A Year of Thanks

A year of thanks

This Friday will be the 52^nd episode documenting my journey living with cancer.  It has had many ups and many downs.  I relived a lot of them on 8/28, the anniversary of my diagnosis, when the memories came rushing in.  I lived some of my friend’s emotional roller coaster rides when they called and shared their remembrances of the days and hours immediately surrounding my diagnosis/surgery and how the next few days would change everything. 

I think it is kind of funny and somewhat indicative of how little I appreciated the severity of my situation at the time in that my goal (and I was very vocal about it) for leaving the hospital was to get home in time to watch the A&M vs. Arizona State opener in college football.  If you go back to the very first one (and potentially the title of a book) I had to prove my colon was working after the traumatic surgery.  The proof was that I had to fart and I had to poop.  I was able to adequately deliver on both and make it home with 3 hours until kickoff. A few guys from the neighborhood and some friends came over to make me feel like it was a normal game day.  I nursed one bourbon and cheated with some brisket that Hal brought.  I was supposed to be on a low residue diet for the first month back and, well, how can you not eat bad ass BBQ on game day?

Suffice to say, even though I wanted things to appear normal they certainly weren’t; and would never be again.  As the reality of my situation slowly sank in and I adjusted to it, the changes came flowing...more like flooding.  Everything from trips to MD Anderson, where I feel like I could be a tour guide now, my port-o-catheter surgery, and of course chemotherapy would become the new normal.  But I was a pretty tough guy physically, spiritually, and mentally and I would grind through it.  Emotionally, I did my best, but hey man, only one perfect man ever walked this earth and I certainly am not he…but I pray to Him every day.

Almost 20 years ago my wife’s father died of pancreatic cancer.  Afterwards she went to see a counselor to help her sort out the torrent of thoughts and emotions.  After we got married, when we’d have those moments that all couples have, she recommended going to see a counselor.  At first I thought, “What?  Those are for nut jobs who aren’t strong enough to deal with reality.”  I have probably never been more wrong about anything…ever.  Over the years we’ve gone back when things got choppy (like in all good marriages whether we admit it or not), we’ve been back several times both together and solo when needed. 

A couple of days before we committed to launch the dinner and golf event, I found myself sinking.  I was having some thoughts that could be considered bordering on depression and I wondered if I went much deeper, could I pull myself out.  I was very concerned about my chemotherapy options running out and frankly what might be left for me.  You folks mostly saw my game face.  So I scheduled an appointment with him.

The event committee we put together is filled with rock stars in so many varied fields.  Once I started working with these folks and doing our Sunday meetings, my spirits lifted immediately.  I had purpose and drive, and a way to help both my family and the community.  I selfishly basked in the love from this group too.  The enthusiasm and support from this group of high end leaders and their willingness to sacrifice time for the cause was amazing.  You could feel it in the room.  Thanks to all the participants and volunteers.  This will be an amazing event and will launch a philanthropy that will help others with terminal illness in their families (stay tuned for more on that in the coming months).

When I sat down in the therapist’s office I was already feeling somewhat better.  He told me to remind him of all the events since our last visit, October, 2015. So as I went through them again, I was able to find those points where I was low, where I was humbled, where I felt alone, where I felt cheated, where I was lifted up, and where I was surrounded by love and support.  As I may have mentioned, he too battled colon cancer, albeit not stage 4.  But while he was in the hospital a nurse with a very holistic and homeopathic view of things dropped a bomb on him.  She said, “You know diseases attack various parts of the body which we leave open to them.  For example, fear and judgment affect the spirit level of the colon, back pain, prostate cancer, colitis, and crohn’s, etc.  Guilt feeds depression, infertility, spleen issues, and eczema.  Shame leads to ulcers, diabetes, gall bladder issues, and on and on.  But your colon cancer tells me you are a judgmental person.”

He about jumped out of his hospital bed.  He said it was a combination of enlightenment and offense and wasn’t quite sure which was stronger.  He stopped talking and stared at me.  We locked eyes and were quiet for about 15 uncomfortable seconds.  Now as a sales guy, I know this game.  First to speak loses.  But I wasn’t leading a sales presentation, I was up against a professional head shrinker.  So in the interest of time I caved.  I blurted, “I’m a judgmental person.  To a fault!”  In fact, I kind of wore it as a badge of honor.  I could size people up quickly, analyze situations and make decisions with less data than others.  I knew who I could trust and not trust, and most importantly I was the best driver on the road surrounded by idiots (even Connor and Josie started getting in on the act, so I have since (mostly) backed off my name calling and unsolicited driving tips).

He said, “When you think about it, the colon, intestines, and everything in there, deals with shit.  They take ingested materials and ‘decide’ (he made air quotes) what is good and what is not and quickly and efficiently get rid of the waste.  Isn’t that what highly judgmental people do?  Well it kind of makes of sense don’t you think?  Further, could a less judgmental Marco actually help my chemotherapy?  Was my constant judging of others and worry about the growth of my kids after I was gone, hurting my own healing?  Could I actually extend my own life by being a less judgmental dick?  Talk about a good session.

I also have two admissions to make.  In my year of finding the better Marco to friends and my children, I was not the best husband.  That will hopefully change now.  The reason, and second admission, I was judging Nita on her ability to be me when I was gone.  Now in truth, If Nita judged me with the same lens, I would fail.  MISERABLY.  So there is that.  But over the last week, I’ve been a kinder and gentler Marco.  The last thing my therapist said was that everyone can contribute to the development of children and adults alike.  It isn’t just the ones who push you.  Even though people like me remember those great teachers and coaches who got the most out of us, there are armies of people who did nothing more than live their lives but somehow still made an impression on us.

His contention was everyone contributes to your growth if you are open to it and pay attention.  His shocking example was that even Judas gave us things to think about, both positive and negative.  He said if you can receive the world with “unconditional, positive, warmth and acceptance;” your growth would be exponential.  Now, I am open to trying to be more positive, but unconditional?  How can you be a college football fan or any sports fan and be unconditionally positive and warm?  It just can’t happen.  But maybe I can help the kids in the next year understand that we all have value, and we can learn from anyone.  Like Ratatouille, “anyone can cook.”

Saturday, the kids wanted to do different things, so we split up into reds and browns and headed off to entertain them.  It had been so long since I was on the regular chemo schedule I’m glad I remembered that the Saturday and Sunday before the next round is about as good as I’m going to feel.  So we took them to a 9am golf clinic, breakfast at Jims with my mom, then Josie and I went to the mall and kiddie acres.  After golf and breakfast, Nita took Connor to the Museum at Camp Mabry and they had lunch with her mother. That night we had fun family movie night.

Monday was chemo day and yes I felt crappy, but what can you expect, FolFox really is considered the “big guns.”  The neuropathy took over quickly. I washed my hands before the water got warm and it felt like little needles on my fingertips.  Remember when you were a kid and you’d put your tongue on the terminals of a 9-volt battery to see if it had any juice?  Then you did it again to make sure? It was like that, so I stuck my hand under the water again to make sure it wasn’t psychosomatic. BUT, I felt better than I did the last chemo day.  Don’t get me wrong, I still had all the side effect greatest hits, but it somehow didn’t feel as bad…on Monday.  I was also more informed.  I overheard a nurse explaining FolFox to a new patient and telling her, “Don’t drink any iced beverages for five days.  It will feel like you swallowed bees and they are stinging your throat.” Bees! Your weapons are useless against them, save yourselves! – Tommy Boy.

Monday, chemo day, 1 year and 1 day since diagnosis.  Photo by my lovely wife Nita

By the way, my throat is feeling better and more open.  My cough is less persistent and there is no fever.  So why did I feel slightly better off than last time?  It could be that two weeks ago I was coming off of five weeks without any chemo and my body wasn’t acclimated to the deluge of poison anymore.  Or it could have been my new judgment free (mostly), kinder, gentler Marco.  Who knows?  But Nita said I was more pleasant to be around and that is what matters. 

Tuesday and Wednesday the neuropathy was setting in a bit more.  I went to my upstairs office to work and my fingers were tingling.  I don’t know if it may have been me pushing harder on the keyboard until I felt something or just getting the kinks out of the morning.  By around 9am they were feeling better, not normal, but better.  Internally, however, would the battle for comfort would rage.  It is so hard when there is so much going on inside your body and mouth to try to find a state of, well not quite comfort but less crappy.  Add in the anti-biotic and the chilled probiotic (bees) and you don’t exactly know which side effect is from what.  But it was slightly better if you can believe it.  How much of that was my getting used to it I don’t know. 

I was talking to my best friend Monday and we were joking about good days and bad days.  Good days are basically non-bad days.  I’m not sure I’ve felt great in a year…physically.  But I am told that I still look good, so I think that is a gift from God.  Not in a Fernando Llamas sort of way (You look Mahvelous), but the fact that my children get to see a healthy looking father doing stuff with them, not an emaciated old man wasting away before their eyes.  For this, I am more grateful than I can put into words.

My CEA score was 24.2, down from 40!  After one treatment.  They did my bloodwork prior to the second infusion, so all we have is one data point, not a trend...but it is a pretty exciting data point.  A second indicator was the number of hugs and high fives I received at Texas Oncology on Wednesday when my score was shared.  Third and actually great news is that MD Anderson has opened a clinical trial for my type of cancer.  So if the FolFox doesn’t continue to help (or kill) me, there is another very viable option on the board.  The downside is because it is a trial they will want every single detail measured and timed for their research.  So it is almost 99.9% chance that it will all have to be done in Houston.  However, that .1% is if we could somehow convince MDA that we could follow the protocol to the tee, cash in a few favors, get a prayer or two answered, and then just maybe I could do the trial here in Austin.  But no matter what, my runway just got a bit longer and that is fantastic news.

We’re having satellite issues at home so I popped in the Miracle DVD (the story of the 1980 USA hockey team) last night.  Also for dinner, Josie was telling a story about a girl named Callie. So of course I queued up “Going back to Cali” and she asked me to dance.  We jitterbugged and as we dipped and twirled, she asked me if I would dance with her when she got married.  I told her I would sure try.  A year ago, my friend Dr. Shaw told me to not get punched out.  Just stay in the ring until they find something.  So with the FolFox showing some efficacy, and a clinical trial as an option…who knows.  Maybe that is the secret.  Just keep fighting, stay in the ring and wait for the miracle.

This is why we play sports isn’t it?  The winning, the losing, the ups and downs.  In preparation for the game, we work and fight through exhaustion and learn how to fail.  We learn how to win graciously and we learn how to depend on our teammates. But above all, we learn not to give up.  We also learn that victories stacked in neat little piles do not make us immune to defeat.  This year has tested all my years of going through victories and losses.  It makes me wonder if God hadn’t put all those tests in front of me over the last 40 years to prepare me for this one big exam. 

So I feel like scrooge after his third visit with the ghosts.  A new beginning of sorts which dovetails nicely with the new school year, a new football season, and holidays aplenty coming up.  Even though the fall is when things in nature start to go dormant, I see newness and fresh starts.  There is so much left to do and I plan on doing a lot of it.  I’m going to the A&M v UCLA game this weekend (thanks Tony and Dennis).  Josie is going to start gymnastics and Connor will probably start wrestling this fall as well as get started on his first communion classes. 

Right now in this moment I feel very much alive and part of the world, and I intend to stay part of it for as long as I can.  So I will embrace the joy, try not to judge (as much), and give that “unconditional positive acceptance” a shot.  Who knows? It just might work, one never knows from what angle that miracle will come.  (Funny thought, I could have misspelled “angle/angel” and the sentence would have still worked).  So wrapping up a full year of blogs, here is my message and hopefully mission for the next year: Go out and be awesome; live and enjoy life; savor the details; be thankful for your time here; and tell your friends and family you love them.  Be part of the world. God bless.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com