Past the due date

Past the due date

Even with no chemo the week has presented some challenges.  This weekend was pretty easy, but I was still recovering from the splenic embolism surgery.  A funny thing about relativity is the pain was still there, but it wasn’t constant and it wasn’t intolerable.  So it almost felt like it didn’t hurt…compared to the excruciating weekend prior.  Connor entered the Cub Scout pinewood derby event and his army tank took two seconds and a third in his heats.  He ended up winning an award for most creative entry in his pack, but there was a lot of chatter in the auditorium about his “cool tank.” He was very proud of it. 

Later that night our club had it’s annual beer pong championship throw down.  Our folks go all out with uniforms, smack talk, and some pretty gaudy trophies. It was fantastic.  Nita stayed for the duration while I just kind of buzzed the crowd and eventually left early.  I’ve learned that my smell sensitivity triggers my gag reflex pretty easily and it sets me off into a fit that only anti-nausea meds can tackle. I just can't be around smoke anymore.

Baseball would come ringing in with a bang this week.  Josephine had a practice on Monday and I couldn’t help myself.  Even though I felt a bit miserable I still got in there and helped with hitting, fielding, and throwing.  This is tee-ball and would be the only practice before our first game on Saturday.  Several of these kids have never thrown or attempted to catch a ball before.  AAAAAAAND we have a game on Saturday.  Tuesday Connor had a coach pitch practice. I’m the official, unofficial pitcher for our team and we also had a game the following day.  I helped out with the practice and pitched the entire scrimmage over the last half of practice.

Wednesday was our first game, just in time for a cold front to come in.  Luckily our team did great, I pitched okay, and we were able to pull off a win with two outs in the bottom of the last inning.  We really do have a good bunch of kids and parents on this team and I’m looking forward to the season.  As far as my body…I was wiped.  Luckily each day my mother would come and rub down my calves and arms.  Bless her heart, it sure helped.  But I am learning that all this over the last couple of years has really taken a toll on my body.  My recovery times are really slow and I was looking forward to napping during the two days before our next two games (Saturday).  I’ll either learn to pace myself, accidentally get in better shape, or die doing my best.  Personally, I’m rooting for two.

I had the opportunity to visit a few friends in the hospital or recovering at home this week.  There is too much cancer floating around and that’s all I’m going to say about that.  I enjoyed helping and visiting, but as mentioned before, I wish there were fewer people who needed my help.  I am glad I’ve handled my illness the way I have and have become so well versed in dealing with cancer that I’ve become a go-to guy for questions; but at the same time, I really wish there were fewer people (especially friends) who needed guidance.  But it is also funny to have introduced into common vernacular…, “So, have you farted or pooped yet after your surgery?”  What was once considered a silly question is now pretty common in our little group.  I learned later that one of the guys I went to visit had kidney cancer but they got all of it during his operation…so no chemo and no radiation.  Great for the Lobo!

Josephine dresses for her 100th day of school (as a 100 year old).

On Wednesday, before I went to get my ashes for Lent, I stopped into a store to get some last-minute baseball stuff.  A very sweet woman asked if I was me (my name) and then asked if she could give me a hug.  She said that my blog has helped her overcome some personal issues she’d been dealing with.  It gave her the strength she needed to make a pretty big decision in her life and she was grateful.   It really helps validate the mission when things like this occur.  Another woman talked about my blog when I took Connor to get a haircut on Thursday.  It truly is amazing the reach this has had.  I’m humbled.

Visiting my friends after their surgeries had me reflecting again on all the milestones and purpose of my journey.  I don’t mean purpose like, “Why did this happen to me.”  I mean it like, “What else should I be doing with this gift of life?”  Tuesday was exactly 1 ½ years since my diagnosis.  As some of you long time readers may remember, I was told that just 5 years ago, I would have been given six months.  I don’t know if it is the prayer, anointing, homeopathic remedies, chemo, faith, or my main theory (more later) that has kept me around, but I’m glad to be around.  As sore as I am after three straight baseball nights, I’m glad to be here and even though I’m feeling like a crumpled-up coke can.

My main theory is that God has a plan for me and I’ve accepted the challenge. My job is to endure the cancer, the pains, aches, side effects, etc.  And I have to continue sharing my story to help as many people as possible.  My reward is time with my wife and kids.  I also get time with my amazing neighbors and friends.  It may not seem like much of a deal for you, but I think it is just fine.  I can tell you that after going through that first weekend after the splenic embo, that I have a higher confidence that there might not be much I can’t get through.  That was some really painful stuff. (I hope I didn't jinx myself there).

Even though I haven’t had chemo in a bit over a month I am still feeling residual effects.  The neuropathy is getting mildly better, but my fingertips and feet are still pretty numb.  You know how when you sleep on your arm funny, and then you wake up, and two or three of your fingers are completely numb until the blood gets back into them?  It’s kind of like that, but all the time, every day (but just the tips).  The upside is the cold sensitivity has mostly gone away.  I can drink iced water and grab things out of the fridge and freezer.  The downside is it is harder for me to do simple things.  Like loosen a double knot on my kid’s shoe.  I can see the knot, I can grab it, but I can’t tell the pressure I’m exerting on the lace exactly, if that makes sense.

My appetite has taken a beating.  Not much sounds or tastes good right now and even when I do eat, I cannot eat very much.  This has been since the surgery, I’m not alarmed yet, but I’ve lost 15 pounds so far.  I may have to start drinking some ensure shakes again.  In any case, I’m hanging in there and I have no complaints.  It reminds me of the axiom, “eat to live, don’t live to eat.”  So, I eat what I can and what I need to keep my energy level up.  I’m having to choose a pretty boring diet, and if I deviate from it, it upsets my stomach.  I’ve already had to defend whether or not I “liked the meal” on several occasions.

I followed up with the MDA folks on my tissue samples and they’ve requested the sample be sent to the sponsor.  So I’m not sure how much more time it’s going to take before the trials start, but I can wait, I guess I have to.  It’ll happen soon enough.  Until then, I’m doing my homeopathic things and my quantum touch sessions.  Also in mid-March, I get to have dinner with Tim Kennedy.  A friend purchased the dinner at my auction and invited Nita and me to join him and his wife.   That should be exciting.  Although I’m not looking forward to eating a six-year old’s portion of food in front of a man’s man.  But if he talks smack, I’ll take it.  Of course I’m going to take it, it’s Tim Kennedy!

What does this tell me?  That I’m alive.  I get another day/week/month with my beautiful family.  That I still have the ability to run around with these kids and share special moments with them.  My only regret is that it took this event in my life to really teach me the important things in life.  Sure, I’d had them told to me countless times, but bull-headed Marco didn’t get the hint.  Well, I have it now and we’re making the most of it. 

So, all the aches and pains, ice and rub downs, dry heaves, headaches, every bit of it is worth it.  I get to play a game that my children love, that I love, and do it at a pretty decent level.  I am not wasting away (yet) and I still get to make athletic moves and teach the kids, on both teams, good fundamental baseball.  And no matter how much I hurt, I get to continually teach the children that Martinez’ never give up, we keep trying, keep fighting, and keep going.  We don’t always win, but we certainly don’t give up.  What better lesson can you teach your kids?  Team Marco.