So far so good.

It was one week ago today that I finished the initial phase (3 consecutive daily treatments) of my first chemotherapy cycle.  Next Tuesday I start the final phase which consists of one treatment weekly for three weeks.  Last week was a combination of drugs, a cocktail, whereas the next three weeks are a single new drug.  So far I am feeling just fine and have experienced no real side effects of the treatments.  When I had the chemo treatments 12 years ago my experience was similar, with almost no side effects.  A friend, who is in the health care community, recently said that apparently my body (body chemistry, physical condition, etc) is able to tolerate the treatments well, and that future treatments may well follow the same pattern.  That is not a guarantee but I'll take it.  How I react to the new drug next week remains to be seen, but I am hopeful that it will also be well tolerated.  The primary side effect for most people is mouth sores, which can impact your ability/willingness to eat.  I am following all the guidelines for good oral care and hoping that they too will pass me by, or at least be more of an irritant than a problem.  We shall see.

The process of physical adjustment is going well.  The emotional aspect is coming along more slowly although it definitely is heading in the right direction.  Our minds and emotions just need need more time to get on top of the situation.  I think a lot about my family and how they are adjusting and coping.  I am the one who gets most of the focus and concern, but their needs are every bit as real and I think and worry about them often.  I know that we are all being lifted up in the prayers and thoughts of many many friends, and that is comforting.

If someone is reading this post and is about to begin chemotherapy treatments, I hope that I can act as a source of hope to them.  I am proof that chemo does not have to be totally debilitating.  You may not be as fortunate as I and be almost free of side effects, but it can be tolerable.  Fear of the unknown is powerful, but try to push that fear aside and dwell for now on what is possible. 

Be with me Lord.

Finding out that you have cancer is quickly followed by an emotional roller coaster ride of epic proportions.  Over time those emotional issues and questions must be faced and dealt with.  They do not go away by themselves.  Some can be resolved quickly, some can be postponed for a later time, and some linger far longer than they should be allowed to.  One thing that I have learned over the years is that I shouldn't spend too much time trying to answer the why questions: Why me?  Why must people suffer?  Why can't someone else get sick?  We simply can't answer such things.  The questions themselves are often designed more to express our anguish than to solicit an answer.  I don't know why I have cancer, and I don't much care.  It is what it is, a plain indisputable fact.  I have also learned that, inspite of our best efforts, everything in life cannot be explained.  There are many things that are beyond the comprehension of the human mind.  And the sooner we accept that fact, the sooner we are able to move on.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord.  "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."  Isaiah 55: 8-9

Being able to accept things as they are, when we are not at all happy with our circumstances, is not a human trait possessed by most.  Acceptance acknowledges that we are not in complete control.  We often spend totally inordinant amounts of time and effort trying to find ways to get back in control, and to get back on the course that we perceive as better or truer.  We kick and scratch and fight and cry, all in vain efforts to regain control of the out-of-control situation.  And as more and more of our efforts fail, we feel more and more alone, more and more separated from everything else, more and more desperate and afraid.

When your whole world is falling apart around you, and things appear to be beyond hope, it is often difficult to remember that your Heavenly Father is present there with you.  He is as close as a thought, as near as a sigh, and He has been there all along.  He knew you and was with you before you were born and He will be with you through eternity.

"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."  Deuteronomy 31: 8.

Over the years I have experienced many of the highs and lows of living as a mortal man.  I have felt the untold joy and exhilaration of being present at the births of my children.  And I have felt the depths of despair and anguish at the death of a child.  Unfortunately, during the many highs and the celebrations I did not always remember that God was there by my side.  I did not remember to thank Him for His love and his goodness.  But He was still there with me, even if I did not seek Him.  I have also learned, through experience, that when my circumstances were beyond low and my pain was too great to bear, He was still there by my side.  And when I finally would reach out to Him, He would take me in His arms and comfort me with His mighty presence and love.  Never - not once - did I reach for Him and call upon His name and find Him missing.  He was always there and He always will be.

So now I am facing another challenge in my life - cancer.  But I know that my heavenly father is with me.  I know that He loves me with His perfect love.  I know that He has a perfect plan for my life, that was written before I was conceived.  And I know that He is in control.  The God who created the heavens and the earth, also hears my every breath and knows my every thought.  And He loves me beyond anything that I can comprehend.

I am not sure what lies ahead during the coming weeks/months/years, and at times I get a bit apprehensive and nervous,  but after a deep breath or two I can whisper "Be with me Lord." and all is once again well and good.

Maintain some balance.

As I begin the process of coping with my cancer, and the changes it imposes on my life, my circumstances will have significant effect on how I approach the journey that lies ahead.  I am retired and that fact alone lifts a large weight from my shoulders.   If I had to be concerned about my employment and earning an income, the situation would be greatly compounded.  I am in otherwise good physical and mental condition and am married to a loving and devoted wife, have 2 wonderful children, and lots of friends for support.  In truth, my environment could probably not be much better in terms of providing me a warm and loving, low stress situation to work from.

During my reading, praying and consideration of what lies ahead, one thing has become abundantly clear - cancer cannot and will not define the rest of my life.  I refuse to be paralyzed by what-if's or to live in anticipation of my inevitable demise.  It will, for some period, occupy a rather prominent place in my consciousness, but I will not permit it to consume me or the members of my family, who must also cope and adapt.  It will be given it's due priority, no more, no less.

Over the past 68 years I have been privileged, and sometimes cursed, to have assumed many roles, held many positions, made many friends and acquaintances, squandered more than a few opportunities, shed some tears and enjoyed many laughs, relished some highs and endured some lows, and even got sick a few times.  I have been a son, a brother, a husband, a father, an employee, a friend, and a confidant.  I played college basketball and won a few medals in track and field.  I worked for companies both large and small, lived in several cities around the US, at times probably drank more beer than I should have, and back in the year 2000 I had cancer.  So the mosaic of my life is made up of many many events and activities, none of which is much more conspicuous than any of the others.

So why should the remainder of my existence be any different?  And the answer is, it shouldn't.  During my treatments, there will be many days spent traveling back and forth to Duke Cancer Center.  And while I am feeling just fine right now, with almost no side effects from the treatments thus far, I expect there will be some days where just resting and napping will be in order.  But I am committed to staying as healthy as possible by eating a very healthy diet, getting some form of exercise every day, staying well rested and following the doctor's orders closely.  Holly and I are planning little activities that we can incorporate into our days.  We generally stop and do some shopping on our return trips from Duke, plan to go watch a few movies, take some long walks in the park, go visit the grand children, and whatever else might pop into our minds.  A few years ago I began tracing our family trees and found some areas of the country where several generations of our ancestors lived.  We are talking about taking a "research" trip to a few of those communities after my treatments are complete.

What is most important is that we not put the rest of our lives on hold.  Life is too precious to be put on hold.  Whether the days, weeks and months ahead will be as active and diverse as we are planning remains to be seen.  But as long as the strength, the will and the determination hold out, we plan to keep right on enjoying our life as much in the future as we have in the past.

I have cancer...now what?

Having been diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma 12 years ago, and going through chemotherapy and radiation treatments to get rid of it, I have been able to proudly refer to myself ever since as a cancer survivor.  Since lightening never strikes the same place twice, it never entered my mind that I might once again be told that unfortunately the diagnosis is cancer.  But it has returned, in a somewhat different form this time, Non Hodgkin's T-Cell Lymphoma.  Cancer is an ugly visitor.  It enters your home without asking and rearranges your life.  It takes over with or without your consent.  It causes your emotions to visit previously unknown and unexperienced depths.  The words hit you like a ton of bricks and take your breath away.  In short, it gets your attention very fast and in a very big way.

But life does go on.  The sun will again rise in the morning and the birds will sing.  As you stare out the window, the neighbor will back out of their driveway and head off to go to work.  The mail will get delivered and will include bills to be paid and junk mail.  Somewhere along the way that pain in your stomach will turn to hunger and you will decide to have a little breakfast.  And even thought you have been told you have a disease that is ominous and perhaps life threatening, your life also goes on.  How you choose to deal with this radical development in your life is almost more important that the development itself.  Not dealing with it is not an available option.

Over the past several weeks I have, once again, had to determine how I will respond to having cancer reenter my life.  I feel there are two parts to this response, one spiritual and one philosophical.  They are by no means at odds with each other, but instead work together to form a basis for getting up each morning and facing another day.  And I feel that articulating them here will be a good opportunity for me to verbalize my thoughts as well as perhaps assist someone else who is faced with a life changing event in their life.

Over the next few posts I will try to express my thoughts and feelings on how I am attempting to cope and move on.  It is not an easy process but one that still needs to be kept on the front burner.

Meet my chemo angel Zaneta.

Today I finished my 3rd and final chemo treatment in the first part of Cycle 1.  No more joy juice until July 3 when I receive one treatment per week for 3 consecutive weeks.  Then Cycle 1 will be complete, I rest for 2 weeks and then we start all over on Cycle 2.  And I just had to get a picture of me with my little nurse angel named Zaneta.  What a sweetheart and a joy to be around, as you can tell from that smile.  The fact that she is a christian sister makes it even better.

The Duke Cancer Center just moved into it's new building in March of this year and the facilities are absolutely unbelievable. Holly says it is like going into a 5 star hotel.  And the care, attention and compassion shown by the physicians and staff at all levels is without question worldclass.  I can't think of anywhere you could look, around the globe, to fine anything better.  And it is just 1 1/2 hours up the road.  Is God good or what!!!!

God is good.

I have now completed my second day of chemotherapy and am very happy to report that I feel as good now as I did before I started the treatments.  So far I have no side effects other than not being able to sleep more than about half the night, which they say is normal.  But no nausea, no fatigue, no sweats or pains, no nothing.  I could not be more thrilled.  We have all heard the stories about how people have reacted to chemo and I must admit some apprehension.  But I also knew that there are exceptions and I was bound and detrmined to be one of those exceptions.  And the Lord knew my hearts' desire and was faithful to deliver.

Over the last 6 weeks or so there have been many instances where a situation was unfolding and the circumstances were heading in one direction, only to have a change of course and wind up with a different outcome.  In retrospect the final outcome was preferable to the initial indication.  God is clearly in control.  And even though alot still lies ahead, I know that He will be with me along the way.

Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. (Psalm 55:22)

God is truely great.

Life is a gift.

I am sitting here in the Duke Cancer Center, hooked up to an IV pump that is delivering a delicious mixture of chemicals into my body to do battle with my cancer. I am also surfing the Internet on my brand new ipad, that my dear and loving wife and children (and their spouses) bought me for Fathers Day, so that I would have something to do while being hooked up to an IV pump. While reading I came across something that I just wanted to share.

  

 Today before you think of saying an unkind word - 
Think of someone who cannot speak. 


Before you complain about the taste of your food - 
Think of someone who has nothing to eat. 


Before you complain about your husband or wife - 
Think of someone who is crying out to God for a companion. 


Today before you complain about life - 
Think of someone who went too early to heaven. 


Before you complain about your children - 
Think of someone who desires children but they're barren. 


Before you argue about your dirty house, someone didn't clean or sweep - 
Think about the people who are living in the streets. 


Before whining about the distance you drive - 
Think of someone who walks the same distance with their feet. 


And when you are tired and complain about your job - 
Think of the unemployed, the disabled and those who wish they had your job. 


But before you think of pointing the finger or condemning another - 
Remember that not one of us are without sin and we all answer to one maker. 


And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down - 
Put a smile on your face and thank God you're alive and still around. 


Life is a gift - Live it! Enjoy it, Celebrate it! And Fulfill it. 


Author unknown.

Be with me Lord.

It was about 6 weeks ago that a series of medical events (also known a the hand of God) came across what appeared to be some enlarged lymph nodes in my abdomen.  It was about 3 weeks ago that I received the results of the biopsy indicating that I have Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma.  A subsequent bone marrow test determined it is stage 4 cancer, involving the bone and bone marrow.  But even now I feel just fine.  I exhibit no symptoms of the disease, other that perhaps some fatigue, which I attribute more to getting old and out of shape.  I am told that the lack of symptoms may well work to my benefit during the rigors of chemotherapy.  Time will tell.  In the last month or so I have seen enough doctors and endured enough tests to last a life time.  And obviously I have worn out my "Google button" researching words I can neither pronounce nor spell.  Needless to say it has been a very busy time.  And inserted somewhere between the appointments, the tests and falling asleep at night, I attempted to think about my mortality and my spiritual health and well being.  The medical aspect of my situation has calmed down considerably and now requires a lesser amount of my time.  But if I am honest, a fair amount of work remains between my Lord and me.  The other day I was reading something written by another christian cancer patient and it really spoke to me:


"God is our hope and promise. He is in control and He does perform miracles. We are part of His family and He does love us. Even when we are in serious trouble, we do not need to be afraid, but just trust Him. He is concerned about our daily needs, as well as our problems. He can see the big picture and knows what is best for us. We need to rest in Him, obey Him, and seek His will daily through prayer and reading the scriptures. God looks at our hearts. Our problems can bring us closer to God and heal our hearts so we can reflect His light and love to others."


I was born a child of the most high God.  And 30+ years ago I accepted him as my Lord and Savior.  Over the years I have learned to trust Him, and learned that He will provide for all of my needs.  I also know that He created the heavens and the earth, the mountains and the seas, and He created man and woman.  I know that this same great and wonderful God has numbered the hairs on my head.  There is nothing that I say or do or think that is not known by Him.  And I know that in His word it says that He will never leave me or forsake me.  I know all of this in my head, and I know much of it in my heart and soul.  But what I need to work on now is doing what the writer above says - "...to rest in Him, obey Him and seek His will daily...".


Be with me Lord.

Treatment starts in 2 days.

So it is Monday and I begin chemotherapy in 2 days. In some ways I am not looking forward to the treatments but most of me wants to get started right away. I definitely will not get any better just sitting here waiting, so let's get this thing started. Back in 2000, when I had Hodgkin's Lymphoma, I recieved treatments here locally. Because HL is a common and much better understood form of cancer, the treatment protocols are well established and more widely available. But this time I have been diagnosed with Non Hodgkin's Peripheral T-Cell Lymphoma NOS (Not Otherwise Specified). This is a much rarer form of cancer, which is why we decided to pursue treatment at a cancer research hospital like Duke. They are on the cutting edge of cancer research and treatments worldwide. We are so fortunate to have Duke nearby. I can't imagine having to travel several hours, by car or plane, and stay there for perhaps days at a time. My Oncologist is Dr. Anne Beaven, a very impressive physician in whom we have the utmost confidence. I am taking part in a clinical trial and my progress will be monitored extremely closely. It is amazing how much detail they get into. I will only be receiving chemo, with no radiation scheduled. My chemo treatments will be in 7 week cycles. This is Week 1 and I will be receiving chemo 3 days this week. Weeks 2 and 3 are off weeks. In Weeks 4, 5 and 6 I will receive one treatment each week and Week 7 is an off week. Then the cycle is repeated. After the 2nd, 4th and 6th cycles I am closely reassessed and progress noted. The objective is to get the cancer into remission, something that is not easy with NHL. If and when remission is achieved, the treatments are discontinued. At that point other options will be considered to keep it in remission. So six 7 week cycles could mean as many as 42 weeks of treatments, potentially lasting into May of next year. That could get depressing if you thought about it but we are taking things one day at a time right now. We are focused on the goal of remission and not on the journey we have to take to get there. Holly and I certainly are thinking quite a lot about the return of cancer in our lives. But we will not allow this unwelcome intruder to push all else aside. We must, and will, go on with our lives, enjoying and loving each other, our children and grandchildren, our retirement, and everything else that makes life worth living. Our God did not create us to live in fear, but rather in His joy.