no two are exactly alike. Throughout my battle of the "C", I have been nothing short of amazed. The stories I have read, inspire me. The people who have reached out to me with their own stories have moved me to push my self. In fact I have found that the community of survivors that I find myself becoming involved with is very much a "pay it forward" group of people! There is so much good flowing toward me constantly! And then there is my "Blow Hole"
What is a blow hole you ask? Remember me whining about my trech and how bad I wanted it out? Well as it turns out that is what you get. They take it out. OK, they take it out and then what? Nothing! Huh? Yes, they take it out and then nothing. You have a hole in your neck left to close on it's own! I have had countless employees over the years who have had tongue rings. Back in the day, I even had a few of my own body piercings. I know that when they are removed they heal up. For this reason, every employee I have had with a tongue piercing always tried to ignore the corporate mandates of no piercings! But it will close up by the end of my shift, They'd whine. Followed by me explaining that they should have thought of that prior to having the piercing in the first place.
My blow hole is somewhat different than that. First of all it looks to be approximately an inch and a half long and set on an angle. I think that angle was created by the swelling in my neck and, not, god forbid carelessness on the part of my brilliant doctor! Secondly it is quite unnerving to see a slash in one's own throat! Of course the hole is protected all day and night by a gauze pad taped over it, so I really only see it during bandage changes (i.e. last nights face book post about realizing I didn't have Beiber Fever as I was more interested in changing my bandage than enduring his performance). But seriously, you can't put a few stitches or staples in it? Warm breaths occasionally sneak out of it to remind me that it is open for business. Yesterday while in the shower I forgot myself while washing my face, sprayed my neck and almost drowned! The blow hole is a pain in the, well, throat I guess. If it were a pain the butt that would be quite another type of blow hole.
In the long run, I am quite aware that the blow hole is minor. I am sure I will find something else to complain about as the blow hole closes up. Most likely my skin grafts! The good news here is that I am feeling like my feisty self again and that alone is worth putting up with the blow hole!
What is a blow hole you ask? Remember me whining about my trech and how bad I wanted it out? Well as it turns out that is what you get. They take it out. OK, they take it out and then what? Nothing! Huh? Yes, they take it out and then nothing. You have a hole in your neck left to close on it's own! I have had countless employees over the years who have had tongue rings. Back in the day, I even had a few of my own body piercings. I know that when they are removed they heal up. For this reason, every employee I have had with a tongue piercing always tried to ignore the corporate mandates of no piercings! But it will close up by the end of my shift, They'd whine. Followed by me explaining that they should have thought of that prior to having the piercing in the first place.
My blow hole is somewhat different than that. First of all it looks to be approximately an inch and a half long and set on an angle. I think that angle was created by the swelling in my neck and, not, god forbid carelessness on the part of my brilliant doctor! Secondly it is quite unnerving to see a slash in one's own throat! Of course the hole is protected all day and night by a gauze pad taped over it, so I really only see it during bandage changes (i.e. last nights face book post about realizing I didn't have Beiber Fever as I was more interested in changing my bandage than enduring his performance). But seriously, you can't put a few stitches or staples in it? Warm breaths occasionally sneak out of it to remind me that it is open for business. Yesterday while in the shower I forgot myself while washing my face, sprayed my neck and almost drowned! The blow hole is a pain in the, well, throat I guess. If it were a pain the butt that would be quite another type of blow hole.
In the long run, I am quite aware that the blow hole is minor. I am sure I will find something else to complain about as the blow hole closes up. Most likely my skin grafts! The good news here is that I am feeling like my feisty self again and that alone is worth putting up with the blow hole!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
If it's not one thing it's another....
I love that line. It never fails to make me think of Gildna Radner! Rosanne Rosanna Danna was one of my favorite characters! (If you don't know who that is, I envy your youth! now go and hit u tube!) The thing is healing really isjust like that. It's never just one thing!
At the start of this journey it was the tumor on my tongue causing pain. Then having to take time off from work. (but that's where my identity comes from who will I be now?) Then it was surgery and getting ready for that. By the time I was laying in pre-op, I'd forgotton all about the tumor because now I was about to be sliced open wide enough to have someones hands in my mouth thru my neck. Thru it all there has been prayer. Mine, my friends, there friends, strangers. I found myself prior to surgery giving money to homeless people to hear the "god bless you". (Hey, when it comes to your health never leave any stone unturned! and no, I'n not above buying a prayer here and there).
Then waking up there were themorphine derived hallucinations. Those took up a lot of time on their own. The feeding tube was a nightmare from the start of recovery. It was sewn into my nose causeing nightmares of being dragged by a large hook in my nose. Then it became my trech always needing suction as my immune system worked to get it out of my body. Then the war of the nurses. The good nurses hovering not letting me sleep, as if I could.. The bad nurses that I couldn't get to come when called (I know they were busy, but 20 to 30 minutes, really?)
It has played out this way thru the whole journy of healing. Once my trech and feeding tube were removed the focus turned to my cast. Now it's bugging me, along with the trech removal. It turns out they don't stitch it up, just let it heal on it's own. Now I have a "blow hole". On and on. Never satisfied. There is , of course, a lesson in all of this for me. If it's not one thing it's another started long before the cancer. Always restless, never satisfied. I was one of the people who believed that they appreciated beauty, but missed it all around me. How amazing the sun feels on the back of your neck after being cooped up too long. Just how cute my dogs are curled up on my legs while I type. The dappled light of the huge but unidentified tree in our front yard. How amazing the body is. I believe from hear on out it's up to me to not only seek out beauty in the moment, but stive to live in the moment..
And yes, I love to bitch and complain at the end of a long day, but reciently it hit me; how amazing would it be to feel peaceful at the end of a long day? The truth is I've always felt unnoticed. I am starting to see that the reality is that I have allowed my focus to be occupied by unnecessary thoughts to the point that I couldn't have felt noticed had I been on a stage at the Hollywood Bowl.
So what I'm saying here is this. If it's not healing from cancer, it's healing from my own warped self image. And as frightening as this sounds I believe that that warped self image may have led in some spiritual way to the cancer. It's odd, but as this journey began, I felt very strongly that it was bigger than the cancer. I think I have a new motto: Heal Big, Win Big!
At the start of this journey it was the tumor on my tongue causing pain. Then having to take time off from work. (but that's where my identity comes from who will I be now?) Then it was surgery and getting ready for that. By the time I was laying in pre-op, I'd forgotton all about the tumor because now I was about to be sliced open wide enough to have someones hands in my mouth thru my neck. Thru it all there has been prayer. Mine, my friends, there friends, strangers. I found myself prior to surgery giving money to homeless people to hear the "god bless you". (Hey, when it comes to your health never leave any stone unturned! and no, I'n not above buying a prayer here and there).
Then waking up there were themorphine derived hallucinations. Those took up a lot of time on their own. The feeding tube was a nightmare from the start of recovery. It was sewn into my nose causeing nightmares of being dragged by a large hook in my nose. Then it became my trech always needing suction as my immune system worked to get it out of my body. Then the war of the nurses. The good nurses hovering not letting me sleep, as if I could.. The bad nurses that I couldn't get to come when called (I know they were busy, but 20 to 30 minutes, really?)
It has played out this way thru the whole journy of healing. Once my trech and feeding tube were removed the focus turned to my cast. Now it's bugging me, along with the trech removal. It turns out they don't stitch it up, just let it heal on it's own. Now I have a "blow hole". On and on. Never satisfied. There is , of course, a lesson in all of this for me. If it's not one thing it's another started long before the cancer. Always restless, never satisfied. I was one of the people who believed that they appreciated beauty, but missed it all around me. How amazing the sun feels on the back of your neck after being cooped up too long. Just how cute my dogs are curled up on my legs while I type. The dappled light of the huge but unidentified tree in our front yard. How amazing the body is. I believe from hear on out it's up to me to not only seek out beauty in the moment, but stive to live in the moment..
And yes, I love to bitch and complain at the end of a long day, but reciently it hit me; how amazing would it be to feel peaceful at the end of a long day? The truth is I've always felt unnoticed. I am starting to see that the reality is that I have allowed my focus to be occupied by unnecessary thoughts to the point that I couldn't have felt noticed had I been on a stage at the Hollywood Bowl.
So what I'm saying here is this. If it's not healing from cancer, it's healing from my own warped self image. And as frightening as this sounds I believe that that warped self image may have led in some spiritual way to the cancer. It's odd, but as this journey began, I felt very strongly that it was bigger than the cancer. I think I have a new motto: Heal Big, Win Big!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Faith, Fantasy and Attention Deficite Disorder
While doing some research today I wondered onto the Oral Cancer Foundations website. A lot of great info until you read mortality rates. 27,000 people diagnosed with some sort of oral cancer each year with only half of those alive at the end of 5 years (the most important milestone for cancer survivors).Those are some pretty heavy odds you might be thinking. I just got mad! Screw you, I thought!
Where does this come from when one of us is presented with someone else's truth we say Screw you instead of listening? Is this a form of denial? Faith? Am I crazy? It's at time's like these that I am truly grateful to be the poster child for ADD! I won't really remember the statistics in a day or so and will be working on my road to recovery. I believe that my ADD may be severing me in terms of long term health. In fact I think my personal columns of health include Faith (both my own and everyone else's, getting those prayers going and having people know that you are healthy before we can see the physical proof is one of the strongest medicines in the universe. It is our connection to God!) Fantasy, my ability to see my future (and everyone else's ability to clearly see me in the future). and finally Attention Deficit Disorder: this one is personal to me (unless you are ADD as well, then please include yourself) How can you that possibly help you, you may ask? Simple I can forget about the troubling info that I've been given (allowing for the faith and fantasy to take over),
Now some of you are probably about to do a chicken neck and exclaim "You Crazy!" Hear me out. I get your argument (I'll forget about it, but for the time let's just say I understand. Faith allows us to see the world removed from the physical bonds. It tells us that we are one with god! Yes I know all of the arguments against it. Faith is just for the weak. Prayer doesn't work. I pray to win the lottery every week and I'm still working at a 9-5 job (therefore prayer doesn't work) OK, we have all prayed for come crazy stuff. It does not mean that the perfect words put out into the universe at the right time with the right intent won't bring the right result. Think of wishes as prayers, how many of yours have been answered over the years. Now if you combine those with some sort of action what was the result? The new job, car, perfect hair cut? You are hopeful realizing that I am right! If not, it's cool, I still have faith.
Fantasy, works hand in hand with faith. It helps us see better times, when we are full bore in the worst of times. It creates the world of tomorrow. Scientists are remarkable fantasizes! And OK it helps us waist time when we are bored. I can't tell you how many times I've been interviewed by Oprah and Ellen on the way to work! Thank god for hands free. People don't freak out when they see talking to yourself anymore.
And as for ADD, I will use the power of forgetting the negative! This allows me to focus on the positive in my life and ultimately heal. Maybe it's too simplistic and maybe I seem trapped by some in a fantasy where I am failing to take the statistics into account. To those people I say "screw you"! There is no way, I won't be here five years from now. I have faith in the future that I have seen, and you better believe that I'll be around!
Where does this come from when one of us is presented with someone else's truth we say Screw you instead of listening? Is this a form of denial? Faith? Am I crazy? It's at time's like these that I am truly grateful to be the poster child for ADD! I won't really remember the statistics in a day or so and will be working on my road to recovery. I believe that my ADD may be severing me in terms of long term health. In fact I think my personal columns of health include Faith (both my own and everyone else's, getting those prayers going and having people know that you are healthy before we can see the physical proof is one of the strongest medicines in the universe. It is our connection to God!) Fantasy, my ability to see my future (and everyone else's ability to clearly see me in the future). and finally Attention Deficit Disorder: this one is personal to me (unless you are ADD as well, then please include yourself) How can you that possibly help you, you may ask? Simple I can forget about the troubling info that I've been given (allowing for the faith and fantasy to take over),
Now some of you are probably about to do a chicken neck and exclaim "You Crazy!" Hear me out. I get your argument (I'll forget about it, but for the time let's just say I understand. Faith allows us to see the world removed from the physical bonds. It tells us that we are one with god! Yes I know all of the arguments against it. Faith is just for the weak. Prayer doesn't work. I pray to win the lottery every week and I'm still working at a 9-5 job (therefore prayer doesn't work) OK, we have all prayed for come crazy stuff. It does not mean that the perfect words put out into the universe at the right time with the right intent won't bring the right result. Think of wishes as prayers, how many of yours have been answered over the years. Now if you combine those with some sort of action what was the result? The new job, car, perfect hair cut? You are hopeful realizing that I am right! If not, it's cool, I still have faith.
Fantasy, works hand in hand with faith. It helps us see better times, when we are full bore in the worst of times. It creates the world of tomorrow. Scientists are remarkable fantasizes! And OK it helps us waist time when we are bored. I can't tell you how many times I've been interviewed by Oprah and Ellen on the way to work! Thank god for hands free. People don't freak out when they see talking to yourself anymore.
And as for ADD, I will use the power of forgetting the negative! This allows me to focus on the positive in my life and ultimately heal. Maybe it's too simplistic and maybe I seem trapped by some in a fantasy where I am failing to take the statistics into account. To those people I say "screw you"! There is no way, I won't be here five years from now. I have faith in the future that I have seen, and you better believe that I'll be around!
Friday, February 11, 2011
Good Jeans and good genes....
First an update: I saw the doctor yesterday and found out they got all of the cancer from the tongue! Unfortunately on a microscopic level it has spread to my lymph nodes on the right side of my neck. In a few weeks I will need to undergo radiation and most likely chemo therapy. I was disappointed, of course, but know that I have the personal strength to get thru this (OK, I didn't feel like that in the doctors office, but after not being able to sleep for hours remembered the truth about myself and that is I am tough!)
My healing is happening at an amazing pace.that has surprised even my doctor. My trech was removed today and (Surprise) so was my feeding tube. It's just all me now. I even got to take a shower after some creative plastic wrapping for the cast on my arm and leg (from the skin grafts). OK here we go.
There is nothing like a good pair of jeans. The best jeans become a part of you. Define you. You drag them out whenever your down, whenever your up and want to look even better. I spent years rejecting jeans, but just last year bought a pair I love and rarely take them off. They have a sleek dark wash that looks dressed up or down. The denim market has exploded over the past 20 years. Jeans in the $200 and up category came out and I wondered who would wear those? It seems everyone, except for me that is. My favorite jeans do not have a fancy pedigree. In fact they only cost $35.00. They are Levi's, an American classic. Tough and cool enough to dress up for the theater. They're simple lines is what I believe great design to be all about.
Good Jeans don't become a part of you, they are you. Genes come down the line each time combined creating a new exact person. Some sleek, some tall. some a bit big busted, some with a big tush. My Genes, much like my Jeans seem to be of the simple lot. German (farmer stock), Irish and Cherokee Indian blended to make me the unique expression that I am. Like most of the men in my family, and like my favorite jeans, I have become better over time. My weight bounced around all of my life, but seems to have found a nice range. My face has mellowed and actually become handsome over the years. Just a touch of grey sprinkled thru my brown hair over the past few years, giving me if not a wiser look, a slightly more mature look (and god only knows, I could use a little maturity. I still play like a big kid).
And also, like my favorite jeans, I am tough! Made to survive all of the wear the universe can dish out. I wonder sometimes if I was genetically predisposed to pick out my simple genes. Think about it. Look at your jeans and then look at your genes. Is there a commonality? I have found that I don't need the designer jeans, and, in dealing with my cancer I am glad to have my simple peasant stock genes. I am healing rapidly and day by day can do more.. So the next time I start thinking that I'm not good enough, and can't get thru this, I'm going to pull out my jeans and put them on as if they were my armour. They are the best representation of me in my closet, and with the simple act of wearing them, I let to universe know this. You can't beat an American classic!
My healing is happening at an amazing pace.that has surprised even my doctor. My trech was removed today and (Surprise) so was my feeding tube. It's just all me now. I even got to take a shower after some creative plastic wrapping for the cast on my arm and leg (from the skin grafts). OK here we go.
There is nothing like a good pair of jeans. The best jeans become a part of you. Define you. You drag them out whenever your down, whenever your up and want to look even better. I spent years rejecting jeans, but just last year bought a pair I love and rarely take them off. They have a sleek dark wash that looks dressed up or down. The denim market has exploded over the past 20 years. Jeans in the $200 and up category came out and I wondered who would wear those? It seems everyone, except for me that is. My favorite jeans do not have a fancy pedigree. In fact they only cost $35.00. They are Levi's, an American classic. Tough and cool enough to dress up for the theater. They're simple lines is what I believe great design to be all about.
Good Jeans don't become a part of you, they are you. Genes come down the line each time combined creating a new exact person. Some sleek, some tall. some a bit big busted, some with a big tush. My Genes, much like my Jeans seem to be of the simple lot. German (farmer stock), Irish and Cherokee Indian blended to make me the unique expression that I am. Like most of the men in my family, and like my favorite jeans, I have become better over time. My weight bounced around all of my life, but seems to have found a nice range. My face has mellowed and actually become handsome over the years. Just a touch of grey sprinkled thru my brown hair over the past few years, giving me if not a wiser look, a slightly more mature look (and god only knows, I could use a little maturity. I still play like a big kid).
And also, like my favorite jeans, I am tough! Made to survive all of the wear the universe can dish out. I wonder sometimes if I was genetically predisposed to pick out my simple genes. Think about it. Look at your jeans and then look at your genes. Is there a commonality? I have found that I don't need the designer jeans, and, in dealing with my cancer I am glad to have my simple peasant stock genes. I am healing rapidly and day by day can do more.. So the next time I start thinking that I'm not good enough, and can't get thru this, I'm going to pull out my jeans and put them on as if they were my armour. They are the best representation of me in my closet, and with the simple act of wearing them, I let to universe know this. You can't beat an American classic!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tough Love!
I stopped pushing the little button and requested to be taken of morphine all together. The light started to shine thru the corners of my drug haze cleaning out the nightmare of the past 48 hours. Nurses that had hovered for my first 48 hours were nowhere to be found after they removed the catheter. Regular suctioning of the trech that had been installed were the worst! It drummed up images that I had vowed to forget of my mother in her last hours. The helplessness, weakness and total fear as she was not able to breath for even a couple of seconds. Finally, Lew, one of my nurses informed me that I needed to get up and walk. That my road to recovery was going to be walked my me alone. She let me know pretty quickly that she was busy and I too needed to get busy healing myself. (Lew also mentioned that when she had a serious surgery she had not taken pain killers and kept walking halls until her release. OK she knows something!)
My partner Ken walked into the room. My first words of the day (all written on typing paper) was that I needed a walk. I was helped up and walked around "the triangle" a few times. Funny thing is upon returning to bed I felt better that I had in the past couple of days. OK so this stuff works. Keep at it! I bugged everyone entering my room to walk me (as I had to be assisted) The most amazing thing is that I wasn't really in any pain.Ye, there was discomfort, but not what I'd call actual pain.In my mind it seemed like my tongue should have felt like it was split in two (because it was) and that sounded like a 10 on the pain scale meter. (if you are not familiar with the pain scale meter it's a scale of one to ten of pain levels accompanied by cute little white smiley faces on the starting line and ending up red unhappy faces) As it turned out, this wasn't even as bad as I had imagined a tongue piercing to be).
Finally the night of day 4 I was placed in my own room, just down the hall from the ICU and yes, I walked there! The nurses in my new room ran the gamete of being sweet to completely only doing the bare minimum. I found I really liked the bare minimum nurses the best. They ignored the order for assisted walks and let me do it on my own. Maybe this was nuts but I figured that just around the corner there were wheel chairs and I could always have a seat if I ran our of breath. The rude awaking came when I failed to remember that I was on a liquid diet (thru a feeding tube in my nose) during one of the walks I started to feel warm drops down the back of my legs and realized the error of my ways. I sheepishly wound my wayt back to my room hoping that I wasn't leaving trails)and called for the nurse who was none too pleased but I figured that they wanted to ignore instructions they could help out a little now. I remember that sponge bath particularly well because the scene of Bo Derrick in the film (If you can call it that) being washed and exclaiming "There washing me like a horse"! Amazing what pops into your head, isn't it.
The next day came as a shock. I felt like crap. What? How is this possible? I've been walking! The lesson in day five is that I was on the road to recovery, not there yet. It also appeared that there could be some pot holes in the road as well. It continued on this way until Super Bowl Sunday. Whether it was the staff moral, lack of anything on TV, fhe fact that I'd just completed the best book that I'd in years (The Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans, by David Lummis) and was suffering from post book depression (you known, when you are reading a great book that you love and don't want it to be over. You know that final page is coming up fast, your reading becomes frenzied and BAM! It's over, and even if the ending is a good one, you still want more so much so that you end up reading the afterward,, credits, etc). Ken came and had already left. I was realizing just how long my road back may take and it's wasn't going to be a matter of just days, but months) I just felt drained and then my Dr Oh came in. You're doing good he told me. I'm going to release you tomorrow! WHAT? I feel like crap! I'm happy to be going home, but this wasn't making sense.
And then it occurred to me that nothing of this had made any sense anyway. This is going to be the best year of my life so far, I thought to myself. As I heal, I'll really get to see what I'm made of. I'm finally being challenged in a way that would never could. I will walk a very different path. I can choose to become more healthy than I'd ever been before. To learn and to love like never before. I had been handed a key and I suddenly understood the light I've witnessed, in the eyes of people who had taken this journey before me!
My partner Ken walked into the room. My first words of the day (all written on typing paper) was that I needed a walk. I was helped up and walked around "the triangle" a few times. Funny thing is upon returning to bed I felt better that I had in the past couple of days. OK so this stuff works. Keep at it! I bugged everyone entering my room to walk me (as I had to be assisted) The most amazing thing is that I wasn't really in any pain.Ye, there was discomfort, but not what I'd call actual pain.In my mind it seemed like my tongue should have felt like it was split in two (because it was) and that sounded like a 10 on the pain scale meter. (if you are not familiar with the pain scale meter it's a scale of one to ten of pain levels accompanied by cute little white smiley faces on the starting line and ending up red unhappy faces) As it turned out, this wasn't even as bad as I had imagined a tongue piercing to be).
Finally the night of day 4 I was placed in my own room, just down the hall from the ICU and yes, I walked there! The nurses in my new room ran the gamete of being sweet to completely only doing the bare minimum. I found I really liked the bare minimum nurses the best. They ignored the order for assisted walks and let me do it on my own. Maybe this was nuts but I figured that just around the corner there were wheel chairs and I could always have a seat if I ran our of breath. The rude awaking came when I failed to remember that I was on a liquid diet (thru a feeding tube in my nose) during one of the walks I started to feel warm drops down the back of my legs and realized the error of my ways. I sheepishly wound my wayt back to my room hoping that I wasn't leaving trails)and called for the nurse who was none too pleased but I figured that they wanted to ignore instructions they could help out a little now. I remember that sponge bath particularly well because the scene of Bo Derrick in the film (If you can call it that) being washed and exclaiming "There washing me like a horse"! Amazing what pops into your head, isn't it.
The next day came as a shock. I felt like crap. What? How is this possible? I've been walking! The lesson in day five is that I was on the road to recovery, not there yet. It also appeared that there could be some pot holes in the road as well. It continued on this way until Super Bowl Sunday. Whether it was the staff moral, lack of anything on TV, fhe fact that I'd just completed the best book that I'd in years (The Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans, by David Lummis) and was suffering from post book depression (you known, when you are reading a great book that you love and don't want it to be over. You know that final page is coming up fast, your reading becomes frenzied and BAM! It's over, and even if the ending is a good one, you still want more so much so that you end up reading the afterward,, credits, etc). Ken came and had already left. I was realizing just how long my road back may take and it's wasn't going to be a matter of just days, but months) I just felt drained and then my Dr Oh came in. You're doing good he told me. I'm going to release you tomorrow! WHAT? I feel like crap! I'm happy to be going home, but this wasn't making sense.
And then it occurred to me that nothing of this had made any sense anyway. This is going to be the best year of my life so far, I thought to myself. As I heal, I'll really get to see what I'm made of. I'm finally being challenged in a way that would never could. I will walk a very different path. I can choose to become more healthy than I'd ever been before. To learn and to love like never before. I had been handed a key and I suddenly understood the light I've witnessed, in the eyes of people who had taken this journey before me!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
What "They" say, Whoever 'They is"....
Before I start today, let me say I am typing this with a splint on one arm so I'm somewhat restricted.
They say that cancer is the "C" work, They say that cancer is frightening. They don't know why. They drive past hospitals only knowing what they've seen on Greys Anatomy or Dur jour (Note to self: Take a french class so you can use french phrases that you speak but don't know how to spell). We live our lives in fear never speaking the word lest we bring a pox on the house. We give to cancer charities, do walk-athon, out the wazoo. For what? I didn't know about breast cancer, and I hate to admit it but was not that compassionate about it. It just sounded like a little 'lump" you could just cut out. whats the big deal? (unless its the whole big removal job, that sounded scary enough, just not frightening enough to walk from
San Francisco to LA for. I will say that it feels like I have paid the high price of both my lack of compassion and my ignorance.
When the doctor told my what I was facing I wanted to go, get it out, lets move. In hind sight I don't know if I would have done it any differently, but that's how I went into it. Eager. Eager for the whole thing to be over. Today, I probably would have lingered, gone to a beach and cleaned myself in the Pacific. Gone to Nola for a quick binget and walk down the moon walk. The Mississippi River just sooths my soul and helps me to relax. There are about a thousand things I should have done because in my ignorance I didn't know the truth of what was about to happen. Here is the story (warning not for the squeamish).
You know that they were removing half of my tongue and replacing it with a graft. It would be a 10 hour surgery. I woke up at 5:00 am on Tuesday following my surgery. It could have actually been another time, that's just what the nurse told me later. They were prepping me with an additional IV and I remember the pain in the way only a wounded child knows pain. You're hurting me. Why are you hurting me? I remember my bed being rolled around a maze of walls and into an elevator the volume of the ride cranked up by the hallucinogenic effects of the morphine. (They need to come up with some pain med's that don't do that) This was a bad trip. Each new corner reviled itself as as a new entity sometimes demon) Finally In my room there was no sleep to be had. You have people prodding you constantly. Checking various items on their hourly schedule. I was given a morphine pump called my new best friend by my nurse. I was told I could push the button for some liquid relief every 10 minutes. I watched the clock which seemed frozen in time. Waiting for my relief (which never came). The nurses were completely mine the first two days (which I am now to understand is a luxury). None of them spoke English as their first language and had all had heavy accents. (with me with no Tongue and not able to speak and others with accents making this have the feel of a drug binge gone awry in a forigne country (and you know those never end well). by day 2 I was allowed to sleep for two hours at a time. Still being told by my nurse to keep plunging the morphine drip. After my dear friend Theresa paid a visit and turned into a black foam demon with shiny faux floral flourishes, realized its the drugs and got off of them. Damned the pain and the demons were freaking me out.
Gang I am cutting this short today. Typing with the arm brace is taking too much out of me. Be back soon I promise!
They say that cancer is the "C" work, They say that cancer is frightening. They don't know why. They drive past hospitals only knowing what they've seen on Greys Anatomy or Dur jour (Note to self: Take a french class so you can use french phrases that you speak but don't know how to spell). We live our lives in fear never speaking the word lest we bring a pox on the house. We give to cancer charities, do walk-athon, out the wazoo. For what? I didn't know about breast cancer, and I hate to admit it but was not that compassionate about it. It just sounded like a little 'lump" you could just cut out. whats the big deal? (unless its the whole big removal job, that sounded scary enough, just not frightening enough to walk from
San Francisco to LA for. I will say that it feels like I have paid the high price of both my lack of compassion and my ignorance.
When the doctor told my what I was facing I wanted to go, get it out, lets move. In hind sight I don't know if I would have done it any differently, but that's how I went into it. Eager. Eager for the whole thing to be over. Today, I probably would have lingered, gone to a beach and cleaned myself in the Pacific. Gone to Nola for a quick binget and walk down the moon walk. The Mississippi River just sooths my soul and helps me to relax. There are about a thousand things I should have done because in my ignorance I didn't know the truth of what was about to happen. Here is the story (warning not for the squeamish).
You know that they were removing half of my tongue and replacing it with a graft. It would be a 10 hour surgery. I woke up at 5:00 am on Tuesday following my surgery. It could have actually been another time, that's just what the nurse told me later. They were prepping me with an additional IV and I remember the pain in the way only a wounded child knows pain. You're hurting me. Why are you hurting me? I remember my bed being rolled around a maze of walls and into an elevator the volume of the ride cranked up by the hallucinogenic effects of the morphine. (They need to come up with some pain med's that don't do that) This was a bad trip. Each new corner reviled itself as as a new entity sometimes demon) Finally In my room there was no sleep to be had. You have people prodding you constantly. Checking various items on their hourly schedule. I was given a morphine pump called my new best friend by my nurse. I was told I could push the button for some liquid relief every 10 minutes. I watched the clock which seemed frozen in time. Waiting for my relief (which never came). The nurses were completely mine the first two days (which I am now to understand is a luxury). None of them spoke English as their first language and had all had heavy accents. (with me with no Tongue and not able to speak and others with accents making this have the feel of a drug binge gone awry in a forigne country (and you know those never end well). by day 2 I was allowed to sleep for two hours at a time. Still being told by my nurse to keep plunging the morphine drip. After my dear friend Theresa paid a visit and turned into a black foam demon with shiny faux floral flourishes, realized its the drugs and got off of them. Damned the pain and the demons were freaking me out.
Gang I am cutting this short today. Typing with the arm brace is taking too much out of me. Be back soon I promise!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
That's our story....and we're sticking to it!
Hello all, this is Ken, Ran's partner, updating everyone on his surgery.
Ran went off to the OR at about 11:15am on 1/31/11. After about 9 hours the doctors both came out to give me the update - everything went as planned, no surprises! Great! So glad to hear! But 9 hours and no updates! The oncologist was done with his part after about 4 hours, "hey, my part went well" would have been nice. But to double back on Ran's comment about being a patient......BUT I'M NOT THE PATIENT!!!!! But still, I was able to keep myself occupied....plugged in my iPhone and listen to some tunes for most of the time and read through the local papers. Watching other loved ones wait, seen their doctors coming out to update, or even going home. That will be me soon.....
There was this TV screen that listed patients by a number and where they were in the process, kinda like Domino's pizza tracker.....As I sat there and watched everyone else move from green, to blue to pink,to red, Ran just stayed at blue - in OR. And stayed, and stayed. It could be abit nerve racking, but I held it together. But the best part is knowing that as of about 8pm last night, Ran is cancer free. That's our story and we're sticking to it!
Oh, and one more point to his recovery.....even in a propofol coma, Ran woke up on his own, out of sedation at 5am today! He has been very responsive, able to understand and scratch out notes for his needs. He looks like hell, but he wants to recover, and fast! He was taken off the ventilator early today and is right on schedule for his healing.
Sorry my writing isn't as insightful as Ran's. But I wanted to get an update out there for everyone. And my mind hasn't been all there either so I'm a little scattered brain. When I know more, I will let you all know!
I just love how everything is going to plan, on schedule, for something that is so unplanned!
Ran went off to the OR at about 11:15am on 1/31/11. After about 9 hours the doctors both came out to give me the update - everything went as planned, no surprises! Great! So glad to hear! But 9 hours and no updates! The oncologist was done with his part after about 4 hours, "hey, my part went well" would have been nice. But to double back on Ran's comment about being a patient......BUT I'M NOT THE PATIENT!!!!! But still, I was able to keep myself occupied....plugged in my iPhone and listen to some tunes for most of the time and read through the local papers. Watching other loved ones wait, seen their doctors coming out to update, or even going home. That will be me soon.....
There was this TV screen that listed patients by a number and where they were in the process, kinda like Domino's pizza tracker.....As I sat there and watched everyone else move from green, to blue to pink,to red, Ran just stayed at blue - in OR. And stayed, and stayed. It could be abit nerve racking, but I held it together. But the best part is knowing that as of about 8pm last night, Ran is cancer free. That's our story and we're sticking to it!
Oh, and one more point to his recovery.....even in a propofol coma, Ran woke up on his own, out of sedation at 5am today! He has been very responsive, able to understand and scratch out notes for his needs. He looks like hell, but he wants to recover, and fast! He was taken off the ventilator early today and is right on schedule for his healing.
Sorry my writing isn't as insightful as Ran's. But I wanted to get an update out there for everyone. And my mind hasn't been all there either so I'm a little scattered brain. When I know more, I will let you all know!
I just love how everything is going to plan, on schedule, for something that is so unplanned!
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