Thursday, December 29, 2011

2011 - The Year Cancer Got Its Butt Kicked

Let's have a look back on the Year That Was 2011.

January - The year began with a trip to the poorly-named Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center to meet the Wizard.  We returned to Atlanta for my first chemo session. And then I started learning how to manage my side effects, including some steroid-induced insomnia.

February - My next couple of rounds of chemo brought me closer to my new BFF, Imodium. In fact I wrote a poem singing her praises.  Marcie and I also had a little alone time in the Tennessee foothills, which was a welcome break from the new routine. 

March - Came in like a lion, and out like a mouse. Yeah, I know, it's supposed to be a lamb, but stay with me here. See I was lyin' on the PET Scan table for the first time, and getting great results earlier in the month and we were packing for our awesome family trip to Disney at the end.

April - We knew to expect princesses, pirates, and even seven vertically-challenged whistlers, but we had no idea we'd also meet an angel named Doris at Disney. We said a peaceful goodbye to a mother from A&J's class that month, and recalled my own mother's favorite time of year, the family gatherings at the Seder Table.

May - As the month began the cumulative effects of 6 rounds of Chemo were beginning to take a toll on me. But a mid-month PET Scan showed continued good results, so I got over it. Marcie and I celebrated our 18th anniversary to close out the month, just as the Week From Hell began.

June - We survived that first week, thrilled by Adam's performance in Guys and Dolls, and touched by the number of friends and family that joined us for his Bar Mitzvah. And for some reason, I decided that was the perfect time to start writing a book

July - It's hard to imagine a better father-son month than July '11. Adam and I ran the Peachtree Road Race together on the 4th, in his first ever 10k. Then we jetted off to NYC for a few days in the city that never sleeps - apparently because it's 104 degrees at midnight! 

August - I learned that my feet and hands have much in common with dairy cow teets. My book made it to Amazon that month too, and I started making plans for that little beach house we've always wanted and would soon be able to afford with the proceeds from book sales. I'm only about 300,000 books short of my goal now. 

September - I was treated to one Falcons Game Road Trip and won another one, doubling the number of NFL games I'd seen in person in the last 10 years. There were some interesting characters at chemo session #12. 

October - I met the Pulitzer Prize Winning Author in person and even told him mine was the bathroom companion book to his. I also held my own book signing later in the month and was humbled by the turnout of friends and supporters. Oh, and Dr Z. told me there was No Evidence of Disease

November - Running was making a big return in my life by now, and the blog posts about spending a great weekend with friends in Savannah and winning the survivor's category in my underwear later in the month certainly reflected that trend. I also challenged the Almighty, in memory of yet another mom whose life cancer cut short. 

December - Life is beginning to return to normal, which leaves me with less to write about. I am so grateful for this year, for the good health I now enjoy, for my family who put up with all the challenges of my illness and varying mental state, and for the friends, co-workers, and readers whose support carried my through some of those tough days. I look forward to celebrating a 2012 that I hope will be easier on all of us, and so full of good times that's there no room left for anything else. 

Monday, December 19, 2011

Live From the Chemo Room #16

J'ever notice how when you have a short appointment it's on a day when the Dr.'s office is really crowded and running late? I hate that.

That was my Andy Rooney tribute, but it does describe my morning so far.

I'm looking forward to giving a hard time to the chemo nurse from last time. I switched one of my meds from an infusion to a shot, and she managed to give me a two inch bruise on the back of my arm. I thought the bruising was a side effect of my other drug, but Dr. Z says it was bad technique. It will be light hearted, of course, but I will milk it a bit.

I met a new patient today who is starting on Oxaliplatin, the drug that caused all my lovely side effects. I was able to share some tips about warming your drinking water, etc. He is on his second round of pancreatic cancer treatment. His wife and son are here with him. Son's about my age. They all have the right attitude.

I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season. Give your family extra hugs this year. I know I will.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Touching a Nerve

A while back I wrote a post about smelling cigarette smoke on somebody waiting for chemo. It made me wonder how I "should" feel about somebody who engages knowingly in risky behavior and then suffers from consequences that were very possible to likely.  I posted links to that blog post on LinkedIn and Twitter, generating much more traffic than most of my posts do. Boy, did I touch a nerve with that one!

For the record:
I do not think anyone deserves cancer, lung or otherwise.
I do know that many people who are not smokers and who never were smokers are diagnosed with lung cancer each and every day.
I do feel empathy and sympathy for anyone dealing with cancer - those with the disease, their family members, and others helping them cope with it.

Still, based on some of the reactions to that post, you would think I'd said "anyone with lung cancer deserves to suffer" and "don't spend any money on lung cancer research because only smokers get lung cancer."

My point today isn't to argue the merits of my post or of the responses I received to it. It is to acknowledge that in the middle of the fight, our perception is often and understandably skewed. Like the angry driver just looking for somebody to cut him off so he can lay on the horn, or worse, we read something on a website with clenched teeth and fingers ready to pounce in reply. I get that. You've been through hell. Or hell, maybe you're still in hell, and along comes somebody you don't know who thinks he can say something provocative just to generate traffic on his website or to somehow drive sales of his stupid little book. So you lay into him.

And realizing he's wandered into a bees nest, he slowly backs out, removing the external links to his post so that only those who find his blog more directly will ever run into that offensive post again.

To those offended by my words, I'm sorry. I hope the fight you are a part of is a successful one.