A Happy Thanksgiving with the Bookmaker

A Happy Thanksgiving with the Bookmaker

Well pass the turkey and a pillow, it’s Thanksgiving!  Happy Thanksgiving all!

Last Saturday my wife decided to attend a Wonders and Worries workshop.  This turned out to be a really beneficial trip.  The kids are growing not only more aware, but are increasingly concerned with the situation.  One or both are routinely waking up in the night and coming downstairs to share their fears and then Nita comforts them and takes them back up to bed.  Well at this workshop there was a suggestion to create a magical worry box.  Each night before bed we sit around as a family and everyone expresses any worry that may potentially keep one up at night or make one sleep less soundly.  We then write down our fears/concerns and put them in the magic worry box.  Josie added that we have to shake it exactly ten times for the magic to work.  Connor added we need to pray to God for the box to work all night.  So of course both are now part of the pre-bedtime ritual.

What this essentially does is allow the children to take their fears and deposit them into a repository to hold until morning, freeing their minds of any concerns while they sleep.  If they choose or remember they can pick up their worries or wonders the next morning after a refreshing slumber. And lo and behold it worked.  As of Thanksgiving morning, only one kid has come down with a fear or nightmare and that may have been due to the alien talk at dinner Monday.  So a well-rested Nita is a much happier Nita which makes for a much happier Marco. J

About those aliens.  So my mother allows the kids to use her computer at her home without supervision.  Thank goodness they are 7 and 5 if you know what I mean (nothing that rhymes with corn). Last week, however, Connor was curious about aliens…so he googled them and started watching youtube videos (I’m told).  Full disclosure, Nita is an X-phile. She loves and loved all things X-file and I’m frankly shocked she’s never suggested that we Halloween as Mulder and Scully in our 12 trips around the sun together. So when the kids started talking aliens at dinner Monday, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. The conversation turned to how we protect the house including shooting lines and escape routes.  Josie had just taken a school field trip to the fire station and she was all about fire safety and having more than one exit, etc.  In any case, we played along with the most impossible and irrational scenarios and were laughing for the entire dinner.  At one point for fun, while determining friend or foe, I asked Connor, “But what if the alien knows your name?”  He stopped, turned and looked me square in the eyes and replied with a completely straight face, “Dad that would be ridiculous.”  That brought down the house.  Nita couldn’t catch her breath for almost two minutes and it was quite possibly the best dinner conversation we’d had in a year.  It might sound silly or stupid, but I honestly wish the entire thing was on video, it was hold your side, tears in your eyes funny.  And it provided a full 20 minute escape from reality. 

 

This week’s new side effect…nose bleeds.  I was invited to the Thanksgiving company party of the good Aggie who is printing and binding the cookbooks (not too late to order I’m told - AY cookbook).  They showed me around and then I had a wonderful lunch with the entire team.  Bill is a great guy and has a fantastic team who can cook and bake with the best of them.  After answering questions about my situation and my company, it looks like they may even become a new customer.  The only disappointing part of the trip (no fault of anyone there) was I caught a nosebleed.  I went to the bathroom to excuse myself and blew out what looked like a crime scene. I hope no one called NCIS when taking out the trash.  When I was home later in the day, it happened again.  Not a steady flow, but a big coagulation in the back near the sinus/septum area.  I asked the nurse about it and she said to be careful when the air gets dry or allergens are up.  My platelets might be low and I have clotting issues so we’ll have to check for that on Monday when I go back for infusion day.  Just another little thing to add to the list.

Speaking of amazing staff, I had an employee situation this week and which has created an exciting turn of events (not in a good way).  The good news is while I have to go to Houston to meet with some of our customers and make sure everything is okay, my lovely and talented wife was able to reschedule my MD Anderson visit to coincide with that schedule.  So customer meetings by day, scans and prodding by night.  I feel like a super hero and hope my body holds up like one. Special thanks to my best friend’s boss for allowing me to use his condo again which is only minutes from the MDA campus.  We really do have a talented group at my company who are constantly going above and beyond.  It makes a huge difference, trust me.  And my boss specifically has been amazing in his support through my ordeal.  It’s a tough combination to beat and it allows me to truly focus on what needs to be done.  All you management students out there checking your “hierarchy of needs” chart, I’m pretty close to the top of the pyramid and it feels pretty good.

Last Friday I received another white blood cell booster.  I was given a compliment that I looked good and didn’t show signs of distress at a staff meeting on Monday (yes I still go to the office).  However those WBC boosters really set into my hips, femurs, and a little in my lower spine.  I guess that is where the magic happens in the marrow regeneration.  It isn’t debilitating and I can power through it, but it does hurt.  And I now know that my game face is pretty good, we’ll keep that going for a while.

Speaking of Friday the kids are out of their minds excited for the day after Thanksgiving.  We decided to do an indoor campout.  The forecast calls for rain and cold Friday and Saturday: so we’re breaking out the sleeping bags; I’m building a huge fire; we’re going to roast some marshmallows; and sleep in the living room as a family.  The Kids have already put new batteries in their flashlights and have told us what games we’re going to play as we “stay up super-late.”  In all honesty I’m excited too.  It is a way to get the family to do a camp out without exposing me to the elements.  I’m sure at some point we’ll hit the great outdoors together, but we’ll see what my scans show that second week of December.

So the week of December 7 will tell us a lot.  The CT scans will show if my tumors/lesions are shrinking, growing, or unchanged.  It will have been the fourth round of chemotherapy and I would think some effect should have taken place.  If not, we could either keep going (perhaps it is still not long enough for a full assessment) or switch to the Folfox (the neuropathy side effect).  By the way, quick aside, the B complex worked and the pain and sensitivity to heat in my fingertips is minimal/tolerable.  So we’ll hope and pray that either the current regimen is working or switching to the Folfox works.  During testing it was discovered that I have a genetic mutation to the third chemo option so that would leave only clinical trials as the remaining viable option.  The downside is my insurance company may be reluctant to pay for any “non-gold standard treatment.”  They’ve already denied funding one genetic screening test which would have enabled the MDA researchers to test the malignant tissue taken out during my surgery against some of the trial medications.  Plus it would require me humping it back and forth to Houston each week instead of the friendly confines of Texas Oncology just up the road.  And I would miss out on Alien-centric dinner conversations which may not sound like much but it would be devastating to my morale.

Don’t ring out.  That is the mantra.  I think anyone who has been reading long enough and/or is a wristband wearer knows what it means. My SEAL buddy told me to find one thing, hold it, and use it to find a way to win.  I guess you all know by now that my family is my one thing.  The antics and laughter of my children.  Their morning hugs and kisses make each day a new gift. The beauty and strength of my wife and her hugs and kisses help me keep fighting and make me want to be a better person.  Those moments hold me together when the pain sets in and doubt momentarily flashes in my mind.  No offense to the rest of you.  My support group is extremely important and I cherish your feedback, prayers, notes, letters, cards, prayer shawls, calls, emails, texts, and acts of kindness and generosity.  I love you all, thank you!  They are all immensely important to my frame of mind and confidence to keep on keeping on. We should take you up on more of your offers, so don’t feel like we don’t appreciate them when we try to hoe our row alone for a while…while we can.  We will eventually accept, so please don’t take our independence as a refusal or lack of appreciation.

So Happy Thanksgiving.  I am thankful for the gift of family, friends, strangers who care enough to come into my life and help, and those whom I have never met but are praying for us anyway some even continents away.  I am thankful for my staff, team and boss at work.  I am thankful for my neighbors who are very present.  I am also thankful that I found that pumpecapple pie/cake on the interweb.  It came on Tuesday and it is beyond decadent. I’ll post the picture of the uncut product because I fear when we try to cut it for dessert I’ll accidentally destroy it...which will only impact the presentation not the taste.  The kids saw it when it was delivered and while it was being moved it to the beer refrigerator.  I am still in awe of the size and depth of it.  It measures (this is not a typo) 11 inches in diameter and 11 inches in height.  Read it again, I’m including a picture next to a dos equis for scale.  One final thank you.  Yesterday I received a gift that is so profound I can’t even mention it, but it is nothing short of life changing.  Thank you R and K (to protect the innocent/guilty)!  Now go hug everyone in your home, tell them you love them.  Call those who can’t be with you and cherish each moment today even the stupid political argument you are bound to have.  Click your heels, appreciate and notice the gifts you have been given that have been around you all along.  And while you rest in your tryptophan induced nap, may you dream of friendly aliens who know your name (the good ones). God bless you TeamMarco@austin.rr.com.

Adding the actual pie with the cuts.

 

 

 

I've Been Violated

I’ve been violated.

First and foremost the white blood cell booster shot worked.  My WBC levels doubled in just a few days and that enabled me to keep all the plans we had for my off-week.  I took Nita to a movie Thursday night, Friday we did our traditional fun family movie night in man cave, Saturday I wrangled three friends and we headed to College Station for the A&M game, and Sunday was my children’s birthday party.  All were a resounding success.

Straight to the game. The drive was easy and I’m actually ashamed I haven’t been doing this more when, well, before.  It was an easy 2 hours, and traffic was light on the way back. We did leave before the game was over with my fellow 2%-ers, but I had to rest before what turned out to be an 11 hour party.  Upon arrival into the parking lot, the tailgaters who invited us to swing by made sure we were stuffed before we got to the stadium.  We had ribs, chili, brisket, fajitas, sausage, corn dogs, more ribs, gumbo, and turned away more food than we were offered.  The boys drank a bunch of beer and no one would take a nickel from us.  The hospitality was what most Aggies are never surprised by, but always appreciative of, a sense of family.  I ran into old friends, old golfing buddies, and an old classmate (3^rd grade, HS, and A&M).  It was an amazing time and my boys were blown away by the entire experience.  It was my first glimpse of the new Kyle field and it was nothing short of spectacular.  Our seats were very close to the cannon which scared the hell out of Pete about five times. 

At the field I had one snack.  I won’t go into the entire story, but my wife calls everyone on Aggie Yell the “nacho guys” after reading a side splitting thread criticizing the nachos at Kyle last year and the lack of jalapeños. By the third page she was in tears. From that point on, they were affectionately labeled the “nacho guys.”  So of course I had the nachos.  They were light on the cheese, but the jalapeños were all you could carry.  Special shout out to my nacho guys for the tickets, parking pass, and tailgate fare.  Another special shout out and reminder that if you want the Aggie Yell cookbook, you must order before Thanksgiving. To order click the link Cookbook order form. Delivery will be in time for Christmas gifts.

Sunday the insanity was kicked up a notch. We had our sixth annual petting zoo birthday party.  How do you follow 100,000 fans the night before? 40 adults and 50 children at a petting zoo…and it was awesome.  There were ducks, geese, chickens, pigs, rabbits, goats, a foal, a calf, and a pony ride.  The kids just loved it.  Then Queen Elsa showed up to surprise my daughter (huge fan), and we ate the obligatory pizza lunch.  I must have looked like Shrek to the kids and parents for shooing everyone away from the food until it was all set up.  It must have been even more alarming to the kids considering almost every other kid party is a free for all, but in all honesty, I had to grab my few slices before the germ warfare wave set in.  Same with the cake.  All the kids were crowding around and I had to push the crowd back like a Missouri protest (too soon?).  But again, we wanted to get a couple of photos and if I didn’t get a slice of cake first, I wasn’t going to get one.  It sounds rude on the surface, but I can’t risk it.  Chemo day is the very next day. If I get sick and have to skip a treatment, it messes up the entire holiday schedule.  And I do NOT want to wear a stupid poison pump while my kids unwrap presents…or worse have to skype them from the intensive care unit at the hospital.  If that seems selfish, I can live with that. 

 

One of my best friend’s wife is from Louisiana.  She brought over the meatiest gumbo I had ever had.  Apparently the secret is thigh meat too.  So my other road trip buddy brought over a rice cooker and bingo, dinner is served.  Against my initial instinct I added some Cholula and survived unscathed…relatively.  I’m telling you this was the best gumbo I had ever had.  I might ask for the recipe and send it in to the cookbook.

We also had a jump bounce house with a smoke machine.  Later in the afternoon my tough as nails boy walked up to me and said, “Dad, someone stepped on my mouth in the bounce house.  Can you help me wash it?”  Now this was an almost 7 year-old who was tasting his own blood and the swelling had already started.  Not one tear, not one blame of who did it or why.  Just a deadpan account of the situation and his solution.  I made him sit on my lap and ice it for ten minutes which he did not like, but accommodated.  I love that boy!  Then Monday night at dinner he was being disruptive.  So I sent him to a time out.  He came back to the table and promptly farted.  Well we certainly admonished his behavior and explained the protocol.  One should excuse oneself, go to another room, and then return once the dissipation is complete.  He promptly and calmly said, “I have to fart again.”  He walked out of the dining room to the door jamb of the next room stuck his butt towards the table, had a slight knee bend, back arched, and then with the slow pull of a chainsaw cord or perhaps a “superman” gesture, he ripped off the next one.  He turned around, faced his audience and my wife and I lost it.  It was about a full minute before anyone at the table could speak.  Two blogs ago notwithstanding, I have no idea where he gets it!  We may need a paternity test. ;)  My boy.

Monday was infusion day.  In my quest for efficiency I parlayed a follow up appointment with my colorectal surgeon who offices across the hall.  We talked about my surgery scars healing and diet.  He’s also a reader of the blog and said my description of the “eating but not hungry” sequence was the most accurate account he’d heard from all his patients in similar circumstances. I then asked when I should schedule my “first” colonoscopy.  He said, I could get another one within a year.  The first step is to try to knock out/reduce the cancer and stay on schedule.  To which I replied, “Another one?”  He said, “Yea, right before your surgery for the large intestine removal and appendectomy I scoped you.  Remember I told you I did some exploratory work, cleaned you out, and removed some polyps?  Well, you my friend have been violated!”  I said, “But I thought I was still clean and pure.” He replied, “Nope, that ship has sailed my friend.” Prison has changed me yo.

So this week, I kept a more time based medication schedule instead of waiting for symptoms.  As of Thursday afternoon it is working.  Not much nausea on Monday and Tuesday morning, not too bad downstairs (metaphorically).  I now take my Imodium after breakfast and lunch.  I do not dose after dinner and then the morning is explosive…rinse repeat, but at least I get cleaned out and it’s only once (or twice) per day.  My fingers are still crossed for the WBC report on Friday.  Either way my oncology doctor has ordered another boost injection so I can survive the holidays (not just mentally).  By the way, I know there are a lot of cancer patient readers now…Dark Chocolate!  You are welcome!  It helps with the nausea.  One or two Ghirardelli squares of the 72% or 86%, and not a whole bag.

A new side effect has sprung up, but I’m not completely convinced it’s an actual thing.  I have pain and sensitivity to heat in my fingertips.  Now remember I chose hair loss over neuropathy and I still have hair (although my beard is thinning).  But here is my dilemma.  I did a lot of moving, lifting and tying on Sunday for the birthday party.  I also was in charge of the piñatas, and of course I didn’t wear gloves.  I used a nylon rope and wonder if maybe I just got some minor rope burns and my body’s slower healing rate and cell regeneration rate is keeping my hands from coming back as quickly.  The jury is still out, but it kind of sucks.  I tried to hold hands with my wife the other day and it was like sticking your fingers in a hot cup of coffee.  I’m going to be patient with this and see if it dissipates, I’m hopeful it was my dumb ass oversight and a reminder to use gloves in the future. Friday update: it’s real.  Now my feet are showing signs of pain walking around.  It’s not so bad with socks or shoes on, but barefoot I can feel little bumps in the floor and it stings a bit.  My oncology nurse recommended taking a B complex solution.  So I’m trying that to see if it helps.  I saw my lab reports and am confident they didn’t “switch recipes” on me.  Oh well, it’s kind of like trying to pick up a bead of mercury with your fingers.  You get some, and it slips away, you corner it and it oozes around your grasp.  So I’ll keep fighting the big stuff with the big stuff and the little stuff with the little stuff.  So goes the new reality.

I found an interesting message that came across my FB feed this week.  It as piece written by a cancer victim’s friend.  It’s too long to include the entire thing, but in short, it spoke about how some find hope in tribulation and some fine hopelessness. It includes a verse from Romans 8:28.  “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  I feel as though my purpose is to help others through their times of pain and uncertainty.  To teach my children how to deal with adversity.  To ensure my family is properly prepared for the future, and to create a legacy for my children.  That legacy is how to be a good father, husband and friend, and to never give up.  This cancer has already helped me lose weight (that I needed) and stop drinking as much (which I also needed).   I am definitely more focused on the important things in life while still fulfilling my business obligations.  I hope I do beat this and when I do, I can keep my focus and discipline in line with my new reality.

Today (Friday November 20) my son turns 7.  We are all so excited for him and he’s finally “two years older than Josie” again rather than the 10 day stretch where he was only one year older.  Last night while Nita was putting Connor to bed Josie said something that was a little troubling.  Now, as some of you are all too aware, Connor is a silver lining kid.  He finds the best in almost any situation, and is a pretty happy go-lucky kid – all smiles.  Josie is more thoughtful about things.  Anyway, last night Josie said, “Dad, you are more important than me.  I want you to live to be 100.”  Well I don’t even want to hit the century mark, but the premise bothered me.  “Sweetheart, there is no way daddy is more important than you, you are way more important.”  She then started to talk about, concerns around if something happened to me, or Nita would they be homeless?  And she didn’t want to be a homeless kid.  WTF?  One might think that because of my candor it might be all I talk about, or an open forum around the house…let me assure you it’s quite the opposite.  The only discussion is when I come home with my pump and I ask the kids to be careful with my IV needle in my chest during hugs.  I don’t tell them about symptoms, pain, medical power of attorney, advanced life directives, etc.  This is my outlet, my vehicle to vent and get it out of my system.  I wouldn’t dream of dragging my children in to my horror movie.

Who has been talking to them about this nonsense?  I certainly haven’t, in fact I’ve been gutting through a lot of shit to avoid having the kids worry.  They can’t read the blog and I most certainly don’t talk about anything morbid within earshot, even jokingly.  I hope it’s not family, but I’ll find out and we’ll nip it in the bud.  5 year old girls should be more worried about which dress or Barbie they are going to play with, not whether or not they need to get a job to stay in a house.  Can you believe that?  She actually asked if she would have to go work to pay for things?!  Who and what has she been talking to and about?  The good news is I was able to calm her down and reassure her that she and her brother were very safe, and there would be no issues and that I was going to be okay.  I can honestly tell you it was heartbreaking to think that such a small girl with such a big heart was expending that much energy on this.  I’m going to email/call wonders and worries and make sure I’m doing the right thing, but my instincts are to deflect and redirect.

Thanksgiving is coming up next week.  We’ve ordered our turkey and pies.  Yes there is plenty to be thankful about.  I am constantly surprised by the number of people who reach out to me and share their private battles.  Some I have known for years, and some only through message boards.  But each have shared very intimate details of their fights with various maladies, and even better have given me guidance on what to expect and how to combat certain things. Most of them who have been in the fight for a while have a very thankful attitude.  Once you accept your situation and realize that each day is a gift and a blessing it gets easier.  Every new day is an opportunity to do something great with someone you love and the BS seems more tolerable.  It’s like your mind has downloaded and internalized both Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and Chicken Soup for the (fill in the blank) Soul. You actually do stop and smell the roses.  For those on the front end of the fight, be patient (if you can) it gets easier and you find more reasons to be thankful.  For those on the sidelines watching and praying, thanks for the support for me and all of us in the fight.  It means a lot more than you may know.  Sorry for the length this week.  Short week next week and I had to squeeze in the game and birthday party.  God bless.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com.  Happy Thanksgiving! Next week teaser. I ordered the Pumpecapple pie/cake from Three Brothers in Houston.  I’ll tell y’all all about it.

 

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

What a huge week this was to be.  Here was the plan: My daughter’s birthday on Tuesday with her pre-school honoring her in both Tuesday and Wednesday chapel service.  Then for dinner we head off to Kobe which is our Teppanyaki style restaurant near the house (think Bennihana). Thursday, the wife and I were going to do a date night, check out a movie at the Moviehouse and Eatery.  Saturday, I would be heading to Kyle field with three buddies to take in a couple of tailgates and the game.  Sunday my children’s joint petting zoo birthday party and pony ride (with a cameo from Queen Elsa).  Connor is turning 7 and Josie is turning 5.  We even went to East Austin on November 8^th to pick out piñatas for the party (and not a minute too soon – get that Halloween candy away from everyone!).  But when I went in for my fluids and bloodwork on Monday…my white blood cell count was down. 

What does that mean?  Well it means a few things.  First, I’m now more susceptible to disease, viruses, etc. It also means that the chemo is effectively challenging my bone marrow, which is trying to keep up.  To further explain, white blood cells are your body’s immune defense system. They protect you against illness and disease.  The fix for this is an injection of Filgrastim.  It effectively tells your bones to generate more white blood cells and you’re supposed to be out of circulation for only 48ish hours (as long as you don’t get sick in the interim).  So it means that I’m on lockdown for at least the next two days.  If I am exposed to someone with the flu or a virus I could end up in the ICU instead of Kyle field on Saturday.  It also causes flu-like symptoms and bone pain (like growing pains) in the large bones (femur, sternum, skull, and pelvis) so there’s that.  Because of the elevated risk of infection I am not supposed to shave with a razor or pick up dog poop much less crowds of children or 105,000 football fans. But it’s only for a couple of days.

So my dilemma is: do I attend my daughter’s chapel service where the whole school will sing happy birthday to her?  Hell yes I do.  But I’ll have to sit in the back away from the human petri dish that is the 18 month-2 year old class.  Also my wife and kids have to slather on sanitizer and wash their hands before any daddy hugs are dished out.   It also means we have to send out a note to the party invitees and offer the proviso that if your child is sick, please do not attend the party.  I’m pretty sure by now everyone on the invitation knows my situation and will completely understand…if they don’t, well guess who isn’t coming next year.  Calling all my 40+ year-olds.  Remember when John Travolta played the Boy in the Plastic Bubble?  Well, it’s not quite that bad, but I can’t afford to take too many chances until the Filgrastim does its job. The crappy thing was this was supposed to be my “off” week where I could do all this cool stuff with my buddies and kids. The upside is I’ve already met two people at chemo camp that have similar cancer with similar treatments that did not lose their hair. Sometimes we embrace the little victories.  Although my beard seems to have stopped growing out.  I still have to shave, but it is lighter.  I used to have to trim my goatee twice a week, I haven’t trimmed it in two weeks. Oh well, one less thing.

Tuesday worked out pretty well.  I stayed home on house arrest and actually got quite a bit of work done.  I was able to attend my daughter’s birthday chapel and she couldn’t resist running to the back of the church to give me a big hug.  That evening we took the grandmothers and kids out to the Teppanyaki steakhouse and everyone had a great time watching all the fire and blade work of the chef.  I sanitized everything and kept a small bottle of purell with me at all times.  My hip bones ache quite a bit and my right femur a little. Nothing a couple of hydrocodones can’t knock out. 

The nausea is mostly in check this week and I’ve been very proactive with the Imodium.  All the anti-nausea meds have constipating effects.  I cannot imagine going through this with no Imodium or anti-nausea meds.  I would be a stick person on an IV fluid drip.  The appetite is moderate.  I’m not actually hungry, but my stomach knows when it’s time to eat.  Food tastes a little differently now, but still close to the original form or maybe that’s my mind taking over. The salt and sweet are distinctly off.  For example the fried rice at Kobe was bland no matter how much soy sauce I added, same with the Chateau Briand.  It looked right but tasted like hambuger, finally my mom’s chicken caldo tasted bland no matter how much salt I added (I got the hint and stopped).  Meals now are kind of like sleepwalking. You know you are done when you don’t feel like eating anymore and you are more interested in whether or not you need the nausea meds, Imodium, or both after each one (although I’m finding being proactive is better than waiting).  The upside is the meals don’t really matter that much anymore.  Whatever is served is fine, and I won’t be hungry afterwards so mission accomplished. And I’m holding everything down so far, I’m sure there are many who have far worse circumstances. In any case, I’m doing okay, weight is holding steady, don’t need any pity.  I’m managing and am able to maintain the game face at dinner with the kiddos.

Quick brag on my Aggie community.  You all know we are a pretty tight knit community anyway.  Well one of the guys owns a print shop.  In 2011 they did a cookbook of all their best recipes and back stories.  The books were reasonably priced and were distributed in time for Christmas.  All profits were sent to a charity.  This year, they are redoing the book with “best of” recipes from the first one and new recipes on the current cookbook.  They are generously donating the profits to offset my mounting medical bills.  I was touched by the gesture.  Hopefully and without sounding like a hack, if you are interested you can order a cookbook by going to this website: Aggie Yell Cookbook link.  All orders must be placed prior to Thanksgiving and will be delivered before Christmas.

So there has been a lot of talk about how “tough” I am.  Well, I suppose I’m tough enough, but I never had to hump an 80 pound ruck up a mountain on limited rations.  And no one (as of yet) has applied electricity to my testicles (where are my SEALs?). And to be honest I cry a lot.  I cannot make it through Love, me by Collin Raye without tears down both cheeks.  I think a lot about beating this and what my next steps are, but I also think about the math.  Facebook is a funny thing, what you had for lunch notwithstanding.  I see celebrations with grandchildren, 80^th and 90^th birthday parties, and I reasonably accept that those will never happen for me. About a year ago my wife and Josie were playing with her wedding dress.  We took some cute pictures of her in it.  About a month ago I had an idea that maybe we should put Josie in the dress and shoot a video of me walking her down a church aisle that they could play at her actual wedding.  Chances are I will not be in attendance.   These are the things that make me cry alone.  But when the family comes home, game face baby. I don’t need a pity party, I can handle the physical part well enough so far and I have the mental fortitude to deal with it.  Most importantly is my family needs life to be as normal as we can make it.  My gift to them.

Thursday I went for fluids and to check my white cell count.  The results were…GREAT!  My white blood cell count doubled and I’m firmly in the normal range.  It was awesome, my nurse (who gets my jokes and sense of humor now) just walked over, handed me my labs and said, “Have fun at the game!”  Although I’m excited about the game I’m even more excited about being able to participate in the kids’ birthday party.  How blessed am I?

One final note of housekeeping.  I get a lot of folks who apologize for bringing up their problems to me followed by “grand scheme of things” type apologies.  No one is keeping score.  Everyone’s issues are important, real and significant.  All issues matter to those who are affected.  There is no need to apologize just because they may not be well, life and death…and certainly not to me.  I get it, and I’m happy to help with whatever I can.  It isn’t a bother, I’m the same problem solving guy I was three months ago, keep ‘em coming.  I’ll let everyone know next week how the game and birthday party went.  God bless you, He certainly has blessed me.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com.

 

Bourbon Saves the Holidays

Bourbon saves the holidays

Now some of you are already saying, “Duh, tell me something I don’t know.”  This, however, is actually a case of scheduling genius/luck.  It turns out the A&M v. Alabama bourbon game bought me more than a week with my pals.  More on that later.

This week was another infusion week. Infusion is the technical term for chemo, much like “accessing the port” means they are going to stick a needle in your shoulder and pump you full of fluid, some of it good, and some not so good, but necessary.  Monday was also my wife’s birthday, dia de los muertos which is NOT celebrated at chemo camp.  Go figure. I’m starting to get the hang of the routine and the faces and names are more and more familiar.

Oh, here is a tip, always buy stock in battery companies before the holidays, they usually out-perform.  And this year, I may single handedly boost Imodium sales, so I’d keep an eye on that company. I’m getting the hang of my timing and dosage.  It does cause some headaches though.  It made me think of a funny commercial.  Not sure if my mind came up with it or if it has already been done, but it would essentially be some guys standing around talking about their symptoms but instead of listing the drug name, they rattle off the side effects.  Zoom in on two guys talking about their symptoms and remedies.  “So Bill, how is that incontinence? Not bad Steve, I’m taking headaches, bloody nose, and numbness in my extremities, bloating, dizziness, and suicidal thoughts for it.  Thanks for asking.”

The nausea was worse this time than the last time.  I also developed some sores and thrush in my mouth, but my trusty buddy/wrestling bro/dentist had a mouth rinse compound made for me and it helped alleviate my mouth issues in a couple of days.  The nausea has been controllable with the meds, but the feeling doesn’t dissipate as easily this time.  I’ve also developed quite an affinity for Pedialyte. The results are I look like a frat boy being hazed when I’m by myself, and a happy thespian when the kids are around.  I have to keep reminding my mother to stop looking at me with pity or sadness when my children are in the room.  I’m working too hard on my appearance to give it all away like that.  I was warned that there would be a cumulative effect to the chemo, so here we go.

Tuesday I woke up feeling better.  Perhaps the Avastin has somewhat filtered out or my body got somewhat acclimated to it.  I wonder if it’s like Wesley in the Princess Bride and his tolerance to iocane powder, either way, I feel better.  One thing that bothers me is I don’t feel dangerous anymore.  Now I’m not saying that grown men should mix it up or get in fights and I can’t tell you the last time I actually threw a punch at another human stranger.  But I was always aware of my surroundings and felt I could hold my own. Now I think I could still do most of what I could, but am also very cognizant of the damage it could do to me.  For example, I won’t clot as easily now.  I even travel with a little “go bag” which includes a puke bag, saltines, water, Imodium, anti-nausea meds, and field-grade coagulant.  Not that I was some über bad ass, but I at least knew how to get a fight to the ground and take care of business.  In any case, I’m in “setting example for my kids” mode and maybe walking away from trouble is a better lesson than blowing up a d-bag.  However, if my wife or child are in danger…it’s go time.  I don’t care what happens to me, I’m on borrowed time anyway.

That being said, the aforementioned dentist has a son in Connor’s grade.  They love to play with each other and they rough house plenty (which he and I think is great). I think we’re going to either try to get some mat time, or just use my man cave and teach them to wrestle properly. There are a lot of great lessons you learn on the mat that carry you throughout your life. Plus it might be better for them to work with guys in their own weight class instead of two dads torturing their kids yelling for them to hook a leg, or get to your base, although Connor has always enjoyed wrestling and has never gotten upset even when I put a bunch of weight on him...my boy!

Josie decided she wanted to play baseball this spring and Connor is still on the fence.  So we’ll see.  That being on the table, I’m glad I chose diarrhea and hair loss over neuropathy.  Speaking of which, as of Wednesday I still have hair. I’m sitting at a crossroads here where my hair is getting a bit long and fro-ish, but do I wait it out or go get a haircut?  I also made a deal with my daughter. She has been VERY concerned about my potential hair loss.  So since she’s really into art the deal I made was if my hair goes, she can draw on my head and use it as a canvass. So when I come to Kyle field for the Aggie game in a week or so, I don’t want to hear any shit if there are butterflies and flowers on my head.  Or if I still have hair why it’s out of control.  Wednesday addendum.  While they were removing my pump I asked about my hair, they said it would take a few more weeks and it would gradually thin out, not fall out all at once like foghorn leghorn (“I keep my feathers numbered for just such an occasion”).  So I bit the bullet and got a haircut Wednesday after my fluids. 

I’m sure many of you are asking, “Marco, how is the flatulence?”  Well let me tell you.  It’s not good.  I’m not sure if it is a result of the surgery where they removed 9” of colon and cleared a blockage, the chemo, the constant barrage of anti-nausea meds stacked with Imodium, or the new diet.  But whatever the culprit, I’ve cleared more than one room.  And it is fairly constant.  Further, sorry ladies, it has gotten to the point where I can’t just excuse myself and leave the room, it has become too frequent and I’m not training for a 10K.  So there it is, this is my scent, know me.

In the intro I mentioned that bourbon and Aggie football saved the holidays.  Well lo and behold by waiting that extra week the entire holiday schedule unfolded beautifully.  My chemo weeks do not coincide with any holidays other than New Years.  My off weeks include: Halloween, my children’s birthday party, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the NCAA football playoffs (even Valentine’s Day is straddled).  How is that for getting lucky?  Who says God isn’t watching over me?

This week was also my wife’s birthday.  Unfortunately the actual day was my infusion day and instead of lunch with her girlfriends she wanted to come sit with me…winning!  Anyway, I asked a friend to deliver her birthday present while we were away and she loved it.  If you have time to read another blog, this is why we have a big metal rooster on our front porch.  http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/.  In any case, it has been an inside joke between us for years, it was the perfect gift this year, and the kids went insane with joy.  Our’s is not named Beyoncé but rather “shiny chicken” courtesy of the kiddos.  We had a nice dinner at home and some cake.  I wished we could have done more, but maybe later and clearly everyone understands.

Our golf club has two main money game groups.  Each group thinks they are better than the other and there is a lot of smack talk.  So ten years ago the gauntlet was thrown down and we started a Ryder cup style event with dinners, speeches, uniforms and everything.  We call it the Dawg Bowl, and there is a trophy and champagne at the end that the winners drink out of while the losers watch.  The dinner is funded by the loser from the previous year.  I’ve played in all 9 previous events.  Whether I was sick, hurt, it didn’t matter.  And I always put up points for the team.  Well this year was the first time I’ve missed this event, but the gang at the club still included me by giving me a group toast at the dinner held this week. I cannot tell you how much all the love and support mean to me. I am getting it from all directions and it is beyond humbling.  It also reminded me of a dawg bowl a few years back.  I was 5 holes down at the turn and some guy from the other team came and chirped at me about losing before we got to number 15 (our signature hole).  Well that lit a fire and I fought my way back to win 1-up on 18.  Never give up, never surrender is part of my character. I hope my kids pick it up and learn this lesson.  If they do, then my time circling the sun will not have been wasted.  I have a pretty good feeling and I hope you do too.  I also just received a nice little note from Coach Kevin Sumlin on Thursday.  To whomever set that up, thank you!  It made my day.

New wristbands are on order with glow in the dark lettering and youth sizes.  If interested, let me know.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com.