What would you do for a Klondike bar

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

So first thing’s first.  The whole family has the flu.  Everyone but me tested positive.  How does that happen?  I’ve tried to be careful and all, but I still got the symptoms and eventually did develop a fever, chills, and achiness. My poor family was down for the count.  Josie is about done with it, Connor is about 1/3 into it, and Nita is about 2/3 of the way in.  We are all properly medicated now, so that should help.  I hope I feel better in time for chemo on Monday.  That is actually serious.  I have to go to MDA as well for testing regarding the CEA spike and our vacation schedule is somewhat dependent on the timing of this round.  One more time to gut up and just plow through I guess.  By the way, when I told the primary care doctor about my CEA spike he winced.  That somewhat validates some thoughts I’ve been having lately, but I need to push though.



My poor ginger with fever cheeks

 

I have gotten feedback that I should convert my blog into a book.  After the flattery wears off, I’m left with a very consistent thought: How does it end?  Most of the time when you write a book, I’m assuming that you write your outline with a clear understanding of the plot, any twists and turns, maybe an Easter egg or two and then your reveal.  Ta dah!

My problem, if you can call it that, is the ending.  If I do publish I hope it isn't posthumous.  Advice I’ve received includes writing it how I want it to end.  But that somehow seems insincere and somewhat fictional.  Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind using embellishment to turn a good tale into a great tale.  But this seems bigger now, and I really want to stay true all the way through. So I started consolidating the blogs into one long document.  I also started cleaning up some of the early grammatical mistakes and word usage issues.  And of course this included reliving some of them again.  There were definitely a few good days and bad days.

One blog from January was about getting ill and spiking a fever after New Year’s Eve (I don’t know if this was coincidence, irony, or foreshadowing).  The next blog post was about some of the holistic and homeopathic options that were being sent to me.  My philosophy at the time was, anything to buy one more day with my family.  And I could be somewhat arrogant about it because my chemo protocol was working.  Very much an “easy for you to say” type of thing.  So here we are, the chemo is not working with the same efficacy as before.  I still have some options of course and there is the scan next week, but I really started thinking.  Would I do anything for another day? 



Lunch with some old high school buddies at Blacks BBQ

Last month Nita and I met with our financial advisor.  It was both a routine look at our retirement plan, but also an opportunity for me to outline milestones for Nita and the kids.  We’ve already started depleting our savings a bit because, well, chemo is expensive.  I have a life insurance policy that thank God we purchased well before I got sick with anything, and now obviously no insurance company would even consider a new policy.  So here is the rub.  Would I do anything to get better?  Physically yes.  Sting me with wasp venom, put grass in my butt, and change my diet.  I won’t like it, but these things I would be willing to tolerate.  Would I deplete all of the funds I’ve spent 20+ years accumulating for my family just to buy another week, year, month?  That somehow seems awfully irresponsible.

So I know I’ve driven a divide in the audience right now. This is not easy to write and probably not easy to read.

The warrior class completely understands what I am saying and why I am saying it.  It is why we have veterans walking around with prosthetic limbs and folded flags on mantles.  The nurturer and possibly the caregiver want to exhaust all resources before letting go.  That is perfectly understandable.  These lovely people constantly yearn for lost loved ones and go on about doing anything for “one more day” with a passed loved one.  I too would love for my dad to sit in the stands at one of Connor or Josie’s baseball games. That is fine, I’m not going to argue merits of anyone’s philosophy nor go through all 16 basic personality types and how they might react.  Suffice to say, that there are a lot of different viewpoints and all, okay most, are valid.  That isn’t the point of this exercise.

My best friend really took my initial diagnosis and prognosis very hard.  He was prepared by another friend for the potentiality of them opening me up on that day back in August, seeing what they were up against, and closing with no chance to help.  That was obviously on the table as an option.  Thankfully it was not the result.  So we have gotten to this point.  I have potentially exhausted one Western option and there are three more protocols that could work for me.  The discussion point is around clinical trials.  If we get to this final step, would I be willing to go to/move to Houston to do this each week?  It depends. If my insurance covered them (although you would not believe our out of pocket medical totals for last year), and I was still gainfully employed, sure. I’d give it a go.  If it was an option that was to be self-funded where we took out a second mortgage and liquidated 401Ks and IRAs?  I doubt it.  I’d be more inclined to let my friend host a golf tournament and try the 2 week Costa Rican sweat shop, starvation, wasp venom, brain potion with asparagus and wheat grass as a last ditch effort. 

I also get that this might be coming across as extremely materialistic and embracing “worldly things.”  It isn’t.  I’m not making these decisions so my kids can each drive a Lexus to high school.  This is about keeping them in a good neighborhood with good schools and having the ability to make ends meet.  My father had to quit school and join the military.  As noble a profession as that is, I would prefer that Connor and Josie go to college and if they still want to serve, then go serve as a choice not a necessity.  I also don’t want them to quit school in order to get jobs simply to help put food on the table. 

The downside of course is the emotional toll on those left behind.  A couple of days ago my mother said to me, “Mijo, I pray every night for you.  ' God, you know my husband died in my arms.  My brother died in my arms.  Please God, don’t let my son die in my arms.'”  I honestly didn’t know how to react to that statement other than to just give her a big hug.

Let me put this another way.  I had horrible nightmare the other day where my son had his arms blown off and was essentially bleeding out. He was scared and crying and my thoughts were do I put tourniquets on his arms and try to stop the bleeding knowing there was not enough time to be effective, or do I just hold him and tell him that I love him for his last five minutes?   I mercifully woke up in tears before I had to make the decision.

So what do you do?  If it was a stranger, you probably reassure the victim and work as quickly as you can to stop the bleeding.  You do your best and hope EMS shows up in time.  But what if it was Connor?  Do you want your last moment together working on the wound or guiding them into the light with thoughts of love?  What about Connor’s perspective?  Do you want to watch someone diligently working on your body to prolong the inevitable? Or do you want comfort and reassurance that there is a heaven in those last minutes? What is best for you?  What is best for him? I wish I knew the answer.  As you can see, this has been weighing somewhat heavily on me lately. Fr. Bill, if you are reading, you might expect a call this week.

I wrote most of this earlier this week while suffering with some flu-brain.   You know when you are just not quite at your sharpest.  It showed some negativity and a modicum of doubt.  Again, a few signs of human weakness.  Be assured that my faith and mind are still strong and I will push on.  I will not ring out.

Feeling just well enough to catch the first part of my buddy's show Thursday night

So here we are.  I am still hoping and praying for the best and positive outcomes, but I have to look forward and see how this dynamic might change things like down the road.  Like any business strategy, how to I position my family for success in the future?  It certainly isn’t by removing all their resources. Then again, I suppose I’m one of the resources.  I’m no martyr and I certainly don’t want to die.  After going to see my friend perform last night, I also realized there are still a lot of things left to do and lessons to both learn and teach.  There are a lot of experiences I still want to have with my family.  I also know my kids need me and I need them.  So of course I will push on.  If down the road it means downsizing the house, selling a car, making a few other choices…maybe it is worth it if the outcome balances out.  I can only continue to pray and believe that God will not only take me on the journey I’m supposed to travel, but also give me the wisdom to know what to do when I get there.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com