It is NOT over yet.

It all started last November, or maybe before that, I am not really sure. A simple procedure to make sure things were good and OK, that turned my thought process around forever. Both of my parents died from different forms of cancer, but I never thought I would have cancer too. Eventho my cancer was not as bad as many people thought, it was still cancer. And cancer is a thing, I believe, never really goes away. In my case,  it may be because of my own neglect that the doctor found cancer. Maybe if I had not been stubborn and had my normally scheduled colonoscopy, I may not have to go through a colon/bladder surgery and the following chemo treatments. But history can not be reversed or turned around. Maybe it was meant to be as a message to pay attention to your body and treat it well by get things checked when the doctors tell you. Who knows.

Now, after a few months going through the chemo infusions and the sleepless night in my recliner, I still feel I escaped the worse cancer had instore for me if I had not acted quickly, and did not get some great medical caregivers.

Thursday evening at a 'Boy's Night' gathering of retired firefighters, I sat next to a firefighter who went through pure hell with his cancer ordeal. His was related to the job and had to fight to get it recognized as a Workman's Comp case. Then, several surgeries, radiation and chemo treatments, more surgeries and excruciating pain, along with many months in the hospital. As the night ended and our discussions ended, I felt I had been blessed to not even come close to what he endured. As I have said many times, "There is always someone who has it worse than you". And he definitely did.

My side-effect inconveniences I experienced were exactly that, inconveniences. But as the title reads, 'It is NOT over yet'. I still have blood tests and Cat-Scans to go through to make sure nothing was missed and the cancer cells did not move somewhere else to do their dirty work. And if they did, well, we'll deal with that like I did before. There is not 'quitting' when dealing with cancer. You just find another way to defeat it, or slow it down, or remove it.

Until the tests are completed, I do what I always did, enjoy my family, travel and restore vintage cars. And even if the tests are not what I wanted to hear, I will continue to do what I like in life as long as possible.

Next week, Nancy and I along with our youngest grandson are going camping for a week in a cooler place in Arizona. We will be gone over the 4th of July for the tall pines of northeastern Arizona at nearly 8,000 feet, so I will not be posting a blog next Sunday, but relaxing and hanging out with friends and family.

So until the next blog, take care, stay safe and don't be crazy with fireworks. HAPPY 4th everyone! 

 

Losing someone you love and look-up to is tough.

 I suppose my childhood was not the TV version of the best, but it wasn't the worse either. We did not have a lot of money, or live in a house, mostly small unattractive apartments in some questionable neighborhoods but I did not care. I was with my loving parents. At least one was, my mother. My father had just gotten discharged from the Navy after WWll and was still young and wild, like most were then. He came to Cincinnati to stay with his older brother and look for a job. My mother was born in Alabama and moved to Cincinnati for work in a factory during the war. After they met, I was born the following year in 1946. I never asked them how they met, and when I was old enough to think about that, they were gone. They both came from the 'Great Generation' who never really discussed things like that.

At age 7, I was shipped off to my mother's parents farm in Alabama. For the next year I lived in an old farm house with no electric or indoor plumbing. I went to school there, and actually got the best grades ever, and I worked in the fields along side of my two uncles (mom's younger brothers) and grandparents. I picked cotton by hand, carried iced water to my grandfather as he plowed the fields behind a horse, took baths in a big wash tub, and fought with my uncles throwing mud hardened corn cobs at each other. Boy did they hurt. When they finally got electricity and water in doors, along with a telephone, I'd talk to my mother back in Cincinnati. My dad never called, or at least I don't remember him calling. He did came by and picked me up to go stay in a moldy old cabin next to a big dam. It was the worse time for a week. I got a bad sunburn cause he said I was too pale and needed to get a tan. No 'Coppertone' tan lotion back then.

When my mom finally came and got me, we lived in these small apartments for years. As a 5th grader, we moved 5 times and I was in 5 different schools in some rough neighborhoods where I learned to street fight to save my pale body and chubby appearance. My mother worked in a department store running elevators, eventually becoming the elevator girl for the owner of the store. She always worked and always was loving and we always had what we needed to survive, food, presentable clothing and a roof over our heads. But she needed a loving partner. To me, it seemed like she could not find the right guy. It wasn't until I was 12 years old she found a guy she would marry. Carl was his name and he become my step-father until he died. My father and I did finally reunited years later but it was a stand-offish manner. He never was the lovey-dovey type.  I wanted that relationship, but he just accepted it and went along.

Fast forward to many years later, my dad got skin cancer which was the cause of his death. We did talk in his last days and he told me he was sorry and loved me. First I remember him saying that. My mother passed in the same hospital building we both were born in. Her in 1924 and me in 1946. But I did not mean to bore you with my life story.

To my title point, when my dad passed, I was not at lose as I was when my mother died. Maybe because I felt my dad did not love me like my mother had. When I asked my dad to help with anything, it was with a long deep exhale and an reluctant "OK". My mother was always happy to help me. But she was never ready wanted to discuss my thoughts and dreams for my future. Maybe that was the way of that generation. Never really discuss or talk about personal thoughts and feelings with your kids. I missed not talking to them about my feelings on life in general. But now they are gone.  I have changed that in our family. We talk about ANYTHING the grand kids want to talk about. And we clear our schedule anytime they want help. 

It is hard to lose your parents because sometimes you feel like an orphan, but you're not. Your parents can not be replaced and part of them lives in you, like old photos, memories they cause you to remember, some things you do emulate them. But this is not just about parents, but anyone that means a lot to you. Siblings, friends, aunts and uncles, co-workers, anyone you cared for. You can never fill that void or their shoes. You have to remember the good times and times you spent with them. Cherish friends and relatives NOW before it is too late, even if you don't see eye-to-eye. And if you are lucky enough to still have your parents, ask them those hard questions now before...

Today is Father's Day and I miss both of my parents. They may not have been perfect parents but I am sure somewhere deep down they loved you as much as they could, and in their own way. Respect that and take comfort as you look through those old family photos and films. 

Take care and stay safe.

Good news

This last Wednesday, I received some good news from my Oncologist at the Infusion/Cancer Center. Week before last was, to me, was the week from HELL. I had no, NO energy, my mouth felt like a mouth full of needles, I lost most of the feeling in my fingers and toes, some of my hair started to fall out (which I expected that since I am going bald anyway), and I was becoming irritable and short tempered, which I never wanted to do. The Doctor said, "That is what I wanted to hear." I replied, "You did, and why." "That means you hit your max so now we can stop the Chemo."  I was surprised and glad. I said, "Why didn't you tell me that" "Because I knew you were a tough guy (me 'tough'?) and wanted to go until you could not stand any more, so when you said 'the week from Hell, I knew we hit your stop time."  

Now that does not mean I am in remission. That will still be testing for remains of the cancer. If there are none then I am good, but if there are, we continue with some more chemo.  And then there is a CT Scan in July too. I asked him about the infusion port removal. I guess we'll get that taken out after Nancy and I get back from Africa in late August. It does not bother me anyway.

Typically when you stop the treatments, it is semi-customary to go up to the nurse's station and ring a brass bell to tell the other patients and world you are done. But I did not do that. I just wanted to hugs the great nurses that was SO caring to me and the other patients that come in there. I could not do their job and watch some of the patient dwindle away. Especially the kids. I may have shed a tear or two as I exited the center. Let me admit it, Cancer really sucks and no damn fun, and I feel I had the light version. The nurses and the great staff made my time bearable sitting there for 3 hours while being infused with chemicals that basically kill your immune system and in return give you pain and and plenty of 'inconveniences'. God bless the more serious patients and their journey. And God bless the nurses that hold your hand and treat you like family while you endure it all. They are angels. Truly.

Now I can almost get back to a semi-normal life, as long as I get rid of the brain-fog and needles in my hands and mouth. I maybe able to feel a nut or bolt and get my taste back and feel the pleasure of cold ice cream and iced tea soon. We'll see.

Until then, you can have some as my alter ego and tell me how it was. So take it easy, stay safe and comment and follow me.