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?

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!

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!