Estamos en paz

Estamos en Paz

This week was the “week off.”  I went in Monday to top off my fluids and do bloodwork and everything is going as expected.  I also tried to experiment on what the proper Imodium dosage should be…I undershot.  So I’ll be going in Thursday for some more fluids.  I also stopped in to see my buddy Dr. Koushik Shaw.  Now I didn’t have any plumbing issues, but one of my portocath stitches didn’t completely dissolve and started to fester.  Since he is one of my customers too, I stopped by to check on the office manager and dropped in on the good doctor.  I showed him the issue and he quickly grabbed some hemostats and scissors and patched me up. If you live anywhere near Austin and don’t use Dr. Shaw for urology needs, you are doing yourself a disservice.

My wife is recovering nicely from her surgery and is finally starting to feel a sense of normal.  It’s funny, people think I am crazy for sticking with the plan for Nita to have surgery.  What I can tell you is that I am a process guy.  I see things a little differently than others but I am able to really break down all the events that need/are going to happen, map them out on a timeline (mentally), and see the intersections, obstacles, and milestones.   In short while Nita was down, I was on the upswing (mostly).  When I’m down next week, Nita will be on the upswing and on the North side of her previous condition.  So all in all, we’ll have one person at three-quarters to full strength at all times.  Maybe not optimal, but the best we can hope for given the circumstances without blowing up a holiday.

A lot of folks called, texted, and emailed me to check on my first week.  Thanks for that.  Quite a few people who have gone through similar challenges or who have overcome short odds also reached out to me this week to give hope and guidance.    It really is amazing how many folks have been affected by and have overcome these diseases.  It reminded me of the movie Constantine where Keanu Reeves had the ability to see angels and demons no one else could see.  All I can say is there are a lot of survivors walking among us.  God bless them.  And no I can’t see dead people.  I’ve also heard from some folks that had previously felt alone and doubted their ability to continue the fight.  They have found a renewed strength in my story and for that I am humbled and glad to help.  I truly feel that this may be a calling I was asked to answer.  That perhaps this cancer was put in me to help others, or I could be overthinking it.  Either way, I’m glad it is helping some people.

My taste buds are changing a little bit.  I have a buddy who a couple of years ago was trying to convince me to spend a grand on a new water filtration system to my faucet in order to produce better quality ice cubes for our bourbon.  Yes you read that correctly, and no I didn’t do it.  Anyway, the other day he and I were drinking water and I mentioned that they must have filled it from a brand new garden hose.  He furrowed his brow and took another drink and stated flatly, “Dude, you know I’m a water snob right?  This water is fine.  It must be the platinum in the drugs.”

This weekend is Halloween and it is my daughter’s favorite holiday.  Of course the kids love the candy, but the costumes and house decorations are what really does it for her.  She watches spooky shows and we even went to the spooky Austin Symphony concert.  The kids made us put up the graveyard on October 2 and they did a lot of the work themselves. So our graveyard is up and full of skeletons and groundbreakers.  The timing of Halloween is perfectly synched with my treatments (coincidence or blessing?) so I’ll be as healthy as I can be and will be able to weather even a moist trick-or-treating campaign should the forecast be correct.  But I’m not worried, I’m not going to melt, it’ll be fun.  We’ll hop in our golf cart and cruise the hood.  I even bought a fog machine for the graveyard, the kids are very excited.

 

A couple of weeks ago during the preparation for the side effects, I told the kids that I might lose my hair.  They both then took turns messing up daddy’s hair to get while the getting’ was good.  Wednesday night while I was putting Josie to bed she was very concerned about my hair.  “Daddy are you sure you are going to lose your hair? Will it be gone tomorrow?  What if people who usually see you with hair don’t know it’s you?”  I reassured her that it would grow back and that I have a lot of hats, and that people would understand…and yes I was pretty sure I would lose it and most likely this weekend.  The good news is I ordered an Austin Powers wig to go with my groovy costume…just in case.  I suppose I could have gone Dr. Evil, but I already had the Powers get up.  But bless her heart, she is really insightful for her age and is struggling with the known and unknown.  I just hope and pray that she doesn’t see me in so much pain that she needs therapy, I’d rather suck it up and smile.  My gift to my princess.

While Nita was recovering, and technically so was I, my mother came to help out a few times.  We talked about some of the things I did as a kid.  I watch my son and daughter and realize the apple hasn’t fallen too far from the tree.  They are smart and mischievous. I remember one particular series of events in high school.  I had this Spanish teacher with whom I did not get along.  I did my work, but did not like her method of teaching.  She in turn expected more of me because my mother was fluent and was actually born in Mexico. I felt (at the time because I was a dumb kid) that I should have been held to the same standards of the class.  In any case, we butted heads and she gave me lower marks because of it.  So in order to get extra credit there was a Spanish poetry contest being held at the University of Texas for all high school kids in the central Texas area.  She told me if I merely participated I would get an extra grade level added to my grade.  So I memorized and practiced my poem and speech in Spanish.

I got to the building and stood in front of my panel of judges and ripped off my poem and I nailed it.  The poem (I will never forget) was En Paz by Amado Nervo, not to be confused with OKGO's video This Too Shall Pass.  At the completion I was told to wait a little while.  Afterwards, I was told that I had qualified for the finals and to come later that afternoon to once again deliver the poem.  I did not. :). I neither told my parents, nor anyone that I was in the finals.  In my mind, I had fulfilled my part of the bargain.  I was there to compete, I was not there to win.  My teacher’s pride quickly turned to white hot anger.  She was furious and called my parents.   My mother was upset and “humiliated” while my father suppressed a laugh and said that even though he saw my point, I should have known better and what I did was parallel to quitting, and “Martinez’ don’t quit.”  I ended up getting the grade on a technicality but clearly our teacher student relationship did not improve.  And now y’all can see what kind of smart ass I am (in case you didn’t already know) and what sins I will be and am currently paying for with my kids.  What is really funny is that I didn’t quit.  I am very competitive and had every intention of being the best.  At the same time, I was being a jerky kid and refused to give the teacher the satisfaction of sharing my victory.  So I’ll be paying for that for a while.

As I pray each night I am truly thankful for all the gifts and experiences I’ve had.  I have had an incredibly eventful life and have a wonderful family.  I have amazing friends and community support.  The lessons my father taught me are commonly flowing out of my mouth to my children and I can honestly say that “Martinez’ don’t quit” has crossed my lips on more than several occasions.  I’ve been able to see quite a few countries, almost every state, and have spent time with professional athletes, rock stars, and actors.  I’ve had a pretty full life.  I think it’s why I’m so calm about everything.  Don’t get me wrong, I still intend to fight like hell to watch my kids grow up and continue teaching them lessons so they don’t pull dumb ass stuff like I did. 

(Aside – Seriously, camera phones and social media would not have gone well for me and my youth.  I’m not saying I was a bad kid or a criminal, I think we all know that, but I did a lot of stupid kid stuff and youthful indiscretions have now become looping video clips.  So, that’s another reason to feel blessed because well I think many of you probably feel the same way.  Hell some of you were with me, am I right?  I’m not sure how kids today survive with so many cameras recording their every move).

My point is I’ve had a great experience.  My friends, family, and community.  I have a group of Aggies on a recruiting site that I can honestly tell you that few of you would believe the extent of their generosity and caring.  It’s nothing short of amazing, most of these guys have never met me and only know me through my blog and snarky comments on the message boards.  So the aforementioned poem talks about a person who at his twilight is settling up with Life.  He says that Life never promised him good times exclusively.  He states that he loved, was loved, and the sun caressed his face.  The very last line in Spanish is, “Vida, nada me debes, estamos en paz.” In English, “Life you don’t owe me anything, we are at peace.  So it is funny that just Wednesday morning that poem popped into my head when I was speaking with my mother.  We laughed about the contest and she blamed my children’s mischief on my actions as a child (like all mothers/grandmothers do I suppose).  But I’m good, no Ragrets (We’re the Millers).  I’m at peace.  Now go call your mother.