Traditions
The Martinez family has a few family traditions some of
which are integrated into those of our neighborhood. I also went to a school that taught me the
importance of maintaining traditions no matter what. In fact, even after I transferred to Texas
Lutheran, I took a few fellow baseball players with me to the very next Aggie
Bonfire. They constantly remind me what
an amazing experience it was. So they
are important, they matter, and they do make impressions. Now
we don’t actually do anything to the magnitude of setting up four rows of logs
with a crane and spraying them down with Jet A, but we do have some pretty neat
things to discuss.
Last year was Connor’s first year to throw trees. Our neighborhood does not have
streetlights…except during Christmastime.
The lights are actual Christmas trees decorated with C9 lights. Our HOA sells and delivers 650 Christmas trees
each year to the neighborhood. We start
around 6:30AM using four trucks with flatbed trailers. About 20-30 guys, and
10-15 kids load up these trees and we drive around delivering to all that
ordered one…no matter what the weather is like.
Some years you are in jeans and t-shirts, others in snow gear. This year was high 30s, low 40s and clear,
not too bad. Instead of throwing, I was
the navigator this year, checking off the boxes for the neighbors who did and
didn’t order (I felt like Santa). Connor
had a blast in the back of the flatbed dragging trees to the front yard with
two other kids. It’s great to see all
the neighbors come out and start putting up their tree that early in the
morning, I love the spirit and how deeply they embrace the tradition. Our hood goes pretty Griswold and it is a fun
place to drive around during the season.
This year we put up our first live tree as a family. We had previously used a pre-lit artificial
tree and I actually set a record (personal) one year with complete set up in
under 7 minutes, including the fluffing (now go wash your mind out with soap,
you know who you are). Because of the
convenience of front steps delivery, we didn’t go cut our own tree, but just
might next year. The smell in the house
is fantastic and the wife and kids had a great time hanging ornaments and as
usual it is bottom heavy. Of course after
the last ornament is hung our tradition includes putting the angel on the top
to bless the house and remind us the true meaning. Afterwards Connor and I went outside and did the
lawn decorations. It usually takes three
times longer with his “help” and last year it annoyed me…but I wouldn’t trade
it for the world this year (what was I thinking last year?). I hope that we continue this for a while, and
when the time comes, Connor knows to do it on his own for his mother and Josie. He’s a good boy, I’m sure he will.
The next day is Christmas cart caroling. Living in a golf community that allows
personal carts has given life to this event.
People come to the golf club (who
provides carts to those who don’t own their own and a hayride for the kids) and
we decorate our golf carts in a Christmasy way.
Then we go to five or six predetermined homes in the neighborhood and
children and adults sing carols. Josie is turning into quite the performer and
was pretty much center stage complete with hand gestures and some dance
moves. Nita was a drum major in high
school and marched in the Longhorn band for three years, so she led the
music. There are hot toddies, fireballs
(this year), and lots of fun. Then we
head back to the club where cookies and cocoa are set out to reward the worn
out carolers. I’ve been the traffic cop
for the last 7 or so years and enjoy my post.
Most people are excited and understanding about a slow tractor pulling
20 kids in a trailer followed by 20 more golf carts…some are not. At the end of the day, everyone has a great
time and it’s a wonderful event to which we look forward each season.
While we’re on tradition, my mother’s favorite musical is Fiddler on the Roof. My first job out of college in 1992 was
selling fax machines and copiers. I made
$1,000 per month plus commission. When I
got my very first paycheck I purchased tickets to a small theater rendition of Fiddler on the roof for my parents and
me to attend. It was a small production,
but that was my way of giving back as much as I could afford for all the years
of love and support. Since then, mom has
obviously been taken care of and is now living a mile away from us, including her
own golf cart to shuttle back and forth. If I have done my job, the kids will
do the same for their mother.
So why am I writing all this? I really hope this doesn’t come across like a
Facebook version of “hey here’s a picture of my lunch.” There are a lot of
reasons, but a very important one is so my children will know me. I want them to read the stories I may not be
able to tell them later. I want them to
know how much I love them, even when they fart at the table. (20 year-old Connor is either thanking God
that this never got published, or wondering why and how in the hell Nita was
able to get this published). I want them
to know that I’d fight to the depths of hell and back and endure anything for
them. Hopefully someday I can just read
these to them and we’ll all have a nice laugh.
Realistically, I probably won’t see them graduate from high school and
won’t be around to help them select a college, a career, or give relationship
advice. It is certainly a VERY long shot
to be around to help advise (solicited or “un”) on parenting. So this is my medium to guide them. A further benefit is some of you can find
inspiration, strength, love, support, and comradery through my
experiences. I’m happy to help any who
want or need it. Finally, by pouring out
my soul many people are reaching out to me, praying, crying, laughing, you name
it with me. And that helps me. Going through this knowing you are loved and
supported makes it a lot easier than wondering why you are getting another
round of shots, taking another med, being bled again, etc.
Tuesday after seeing customers it was time to see if the
current drug protocol is working. The unnerving
thing is that I get to go back to the condo (thanks George) and sleep knowing
that my Doctor and nurses know if it’s working…but I won’t, I get to wait until
11AM the next morning. There are worse
spots in which to be I suppose. When I
got there I was looking forward to using my port-o-catheter instead of having
my arms stuck for blood draws and the contrast dye. I showed up at the MD
Anderson (MDA) facility just before my appointment at 5 for my blood draw, they
had to stick my arm. I then had until 6:30
to start my Barium cocktail for my contrast CT scan. Well, for all you MDA potential
visitors, here is a tip. If MDA didn’t
install your port, they won’t use it, unless you have an x-ray of it to
“verify” the location. They can schedule
an x-ray…before 5. Or you have to go to
another wing to get it done…and the port has to be started by the nurses in
Infusion, on another floor. I didn’t
have time to navigate the maze so I chose arms one last time…and of course they
missed and lanced one vein for good measure nd I leave with three puncture
wounds including one heroin chic bruise.
Also, I was hoping that between 5PM (bloodwork) and 6:30PM (CT check in)
I could grab a bite; I hadn’t eaten since lunch. Nope, one is supposed to fast for three hours
prior to lab check in. Plus of course
they were running an hour late, which I found out by experience not at the
front desk. By the time I was done, I
wasn’t even hungry anymore, but I’m not supposed to skip meals, so I had an Ensure
and a banana around 11:00PM.
When the scan was over around 10:30, I also discovered that
the shuttle stopped running...at 8:30.
So I had to carry my stuff about a quarter mile to the main building through
the sky bridge all the while with a feeling that the valet stand had closed for
the night. Fortunately it hadn’t. I was
talking to my wife on my walk back, semi-complaining about how late it was, no
shuttle, etc. And then I got hit with my
own dose of perspective. While standing
in the valet area waiting for my car, a child was wheeled in. A child with no hair, wheeled presumably by her
parents, balloons on the back of the chair, IV lines in. A smiling child, enjoying a moment outside
before heading back to her room for the night. I immediately thought, “My God, what if this
were happening to Connor or Josie?”
Thank God this is happening to me instead. As strong as some of you think I am, I don’t
think I could bear watching my child go through this. Perhaps I could find another gear, but I’m
not very confident. Sure I can take this
for me, and I think I know where my mental and physical tolerance points are
(thank you wrestling team and Dell). I
would crumble into a mess and probably drink myself to death if it happened to
my children. So, in the course of five
seconds I went from complaining to thankful. And it was sincere. Nita even said, “Honey, don’t even think
that.” But it was true, I’m sure some of
you read this and thought, “I would gladly suffer so my children would not
(those without teenagers I presume)” and now you know how I felt. It was one more log on my bonfire. By the
way, my bonfire is my imaginary bonfire of strength (something like Ed Norton’s
ice cave in Fight Club). As things come along, another blessing, a
smile or laughter from my wife and children, another reason, another act of
kindness, etc....I take that virtual log and toss it on my fire to keep it
burning. It’s a visualization thing that
helps me confidently: rest, sleep, take on whatever; as long as my fire is
burning with plenty of fuel nearby to keep it going.
It reminded me of Connor’s surgery this year. He’s a redhead and as some of you may or may
not be aware, they need more anesthesia than non-redheads. So when he went to the dentist for a
filling(s), the Demerol and nitrous could not get him comfortable enough for
the work to be done. We’d also been told
by an ENT (ear, nose and throat doctor) that his tonsils were large (4). In fact he contracted strep throat twice in three
weeks a couple of years ago. When we were
told the dentist needed to fully sedate him for his fillings we called the ENT
to see if he could do the tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy concurrently
(consecutively). Apparently they do this
all the time. It was pretty easy all
things considered, 1.5 hours for seven fillings, two teeth pulled, and the
tonsils/adenoids. (Before you ask if he
eats candy before bed every night…he had hyperplasia due to a couple of high
fevers as a child. It affected his
enamel formation). But one night in the
hospital then home. Connor was a stud. No complaints, and within 3 hours of his
surgery he was bouncing on a core ball and watching Kung Fu Panda. As bad as I
wanted to stay with him of course he wanted his momma. I suppose it is pretty normal, Daddy drops
the discipline hammer at home and momma cleans up with hugs and kisses. So if you are bleeding and need attention,
you run to daddy (former EMT if you are getting here late); if you need
soothing…well momma has a special rocking chair just for such occasions. The point is, I was never worried about his
surgery. He’s a tough kid, the doctors
were awesome, and I knew it was a quick temporary thing. I am thankful my kids are so healthy but
realize and will have to tell them someday they’ll have to get screened early
because they have my genes. I am praying
my situation was a fluke mutation and not a genetic hand-me-down. Not a very good gift.
Wednesday, results day.
But first another Aggie from my Aggie Yell group is meeting me for
breakfast. He is also an MDA visitor and
I supposed we’d talk about our cancers and joke about our experiences. We met at a joint called the Breakfast
Klub. If you haven’t been to this
restaurant in Houston you must go! It is
awesome, soul-food/comfort food, but worth the trip if you are downtown. Phil
was a great family guy, good Ag, and we did in fact joke about our cancers and
treatments and the behemoth that is MDA.
We also talked about our support networks, the importance of attitude,
and we talked about the end game a bit.
He’s a good dude and will be in my prayers, he even snagged a few
wristbands. He also reminded me that I need
to articulate how awesome my family is.
They are fighting right along with me and even though they aren’t
“feeling” the effects, they are in the middle of it for sure. I get a lot of the attention, but my wife and
kids are sweating out every treatment, infusion, lab test, and therapy along
with me. And bless their hearts they are
helpless to do anything more than watch and love me, which they do in
droves. So thank you Nita, Connor, and
Josie! And thank you to all those near and
far who check up on me, drop by, bring food, provide lodging, cookbooks, send treats,
contribute, and pray for me. And thanks to the Houston family for all the love and support and the delicious dinner at Patrenellas (Nita's uncle and cousins) Wednesday night.
Enough suspense, the tumors are shrinking! They are shrinking in both size and
density! My bloodwork also showed a
decline in tumor markers (as illustrated by the graph in last week’s blog) which
is good. There was one lone-wolf lymph
node tumor that grew, but by a very small margin. There was also some thickening in the colon,
but not uncommon with the surgery, Imodium, diet change, and probably that damn
pie/cake. It’s something to be aware of,
but not freak out about…right Thiru? Before anyone starts hiring mariachis and
signing me up to partner in that 2025 four man scramble…this is a lifelong
battle. Remember, also from last week’s
blog post, there may be a ping pong effect of good results, possibly even
remission, but the tumors will more than likely come back…and we’ll fight them
again. I don’t mean to dilute the great
news, but I also don’t want those closest to me to create unrealistic
expectations. The good news is I have
plenty of logs on my fire.
Back to the good news. There are two more approved drug
protocols! From just the three months I
last visited MDA, there were two more new drugs that were approved and have
shown efficacy for my cancer. That means
if my current cocktail loses momentum, and the FulFox doesn’t work or loses
steam, there are two more options I can take before clinical trials (which
insurance may or may not support). This is great, because it also means there
are advancements being made. Like my
friends Dr. Shaw and surgeon Dr. Lakshman said, “Stay in the ring, fight until
the next advancement is made/approved.”
One round has already been made, so my job is to stay above room
temperature until the next set are released.
Let’s enjoy our victories when they come, but not set ourselves up for
crushing defeats. But in the meantime
how does one celebrate news like this?
Why you go pick up your son from school early, take him to the airport
where your buddy Bart keeps his plane.
Then you fly to Lockhart for a BBQ lunch! Right?!
And what the hell, hire the mariachis! Not really mom, just a metaphor
(mom loves mariachis, but that is a story for another time). TeamMarco@austin.rr.com
Praise God!!! I love your bonfire imaginary!!! Praying. <3
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