PATIENT NOTE : "When will this all be over?", "How will I know if the treatment is working?", "What do I do in the mean time?" These are but a few of the thousand questions that patients face - particularly those of us 'fortunate' enough to have dealt with a cancer battle more than once. Being a survivor is harder that it looks - especially when many of us (thanks in great part to better treatment) don't LOOK like we are SUFFERING from cancer. For me, besides weight loss in post-surgical recovery (not a recommenced weight loss plan by the way!) I don't look sick. I still have my hair, I am not running to the bathroom to barf my guts out. I don't collapse in public from exhaustion (at home is another thing though) I don't have the skeletal-pasty look that we see in so many movies. NOW however, I feel 'included' in the suffering. The current treatment I am on is called Erbitux - and it's main side affect is acne!!! Wee!! Yeah!!! Like being a teenager all over again. But, here in lies the interesting quirk of many cancer therapies, the 'expression of acne' as the doctors call it is a GOOD thing (???). Evidently this tells the doctors that the treatment is working - how the hell they determine that, I have yet to discover - it will require more internet searching on my part. The real challenge is that every so often on this treatment journey (mine is coming up on a full year, if you include my first surgery) is that we patients who are lucky enough to NOT be plagued by debilitating side effects slide back into our regular routines of family, work, friends, socializing and the like - with only minor punctuations of therapy and doctor visits. This is the danger - letting down the guard. It can be dangerous.
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Being a martial arts fan, I watch a lot of movies. True, not many are 'Oscar Worthy' but most have good messages if you watch them. One of my favorites is 'Blood Sport' - starring Jean-Claude Van Damme playing the fighter Frank Dux. Watching this movie with cancer in mind, it says a lot to me. Relax, and go with me... O.K....
Fighting cancer or fighting an opponent in a ring are very similar. I have used the Rocky metaphor before in my blog, but this 'fight-story' is a bit different, a bit more specific to what those of us who fight cancer on multiple fronts, or fight cancers that have morphed, moved, or changed just when we think we have them beat.
In the movie, my hero, Frank Dux is in a tournament - a secret tournament - much like my experience as a cancer patient. While in the movie most of Hong Kong 'knows' about the tournament, no one but the fighters, their seconds and those betting on the event actually know where it is, how it works - or that occasionally some of the fights end up in death.
For cancer patients it is the same. Yes, sure, we all know people who have had cancer - some have lived some have died. The public sees the parades, the various colored ribbons, the fundraisers, but what they do NOT see is the 'preparation' involved in getting ready to step into the ring and swap punches, kicks and gouges with the 'enemy'. Sorry, but unless you are in the arena, smell the sweat, taste the blood, breathe hard in your corner, and keep coming back you just don't get it.
Now, for those of us who have been 'fortunate' enough to deal with cancer more than once, our lives become like that of Frank Dux in the movie. Each time he steps into the ring, he faces a different opponent - this is my favorite part of the movie - Frank is forced to adapt to each style of fighter, forced to instantaneously recognize the approach, the techniques attacks and defenses he must adapt to in order to make it out of that fight.
Dealing with multiple cancers is JUST like that. For me, the first time around (20 years ago) the battle was fairly simple - warm up, get in the ring, exchange a few punches and kicks, take a few shots to the groin, but in the end I landed a knock out blow, and in effect went into 'retirement' I felt like a champion. I had won the battle.
However, or But, or wait a minute - there always seems to be some caveat to these stories. After having forgotten about the battle - I had been busy living, working, raising kids and all the other stuff required of life that I got lazy and all of a sudden I found my self, facing a new opponent, this one - like the character of Chong Li in the movie, a mountainous, steroid hyped mountain of a fighter, glaring at me from the ring, pointing his finger at me, proudly announcing that "You....are....next!!!" after watching him kill another fighter who he had at his mercy. You could see the 'fear' in Van Damme in his role of Dux, and had you been in the room with me when the doctor brought the second diagnosis to me, you would have seen the same expression on my face, I am sure.
This second time around, was much worse than the first. It required major surgery, long and painful. Recovery at home, long and painful, fraught with challenges - physical, mental, psychological. It was months before I was healed up and ready to face the new challenger in the ring.
If my live were the movie, this is where the 'montage' would be - in case you didn't realize there MUST be a montage of 'training-footage', accompanied by a kitchy-song which illustrates how the fighter gets prepared for his upcoming battle, and 'Blood Sport' is no different. The Dux montage follows him from childhood through adult-hood mastering all the teachings along the way, gaining the skills he will have to draw upon to do-battle with his opponents.
For me, the training montage would not be near as dramatic. Instead of pumping weights, sparring, catching fish with my bare hands and otherwise turning my body into a perfect physical specimen for fighting, I spent my time drinking protein shakes, eating healthy, sleeping alot, wandering around my house looking for things to do... watching television, reading about my condition on the internet... Not exactly movie-material, but it was how I got ready.
Like the character of Dux, I took on my new opponent with the help of Oxaliplatin, Xeloda and Radiation Therapy. The real challenge in 'filming' this battle is that were it a real movie, the screen would be blank...because the battle goes on internally, microscopically where no one can see the actual fight... and THAT is the challenge.
This part of the battle is much like the scenes where Dux is blindfolded by his master and forced to fight without the advantage of seeing where or how the next attack will come from - the same goes for the cancer patient. All I can do is sit in my treatment chair and take my next dose 'blind-folded' hoping that it works. The big difference for me is that so much of this most recent battle HAS been conducted behind the blindfold - I cannot SEE what works and what doesn't. All I can do is keep swinging and kicking, hoping to hit the target.
Back to the movie, the tension builds as one by one Dux defeats his opponent, leading (of course) to the big show down between he and Chong Li, and that is where I am now. Preparing for the next battle. Along the way, Dux watches his friend Jackson take on Chong Li. During Jackson's fight he thinks he has K.O'd the bigger, favored champion and runs around the ring celebrating, unbeknownst to him Chong Li (like cancer) gets back up and attacks Jackson again from behind, nearly killing him.
Dux watches his friend nearly die, and like all good friends, vows revenge. In my case, I have had to watch several family memberes be defeated by cancer, and understand the pain of Dux and the desire to win the battle for myself.
So, here I am again, thinking I am done fighting, the score card is snapped into place like in the movie: "Scott Lightfoot" vs. "Metastatic Colon Cancer". I step into the ring face off my against my own Chong Li and start trading punches.
Unlike the movie, where you can predict the obvious end, mine is not so certain. I am only a couple rounds into the fight. I FEEL like I am winning, but as before the interanl blind-folds are in full effect. I take my treatments, continue to do my 'montage-training-regimine' and we will see what we see.
The thing that really gives me hope is that in my 'treatment-corner' I not only have modern medicine, great doctors, a good team of treatment staff and the like. I am blessed with a wonderful wife - always there encouraging me to fight to not give up, to take care of my self. I also have my boys in my corner who want to see me win, and my cadre of friends and other relatives watching from their own 'support-television' sets as I continue to lay punches and kicks on my opponent....
_______________________________________________________________________
Being a martial arts fan, I watch a lot of movies. True, not many are 'Oscar Worthy' but most have good messages if you watch them. One of my favorites is 'Blood Sport' - starring Jean-Claude Van Damme playing the fighter Frank Dux. Watching this movie with cancer in mind, it says a lot to me. Relax, and go with me... O.K....
Fighting cancer or fighting an opponent in a ring are very similar. I have used the Rocky metaphor before in my blog, but this 'fight-story' is a bit different, a bit more specific to what those of us who fight cancer on multiple fronts, or fight cancers that have morphed, moved, or changed just when we think we have them beat.
In the movie, my hero, Frank Dux is in a tournament - a secret tournament - much like my experience as a cancer patient. While in the movie most of Hong Kong 'knows' about the tournament, no one but the fighters, their seconds and those betting on the event actually know where it is, how it works - or that occasionally some of the fights end up in death.
For cancer patients it is the same. Yes, sure, we all know people who have had cancer - some have lived some have died. The public sees the parades, the various colored ribbons, the fundraisers, but what they do NOT see is the 'preparation' involved in getting ready to step into the ring and swap punches, kicks and gouges with the 'enemy'. Sorry, but unless you are in the arena, smell the sweat, taste the blood, breathe hard in your corner, and keep coming back you just don't get it.
Now, for those of us who have been 'fortunate' enough to deal with cancer more than once, our lives become like that of Frank Dux in the movie. Each time he steps into the ring, he faces a different opponent - this is my favorite part of the movie - Frank is forced to adapt to each style of fighter, forced to instantaneously recognize the approach, the techniques attacks and defenses he must adapt to in order to make it out of that fight.
Dealing with multiple cancers is JUST like that. For me, the first time around (20 years ago) the battle was fairly simple - warm up, get in the ring, exchange a few punches and kicks, take a few shots to the groin, but in the end I landed a knock out blow, and in effect went into 'retirement' I felt like a champion. I had won the battle.
However, or But, or wait a minute - there always seems to be some caveat to these stories. After having forgotten about the battle - I had been busy living, working, raising kids and all the other stuff required of life that I got lazy and all of a sudden I found my self, facing a new opponent, this one - like the character of Chong Li in the movie, a mountainous, steroid hyped mountain of a fighter, glaring at me from the ring, pointing his finger at me, proudly announcing that "You....are....next!!!" after watching him kill another fighter who he had at his mercy. You could see the 'fear' in Van Damme in his role of Dux, and had you been in the room with me when the doctor brought the second diagnosis to me, you would have seen the same expression on my face, I am sure.
This second time around, was much worse than the first. It required major surgery, long and painful. Recovery at home, long and painful, fraught with challenges - physical, mental, psychological. It was months before I was healed up and ready to face the new challenger in the ring.
If my live were the movie, this is where the 'montage' would be - in case you didn't realize there MUST be a montage of 'training-footage', accompanied by a kitchy-song which illustrates how the fighter gets prepared for his upcoming battle, and 'Blood Sport' is no different. The Dux montage follows him from childhood through adult-hood mastering all the teachings along the way, gaining the skills he will have to draw upon to do-battle with his opponents.
For me, the training montage would not be near as dramatic. Instead of pumping weights, sparring, catching fish with my bare hands and otherwise turning my body into a perfect physical specimen for fighting, I spent my time drinking protein shakes, eating healthy, sleeping alot, wandering around my house looking for things to do... watching television, reading about my condition on the internet... Not exactly movie-material, but it was how I got ready.
Like the character of Dux, I took on my new opponent with the help of Oxaliplatin, Xeloda and Radiation Therapy. The real challenge in 'filming' this battle is that were it a real movie, the screen would be blank...because the battle goes on internally, microscopically where no one can see the actual fight... and THAT is the challenge.
This part of the battle is much like the scenes where Dux is blindfolded by his master and forced to fight without the advantage of seeing where or how the next attack will come from - the same goes for the cancer patient. All I can do is sit in my treatment chair and take my next dose 'blind-folded' hoping that it works. The big difference for me is that so much of this most recent battle HAS been conducted behind the blindfold - I cannot SEE what works and what doesn't. All I can do is keep swinging and kicking, hoping to hit the target.
Back to the movie, the tension builds as one by one Dux defeats his opponent, leading (of course) to the big show down between he and Chong Li, and that is where I am now. Preparing for the next battle. Along the way, Dux watches his friend Jackson take on Chong Li. During Jackson's fight he thinks he has K.O'd the bigger, favored champion and runs around the ring celebrating, unbeknownst to him Chong Li (like cancer) gets back up and attacks Jackson again from behind, nearly killing him.
Dux watches his friend nearly die, and like all good friends, vows revenge. In my case, I have had to watch several family memberes be defeated by cancer, and understand the pain of Dux and the desire to win the battle for myself.
So, here I am again, thinking I am done fighting, the score card is snapped into place like in the movie: "Scott Lightfoot" vs. "Metastatic Colon Cancer". I step into the ring face off my against my own Chong Li and start trading punches.
Unlike the movie, where you can predict the obvious end, mine is not so certain. I am only a couple rounds into the fight. I FEEL like I am winning, but as before the interanl blind-folds are in full effect. I take my treatments, continue to do my 'montage-training-regimine' and we will see what we see.
The thing that really gives me hope is that in my 'treatment-corner' I not only have modern medicine, great doctors, a good team of treatment staff and the like. I am blessed with a wonderful wife - always there encouraging me to fight to not give up, to take care of my self. I also have my boys in my corner who want to see me win, and my cadre of friends and other relatives watching from their own 'support-television' sets as I continue to lay punches and kicks on my opponent....
