Not Again.

Once you have cancer, the thought of hearing that word again attached to your name is no fun at all. For me, beating cancer twice has always got me thinking about the 3rd time––mainly that it never comes.

I had been feeling pretty lousy for a couple of months. I ignored it. I'm fucking Superman, right? Just working too hard for too many days, weeks, months and years. I'll be OK.

Then I realized about 7 years ago, I was feeling the same. Always tired. Weight was fluctuating. My hair was falling out more than usual. So I finally stopped for an hour. Yes, took myself away from phones, computers, TV and people to get my head straight for a whole hour. Had a talk with myself. The conclusion? If you keep this up, you won't be around very much longer. Time to go see the Doctor.

I decided that it was time for a complete physical––and so did my Doctor. I made an appointment (earliest was 6 weeks later) and went back to working myself to death. All the time wondering what the hell was wrong with me and would I be able to handle the "c" word again if it came to that.

Fast forward to the physical. I had lost 10 pounds. My blood pressure was through the roof. I had no energy. My Doctor ordered extra blood work. This did not seem to be good. At all.

Last week, I had a consultation on my test results. Seems as if the radiation and chemo I received in 2007 has damaged my thyroid––hypo thyroid it was explained to me which can be caused by radiation among other things. "Nothing to worry about right now but we need to see if we can correct it with medication." When people tell you there is nothing to worry about, there's something to worry about. And so I did worry until I got my scrips filled. Which now includes medication for: acid reflux (side effect), cholesterol (hereditary), Vitamin D (dangerously low) and thyroid (side effect). For the next 4-6 weeks.

We'll see how it all works, one day at time. Because that's all we really have, is today. And for at least today, I can say with absolute certainty that I do not have cancer and turn those two dreaded words into positive words.

Not again.

Christmas Wish List

Live.

Bad Habits Not Good For My Health.

I'm doing it again.

I'm putting work ahead of everything else. Last time I worked this hard for this long, I started to feel bad. Really bad. It was cancer. And it was only 6 years ago.

Now I'm not throwing myself a pity party here. But I am trying to take a step back and look at what I can do differently. Because I am the problem AND the solution. I need to say no more often. I need to delegate. I need to stop trying to "fix" everything. I am worried.

I have to remind myself that I can always get another job. I can't get another life. This is the only one I have. And after surviving cancer twice, I actually feel like I'm in the bonus round of life. (As if working 6-7 days a week, 10+ hours a day is a "bonus").

Last night as I was turning off the lights and locking the doors downstairs, something on the fridge caught my eye––or maybe it was calling my name. Like, "hey fuckhead. You trying to kill yourself." It was a picture of My Brother From Another Mother, Larry. There he was, with his arms stretched out wide and a huge smile on his face. It's a picture from his memorial service announcement. Larry passed away from cancer––three weeks from diagnosis to death––a year-and-a-half ago. He was my "heat check", as Larry worked in the same business as I do. This was after my Wife had told me to never skip lunch again. Later on in the middle of the night, I woke up thinking about what I could do to get myself to change.

And that's not healthy either.

cancer Victim's Rights Campaign

I received a comment on one of my posts a while back that hit home. It was from Susan Vento, Wife of former U.S. House Representative, Bruce Vento.

Unfortunately, on October 10th, 2000, Mr. Vento died of pleural mesothelioma—a rare disease caused by asbestos exposure that kills 90-95% of those who have it. Not many people know about this terrible disease, which lead Susan to reach out to me. Susan is the spokesperson for a great online resource called the Cancer Victim's Right Campaign (cancervictimsrights.org) that fights to protect cancer victims and their families. She wrote a blog piece (http://cancervictimsrights.org/my-story-opposition-to-the-fact-act-susan-vento/) that you need to read. Please share it after you read it.

I ask you this because cancer will not "just go away." And more importantly, I created this blog to help others in any way, big or small. It's one reason my blog title is Other Side Of Cancer. I'm still learning to this day, 6 years after my diagnosis, how my cancer effected my family members and friends. I just had a drink with a friend on Wednesday who asked me, "you're cancer free, right?" I said, "yeah but the side effects are killing me." He said, "all that matters is you're alive and we're here talking about it over a whiskey. I saw you go through some shit and I know."

Help Susan to help others. It might even help you.

A Reason To Celebrate.

About this time 31 years ago, I was waking up (West Coast Time) to get ready for a big day. I wasn't hungover or waking up in Tijuana on a bus with only my underwear on and a dime taped to my forehead. (Another story for another time). I was alone in my 2 bedroom duplex that I shared with my Girlfriend and a 2-year-old.

It was my wedding day. I was adamant about not getting married since the time I was 10, having watched my parents get divorced from each other and both going through another divorce with their current partners. So marriage was not for me. Until I met the kindest, genuine, caring, most grounded, beautiful and fun woman in the world. When I met her in March of 1981, I was homeless (living out of a friend's VW bug with bad breaks and having to pop the clutch often to get it started), working in the mailroom at Chiat/Day making $800/month and living life one day at a time. Not quite "the catch". I still remember laying in bed wondering why this woman would want to spend the rest of her life with me––hell, I didn't even want to spend the rest of my life with me.

Our ceremony started at 7pm. Or was supposed to. My Mother was late––as usual––so we held up the ceremony for 30 minutes until she arrived. My poor soon-to-be Brother-In-Law was singing before the ceremony as guests arrived. Thank God he was a professional and knew how to extend the show. I had not seen Teresa yet. I even thought maybe she said "forget it" and left the church.

After witnessing my Mother being seated in the church, it was time to go wait at the alter. As the music played, I got to see Teresa for the first time in over 24 hours. She glowed. She was nervous. She was stunning. She was going to be my Wife. As I read my written vows to her, I had this extereme sense of hope, calm, belonging and most importantly a love that was so deep it hurt. In a great way.

Happy Anniversary to Teresa, the love of my life. My best friend ever. I still get excited coming home to see her every night. I still can't believe she sleeps with me every night––and that she puts up with my craziness and bullshit. And I love her infinitely more today than I did 31 years ago. I hope we have 31 more years together.

Is My Body Breaking Down?

It's been awhile since I've posted. The reason? I've been searching for some answers and inspiration, quite honestly.

I had surgery June 25. It was for a hernia and I'm still recovering from the ordeal. I took for granted all the little things I could not do once I went under the knife and came home for recovery––it hurts to sneeze, cough, laugh, burp, fart, spit (brushing my teeth and rinsing) and talk loudly. It took me 4 days to finally be able to lift my leg high enough so I could put my pants on.

Since I could not do much but sit & think for the last three weeks, I've had a lot of time to think things over and do some personal inventory. It got me thinking about the side effects from the cancer and more specifically, the radiation, chemo and the anesthesia from the surgeries. Since my diagnosis August 7, 2007, I have had a few things happen to my body beyond the initial recovery from the treatments––my gall bladder had to be removed, my blood pressure has been up and down which it never was before and now a hernia that required surgery.

Doctors tell me they are not "related". Oh really? So you pump my body with enough shit to literally kill me––and it almost did––and you think that NONE OF IT IS RELATED. Yes, I am older. Yes, I have not been a saint in my actions and choices in all my years. But I was an athlete at one time and I have always thought that way––keeping my body in shape and watching my weight.

Now I can't prove that any of this IS related because I'm not a Scientist or Doctor. And I don't have the time or money to find out. I'm too busy living one day at a time and enjoying the moment. I have my annual physical in August––that's how I "discovered" I possibly had cancer––so I'll ask the question I always like to ask because I can hear Bugs Bunny ask it so clearly.

What's up, Doc?

7-Year-Old Runs Into Our Hearts.

I'm going to let the next minute+ video tell you it all. I cry every time I see it.