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.