Saturday 13 September 2014

Cancer, ugh!: Scared? More so than any other time in my life!

Cancer, ugh!: Scared? More so than any other time in my life!: Emotions are usually pretty standard. You win a poker hand and you're happy. You lose a job, you're sad. Someone punches you in the ...

Scared? More so than any other time in my life!

Emotions are usually pretty standard. You win a poker hand and you're happy. You lose a job, you're sad. Someone punches you in the nuts and you're filled with anger. The same person punches your friend in the groin and you're giddy with joy. However, every now and then you get some news and you realize you don't have an emotion ready and that's what I learned a few weeks ago. I had been waiting for months to have surgery on my formerly 'inoperable' cancer when I got a call telling me it's a go for September 15th. I thought I would feel happy but the first thought is fear followed by sadness, happiness and shock. I wasn't ready to get the concrete date for a surgery that will last 5-6 hours, likely require blood transfusions and require cutting stuff out, stitching things back together and the uncertainty of what they'll see when they slice me open. I'm not a fan of the unknown because we lose control and anyone who has met me knows I'm a little bit of a control freak. 

I'm roughly 34 hours from surgery and despite my best efforts I'm unable to keep my mind occupied with anything but what I face on Monday morning. The surgeon is confident surgery will be successful and he should be able to remove most, if not all, of the cancer from my body. I probably should feel excited but the unknown is a scary thing. The prospect of being able to say "I'm cancer free" would be a dream, even if it's only for a day, a week or a month. Unfortunately, I remain focused on what happens if he opens me up and he has one of those, "holy crap, I didn't expect to see that" moments. Monday morning at 6am is far off and doesn't feel real just yet but knowing at 8am they'll knock me out (I'm hoping for Propofol the same stuff that killed Michael Jackson. That stuff is the bomb!) and I can sleep for the six hours or so the surgery will take. You see I haven't slept more than 2-3 straight hours, save for one day, in almost ten months and I feel worn down beyond anything I've ever felt. The feeling I might get the restful, drug induced sleep of Propofol is the one thing I'm looking forward to.

Cancer wears you down for many reasons. One is the stress of wondering will I beat it and if I don't when will it kill me. Unknown. Another are the treatments. If you ever meet someone going through chemo, try and take a second to lift their spirits. Tell them a joke. Chat about a mundane topic and get their mind off the disease. A story of someone beating cancer. Worst case scenario, just punch their friend in the nuts. It always works! 

Finally, the seemingly endless number of appointments starts to drag you down. I've only had cancer for about ten months but I've lost count of the number of people I've seen, tests run, lab visits and hours spent sitting in a waiting room at Juravinski Cancer Centre. All the tests coupled with the chemo have left me with veins in my arms that are almost impossible to draw blood from. Nobody told me about the crappy side of chemo where your veins seems to disappear and they have to draw blood from the top of your hand. All I heard was good bye back hair followed by blah, blah, blah.

Monday morning, I will leave my home at 5am and check in at 6am for my surgery at 8 o'clock. What scares me is this unknown. I'll wake up around 2 or 3 while struggling to figure out where I am and when I finally get my bearings I'll wait for Dr. Pinthus to tell me if I'll get a good night's sleep on Monday or if it's back to chemo, drugs and the introduction of radiation. I feel tired right now and wishing I could stop this shitty ride but when I look back on the last year I see how many times I've felt like this and how many times the feeling has passed and something great has happened. There have been a lot of hard days but they've always been followed by something that lifted my spirits. Monday will suck knowing it's going to take me 2 months or so before I'm back to normal but I've got an amazing wife that kicks my ass every time I want to sulk, a daughter who amazes me every moment of the day, a team that is going to do something special this year, a job I like and so many friends and colleagues that lift me up everyday! You all might think a couple of sentences in a message doesn't mean much but often it's those words that bring a smile to my face or make me laugh out loud.

One thing I've learned through this whole experience has been it feels awfully good to tell someone how much you appreciate them, a good memory, or just something to make them feel good. It'll make them feel good and you'll get the same fuzzy feeling. Getting through this battle has been made bearable because so many people have done just that for me. Thanks for that!

"When you feel like quitting, think about why you started." Unknown


#shitkickcancer


The picture is from a surprise dinner last Tuesday. While at dinner, parents organized drivers and the players offered to help babysit. 

Monday 28 July 2014

Cancer, ugh!: First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!

Cancer, ugh!: First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!: Dr. Z: If you had to pick a cancer out of a hat then you'd want to get your cancer. Me: That sounds like a really crappy hat. Just anoth...

First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!


Dr. Z: If you had to pick a cancer out of a hat then you'd want to get your cancer.
Me: That sounds like a really crappy hat.

Just another day sitting and waiting to see one of my oncologists. Today, it's Dr. H although he looks a lot like Wilson from the TV show, House, I'll refer to him as Dr. H. He's been looking after my chemo and according to him any bragging rights to beating my cancer will be decided between Dr. Buster and Dr. H. According to Dr. H., it will be due to him if my cancer is ever gone. I'm feeling upbeat today as my appointment a few days ago with Dr. Buster revealed the chemo and drugs had knocked back my cancer a bit and surgery is on for the fall. The trouble with cancer is every single day you wait for bad news so on the good days you try to hold on a little longer and enjoy them. I've walked into the cancer centre today a little happier than usual. Dr. H., I am not sure what he will tell me today but I am hoping it continues on the path of things are looking good and that we're all going to give cancer a good old shit kicking this fall.

I spent a lot of time talking with my wife, Carolyn, this weekend about what the last seven months have meant. Did I 'survive' chemo, 'fight through' my treatments, 'beat' the cancer or just keep living while it happened around me. I'm inclined to go with the latter as I feel confused about what has really transpired over the last several months. I've learned chemo is a bitch! Chemo, for me, meant spending almost four months being inside someone else's body and times trying to operate with a brain that was like a 1985 Commodore 64 in a land of iPads. One of the drugs I had to take during chemo gave me an appetite that could have turned me into the first "BBQ Whore" if I had been left to work a corner in any major city. Yes, I think I may have been willing to turn tricks for a rack of ribs if you caught me at one o'clock in the morning...or in the afternoon...or evening...or before noon. Yes, I was horny for food 24/7! Until you've had chemo you can't appreciate how much it messes with you. Everyone loves to eat but with chemo I spent a good part of four months never knowing what my food would taste like. I love milk as well as buttered toast but for most of my treatment those things tasted like a harsh chemical. Chemo meant getting hit with a fatigue so quickly that I could leave a practice and within twenty minutes be unable to stop from passing out. I am glad I've gotten through it but I understand why some people say no and let the cancer kill them instead.

I got through the last seven months the same way people get through other things, one step at a time. I don't feel like I won a fight or defeated anything but that the last seven months passed and I managed to stay alive and upright. I've come to accept that I may never be "cancer-free" so finishing chemo and facing surgery in a couple of months is just another set of hurdles I have to get over. My main oncologist has already talked to me about another treatment that is coming out in the future so I've got to think he's already getting prepared for the next round versus cancer. Keeping motivated means leaning on people like family, friends, my team and my medical team. It means being angry a lot during treatment because my wife is pushing me to build a fence when I want to lay down on the couch because she knows laying around is not what I need. Thanks Carolyn for that!

I have a couple of months before surgery that sounds pretty major when it is described by your doctor as, "I'm going to open you up to your abdomen and clean you out. It'll take about five hours or so."  Scared? Hell yes! Excited? Of course! It means I'm going to be out of commission for two months or so but when I'm back I should be as good as new minus a lot of cancer and stuff. It'll be hard recoverng but it's a challenge and my team starts their exhibition season in December and we have a title to defend. 


"Some of you are thinking that you won't fight. Others, that you can't fight. They all say that, until they're out there." Gladiator (2000)

#shitkickcancer

Friday 27 June 2014

Cancer, ugh!: 6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With ...

Cancer, ugh!: 6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With ...: Me: Doctor, a guy actually called out "Mayor Rob Ford" when he walked in behind me at a truck stop. The cancer meds have given me ...

6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With Cancer

Me: Doctor, a guy actually called out "Mayor Rob Ford" when he walked in behind me at a truck stop. The cancer meds have given me a giant head and multiple chins.

Dr. H: I would have kicked him in the nuts!
(Love my medical team! Nut kickers and nut fixers!)

It's 6AM and a little over six months since my diagnosis and I am starting my blog again prior to my sixth and final chemo treatment. It feels like a pretty special day for me as I'm passing a few milestones and feeling like a much stronger person than I ever thought I had in me. The diagnosis of inoperable, mid-late stage cancer back in December seems so far away now and feels beatable because of how enjoyable the last six months have been. I owe the enjoyment of these last six months to so many people who I don't have the time or space to list but you know who you are.

The latest visit with one of the main doctors of my medical team shows hope and the chance of getting rid of my cancer for a period of time. He didn't want to use the word "cure" but he's hoping that the chemo and surgery should keep it away for a year or years and then we'll be ready to start again and fight it once more. He also added he'd like to take credit for it but to expect my other oncologist would do the same. It was a pretty upbeat visit. He was surprised I played soccer for two hours the night before our visit and after undergoing five chemo sessions. I didn't add that I played it badly and slowly. I'm two hours from my last session and it feels like I've run a marathon, written a five thousand word essay, eaten a fifth plate at a buffet and not cursed during a practice! In all fairness, there's no way I'm lasting a full practice without swearing as you players are going to make one of those pussy passes that pisses me off and then forget to box out!!!!! And that's why I love coaching you all.

It's been the offseason since May 11th and that's driving me nuts with boredom. After my fourth chemo session we took Rebecca to Detroit to see Lady Gaga. She spent a good part of the season having to go to my practices and games so the offseason was a time for her. The concert was rough as the meds were wearing off so despite the loud music I fell asleep in the stands. The one funny thing was I wore what I felt was a cool shirt that may have had a Western look to it. I showed a coworker the pic and she told me I looked like a chubby guy going to see Toby Keith. My wife pushed me through the show and then the next day we spent the day at the Michigan Science Center. It was rough but through this cancer ordeal she has pushed me to do more than I felt I could. I've wanted to kill her at times or curse her out but I argued a little and then 99% of the time did something I didn't think I was up to. She's been a tough coach through this and I'm thankful for it.

I found a parent-daughter basketball camp was scheduled for Indiana University on Father's Day and I was hoping to take Rebecca there but it was a week after my fifth chemo so I was afraid to commit to it as I would have to drive about 2000km on my own to get there (Carolyn doesn't drive and Rebecca can't see above the wheel. In China, that would be ok but not in the USA.). A couple of days before the camp and Carolyn suggested with the subtleness of a steel pipe that I had told Rebecca we'd go and not wanting to let her down we registered and booked the kennel for our dog. We decided to leave Saturday morning and drive the 900km or so to Bloomington in one day and after the Relay For Life in Brantford!

The Relay For Life was an awesome experience! My U17 Brantford Briers basketball team had decided to enter as a team, and dedicated it to me, in the Brantford Relay For Life for the Cancer Society. They informed me I didn't have to be dead for them to dedicate it to me. Thanks...I think. It meant so much to me lining up with the players for the opening and hearing the team name called out. Every player except two made it to the event with some staying for the entire night, and it was a very cold night, to walk laps. This special group of people who I'll forever remember as my favourite team managed to raise almost $2500 which placed them #6 out of 46 teams and the youngest group to participate. It felt awesome to be able to walk that final lap just before 7AM with the last four players left. It was also a great reminder of how much coaching while fighting cancer through chemo and drugs had meant to me and how much a group of teenagers had given me the spirit to keep going and never quit. I rushed away as it closed because we had 900km to drive to get to Indiana.

The drive to Indiana was beautiful as the Midwest is one big postcard. We finally got there around 10pm after a BBQ detour and a brand new GPS that decided to avoid all highways in Indiana and take us on a route that featured every church and cornfield the Hoosier State had to offer. My wife wanted to drive to Assembly Hall as it was her first time on campus. The best part was seeing Rebecca immediately hooked and excited for the next day. It was hard but after a drive of ten hours or so she fell asleep.

We took her on a walk around campus where she fell in love with the buildings and then went over to Assembly Hall where she signed in for the camp. The head coach, the coaching staff and the players were so welcoming and great around the children and parents that my daughter was sad to see the camp end. After being put through drills for over three hours I was quite ok with the end of camp. I had wrongly assumed it was parents watching daughters at camp. Coach Miller put us dads through everything but in twenty years of coaching it was the best run camp and the most "into the campers" staff and players I have ever been around. There's something special going to happen with that program in the next year or so. The highlight was Rebecca and I being called up and being given an autographed ball by Coach Miller for having travelled so far to attend camp. My daughter wanted to line up twice to get the players to sign her shirt and picture and these players chatted with her the whole time. We left the camp having spent a full day where cancer wasn't in the picture.  Rebecca left camp with the basketball bug and now with her ball on display she only wants to talk about going to camp again next year! Thanks Indiana Hoosiers Women's Basketball!

We're home and it's the offseason and the biggest lesson I've taken from the last six months is to stay busy, surround yourself with good people, listen closely to positive stuff, ignore the negative, enjoy little things like the smell of coffee or a chemo fart in your friend's car while he is out getting gas, KEEP BUSY, do everything you'd normally do, have a 'personal trainer' who pushes you and only crash when you really need to. Oh yeah and be as open as you can about your illness. I'm not ashamed I have cancer as it's just an illness I have. I talk about it with everyone and I try to answer all their questions because when they or someone they know has it maybe they'll be better prepared and not feel weird about sharing with others. I've learned a lot from others because of sharing it. I remind people it's not like cancer is an STD I picked up because I slept with a half dozen sailors on a Greek tugboat!

A friend asked me how I top this past season as a coach as being diagnosed with cancer the day before the season, coaching almost every game save one and the team winning a provincial championship is tough to top. My response, next year I'm getting a new disease! I'll be the coach with ebola and cancer!


Things To Do With Cancer
Enjoy your life and keep busy!
Coach 27 games and 60 or so practices
Drive to Detroit to take your daughter to see Lady Gaga two day after chemo
Drive 2000km to Indana and back for a basketball camp
Put up a fence and do trim work on a new floor the day after chemo
Drive to Sudbury and back to coach a provincial championship team
Insult your staff on a daily basis and have them do the same to you
Enjoy chemo because it's a two hour break to watch a movie and get a good nap

Things Not To Do With Cancer
Feel bad for yourself (it happens but you have to shake it off)
Sit around and do nothing
Buy a big Afro wig when you lose your hair (I wanted to but wife said no)
Google cancer!!!!

One of friends was asking me about sun exposure, danger from sun, could I handle the sun, etc. I knew he was dancing around us playing golf and me being sensitive to the sun because of chemo. Finally, I said to him, "I think playing golf is ok because the worst thing that could happen is I could get...cancer."

Convenor: "The referees are not biased."
Me: "I agree. They are equally incompetent."

#shitkickcancer






Monday 12 May 2014

Cancer, ugh!: Disney shit happened! The end of the first chapter...

Cancer, ugh!: Disney shit happened! The end of the first chapter...: I'm writing this as I wait to see one of my oncologists to review my blood work. Hopefully, my PSA has dropped and that my white and red...