Fuck Cancer

Monday, October 27, 7 AM

I hope you never get to the point in life where that something bothers you so much that you want to give up. Giving up isn’t an option and only makes matters worse. I woke up imagining what my last three years would’ve been like if I had. I’d would’ve most likely been dead of heart disease.

Am I afraid of death? No. Got over the fear of that with my first ICD in ’05. But being diagnosed with cancer brought on a whole new troublesome set of issues. Like I’ve said before, it’s a mind game and trust me when I say it gets old after a while.

Christmas Ornaments

Because of the mental anguish I was going through back in ’23, when first diagnosed with the disease, I turned to friends. I interviewed some here and even went as far as asking them to choose Christmas Tree Ornaments for me. And they agreed. As the years have gone by, I have continued the tradition.

From the race car with my name on it from Tammy to the bell from Loren to ring in the New Year of ’24 I remember them all and who gifted each. However, the most poignant, down-to-Earth ornament came this year.

Sara, whom I’ve been friends with for a number of years, was the first to choose one so obvious that it still has me smiling. Anyone with cancer or knowing someone that has or had it, has said it. Hell, I even said it not even knowing anyone with it. Then said it even more when I heard an aunt and uncle were both diagnosed with it. My uncle would eventually pass away because of it. Now I have it and write about it in hopes of helping others beat it.

I really didn’t expect Sara’s selection. Mainly because of the language it contains. She’s not the type to cuss. But after that split second of shock, I recalled her telling me of her father’s battle with the disease. The language may not have been hers; however, the meaning was subtle as can be. FUCK CANCER.

Thank you, Sara. And as you and others can now see, my tree is up and the ornaments everyone has chosen for this year are being added.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow’s the day I’ve anxiously been awaiting. My return to oncology a full month after the latest biopsy that confirmed cancer is still present within me. There were a lot of ‘Fuck Cancer’ moments over the wait. But I’ve made it.

However, today, I’ll be heading to The Henry Ford Museum to view a display of Leonardo da Vinci‘s work. I’m looking forward to the event and the opportunity to get out and take my minds focus off of everything else.

5 PM

Visiting the museum was the perfect solution for time wasting and a great way to not think of cancer. The display the museum is putting on is simply fantastic. I never realized his scientific prowess was so extent. He was truly a Renaissance Man. More to come in a future blog.

Tuesday, October 28, 4:44 AM

Finally see the oncologist this morning. It’s been a long wait. So long I’m afraid he’ll want to start some new tests even before treatment. And yes, you read the time right. It was 4:44 AM when I woke.

Seriously, I’m tired of being tired. And the dreams don’t help either. In the one last night, I saw so much sadness and grief on her face, it still hurts me. It equaled only mine from someone I lost. Not to death but heartbreak. In the dream, I said what was on my mind. Then simply asked ‘why,’ with no reply. The sadness worsened on her even more. That’s what woke me and immediately I began humming this song out of the blue.

So much of Don McLean’s ‘American Pie‘ hits home in some way, shape or form to everyone. For me I’m looking for that Angel to break Satan’s spell. But it’s Halloween and I should’ve expected a restless night. Plus, the dreams have been more problematic the night before something major is about to occur. And this appointment is major.

Life Lesson

While riding home on the bus yesterday from the museum, the driver and I were talking. Our conversation shifted from da Vinci to who I was rooting for in this year’s World Series.

I told him the Toronto Blue Jays as I’ve had enough of the big market teams like the Los Angeles Dodgers. Then he asked me who my all-time favorite Detroit Tiger was.

I didn’t respond with the customary Ty Cobb or Miguel Cabrera. The name to automatically come out of my mouth was Gates Brown.

Brown played for the Tigers from 1963-75 and was one of the most prolific pinch hitters in the game. After his retirement, I met him at a high school faculty vs Detroit Tigers charity basketball game.

We talked for only a few minutes but something he said, in parting, has stuck with me ever since. It went something like this, ‘Son, you’re going to mess up somewhere in life. Admit to it and make amends. Always remember to try and do what’s right.‘

A mere story as I wonder why people just can’t do what’s right.

Oncologist Office

Walked out of the oncologist appointment more than a bit dismayed. So much so I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I need to get a pet dragon and train it to do my talking for me.

A few flames under some asses may be just what the ‘doctor ordered,’

Apparently, urologist never contacted oncologist informing him of the Cystoscopy (bladder scope) and its results. As he was unaware of the drilling down my urethra until I informed him. Later, basically saying the same thing my primary had said. It was unnecessary unless blood was visible in my urine. Which was not.

Nor was he aware that I am NOT on hormonal therapy. This knowledge came to him after he told me to continue it, and I said I wasn’t on it.

He, also, mentioned that the cancer was in, geographically, the same location as it was in the beginning. But was hesitant to go any deeper in detail. This he said was due to the false positive readings a biopsy within the first two years (post radiation) can give.

His concerns shifted to the possibility that the cancer may have moved to Lymph Nodes. With that another PET Scan was ordered.

We then talked of possible options if it had. Those would be Cryotherapy (freezing), more radiation, hormonal therapy and even surgery.

Hormonal therapy was ordered but has to clear the ‘Tumor Board‘ which meets the 10th of November. I was also given a script for another PSA to be done before my next urology appointment in a week.

Scheduling my next appointment with him (oncologist)sounded easy as he told me to return after the PET Scan. But when checking out, the receptionist said she couldn’t schedule it until the PET was completed. I told her, in no short terms, there was no way in the hell I was going to wait that long.

I had already waited a month for this appointment. I was not going to wait another four to six weeks after the test to see him again.

Apparently, my rudeness won out. She called the oncology desk and was told to make it beforehand as they, too, agreed the wait would be detrimental to treatment. Coincidentally, the board overseeing the hormonal therapy decision will have already met and I’ll have another option on the table after the PET’s results are reviewed before the appointment.

These have been my last two days in a nutshell. One that hasn’t cracked nor will it, as giving up is not an option to me.

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