PATIENT NOTE: In the world of life-threatening illness of any kind, the passage of time is really, really strange for the patient. Some days drag on seemingly for ever, while sometimes weeks seem to pass by in an instant. On the other hand, waiting rooms, operating recovery rooms, bed rest and the like seem to put us in a world where seconds seem hardly to tick by at all - for us - but we watch the world around us zoom by like a whirl wind. So too, goes my writing. In many ways this blog has been wonderfully cathartic on one hand, and on the other it has seemed like an overwhelming responsibility - to KEEP writing, to KEEP sharing as if there is a duty attached to it - sometimes it became a chore, so it gets ignored. I think maybe a better way to look at it is, as a patient - even one as blabber-mouthed as me - gets tired of talking about 'it' and thinking about 'it' so, I just let it go, after all if it becomes a chore, then the enjoyment I usually get goes away. So, for those of you who are readers, if I go 'silent' for a time, please take the above into consideration. But for now, I feel the need to write.
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DATELINE : Toledo, Ohio March 6th, 2012 - It has been a smidge over a year since my first surgery. The one, originally designed to remove my colon cancer and set me back on my merry way. If you have followed my writing in this blog, you will know that the surgery got more complicated and instead of a temporary colonic 'set-back' I ended up with a permanent ileostomy. To review, for those who may be new to the game, here is the Reader's Digest version: They removed my entire colon, tried unsuccessfully to save my, uhh... poop chute and associated parts, leaving me with a new orifice on my belly and forcing me to catch my stuff in a bag for the rest of my life.
The key word here being LIFE. I want to take this moment to thank, sincerely my entire Surgical team at the Cleveland Clinic - Dr. David Dietz and staff for their excellent work. Their efforts have given me 'Pedro' (named by Malcolm, my son, you will have to look back at the older posts for that story!), who, despite what I have read from others with this same condition, has been very, very problem free, as artificially created orifices go. Knocking on everything wooden (for luck), I have adapted fairly well to this 'life changing' event and in the bigger picture of everything I have been dealing with the process of getting used to caring for a stoma has been the easiest thing of all.
As is the case, I guess, living with anything long enough will eventually become routine, and that is pretty much the case for me. Thankfully, I empty when necessary, change my appliance a couple times a week, and have returned to a fairly 'normal' life, as it is. And, for those who don't know my history, when I am out in the 'world' no one knows the difference between the 'old' me and the 'new' me. So, a successful (more or less) procedure to remove the cancer and return me to 'normalcy' has brought me to today. Along the way, though, things were not always so cheery.
Again, summarizing, the period of recovery at home was long and somewhat arduous and often boring. I was happy to return to work late last spring, and enjoyed very much my job in the Security System Industry. The summer brought chemotherapy to treat for cancer that may have been left behind - microscopic - from the surgery, and again, I had the good grace to have an employer who worked with my needs for time off during treatment.
Summer moved towards fall, and I was hit with two more challenges. First, I was laid off due to the economy from my Security job, which was hard enough to take, and then shortly after it was discovered during medical scans that my cancer had indeed metastasized to my liver and lung - meaning more surgery, and more treatment.
This time around things got really ugly for me, mentally, psychologically and even spiritually. I began to see (from my view point) everything slipping away; no job, cancer is back, kids growing and moving on, and even, I thought, my marriage had little value anymore, since, again from my point of view, there was little chance of being around much longer anyhow. And, since I try to be as honest as possible with my writing, I contemplated suicide several times during the late fall and winter. Everything seemed hopeless. I even tried to 'put my game face on' by diving back into art work, all the while hiding how I really felt, and not doing a very good job of expressing my feelings about what I needed from others.
I want to take a moment here to say, though, that all along - despite MY messed up vision - I was surrounded by family and friends that loved, cared and hoped for me. I don't know where or when exactly but at some point I had an epiphany and realized that if not for myself, I owed it to all the people around me to fight, struggle and get on with my life. I realized that, as simplistic as it sounds, that none of us - with cancer or without - knows how much time we have left, and for me to wallow around in continual self-pity and anguish about my condition, I needed to get up and do what needs to be done to keep going, to be around for as long as I can. And, again, I could not have done this without ALL the people who have shown such care and concern along the way.
So, bring on January 2012... A complicated month of pain, anguish, tears, desperation, rediscovery, joy and renewed happiness and hope - again back to my original notes on the 'time-warp' - this past couple of months have seemed to last forever, as I moved moved back into touch with the really important things in LIFE.
First, LIFE itself. It is never easy no matter what the circumstance, but the fact that I am still here is so unbelievably amazing, that sometimes I don't feel worthy.
Second, MY WIFE - the one person who has been through everything with me along the way, the one person, that no matter how hard I pushed away at times, never, ever, really let go. Rediscovering the depth of our commitment and how after over a quarter of a century we still love each other through it all is again, simply mind boggling.
Third, MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS - I will say again (you are probably bored of this now, but, hey, this IS my blog anyhow!) your support has given me the will to keep going and every one of you at one time or another, in one way or another have given me something to hold on to and to keep the desire to stay strong and get better alive.
Fourth, MY LOVE OF ART - since my illness has pretty much stripped me of the chance of returning to 'regular' employment at least for a while, I have had a lot of time to rediscover, rejuvenate and grow as an artist. I am sure that I will not become the next Picasso, Pollock, or VanGoh, but I am certain I can make art and make a living at it. Developing this avenue of both creative energy and potential for income has become my new focus, challenging, yes, but worth it none the less because I really do love what I am able to do.
Continuing on is the challenge. February has brought another round of medical adventure, as I began treatment for the cancer that has spread from my colon to liver. There is good news on the treatment front, as I am sure I have mentioned before, genetic testing of the cancer showed it to be a good match for a new treatment protocol and medicine called 'Erbitux' that will, in combination with another drug called Irinotecan be very effective at eliminating this batch of tumors.
As of this past Friday, I have been through three of eight treatment cycles, and besides expected (and welcomed by the Doctors at least) side effects, have been tolerating them well. I get tired a lot, but my lab work shows things are 'normal', and we will just have to wait to see what the scans later in the spring tell us as to the effectiveness of the treatment. In the mean time, I will LIVE.
Though I still have some days that are flecked with moments of depression and fear, most are good. My focus on my family and my art work has rejuvenated my spirits as has keeping in contact with my friends and planning for all the events and activities that the burgeoning spring and summer months holds for all of us as the year goes on.
So, to finish up for the morning; Anniversaries and Mileposts... The last year has not been 'un-interesting' and I do not wish to have another one like it in most respects, but for whatever reasons beyond my comprehension I am allowed to continue on, I hope to have many, many more and to keep adding wonderful things to my life and to continue to appreciate all the life, love and happiness that I am surrounded with on a daily basis. Despite all that I have been through the past couple years, I would like to think that I am becoming a better person, better husband, father and friend along the way.
Here's to, oh, I don't know another 50 or 60 years or so of living the life I love and loving the life I live....
_________________________________________
DATELINE : Toledo, Ohio March 6th, 2012 - It has been a smidge over a year since my first surgery. The one, originally designed to remove my colon cancer and set me back on my merry way. If you have followed my writing in this blog, you will know that the surgery got more complicated and instead of a temporary colonic 'set-back' I ended up with a permanent ileostomy. To review, for those who may be new to the game, here is the Reader's Digest version: They removed my entire colon, tried unsuccessfully to save my, uhh... poop chute and associated parts, leaving me with a new orifice on my belly and forcing me to catch my stuff in a bag for the rest of my life.
The key word here being LIFE. I want to take this moment to thank, sincerely my entire Surgical team at the Cleveland Clinic - Dr. David Dietz and staff for their excellent work. Their efforts have given me 'Pedro' (named by Malcolm, my son, you will have to look back at the older posts for that story!), who, despite what I have read from others with this same condition, has been very, very problem free, as artificially created orifices go. Knocking on everything wooden (for luck), I have adapted fairly well to this 'life changing' event and in the bigger picture of everything I have been dealing with the process of getting used to caring for a stoma has been the easiest thing of all.
As is the case, I guess, living with anything long enough will eventually become routine, and that is pretty much the case for me. Thankfully, I empty when necessary, change my appliance a couple times a week, and have returned to a fairly 'normal' life, as it is. And, for those who don't know my history, when I am out in the 'world' no one knows the difference between the 'old' me and the 'new' me. So, a successful (more or less) procedure to remove the cancer and return me to 'normalcy' has brought me to today. Along the way, though, things were not always so cheery.
Again, summarizing, the period of recovery at home was long and somewhat arduous and often boring. I was happy to return to work late last spring, and enjoyed very much my job in the Security System Industry. The summer brought chemotherapy to treat for cancer that may have been left behind - microscopic - from the surgery, and again, I had the good grace to have an employer who worked with my needs for time off during treatment.
Summer moved towards fall, and I was hit with two more challenges. First, I was laid off due to the economy from my Security job, which was hard enough to take, and then shortly after it was discovered during medical scans that my cancer had indeed metastasized to my liver and lung - meaning more surgery, and more treatment.
This time around things got really ugly for me, mentally, psychologically and even spiritually. I began to see (from my view point) everything slipping away; no job, cancer is back, kids growing and moving on, and even, I thought, my marriage had little value anymore, since, again from my point of view, there was little chance of being around much longer anyhow. And, since I try to be as honest as possible with my writing, I contemplated suicide several times during the late fall and winter. Everything seemed hopeless. I even tried to 'put my game face on' by diving back into art work, all the while hiding how I really felt, and not doing a very good job of expressing my feelings about what I needed from others.
I want to take a moment here to say, though, that all along - despite MY messed up vision - I was surrounded by family and friends that loved, cared and hoped for me. I don't know where or when exactly but at some point I had an epiphany and realized that if not for myself, I owed it to all the people around me to fight, struggle and get on with my life. I realized that, as simplistic as it sounds, that none of us - with cancer or without - knows how much time we have left, and for me to wallow around in continual self-pity and anguish about my condition, I needed to get up and do what needs to be done to keep going, to be around for as long as I can. And, again, I could not have done this without ALL the people who have shown such care and concern along the way.
So, bring on January 2012... A complicated month of pain, anguish, tears, desperation, rediscovery, joy and renewed happiness and hope - again back to my original notes on the 'time-warp' - this past couple of months have seemed to last forever, as I moved moved back into touch with the really important things in LIFE.
First, LIFE itself. It is never easy no matter what the circumstance, but the fact that I am still here is so unbelievably amazing, that sometimes I don't feel worthy.
Second, MY WIFE - the one person who has been through everything with me along the way, the one person, that no matter how hard I pushed away at times, never, ever, really let go. Rediscovering the depth of our commitment and how after over a quarter of a century we still love each other through it all is again, simply mind boggling.
Third, MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS - I will say again (you are probably bored of this now, but, hey, this IS my blog anyhow!) your support has given me the will to keep going and every one of you at one time or another, in one way or another have given me something to hold on to and to keep the desire to stay strong and get better alive.
Fourth, MY LOVE OF ART - since my illness has pretty much stripped me of the chance of returning to 'regular' employment at least for a while, I have had a lot of time to rediscover, rejuvenate and grow as an artist. I am sure that I will not become the next Picasso, Pollock, or VanGoh, but I am certain I can make art and make a living at it. Developing this avenue of both creative energy and potential for income has become my new focus, challenging, yes, but worth it none the less because I really do love what I am able to do.
Continuing on is the challenge. February has brought another round of medical adventure, as I began treatment for the cancer that has spread from my colon to liver. There is good news on the treatment front, as I am sure I have mentioned before, genetic testing of the cancer showed it to be a good match for a new treatment protocol and medicine called 'Erbitux' that will, in combination with another drug called Irinotecan be very effective at eliminating this batch of tumors.
As of this past Friday, I have been through three of eight treatment cycles, and besides expected (and welcomed by the Doctors at least) side effects, have been tolerating them well. I get tired a lot, but my lab work shows things are 'normal', and we will just have to wait to see what the scans later in the spring tell us as to the effectiveness of the treatment. In the mean time, I will LIVE.
Though I still have some days that are flecked with moments of depression and fear, most are good. My focus on my family and my art work has rejuvenated my spirits as has keeping in contact with my friends and planning for all the events and activities that the burgeoning spring and summer months holds for all of us as the year goes on.
So, to finish up for the morning; Anniversaries and Mileposts... The last year has not been 'un-interesting' and I do not wish to have another one like it in most respects, but for whatever reasons beyond my comprehension I am allowed to continue on, I hope to have many, many more and to keep adding wonderful things to my life and to continue to appreciate all the life, love and happiness that I am surrounded with on a daily basis. Despite all that I have been through the past couple years, I would like to think that I am becoming a better person, better husband, father and friend along the way.
Here's to, oh, I don't know another 50 or 60 years or so of living the life I love and loving the life I live....
