WOW, over 6 months since my last post? Sorry about that! I suppose I’d better cut to the chase with this one …. When we last convened, I was about to take the field on third and long (uhhh, yes … football metaphor). In other words, we’d dialed up a high-risk, high-reward play (immunotherapy), knowing I might get crushed by a blitzing linebacker (brutal side effects) even if I got the pass off (was able to endure a few treatments), but we were hoping we might pick up some decent yardage (do some damage to the cancer in the meantime).
Well, to keep things in gridiron parlance … let’s just say since we tried immunotherapy, I’ve been to the blue tent too many times to count. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, the blue tent is the medical exam tent each team has on their sideline where injured players go after being dragged off the field. What has that meant for me in medical terms? Several multi-day stays in the hospital, countless MRIs and other scans, three spinal taps, about 523 bottles of various pills, a new, nasty, kind of chemo after immunotherapy blew up in our faces, bland embolization surgery to my liver, and more radiation to my head, jaw, neck vertebrae, ribs, chest, etc. etc.
At the present moment, I can’t walk without a walker, my liver feels like a rabid possum’s been chewing on it, my feet are swollen up like two cinderblocks, and I’m about to get more radiation to my head, neck, and back.
But did we complete the pass, you ask? Well, not exactly. My last full body scan, although it showed stability in many places (lungs, most bones, chest) it also showed the cancer had progressed in my liver (hence the rabid possum).
But all is not lost, not by a long shot. During this period, my five-year anniversary of being diagnosed Stage IV slipped right by in the night. Five years! I’m reminded of that all-time classic, Heat, and one particular, obscure line from the movie:
“Ain’t a hard time been invented that I cannot handle.”
The line is offered by a very minor character, Donald Breedan, an ex-con who just got out on parole … he’s basically telling his wife or girlfriend that he can take anything. I’ve always loved the line not just because Dennis Haysbert nails his delivery, but because it’s just a badass, cool line, period. It makes me think I can take anything, too (I try to forget that shortly after Breedan says it, he’s gunned down in a bank robbery shootout!).
Anyway, five years! Wow, what a stretch of time we’ve had. I’m quite sure Mr. Breedan was referring to time in prison, but for me, every second’s been a blessing. It could have been only five weeks or five months, but God blessed me with five YEARS (and counting).
And now where do we go from here? Well, the bland embolization I recently received on my liver should keep things somewhat stable there, I have most of my pain issues sorted out, and we will be going back to the new chemo again once I get past these upcoming rounds of radiation. As for using a walker … I’m not going to tell you I’m okay with that. The thought of learning to live without your legs working is a nightmare for anyone, but in particular someone like myself who, in part, measures daily happiness in terms of activity (working out, walking, running, biking, and engaging in creative and construction projects that require a certain degree of physicality). But I’m not giving up on that front either. I have a follow up appointment soon with a physiatrist to assess the nerve and soft tissue damage to my legs and my overall fatigue and figure out if there’s a way I can PT myself back to mobility (if there is, I will make it happen).
Anyway, I appreciate your patience, reading a post that is 99% update, but sometimes we gotta just get everyone on the same page, I suppose. One more thing on the plus side before I leave you … sickness, injury, disease, cancer, there’s no living here in this world without these things … but they do provide an opportunity for each of us to be both the instruments and recipients of God’s mercy and love. Well, I have never felt more loved in my life than I have the past several months. Specifically, by my four kids and my wife. I can’t believe how gracefully my kids have handled seeing me quite frankly getting my ass kicked, not shying away, and answering the call each and every time I’ve been in need. And Christie? Man, let’s just say vows aren’t just words. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to have a partner who is in it through the absolute thick and thin. I mean it when I say I don’t think I’d make it another day without her. Thanks, babe—you are both the rock and the pillow for myself and this whole family.
Ok, until next time, thanks again for staying connected and for all the love and support you’ve given our family. Thank God, and God bless …
Peace out!
Joe
P.S. I am sooooooo close to turning The Short Happy Life of Cob Logan over to the copy editor and cover designer – I just have 1,200 em-dashes I need to edit before doing so – yes, em-dashes are my Achilles heel – I once em-dashed from here to Tucson, Arizona … anyway, once I send it off, I’ll begin organizing my notes on the next two novels I’m working on … Thanks to God, for giving me such distractions …