Introduction

Welcome to “Nothing New.” The goal of my blog in the past has been to stimulate discussion about all things related to CBC, the Christian life, and the world at large. But it has recently been hijacked by my cancer and treatment. This means I have to eat some crow (which I hate) because early on I boldly claimed I would not allow my condition to take center stage in my life.

But it is taking center stage on my blog – for a while. I am rather torn about this development. I am uncomfortable making this all about me – because it’s not. It is strangely therapeutic for me to blog about this, however, and I cannot express even a fraction of my appreciation for everyone who reads and leaves their funny, weird, and /or encouraging words in comments and emails.

So please join with me in dialogue. I always look forward to reading your comments. (If you'd like to follow my cancer journey from day 1, please go to my post on 6/25/08 - Life Takes Guts - in the archives and follow the posts upwards from there.)

Sunday, November 30, 2008

6 Random Weekend Observations

(1) I started taking humongous dosages of steroids yesterday (this is in addition to the regular steroids I sometimes get). It was a little hard to fall asleep. And I woke up wide-eyed at 5:00 am with my fingers playing percussion on my mattress to the tune of “Brick House” by the Commodores. If that offends, don’t hold it against me. I’ll try to wake up to some good and wholesome Gaithers next time.

(2) There is nothing very good on TV on Sunday mornings between 5:00 and 9:00.

(3) Speaking of Sunday TV…. I’ve discovered the formula for being wildly wrong and yet wildly popular at the same time. 70% name-it-claim-it-positive-thinking-pop-psychology-mind-over-matter-health-and-wealth jibberish. 25% sweet disposition, boyish good-looks, and sincere personality. 5% eye blinking like on the verge of a seizure. Voila – you are tickling the ears (and pocketbooks) of people with half-truths and Scripture taken out of context with no serious exegesis. It’s actually worse than that, but I’ll reserve my more scathing comments for some other day, when I’m not on steroids perhaps. (Thom, your parents have influential contacts in Houston. Can’t they DO something about that nonsense?)

(4) Humongous dosages of steroids might make a person want to eat like a horse, but they do not make hospital food taste any better. I wonder if pizza places deliver to hospitals.

(5) Having family visit me in the hospital is always good. But it was a little disconcerting to have my mother suggest to my sister that she pluck the few hairs I have left on my legs. My sister actually did. She’s got a weird thing for popping bubble wrap and stuff, so I shouldn’t be surprised, though.

(6) I love BCS chaos.

Thanks for checking in on my blog. I’m feeling much better than I did a few days ago. It looks like I MIGHT be able to go home in the next day or two.

Enjoy my early morning tune below….

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Do They Serve Tofurkey at the Hospital?

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!
You know that Norman Rockwell painting where the mom is setting a huge turkey down on the table in front of dad, who stands ready to carve it while the other family members look on in anticipation of the coming feast? Well, it's looking a little different than that around our house today. Aaron woke up early this morning with a fever and was admitted to the hospital about 10: 30. We were told to expect that this might happen...his immune system is just shot...and it isn't anything to worry too much about. They'll treat him with IV antibiotics and between that and the shots he's taking to help his immune system rebound, he'll be feeling better in a few days. He's not thrilled about spending the holiday in the hospital, but as the doctor said this morning, he'll miss this one so that he can celebrate the next 50! My mom and I weren't sure how long I'd be at the hospital this morning, so we decided to wait until this evening to have our "feast" here at home. One of the small groups from church brought us a deep-fried turkey, all the side dishes, and a couple of desserts yesterday and we are looking forward to that! Even though it has turned out to be unlike any Thanksgiving we've ever had before (in fact, this is the first time EVER that we haven't gone to Kansas!) we have many, many reasons to give thanks!
Shanda

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Tofurkey

I have been intending to write a Thanksgiving post before now. I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a "typical" Thanksgiving post, but I certainly have much to be thankful for and I would like to share some of those things with you.

The problem is that I just don't have the strength or energy to get it done right now. My body has taken a pounding for 7 rounds of chemo and I'm just not able to muster enough sustained focus to get the post written right now.

I will get it done, though, eventually. For now, you should know that I am thankful to be home with my family and getting some rest in my own bed. I am also thankful for all of you who stop by to read and leave your encouraging words!

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!

P.S. Tanner saw a cooking show the other day and afterwards suggested we have tofurkey for Thanksgiving dinner. We're gonna pass.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Yesterday and Today

Uh oh. I failed. I promised to post every day – and I missed yesterday. Here is a list of possible excuses (er, I mean, explanations):

(1) Chemo brain. This is a real condition. Don’t believe me?
Look it up. Would the Mayo Clinic lie? I don’t think so.

(2) I was on Benadryl yesterday during my blogging time. They give Benadryl before blood transfusions and it seriously knocks me out.

(3) I was busy compiling a list of honorable mentions for classic 80’s tunes with the words milk jugs mixed in and lost track of time.

(4) I got distracted watching Arrested Development, The Office, and Heroes.

The great news, though, is that I am getting discharged today. I’m feeling pretty good as of right now, but I am very tired. I haven’t been getting much sleep (outside of my Benadryl coma). So I am looking forward (as usual) to getting into my own bed soon.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Tumor Rumor

The Conway Cancer Foundation has a newsletter they publish periodically - The Tumor Rumor. The next issue is going to highlight issues of religion and faith as they relate to cancer and treatment. I have been asked, along with a couple of other gentlemen, to submit a short article describing my own experience. I am going to post a draft below for your your review. You have one day to offer any suggestions for improvements or corrections - I don't want to teach any heresy.

First let me share my purpose in writing. I am NOT attempting to lay out a plan of salvation for readers, nor am I attempting to make a defense of the Christian faith compared to others. Those are appropriate activities, just not here in The Tumor Rumor. My goal is to encourage readers to examine their own faith journey and perhaps plant some seeds. I want to encourage dialogue amongst people struggling with their faith in the midst of cancer. Having said that, read the short article below and tell me what you think (and remember I had a word limit- which I have already exceeded).

For most of the twentieth century, folks in my field of study have been hostile towards religion and spiritual faith. Many early psychiatrists and psychologists believed that religion was a cause of mental disturbances or that only those with mental disturbances turned to religion. This has always been at odds with patients and clients who have described their faith as a healthy and sustaining factor in the midst of their ailments. And it has only been in the past two decades that researchers have noted the positive role of religion in both general medicine and mental health. Allow me to very briefly describe how my own religious faith has sustained me in the midst of my cancer and chemotherapy.

My faith has provided me with a healthy perspective on life – my past, present, and future. My faith reminds me that nothing I’ve done previously in life gives me a pass from sad or painful conditions. It’s not like I should be exempt from bad things. In fact, if anything, I deserve far worse than I ever get. And whatever I have to deal with in the midst of my cancer and treatment, there are others of faith that have persevered in the face of situations monumentally worse than mine. My faith also reminds me that my current hardships can prove to be beneficial. The Scriptures tell us that we have to suffer in order to develop perseverance, that we have to develop perseverance in order to develop character, and that we have to develop character in order to live a life of hope. And I desperately want to live a life of hope. Finally, my faith gives me perspective on the future. My worst case scenario is that I do not survive the cancer and I get to be with Jesus. I understand fully that this would be tremendously difficult for my family to deal with. But I also know that God loves my family more than I do and He knows how to care for them.

My faith has also provided me with a quiet strength to deal with the stress and strain of cancer and chemotherapy. Hearing and reading God’s Word helps me to dwell on things that are true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, of good reputation, excellent, and worthy of praise. Dwelling on the negative is not productive or healthy. God’s Word also reminds me that nothing at all (not even cancer or death) can separate me from His love. I sense God’s presence when I pray – reminding me that He is with me, not necessarily removing pain, sadness, heartache, and grief, but walking that journey with me. And I feel my spirit lift when I sing songs that honor and worship my Creator.

Finally, my faith has kept me connected to others in deep and meaningful ways. I believe that we are created to be a part of a community. Not a neighborhood or a club, but a group of others into whom we can pour our lives and to whom we can open up for their own pouring. We are created for rich and significant relationships with other believers. My faith has allowed me to be ministered to in countless ways. I have visitors nearly every day – most who know how and when to cheer me up with humor, to check on my spiritual walk, to inquire about my family, and more. We are blessed with friends who bring meals to us 2 to 3 times each week. We have friends who watch our children whenever we need them. We have been especially blessed by close friends as well as Christians we don't yet know who have given thousands of dollars to help us meet our real and practical financial needs. These folks pray for and with us. They care about us. They love us. And this has made all the difference in the world.

Obviously this is not an exhaustive list of the benefits of faith. And others would describe their experiences differently, I’m sure. But these three areas of faith – perspective, strength, and connection – have proven to be anchors for me. And whether we are living in the midst of the chaos of cancer or the regular routines of life, we all need anchors to keep us steady.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

A Day in the Life...

At the end of this round of chemotherapy, I will have been in the hospital for 30 of the last 41 days. I’ve done some Geraldo-like investigative research and some sophisticated statistical analysis. My conclusion? That is just a lot of time to spend in the hospital. So for your own education (and perhaps in a lame attempt to gain a little bit of sympathy), here’s a day in my life at the hospital.

9:40 a.m. – Admitted to the hospital for round 7
10:00 – Nurse takes vital signs (blood pressure, temperature, heart-rate, respiration rate, pain level) and reviews orders for this week.
10:30 – Since one of my chemo meds can be terribly hard on a person’s bladder, another drug (Mesna) and LOTS of saline fluids are started to neutralize those side effects.
10:40 – I watch a little bit of college basketball on ESPN’s 24 hour marathon. Penn has a decent match-up zone defense, but Drexel looks to be too much for them.
11:00 – Anti-nausea medication and steroids are started through my IV. If I just had some weights here, I could lift and get ripped. But then I might get ‘roid rage and stab a nurse with a syringe. That wouldn’t be good for my care – so I’ll skip all that.
11:15 – I write and post something short to my blog. I promise something ridiculous like “I’ll post something every day.” What was I thinking?
11:45 – Penn is keeping the game close.
11:50 – I have to use the restroom. They make me collect my urine in a modified ½ gallon milk jug so they can measure my inputs/outputs. It’s weird. And a little gross, I guess.
12:00 noon – Lunch is delivered. Chix-n-dressing. Eeewwww.
12:05 – Jayme stops by before she grabs lunch. We had a nice visit. I’m letting the chix-n-dressing get cold. On purpose.
12:15 – Mo is my hero. He calls and then delivers a Big Mac meal for lunch. We visit for a while, too.
12:30 – Cytoxin is started. Cytoxin is a good chemotherapy drug for my condition, but it has an unfortunate side effect of possibly raising the risk of other kinds of cancer months to years later. Additionally, here are some side effects I am supposed to be aware of and watch for: nausea/vomiting/diarrhea, hair loss, darkening of skin/nails, pink/bloody urine, unusual decrease in the amount of urine, mouth sores, unusual tiredness or weakness, joint pain, easy bruising/bleeding, infertility, existing wounds that are slow healing.
12:30 – I try not to think about all the possible side effects while the nurse takes my vitals. I distract myself by listening to some classic 80’s tunes on my mp3 player.
12:40 – Nurse takes my vitals again.
12:55 – Nurse takes my vitals again again.
1:00 – Kyle and David stop by. Kyle is the Discipleship Pastor and David is the Chairman of the deacons at church. So we spend our time singing some hymns together and translating the original Greek found in the book of Romans. We definitely do not waste our time cutting up, telling jokes, and sharing funny stories.
1:45 – I have to use the milk jug again.
1:55 – My IV pump starts beeping and I have to call the nurse to check it. It could be out of medication, have air bubbles in the lines, or something else. Who knows.
2:00 – I surf the web, update my facebook page, and check email.
2:30 – Greg stops by for a short visit.
2:50 – I try to avoid thinking about my spinal tap that is scheduled for tomorrow.
3:00 – I watch a couple of episodes of NCIS on cable. Gibbs is cranky but cool. DiNozzo is crude but funny. David is pretty but scary with her crazy ninja-skills. McGee is likeable but goofy, kinda like Gilligan. Ducky is British and long-winded with obscure stories. Abs is cute in a creepy-Goth kind of way. It’s one big happy dysfunctional family and it’s a good show.
4:00 – Milk jug.
5:00 – Dinner is delivered. Ham sandwich, Lay’s chips, and chocolate chip cookies. Although I requested this instead of the meatloaf, I’m not really going to eat it. Shanda will bring me something later this evening. (By the way, the two words “meat” and “loaf” should never be used together.)
5:20 – I surf some more.
5:30 – I decide that my next blog post should be a “day in the life” post and begin writing. I’m sure I’m forgetting some things, but I keep writing anyway.
5:40 – Beeping IV pump. Call nurse.
6:30 – Shanda calls and agrees to bring some Taco Bell. This is good because I’m getting hungry. 2 tacos, 2 beef meximelts, and a baja blast. Mmmm…. fake but good Mexican food.
6:35 – Milk jug me, Amadeus.
6:40 – Fall asleep until Shanda gets here. Dream of playing the keytar in the studio – laying down some tracks with M.C. Hammer.
8:10 – Although Shanda and I are enjoying each other’s company and catching up on the day’s events, I have to kick her out of the room because the North Carolina Tarheels are playing the Kentucky Wildcats and she isn’t too interested in college basketball.
8:15 – I’m glad that the game is being played in the Dean Dome and not Rupp Arena. Kentucky isn’t that good this year (yet), but Rupp Arena is a tough place to play and Psycho T & Ginyard aren’t in the game for the Tarheels tonight.
8:30 – I think about why I am a Tarheel fan. Dad was stationed at an Air Force base in North Carolina when I was born. He raised me to be a Tarheel fan ever since then. Thanks, Dad, for not raising me to be a Duke fan instead. *Shiver.*
9:05 – Check email and facebook because the game is getting out of hand.
9:20 – Tarheels 45. Wildcats 29. 17:10 left to go in second half. Barring injuries, I’m watching the 2009 National Champions.
9:25 – The Sharif don’t like it. Rock the milk jug. Rock the milk jug.
9:35 – Work on this blog post, mostly by googling for a good picture of a keytar.
9:37 – Wonder how some words like Google get turned into verbs. Who gets to decide that?
9:55 – Vital signs.
10:05 – Since the game is still out of hand, I walk my 21 laps around the hallways and nurse’s station (this equals 1 mile). My legs get tired and a bit wobbly. I feel a sense of accomplishment that is short-lived, because, really,… what kind of accomplishment is walking a measly 1 mile? I’m tired of feeling weak and puny and I’m ready to get back into shape when all of this is done.
10:45 – Watch some SportsCenter and check email/facebook.
11:00 – My pump is beeping. Call the nurse.
11:05 – Gonna rock down to milk jug avenue.
11:20 – Watch last week’s episode of NCIS that I missed. Netflix is awesome.
12:00 midnight – Get ready to go to bed. Sweet dreams (are made of milk jugs.)
12:30 – I fall asleep.
2:00 – Nurse comes in to take vital signs and start another dose of Cytoxin. I’m awake for quite a while. I don’t really know why, but this has happened at the beginning of some other rounds and it could be due to the steroids. I was a little wired and couldn’t turn my brain off.
2:15 – Vital signs again.
2:20 – 99 Luftmilkjugs.
3:00 – Still awake and thinking…. about my next blog entries, about an article I have to submit today to a local newsletter about faith and cancer, about Shanda dealing with a broken refrigerator at home, about my spinal tap tomorrow (darnit), about whether my student posse will visit me Thursday night, and a whole host of other random events/ideas.
3:30 – Finally fall back asleep.
4:30 – My pump is beeping. I call the nurse and she checks to see if Cytoxin is almost finished running. I’m awake for just a little bit, but not as long as before. I’m amused as I fall back asleep because I remember the time a few rounds ago that I called a nurse in the middle of the night (and in a half-stupor) and told her that “my bump was peeping.” There was some awkward silence on the intercom, but she eventually came. I have no idea what that phrase means, but it sounds funny.
5:15 – My pump is beeping again. Nurse comes in again. Cytoxin is finished. Nurse takes vital signs again.
5:20 – Owner of a lonely milk jug.
6:00 – Nurse comes in and draws several vials of blood for morning labwork.
7:15 – I wake up for good as the sun rises over the building next door and starts beaming directly into my eye. I turn the TV on and surf the sports and news channels.
7:50 – Nurse’s aide takes vital signs.
7:55 – Karma Chamilkjug.
8:30 – Doctor makes rounds and checks me out. I get a good report for the day.
8:45 – Work on this post, which has become far too long and tedious.
9:20 – Wash up in the bathroom. I only take regular showers every few days because it is quite the hassle to tape my chest all up with waterproof plastic and tape. Otherwise I use soapy water in a basin and a washcloth to get clean. I miss my showers.
9:30 – Since I shouldn’t walk much this afternoon or evening (after my stupid spinal tap) I put a few laps in this morning.

That’s a day in my life (while at the hospital). Now that I’m finished, I’m not sure what purpose it served, really. But there you go.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I Can See the Light

I'm sorry it has been so long since my last post. I am now back in the hospital for round 7 and that means I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have just one more round after this one.

I have not been very productive my last couple of hospitalizations. (Unless getting completely caught up on every episode of "The Office," "Heroes," "24," and "NCIS" counts as productivity.) So, for the sake of actually DOING something while I'm here, I've decided that I will post every day while I am in the hospital.

This last month or so of treatment could be rough. My immune system has taken a pounding and it seems like I have more complications and delays the longer this whole thing goes on. But I am in good spirits because the end is finally in sight! Thanks for your continued prayers! Stay tuned for more posts each day.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Choice Words

I'm not a cussing man. Really, I'm not. My pastor and employer will both be glad to know this. But doggone it if I couldn't let loose with a couple of choice words today.

I just got out of the hospital on Monday - I was in for 2 full weeks and I nearly went insane. And today I'm BACK IN THE HOSPITAL AGAIN. I started running a fever and went to the clinic this afternoon. The doctor decided I should be admitted for IV antibiotics because I have some sort of infection. I say "some sort" because Oncologists don't wait around for cultures and labs to come in before they give antibiotics - especially with patients with little to no immune system. They give antibiotics first and ask questions later. We are hoping this stay is only for 3 or 4 days, but we'll see.

So please pray for the infection to go away ASAP and pray for Shanda as whe wrangles 3 boys at home by herself for a few days.

On a lighter note, my previous 2 week stay in the hospital helped me rediscover a few things...
- I had forgotten how nice fresh air is. Hospital air, not so much.
- I had forgotten how gorgeous Arkansas trees are in the fall.
- I had forgotten that eating oatmeal is what I imagine eating a hot bowl of snot would be like.

I'm sure there's more, but I'm on Benadryl right now. They give that as a standard "pre-med" before blood and platelet transfusions. I'm fighting off the sleepiness, but find myself staring blankly at the computer screen. I'll take that as a sign to stop and post something else later.