tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73260220705882039202024-02-18T19:59:24.678-06:00Nothing New...under the sun...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger227125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-41638244114277163292009-05-04T13:39:00.004-05:002009-05-04T13:57:32.356-05:00A Perfect Finish<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZx46F19wzW4-jSevRHxTdzpezO-QGBX6Qz9h7rfjsFHvX7uMQ0yVEz4nAAvBEA-cddT0ac3NasAutPCAdfS4D5TDqLFsrfnFkHJyWjt68dHh7fHlejbIMZyrcC95ZWRia0nfeYP8VzK_/s1600-h/finish+line.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332041068899080722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZx46F19wzW4-jSevRHxTdzpezO-QGBX6Qz9h7rfjsFHvX7uMQ0yVEz4nAAvBEA-cddT0ac3NasAutPCAdfS4D5TDqLFsrfnFkHJyWjt68dHh7fHlejbIMZyrcC95ZWRia0nfeYP8VzK_/s320/finish+line.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Four months ago, I was in pathetically poor condition. I could barely stroll around for a mile before getting jello-legs and needing a nap. And hauling Cooper in his carrier further than from the car to the front door was pretty much out of the question. So, for reasons I’m still unsure of, I made running a 5K my first major goal in reconditioning. I ran in the </span><a href="http://www.toadsuckrun.racesonline.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Toad Suck Daze 5K</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> this weekend and since it was a major milestone for me, I’d like to share with you my glorious experience.<br /><br />It couldn’t have gone any better. The night before the race, Shanda gave me a nice massage – making sure my muscles were loose and I was relaxed for a good night’s rest. In the morning, I discovered that she had done some research on her own about race day diets and she cooked a light breakfast for me with just the right amount of protein and carbohydrates. Cooper laughed and played quietly while Shanda helped Parker and I get our numbers pinned onto our shirts. Tanner gave us big hugs for good luck. Just before leaving for the race, Shanda put her hands gently on the sides of my face and with a kiss told me she how proud she was of me.<br /><br />Parker and I left for the race and got there in plenty of time to warm up and calm some of our pre-race jitters. The weather was perfect – sunny and 73 degrees with just a slight breeze. Once the race started, Parker and I soon settled into a comfortable pace. I was worried about the crowd at the beginning, but as it turned out they quickly split like the Red Sea before us and we were able to run our own race without any concern for those around us. The cooling breeze was always at our back and there were plenty of community folks lining the streets cheering us on – including one older gentleman in particular who stood at his sidewalk with his dog and encouraged us, “Keep it up! You’re almost there!”<br /><br />After a while, Parker decided he would run on ahead of me – which was fine. I’m proud of him. I knew he’d finish the race strong and would then be there waiting and cheering for me at the finish line. As I entered the stadium for the final lap, I noticed the bleachers were packed with people, all clapping and encouraging the racers. </span><a href="http://www.todaysthv.com/company/bios/story.aspx?storyid=28060"><span style="font-family:arial;">Craig O’Neill</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> was there as emcee and I could hear him say something over the loudspeakers about a young man and his recent battle with cancer. The crowd all stood to their feet, cheering and yelling as I crossed the finish line. It was amazing! Shanda and the boys were there at the finish line to greet me with big smiles and high fives. We celebrated my accomplishment together and then hung out with a good number of friends who were also there running or watching.<br /><br />At least that’s sort of how I imagined it would be.<br /><br />Here’s how it really happened. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I went to bed early the night before while Shanda stayed up and folded laundry. I think maybe we said good night to each other before I fell asleep. In the morning, I slapped some cream cheese on a bagel because I read on the internet somewhere that this was a good breakfast for racers. I believed it, because, you know, it was on the internet. And I drank some PowerAde because they have some cool commercials. Cooper cried in the background while Shanda and I had a small argument about whether or not we should put our numbers on ahead of time. Apparently, those safety pins could do irreparable damage to t-shirts if worn while riding in a car. Parker and I headed to the race. I’m not sure if Tanner knew we left. I think I heard Shanda yell “Good luck” as the front door closed behind us.<br /><br />The weather was awful. It was raining. Pouring, actually. Parker and I got to the race in plenty of time to get drenched before the race even began. It was a chilly 55 degrees and I was just a little concerned about the lightning overhead. Once the race got started, I couldn’t figure out my pace. I started out too fast and was hurting by about halfway through the race. I was worried about the crowd at the beginning of the race, and as it turned out it was worse than I planned. Parker and I got hemmed in by a group of runners and couldn’t find a good rhythm because we were always trying to avoid collisions. Several of the residential streets were flooded and we had to run in water that was a good 6 inches deep. Nobody was outside to cheer us on except for one old man who stood at his sidewalk only about a quarter of a mile into the race and mocked us, “Keep it up! You’re almost there!” while his dog barked menacingly at us.<br /><br />After a while, Parker decided he would run on ahead of me – which was fine. I’m proud of him. As I entered the stadium, I noticed that only 5 people were braving the rain and sitting in the bleachers. With half a lap left to go, I tried to finish with a kick and pass the runner in front of me. It turns out that some 60 year old woman had a better kick than me and I never did pass her. I crossed the finish line with absolutely no fanfare or cheering (except for one race official who mustered out a congesgted “way to go” in between his sneezes). Shanda, Tanner, and Cooper did brave the rain. But after they watched Parker cross the finish line they headed to the stadium entrance to watch for me. Unfortunately, I had already entered and they missed seeing me finish. I hunted them down and I think internally they were considering how awesome of a dad and husband I was. We celebrated by drying off and I picked up Sonic drinks and a breakfast burrito while Shanda and the boys headed home.<br /><br />I’m not saying my experience was miserable. I had a good time, even in the rain. And I enjoyed sharing it all with Parker – who has taken quite a liking to running. I just built up the event to such an extraordinary degree that it was inevitable for the real experience be a little disappointing.<br /><br />But I’ve done some reflecting the past couple of days. I’ve been reminded how Paul compares the Christian life to a race and I’m sure he would agree that life isn’t always what we expect it to be. Some parts of it can be disappointing. Sometimes we get a thorn in our flesh that God won’t take away. Sometimes we get cancer. Sometimes it rains on race day. But if we consider heaven our “finish line” then we will never be disappointed. No matter how much we build up our expectations of heaven, it is going to be infinitely better than we can imagine. It is impossible to overestimate the gloriousness of heaven. That provides me the strength to keep running.<br /><br />(Hey, that was kinda fun – blogging again, that is. I think I’ll get the blog up and running again sometime this summer – maybe with a design makeover. Thanks for checking in!)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-37155431112432865162009-01-28T13:29:00.002-06:002009-01-28T13:33:13.230-06:00Moving On<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCz8OWw5V87jfDOhOkplU2pyMWn5tS6boWXehir7NCF6FdtdjiLhuoFSALcWDQphJ4XU_HGL9h3AvOogZZu6eubNyYVfD3qU7hJ_WT4hLrHElVmt3YONGil1NmJK9dzGCWlRBG4sNIJjZ/s1600-h/fast+foward2.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296429718416344658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCz8OWw5V87jfDOhOkplU2pyMWn5tS6boWXehir7NCF6FdtdjiLhuoFSALcWDQphJ4XU_HGL9h3AvOogZZu6eubNyYVfD3qU7hJ_WT4hLrHElVmt3YONGil1NmJK9dzGCWlRBG4sNIJjZ/s200/fast+foward2.png" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><em><strong><span style="color:#660000;">But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on….</span></strong></em><br /><br />I openly acknowledge that I am taking these verses (Phil. 3:13-14) out of context. They are about salvation and spiritual maturation. But I have taken these words and made them my own as I recover from 6 months of cancer and chemo.<br /><br /><strong>I’m moving on.</strong><br /><br />Don’t get me wrong – I still have a lot going on related to my cancer. I have weekly visits to do labwork. I’ll be seeing my doctor every two months for thorough checkups. I’ll be getting PET scans and CT scans done frequently. I am still relatively weak and I am in the long process of rebuilding my strength and stamina at the fitness center. My hair is just now coming back in (it looks fuzzy and gray right now). And on top of all that, I am participating in the grand waiting game. My doctor says that if my lymphoma is going to come back, it is likely going to come back in the first year, with a smaller chance in the second year. After two years, I can be pretty confident it’s gone for good. Although two years is not long for most cancer patients, it seems long to me.<br /><br /><strong>But I’m moving on.</strong> These issues are no longer central issues of my life – they are peripheral issues. I refuse to let that two year waiting period hang over my head – causing me undue worry and stress. <strong>I’m moving on.</strong> Cancer and chemo were so much the focus of my existence for 6 months that I am glad to push them to the side now. They no longer get to define who I am. I’ve written about this “identity” conflict several times now and it’s the reason I took a break from blogging, to tell you the truth. I was tired of being the cancer-blogger guy. <strong>I’m moving on.</strong> If the cancer returns, it returns. But in the meantime, I’ll be living my life as if it’s gone.<br /><br />So…. While this post has been about me and my cancer, future posts will likely be about other things, if I remember how to write about them. Stay tuned if you are still interested.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-12499884252711377012009-01-03T09:47:00.003-06:002009-01-03T10:17:30.318-06:00Happy New Year!<span style="font-family:arial;">I've been home for nearly a week and I haven't checked my blog, email, or facebook in during that whole time. I think it's because I feel like I've closed a chapter in my life and I'm ready to move on. I haven't closed the overall <strong>story</strong> of my cancer, mind you. I still have a long way to go. I will be seeing the doctor and getting scans about every 2 to 3 months. And my body will need some time to recouperate. (Right now, I experience muscle fatigue and shortness of breath just walking up one flight of stairs.) I may need a transfusion or two and my hickman catheter still needs to come out. But I have definitely closed this chapter of daily doctor's visits and/or hospitalizations and daily struggles to just to survive the cancer and chemotherapy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Honestly, I feel a little lost as I close this chapter of my life. My schedule of classes at CBC doesn't start for another couple of weeks and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I've invested so much energy into my treatment the past 6 months. Despite my efforts (</span><a href="http://newunderthesun.blogspot.com/2008/09/identity-theft.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">and blog posts like this one</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">), I let my cancer define too much of who I was and now I'm having to redefine myself a bit.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I will be taking a break from blogging for a while - at least until February I think. When I return to blogging, I'm not sure how much will be related to my cancer/treatment/recovery - probably very little. But in this one last post, I must say thank you to all who have read and left encouraging comments. Plenty of others read my blog to stay updated, some of whom I know and others I don't. Many of you prayed for me. A simple thank you on a blog seems woefully inadequate. Please know that I appreciate all of you - much more than I know how to communicate here. At this point, my prognosis looks good. But should I have the unfortunate experience of my cancer returning, I'll need all of you even more. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I remain convinced more than ever that God is good. May you all experience His goodness and have a wonderful 2009!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-65576799910819403402008-12-24T23:13:00.004-06:002008-12-24T23:46:09.184-06:00An Open Letter to My Wife<span style="font-family:arial;">Shanda,<br /><br />Writing a letter like this is much more than just nerve-wracking. It feels impossible. But as I near the end of my treatment, I want to publically (and quite inadequately) express my love and appreciation for what you’ve done for me the past six months.<br /><br />From the very beginning you have been my rock. When I had my colonoscopy and the doctor told us I had a cancerous tumor, you kindly and calmly explained to me the results several times as my head cleared of the anesthesia and I tried to understand what was happening. As we talked to Dr. Reid about my kind of cancer and what the treatment was going to be like, you asked the important questions and took notes as my head was swimming. In the beginning, you drove me to all my appointments and hospitalizations and stayed with me to be sure I was OK. Toward the end, you let me drive myself or you dropped me off at the curb of the hospital and then let the church choir tease you about it. When I had a scary reaction to the immunotherapy (like crazy shivering and passing out), you held my hand. When I had the worst headache of my life and just couldn’t stand it anymore, you came in the middle of the night and brought me one hot wash cloth after another until we got it under control. When I was in the critical care unit for a ridiculously low heart rate, you were there to reassure me that everything was going to be OK. During my hospitalizations you brought me decent food every chance you had. You gave me my neupogen shots at home when I needed them and flushed my hickman catheter lines. When I felt like I was falling apart, you sat and held me and offered words of encouragement and hope.<br /><br />You managed our three boys at home without much help from me. You kept them fed, got them off to school, and did all the hard work of raising a newborn. You gave them good experiences during Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas (for all of which I was absent). You were instrumental in Parker accepting Jesus as his Savior. You kept track of our insurance coverage and bills, even when it was exceedingly frustrating. You’ve done precious little grumbling or complaining when my treatment caused you more work and created chaos in our lives. You’ve made many sacrifices the past six months for my sake, some of which I know about and others that I’m sure I don’t. There’s much more to be said, but when it comes down to it, you gave me tremendous strength and you kept our family together.<br /><br />I couldn’t have survived these past six months without you.<br /><br />I will do my best to express my gratitude privately and for a long time to come, but right now I want my small, public world of blog readers to know what a wonderful woman I think you are. While you deserve the accolades of a </span><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs%2031:10-31;&version=31;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Proverbs 31 woman</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, I’ve stumbled over my words and offered only a meager statement of appreciation. While you deserve the greatest of rewards, what you’ll end up getting is a trip to Larry’s Pizza.<br /><br />Thank you, Shanda. There just aren’t enough words to express my love and appreciation for you. I’m sorry I can’t be at home with you and the boys this Christmas, but I’m looking forward to spending many, many more Christmases with you.<br /><br />I love you more than I can say.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-37595807210757827992008-12-23T17:31:00.002-06:002008-12-23T17:47:09.877-06:00An Open Letter to My Nurses<span style="font-family:arial;">To my nurses at Dr. Tsuda’s and Dr. Reid’s offices and to my nurses (& nurse's aides) on the 2nd floor at Conway Regional Medical Center:<br /><br />Writing a letter like this is a bit nerve-wracking. I’m afraid that just as soon as I get started, I’ll forget someone or something important. But I cannot wrap up my treatment without expressing my gratitude to you all.<br /><br />With the exception of 2 or 3 weekends, I’ve spent time with you (either at the clinics or at the hospital) <strong>every day</strong> for the past 6 months. Some of you I’ve gotten to know better than others – but I have enjoyed the company of all of you. As you heard stories of me and my family, you let me get to know you as well. Some of you love your kids and grandkids so much it oozes from you. Some of you almost burned your house down recently. Some of you laugh really loudly. Some of you have mended your marriages. Some of you like cookies and a good energy drink. Some of you are looking for a church to attend. Some of you never miss an episode of Heroes or The Office. Some of you have cool disco shoes and some of you have Batman earrings. Some of you have been oncology nurses for a long time and some of you are just getting started. Some of you have taken care of my milk jugs (you might need to <a href="http://newunderthesun.blogspot.com/2008/11/day-in-life.html">read this post</a> to understand). Some of you enjoy deer hunting with your husbands and some of you really, really love Christmas.<br /><br />All of you have been both professional and yet personal in your care. Cancer is scary and hospitals are not particularly fun. You all have done an exceptional job in easing my worries, answering my questions, and tending to me through my chemotherapy.<br /><br />Simply saying “thank you” doesn’t seem enough. But I’m not sure how to elaborate much more. Please know that I am extremely grateful for what you’ve done for me.<br /><br />May God bless you all richly.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-51834006677692149542008-12-22T11:22:00.002-06:002008-12-22T11:38:18.267-06:00A Hospitally Christmas<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajKxq1569N7zwrPviwx4HG1ArYUIpoC0Rt3rh4dyQ3c6-o5cO71NC4O13Cwypqs9OZZmHwUWr-F-Ed0UYKFnxkx9ZQ-M6738cyUxEjpbm-wqcUAMBDWHK1Q9nZ9aKn2YRq_krvTRo0Trv/s1600-h/hospital+ornament.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282670077428417778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajKxq1569N7zwrPviwx4HG1ArYUIpoC0Rt3rh4dyQ3c6-o5cO71NC4O13Cwypqs9OZZmHwUWr-F-Ed0UYKFnxkx9ZQ-M6738cyUxEjpbm-wqcUAMBDWHK1Q9nZ9aKn2YRq_krvTRo0Trv/s200/hospital+ornament.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Yes, I know “hospitally” isn’t a real word. My spell checker tells me so. But it looks like that’s the kind of Christmas I’ll have this year.<br /><br />I was admitted to the hospital yesterday with a fever and I’m getting some much needed platelet transfusions, blood transfusions, and antibiotics. And I’ll likely be here until after Christmas. That makes Shanda and me a little sad, but it’s all going to be OK. Maybe it won’t be so different than being home….<br /><br />Instead of the boys waking me up at 6:00 am to open presents, the nurses will wake me up at 6:00 am to draw blood and get my vital signs.<br /><br />And instead of hearing annoying, loud, and beeping toys for Cooper, I’ll hear annoying, loud, and beeping IV pumps by my bedside.<br /><br />See, just the same as being home.<br /><br />But as I’ve said before, I’ll willingly spend this Christmas at the hospital if it means I get to spend the next 50 at home.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-10599565172938787322008-12-17T18:53:00.002-06:002008-12-17T19:02:51.835-06:00Today's HeadlineMY CHEMO IS OVER!<br />MY CHEMO IS OVER!<br />MY CHEMO IS OVER!<br /><br />I'm still in the hospital tonight getting a blood transfusion. And I'll likely end up spending some more time in the hospital before and/or during Christmas - getting more blood or platelets or antibiotics or some such. <br /><br />But today I'm celebrating......<br /><br />MY CHEMO IS OVER!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-90914239849066929542008-12-16T22:13:00.003-06:002008-12-16T22:35:44.125-06:00The Home Stretch Gets Ugly<span style="font-family:arial;">Grumble.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Nothing witty tonight - just an update as I try to knock out these last few days of treatment.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">If you read my post on Monday, you know I got a bonus day in the hospital because Shanda and 2 of the boys had some kind of stomach bug. Well, Monday night I spiked a fever here at the hospital. Again, fevers are NEVER good for cancer patients whose immune systems are already taking a pounding. So, I got to stay in the hospital another day. In addition to the fever (that now has gone away), I've had a pretty persistent headache the past two days. That was a bit of a concern for my doctors, so I got to have a consultation with a neurologist and they did a MRI on my brain. (Good news - I have a brain and the MRI looked OK.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Other people have those kind of headaches regularly. But since I've never really had a two-day headache before, the doctors were a little concerned. I get to have another MRI on my spinal column tomorrow. Then I get to have a spinal tap. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">If things go as planned tomorrow and if the next few days go as they have in previous rounds, then here's how my near future looks....</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'll get my LAST - yes my very LAST - spinal tap tomorrow. That will be 16 since this summer and it will mark the end of my chemo treatment. Then after a few days, my white blood cell count will plummet and I'll get sick or run a fever or something and end up back in the hospital again. I'll be in the hospital to get antibiotics and stuff for several days and I'll be cutting it very close to get back out before Christmas. In fact, we are half-way planning on me spending Christmas here at the hospital. We'll just have to see, I guess.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So, I've tied a knot at the end of my rope and I'm hanging on for a little while longer.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-64263494439133823852008-12-15T09:47:00.002-06:002008-12-15T10:02:10.108-06:00Hope Deferred....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE5EQQUQ0bLS_C8RRD3sNlcYwC9-3JDiPUQSa4tZbwlCMJ5HlIdO2_R0VaofYss45uFFtX1pnB3vtYaC03oIp3jX-mmEOuSLhLDeOfEEV0YvP0PnyBdY_01WlcxfyhN2cpfDXlIXZHIoUU/s1600-h/snickers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280047658624034114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE5EQQUQ0bLS_C8RRD3sNlcYwC9-3JDiPUQSa4tZbwlCMJ5HlIdO2_R0VaofYss45uFFtX1pnB3vtYaC03oIp3jX-mmEOuSLhLDeOfEEV0YvP0PnyBdY_01WlcxfyhN2cpfDXlIXZHIoUU/s200/snickers.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">…..makes the heart sick (Proverbs 13:12)<br />…..makes the heart want to watch more <a href="http://www.ufc.com/">UFC</a>.<br />…..makes the heart want to eat more Snickers with Almonds.<br />…..makes the heart want to scream wildly at the top of his lungs and he would except that it would scare the other patients and upset the nurses and they might come running and inject him with Ativan or something to calm him down and if he kept screaming they might call security or try putting him in restraints.<br /><br />I was scheduled to go home today. BUT, I have a house full of sick people. Two of the boys are just getting over some sort of stomach bug and Shanda just came down with it last night. I was a little concerned about going to a home steeped in germs and/or viruses, so I mentioned it to my doctor this morning. She recommended that I stay in the hospital another day to help avoid getting sick myself.<br /><br />Did you catch that? Stay in the hospital. To <strong><em>avoid</em></strong> getting sick. That just seems weird.<br /><br />But I understand. So I get the joy of at least one more day in the hospital. We are just going to play it by ear tomorrow. My last spinal tap is scheduled for Wednesday, so I suppose it is possible they will keep me until that is done. But if it is any longer than that, I’m gonna need the restraints.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-25020233458792249642008-12-14T08:00:00.001-06:002008-12-14T09:28:33.688-06:00How Many Shopping Days ‘Til Christmas?<span style="font-family:arial;">Click here - </span><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/i2yi2yi2yi2y?type=112&page=1&start=1"><span style="font-family:arial;">Stupid Cancer</span></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-5030150359866712222008-12-13T22:44:00.002-06:002008-12-14T10:12:17.350-06:00Resolutions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFbPiz_bNyAgXxxCywKZstt_agmo4xQqADADj0c_wC1i-dzGg7c1De7yyQ-jb1lG401oZka67FXxTyAkUnrt5SKMEtNX-314opSC6aOxYSvFXZgv2sMbxm6r0q4swH4e5cNaaerwtalEh/s1600-h/red+convertible2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279502491070977810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFbPiz_bNyAgXxxCywKZstt_agmo4xQqADADj0c_wC1i-dzGg7c1De7yyQ-jb1lG401oZka67FXxTyAkUnrt5SKMEtNX-314opSC6aOxYSvFXZgv2sMbxm6r0q4swH4e5cNaaerwtalEh/s200/red+convertible2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">I am definitely NOT a New Year’s Resolution kind of guy. I don’t like setting myself up for that kind of failure. Plus, it just seems a little cheesy.<br /><br />But I can’t help being a little reflective these days as my last round of chemo wraps up. I can’t help but think about the kind of life I’ve been living and wonder if any changes need to be made. I dunno – maybe that’s more related to a mid-life crisis than cancer.<br /><br />(No worries – I have no plans to grow my hair long and buy a red convertible.)<br /><br />And I have no real plans for major overhauls. But here are a few thoughts I’ve had lately, in no particular order. This isn’t an exhaustive list – I’m still contemplating.<br /><br />I want to be more generous. Shanda and I have been EXTREMELY blessed by the generosity of others the past 6 months. We’ve had friends and family give, sometimes sacrificially I’m sure. And we’ve had Christians we don’t know from places we barely know give as well. In both cases, we have been reminded of God’s love for us through the love of others. And we have learned much about God’s provision through the generosity of others. I want to be a part of ministering to the real needs of other people like that.<br /><br />I want to be slightly more spontaneous. Some of the best times I’ve had were born out of spontaneity. Frankly, spontaneity can drive Shanda crazy, so I have to be careful. But I sometimes like getting caught up in the moment and flying by the seat of my pants.<br /><br />I want to splurge more – on the small things. I’m not a fan of wasting money or spending it frivolously. But I’d like to upgrade to the New York Strip when I go to Outback Steakhouse, you know?<br /><br />I want to give more hugs. That sounds weird. But I grew up in a very affectionate home and I’m finding this desire to give more people more hugs these days. Maybe that’s just because I’m wrapping up chemo and I’m anticipating saying “good-bye” or “thank-you” to a good many people – health care providers and others. So if you find yourself getting a big hug from me anytime soon and it weirds you out, please just humor me.<br /><br />I want to go to a Duke / North Carolina basketball game someday. Yes, this is pretty specific. But this is the ultimate sporting event for me. (BOBBY! COME ON, MAN!)<br /><br />And I want to eat more Snickers bars with almonds. Because, dude, those things are really, really, good.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-23490958047329831802008-12-12T10:46:00.003-06:002008-12-13T19:17:48.979-06:0010-15 (Revisited)<span style="font-family:arial;">So… for a while now I’ve been able to forget about the whole recovery rate thing. I’ve just assumed that I’m going to be cured of this stupid cancer. Honestly, I don’t know how much of that was/is faith and how much was/is burying my head in the sand like an ostrich. But ignoring it has served me well – it reduces the stress of worrying about things I have little to no control over.<br /><br />But now that I’m in my last round of chemo, I’ve started thinking about my odds again. Surely my odds are at least slightly better than the 85-90 percent typical for Burkitt’s Lymphoma since I’ve had good results from chemo so far. That is, within that 10-15 percent of folks who do not make it, some of them probably do not get good results from the very beginning. That I have tolerated chemo well and haven’t had any symptoms has got to be a good sign. Still, I wonder who finds themselves in the 10-15 percent. And I wonder if I could be in that group.<br /><br />The end of round 8 marks the beginning of a very long waiting game. And if you have followed my journey at all, you probably recognize that I’m not good at waiting – even through delays that last only a few days. I will have my first major set of scan 6 weeks after round 8 is over. Then, if memory serves me correctly, I’ll have scans at 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, 2 years, and 5 years. Each of these are milestones – and I’m not sure I’ll feel like I’m really out of the woods (or out of the 10-15 percent) until 5 years is up.<br /><br />So in a feeble attempt to give new meaning to the numbers 10-15, I’ve decided to come up with a list of alternatives. Here’s my list. Be ready to give me your ideas.<br /><br />10-15 = percent of readers who “got” all of my 80s songs/milk jug references.<br />10-15 = number of months my doctor has said it will take to gain all of my strength and stamina back. I’m gonna cut that down to 6 months, though.<br />10-15 = percent of body hair I have left after 8 rounds of chemo.<br />10-15 = total number of hospital meals I’ve eaten. All other meals have been<br />brought in from the outside.<br />10-15 = number of requests for poop references. Weirdos.<br /><br />OK. Your turn. Redefine 10-15 for me……….</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-68826803059379843962008-12-10T12:40:00.002-06:002008-12-10T12:50:52.533-06:00The Home Stretch, AgainMy lab results were good this morning! So I'm off to the hospital this evening to start my last round of chemotherapy - for real this time, I hope. I told my doctor today that I'm glad to not have to wait a week. As it is, I felt a little like I was running a race and having just turned a corner and laid eyes on the ribbon at the finish line, I was made to stop and wait. <br /><br />It sounds odd to say I'm looking forward to going to the hospital and getting chemo, but I am. The delay will mean I'll be in the hospital on my birthday, but like my doctor said about being in the hospital on Thanksgiving Day, I'll gladly be in the hospital that day so I can spend the next 50 at home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-59551025710500597752008-12-09T10:23:00.000-06:002008-12-09T10:25:50.443-06:00Ready, Set, WAITWell, I was admitted to the hospital yesterday evening to start round 8. Unfortunately, when they did labwork this morning, my white blood cell count was too low. So my chemo has been delayed at the very last minute. I’m back at home now – hoping that my white blood cells rebound enough so that tomorrow I can go back in. If they don’t, then the doctor will start me on some medication for a week that will boost my white blood cells. I don’t like being delayed for a day – let alone for a week. But I suppose some delays are inevitable and should be expected. Pray that my white blood cells will get their act together by tomorrow morning and pray for me to have patience if they don’t.<br /><br />One other item…..<br /><br />What do you get when you add one NC State basketball coach wildly looking for someone to celebrate with after he won the 1983 National Championship and over $80 million for cancer research? <a href="http://www.jimmyv.org/">You get the JimmyV Foundation</a>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jNQ6JZpjdTY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jNQ6JZpjdTY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-61810996015664697402008-12-08T16:46:00.002-06:002008-12-08T16:48:49.329-06:00The Home StretchI am going to the hospital tonight to start round 8 - my LAST round of chemotherapy. And there is much rejoicing in the land. Will post again soon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-8404039878419267152008-12-03T09:52:00.000-06:002008-12-03T09:54:44.642-06:00Home Sweet HomeI'm home again. I love home. I'm feeling well and looking forward to a few good days before I head back to the hospital for my next (*ahem* - LAST) round of chemotherapy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-24526918434428058252008-11-30T14:48:00.002-06:002008-11-30T22:35:40.010-06:006 Random Weekend Observations<span style="font-family:arial;">(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.<br /><br />(2) There is nothing very good on TV on Sunday mornings between 5:00 and 9:00.<br /><br />(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?)<br /><br />(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.<br /><br />(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.<br /><br />(6) I love BCS chaos.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Enjoy my early morning tune below….<br /></span><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rrBx6mAWYPU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rrBx6mAWYPU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-72751851934091777572008-11-27T13:14:00.002-06:002008-11-27T13:49:17.809-06:00Do They Serve Tofurkey at the Hospital?Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!<br />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!<br />ShandaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-90552408989375237262008-11-26T17:48:00.004-06:002008-11-26T17:56:11.746-06:00TofurkeyI 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!<br /><br />P.S. Tanner saw a cooking show the other day and afterwards suggested we have tofurkey for Thanksgiving dinner. We're gonna pass.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-44513913225947482232008-11-22T11:08:00.000-06:002008-11-22T11:17:48.089-06:00Yesterday and Today<span style="font-family:arial;">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):<br /><br />(1) Chemo brain. This is a real condition. Don’t believe me? </span><a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/print/chemo-brain/DS01109/METHOD=print&DSECTION=all"><span style="font-family:arial;">Look it up</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">. Would the Mayo Clinic lie? I don’t think so.<br /><br />(2) I was on Benadryl yesterday during my blogging time. They give Benadryl before blood transfusions and it seriously knocks me out.<br /><br />(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.<br /><br />(4) I got distracted watching Arrested Development, The Office, and Heroes.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Thanks for your thoughts and prayers!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-82478052188496674182008-11-20T08:59:00.007-06:002008-11-20T13:14:32.066-06:00Tumor Rumor<span style="font-family:arial;">The Conway Cancer Foundation has a newsletter they publish periodically - <em>The Tumor Rumor</em>. 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. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">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 <em>The Tumor Rumor</em>. 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).</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;">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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</span> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-63976102631033605602008-11-19T09:18:00.002-06:002008-11-19T10:17:54.424-06:00A Day in the Life...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNploGsSog6y5WGNCVNCZsd4d5ygTCM9onE5RTpfXED5WXp2JtWEyPPyJIK2zOsacCdyno_jDjkdUAG1NCFgpvRj5cn-tpBbVzGnm9IBEpIJNLXboQ4BbXRTWfjISuMe3FVpZYhVSb43pY/s1600-h/keytar2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270388620827879698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNploGsSog6y5WGNCVNCZsd4d5ygTCM9onE5RTpfXED5WXp2JtWEyPPyJIK2zOsacCdyno_jDjkdUAG1NCFgpvRj5cn-tpBbVzGnm9IBEpIJNLXboQ4BbXRTWfjISuMe3FVpZYhVSb43pY/s200/keytar2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">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.<br /><br />9:40 a.m. – Admitted to the hospital for round 7<br />10:00 – Nurse takes vital signs (blood pressure, temperature, heart-rate, respiration rate, pain level) and reviews orders for this week.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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?<br />11:45 – Penn is keeping the game close.<br />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.<br />12:00 noon – Lunch is delivered. Chix-n-dressing. Eeewwww.<br />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.<br />12:15 – Mo is my hero. He calls and then delivers a Big Mac meal for lunch. We visit for a while, too.<br />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.<br />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.<br />12:40 – Nurse takes my vitals again.<br />12:55 – Nurse takes my vitals again again.<br />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.<br />1:45 – I have to use the milk jug again.<br />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.<br />2:00 – I surf the web, update my facebook page, and check email.<br />2:30 – Greg stops by for a short visit.<br />2:50 – I try to avoid thinking about my spinal tap that is scheduled for tomorrow.<br />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.<br />4:00 – Milk jug.<br />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.)<br />5:20 – I surf some more.<br />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.<br />5:40 – Beeping IV pump. Call nurse.<br />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.<br />6:35 – Milk jug me, Amadeus.<br />6:40 – Fall asleep until Shanda gets here. Dream of playing the keytar in the studio – laying down some tracks with M.C. Hammer.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.*<br />9:05 – Check email and facebook because the game is getting out of hand.<br />9:20 – Tarheels 45. Wildcats 29. 17:10 left to go in second half. Barring injuries, I’m watching the 2009 National Champions.<br />9:25 – The Sharif don’t like it. Rock the milk jug. Rock the milk jug.<br />9:35 – Work on this blog post, mostly by googling for a good picture of a keytar.<br />9:37 – Wonder how some words like Google get turned into verbs. Who gets to decide that?<br />9:55 – Vital signs.<br />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.<br />10:45 – Watch some SportsCenter and check email/facebook.<br />11:00 – My pump is beeping. Call the nurse.<br />11:05 – Gonna rock down to milk jug avenue.<br />11:20 – Watch last week’s episode of NCIS that I missed. Netflix is awesome.<br />12:00 midnight – Get ready to go to bed. Sweet dreams (are made of milk jugs.)<br />12:30 – I fall asleep.<br />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.<br />2:15 – Vital signs again.<br />2:20 – 99 Luftmilkjugs.<br />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.<br />3:30 – Finally fall back asleep.<br />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.<br />5:15 – My pump is beeping again. Nurse comes in again. Cytoxin is finished. Nurse takes vital signs again.<br />5:20 – Owner of a lonely milk jug.<br />6:00 – Nurse comes in and draws several vials of blood for morning labwork.<br />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.<br />7:50 – Nurse’s aide takes vital signs.<br />7:55 – Karma Chamilkjug.<br />8:30 – Doctor makes rounds and checks me out. I get a good report for the day.<br />8:45 – Work on this post, which has become far too long and tedious.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-5988243195024906192008-11-18T11:21:00.002-06:002008-11-18T11:30:46.522-06:00I Can See the Light<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozNIpR5XesFSA_4jddWciSqlTP5-laSL5SDPDSaoRuFYiDgVqlyO5WPQ5zLr10GGBJgl3j_xeUdPw218NBPomcKNZRGS5jdQCIFP1W3X2kxZhWGDtP3POV_alZpK2amkEjaParUDszV2_/s1600-h/tunnel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270051109331786082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozNIpR5XesFSA_4jddWciSqlTP5-laSL5SDPDSaoRuFYiDgVqlyO5WPQ5zLr10GGBJgl3j_xeUdPw218NBPomcKNZRGS5jdQCIFP1W3X2kxZhWGDtP3POV_alZpK2amkEjaParUDszV2_/s200/tunnel.jpg" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><div></div><br /><div>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. </div><br /><div></div><div>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.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-36329092139834713172008-11-05T20:26:00.003-06:002008-11-05T22:11:20.291-06:00Choice WordsI'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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />On a lighter note, my previous 2 week stay in the hospital helped me rediscover a few things...<br />- I had forgotten how nice fresh air is. Hospital air, not so much.<br />- I had forgotten how gorgeous Arkansas trees are in the fall.<br />- I had forgotten that eating oatmeal is what I imagine eating a hot bowl of snot would be like.<br /><br />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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326022070588203920.post-39630769793037292812008-10-25T10:32:00.003-05:002008-10-25T10:51:52.872-05:00Bonus DaysWell, many of you know that I've been in the hospital since Monday. The problem is that I had a couple of sores on one leg that needed antibiotics before chemo started. The doctor wanted those to be good and healed before chemo started messing with my immune system and thereby risking the infections returning. So..... I've gotten 5 bonus hospital days this round. YIPPEE. Chemo will start tomorrow.<br /><br />I'm afraid that this extra-long hosptial stay may have me bouncing off the walls before I get to go home. I need to find some things to do to pass the time. I haven't been very creative so far. Mostly I watch TV. But there's only so many reruns of NCIS and episodes of SportsCenter that a man can watch. ((Although I think I've set the record for the number of "The Office" episodes a person can watch in two days - Netflix is awesome.))<br /><br />So I need some suggestions from my peeps on how to pass the time while stuck here for another week. The nurses won't play Texas Hold 'Em with me and I'm not good at making prank phone calls. Help a brother out.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com16