Moving forward…slowly…

Hello to all from virtual Bloggerville. I’m getting treatment #3 as I am writing this, so there’s plenty of time on my end to update everyone as each treatment lasts about 6 hours. I often get the question “what are the actual treatments like?” Basically, you sit in a room and get an IV drip of the various medications while you stare at the ceiling. Being that I can’t sit still for more than 2 minutes, I tend to fill up the time during treatment with various activities. Today it’s a laptop and blog update.

A lot has happened since my last post. If you will recall, my liver was going haywire due to unknown reasons. I went through a biopsy and they ruled out any permanent damage such as hepatitis, cirrhosis, Wilson’s disease, etc. Anesthesia from the surgery can elevate numbers, drugs can elevate numbers, heck, your liver filters out all the bad stuff so there are a bunch of things going into my body that could cause problems. But they still weren’t exactly sure what was going on. If I continued to get chemo treatments, my liver could potentially be permanently damaged, so….I needed to find out what was happening. I started getting frustrated and finally thought “I wonder what my numbers were before my surgery in March?” This was a valid question due to the fact that I had slightly elevated numbers 2 years ago during a routine annual physical. A phone call to my surgeon’s office revealed a major clue. All of my liver enzymes were normal prior to surgery. What does this mean? The stress of surgery, the medications, the anesthesia, the chemo; you name it, all of this stuff was affecting my liver. Finally! I have some relief from the suspense of wondering why my liver enzymes were going off the charts. Poor thing, I can just see my liver placing an ad in the personals > “Liver, sensitive and easily inflamed, seeking non-toxic relationship. Call…” Okay, I know, I’m losing it. I blame it on chemo. It does strange things to the brain.

July 4th was spent with friends in Charleston and we had a blast. Their children are our god children, and the three of them are a hoot. It was so nice to get away for a few days and enjoy life away from cancer and chemo. I got to play golf for the first time since early March and played unexpectedly well. We visited Kiawah Island, which was our honeymoon destination almost 21 years ago (man, are we getting old…). We had appetizers on top of a hotel in historic downtown Charleston with the balmy breezes coming off the ocean and a wonderful view of the setting sun over the water. It was a fabulous weekend that allowed us to get away from it all, if only for a few days. We finished the weekend with fireworks imported from SC and illegally launched in NC. Half the neighborhood showed up soon after the fireworks started, and we did a fairly good job. You know the rockets mounted on the end of a long wooden stick that shoot up into the air and explode? Well, we had a bunch of those, and we successfully hit our neighbor’s roof and a pine tree above another neighbor’s home. Good thing it had been raining a lot because we could have set something on fire! Ah yes, nothing like some sensible, mature, adult fun (and we wonder why our kids do stupid things).

July 5th found me back at the Cancer Center for treatment #2. It had been 7 weeks since treatment #1, yet I’m supposed to be on an every other Monday schedule. The delay was due to the terrible side affects I encountered after my first treatment (see post below entitled “Honeymoon’s over…”). Before treatment started, my research nurse showed up with a concerned look on her face. I asked her what was wrong, and she proceeded to tell me that I was going to be removed from the clinical study. She anticipated disappointment on my behalf, but I expressed quite the opposite. What if this new, cutting edge drug was causing some of the major problems I had from the first treatment? Sure enough, I went through the second treatment without the terrible mouth sores and painful acne. The acne was expected, the mouth sores and their severity were a first for my oncologist in all of his years of practice. I’ve since told her this was my contribution to the clinical study; mouth sores so bad that you can’t eat, talk, or hardly drink for 5+ days. Ouch!

The days following the second treatment were spent in anxious anticipation of the dreaded side affects. Will they be as bad as the last time? Will I be out of commission for days? (Pun intended, I am in sales and make my living on commissions.) Will the nausea and vomiting come back again? Can I travel to see my customers in Charlotte and Raleigh without thinking twice about leaving home and not having access to a medication I may need at a moments notice? Thankfully, only the nausea hit me this time. Got sick a few times, but it wasn’t anything major. I now better understand morning sickness for all those expectant-mommies-to-be. The funny thing is the nausea is not always constant; it sometimes hits me like a bullet, sends me to my knees in an instant, and then goes away. I did find something that helps offset the nausea. Bubblegum. When I got that nasty feeling in my gut, I popped a piece of Double Bubble in my mouth and it helped alleviate the feeling about half the time. Hey, it works for me so don’t laugh!

During a recent Sunday sermon, our pastor said you need to “spend less time looking in the mirror and more time looking out the window.” Perfectly stated in my opinion. So many of us are wrapped up in our own stuff. I’m as guilty as the next guy, but I have noticed a change since I was diagnosed with cancer. I don’t know about you, but throughout my life I’ve often wondered – what would I do if I heard the words “you have cancer?” My exclusive response was not good, pretty typical. Stress, anxiety, fear, the “Oh my God!” syndrome and visions in my brain of me running out the door with my arms flailing and my hair on fire. Surprisingly, it has been quite the opposite. Right after my diagnosis, my wife prayed for peace. God has clearly delivered what was requested. I am not consumed with fear, constantly wondering what’s going to happen next. The Rev. Billy Graham was interviewed a couple years ago by Larry King, and Larry asked Rev. Graham if he feared death. His response? No! I’m looking forward to it! How many of us can say that? I don’t think I’m that far along yet, but I do know that whatever happens is in God’s hands, not mine. I deeply feel God has a plan for me and it’s something big. What is it? Don’t ask, He hasn’t told me yet. But I do have the gut feeling that my work on this earth is far from done, and a little voice is telling me to get ready, you are about to embark on a journey that will blow you away. It gets me excited just to think about it. If anything it’s fun to let your mind go wild with anticipation of what it could be, what it may be.

As I’ve said so many times but could never say enough, “thank you” to everyone that has stayed in touch with me, prayed for me, cooked for my family, mowed my lawn, given me hugs, etc. I am amazed at the far reaching response I continue to get from folks I don’t even know. People keep saying “I’m sure you’re sick of talking about all you’re going through”, but I’m not. The talking and writing is therapeutic for me. The cool thing is my mind continues to expand as I go through this experience and I feel compelled to share it with others, especially those that are fighting their own battles. I’ve had so many people tell me I’m brave, courageous, fearless, even inspiring. Brave? Not in my opinion. Courageous? Well, you have to do what you have to do. Fearless? Come see me at 3AM when I can’t sleep due to my concern about _____ (fill in the blank with whatever ails you). Inspiring? That is a wonderful compliment. What I’ve come to understand is a magic little word that means so much to everyone on this planet, regardless of race, religion, gender, age – you name it. It is a word that defines your next move, your motivation or lack thereof. It brings a smile to your face, relief to your exhausted mind. Not having it causes extreme stress, anxiety, and even thoughts of ending your life. Think about this for a minute…what could that be in one word yet is something that is huge? Hope. Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope that things will get better. Hope that you will survive the turmoil that may currently surround you and even consume you. Hope that the next horizon will reveal a rising sun that will illuminate your world with a warm glow that soothes the soul. Hope that somehow, some way, you are going to emerge on the other side and be rewarded for your persistence, for your patience, and for your perseverance. Have you ever seen the movie The Big Chill? In one of the opening scenes there is a funeral for a young man that committed suicide. The movie is based in coastal South Carolina, and all of his friends from college gathered at a small, low country church where the congregation sits in the pews with fans in their hands to break the stifling heat. The preacher, an older gentleman with a weary look on his face, delivered a sermon that ended with the line “where did the hope go” for this young man that took his life? For many of us, we have lost hope. Where did it go? For me, oddly enough, it took cancer for me to find hope. It took cancer to open my eyes, look out the window, and enjoy the beautiful view in front of me. When is the last time you marveled at a field of colorful flowers? When is the last time you woke up to a sunny morning and said out loud “this is going to be an AWESOME day!” For me, both of these things happened before 9AM today, before going in for another round of chemo cocktails. I’ve never been one to take anything for granted. I’ve always stopped and literally smelled the roses, because they have a wonderfully delicious scent. But there were times, too many of them, that I now realize I was looking into the mirror. I was consumed with my own trials, so much so that it was breaking me down slowly like a river cutting a canyon into the earth. Don’t let this happen to you, you are too valuable to those around you. I’ve set a goal to bring happiness, laughter, and inspiration to those I come in contact with, as often as I can. When I see other people respond positively to my demeanor, it makes ME happy, even if I do have cancer. Selfish fulfillment while helping others. Not a bad deal.

So, how do I close this up? Every day, I thank God for what He has given me. A beautiful family, the opportunity to worship when and where I please, chocolate chip ice cream on a sugar cone from Baskins Robbins, watching Lance Armstrong LiveSTRONG by kicking everyone’s butt in the Tour de France for the seventh time and this after beating insurmountable odds in his battle with cancer several years ago, a job that rewards me for performing above and beyond by recognizing my skills and paying me in the process, a Friday night and into Saturday morning at Hemingway’s in downtown Greensboro with friends and having fun, a large Dr. Pepper, playing tug of war with a pug that has bad breath…you get the drift. It’s all good and I’m thankful for every bit of it.

Till next time, Brian.