“The Fight Has Come to a Stop” – Not the Results Post

Well, my “3rd Tour of Duty” has come to an end. After 10 long, weary, and trying months, we’ve wrapped up the entire protocol:

1. Full Open Thoracotomy (5 wedge resections of lung & 2 ribs removed)
2. 30 Transmissions of IMRT Radiation (+ 6 wks continuous 5fu pump)
3. 12 Doses of Folfiri Infusion (w/46-hour 5fu pump + 5fu bolus)

I’ve been fighting this fight very quietly for the most part and just going about my business of dealing with cancer. I’ve probably been so quiet, that most people were probably unaware of where I was in the fight or that a fight was in the making. I didn’t see the point in worrying folks unnecessarily, so I just kept going, unless I had something to really talk about it, or a change or something during treatment. The “radiation” post was an example, as I was on the ropes about to hit the canvas.

I got caught up in the “National Shortage” of Leucovorin, so 3 of my last 4 treatments, I went without it. I suppose no hospital is immune to this these days and unfortunately some of us will get caught up in that net. But we do what we can do with what we’ve got and move forward.

I’m battered and bruised – a little worse for the wear, but I was able to make it through my 3rd recurrence battle and was able to take anything and everything that they threw my way. I’m quite proud of the fact that my little body was able to swallow so much poison and toxicity and still be semi-functional. Adding of course, that it still feels good to be here.

I had to trade TOMORROW for TODAY with this fight and gave up quite a bit to see it through. I’ve left my blood and guts in the O/R, let them burn 10% of my right lung and kill that section of my lung, and swallowed 12 very mean rounds of Folfiri. Throughout the campaign we kept our foot on the gas and I got two 5-day workarounds for scheduling issues….other than that, we stayed very aggressive and attacked all the time.

I don’t mind telling you that when my 3rd recurrence popped up and I found that surgery did not get all of the tumor - and that it was in extremely close proximity to my spine, that I certainly had my concerns and apprehensions on how this was all going to turn out.

My body has taken a good lickin' with this portion of my journey. The further I go down the road, I’m becoming convinced that the body “only has so many” big fights in it before we really start losing quality of life. That number would be different for each one of us. When I say “big fight”, I refer to doing the full banana: surgery/radiation/chemo.

While the other protocols are tough on their own, when you combine all of these protocols, you are taxing the body to the limit and I just always wonder which lick will begin to turn me the other direction.

So far, I’ve had 3 big fights and am definitely feeling every one of them. But, I still have some quality of life remaining, so all in all, I suppose it’s been what I had to do to reach this point.

Total Journey Recount:
1. 51 rounds of chemotherapy
2. 55 rounds of radiation
3. 3 rounds of CyberKnife
4. 4 major surgeries

I can also tell you that it has been a long and dark road that I’ve been on this past year. …the loneliest time of my entire journey. Everyone checked out on me this time, so there was nobody and nothing to turn to on these days when an hours worth of company or a phone call would have meant so much.

It got so bad on a couple of occasions, that I drove myself up to the Walmart parking lot and parked the car and just listened to the radio. I wanted so bad to feel that I had some kind of connection, some kind of meaning to society.

And actually, it was a big treat, ‘cause I’ve been out on 60% pay for nine months now and there was no spare cash for gasoline, except to the hospital. When I had 2 extra miles of gas, I drove up there – one mile up and one mile back. I would watch the cars go by on the street and watch people walk into the store. I would sit there and reflect and just hope and dream of when this nightmare would be over for me.

This is probably so hard for any of you to understand, because you have so many people in your life: loving caregivers, kids, grandkids, family, and friends. But for those of us that don’t, the Walk with Cancer can indeed be very lonely and isolating. You really have to dig a little deeper to go to that next level, or you would just go insane. I know I was tested this time like no other.

I can also tell you that I’ve never been physically sicker than any time during my journey. My body has just about reached the end of how many more toxins in a short period of time that I could take. Radiation crushed me and the chemo treatments had me sick 22 of 30 days of the month, so during this time, Life was not really worth living – FOR ME.

I questioned everything and began re-evaluating my life and asking myself “Is this really worth it to me?” It was about that time, that “The Chemo Wars” post was released. My reflections on if I was getting out of the fight what I was putting into it.

I’m coming out of the Darkness now…in the next 30 days, I hope to feel 100% better than I do today, as we wean these nasty chemicals out of my body.

I’ve contacted all the “King’s Horses and All the King’s Men” and they are going to help try and put your “Humpty Dumpty” back together again. I’m going to try now and rebuild this worn out body and my worn out soul.

And along with all of that, I’m going to try and save my marriage, which has been stretched to the very limits of the vows we took “In Sickness and In Health.” After 7-years of caregiving, the scars are evident. I see it so clearly in our souls and the lines on our faces, which are now indelibly etched with who we are now – and what we have become, as a result of this disease.

Yes, Cancer: “It tries to take away all that you are – and all that you’re ever going to be.”

Perhaps, it is for this lone reason, why I keep fighting as hard as I do. I think I also fight on, because I also dream of better days when my life will be full with people and I will have the richness and texture of life and relationships, which I’ve yet to experience. That’s probably worth staying around for:)

Those that have met me, know I’m the same guy as is on this board. In analyzing myself, I’ve come to the conclusion, that I’m OK, but have just not found a circle of people that I can rely on, outside of this board. Cancer scares many people away and they have all walked away – so now it’s up to me to find some new people that can accept me for what I am.

I know I did not bother you guys too much (know how I hate to burden you too much with my problems) but many of you contacted me and wrote things that helped me at critical times during this fight. Some posts were opened and many, many PMs were sent. I want to thank all of you for that. I also want to thank those that have stayed with me and are also waiting to see how things all turned out.

And this portion of my journey could not be told, without again, recognizing “Angel”, who happened to be on-line the day I wrote the “Road to Ruin” post. Her kindness, generosity, and her “gentle nudging” got me back on track at a very critical juncture of this journey.

Financial reasons caused me to cancel scans and surgeries and I thought I was smart enough to evaluate my situation with bloodwork. This was one of the “biggest mistakes” I’ve made since I got Cancer. I was posting a 0.5 but with Cancer raging in my lungs….it was that point that I new CEA was no longer a good indicator for me. After we did the CT all the handwriting was on the wall and I knew right away, we were in trouble and the fight was back in a big way.

I think back to “Angel’s” words of wisdom to me, “We don’t want to get down the road and look back and wonder if this was a critical juncture in your fight.”

No truer words ever spoken to me. I was a fool and was blinded by running out of money to pay my medical expenses, so I let my better judgment get in my way. It took her to get me right and I’ve vowed to never make that mistake again. That one could have been a “fatal mistake.” I’ll never be able to thank her enough, I merely try and pay it forward wherever I find the opportunity to do so.

Through all of this, I am still standing and hopeful of a decent outcome. It’s been a long year – a year that has tested this ol’ war horse, but I can once again see the light, where things might be good for a little while.

Over the last 2 years, many of you have said “Good Times” are coming from me. I’m not greedy, I don’t ask for cure anymore, just give me 6-months to a year break, outside of scans, and I would be grateful for that.

Do I think Recurrence #4 is around the corner?

I think it will be for me….this disease is so hard to beat….I fight it with all that this Texan can muster, but it never seems to be enough.

But, maybe this time will be different….we won’t worry about #4 until it gets here….in the meantime, I’m going to go back to work and try and find the “rhythm of life” once again. And to also get back to helping people, I was so sick during this stretch, that I was unable to reach out – but I know everyone understand how it is when you are in the throes of battle.

My onc is still waiting to schedule scans, so I’m in a holding pattern right now. He wants my bloodwork to settle down and give enough time to see if any new masses appear. I’ve fought and waited a year, so I suppose I can wait a few more weeks.

I’ll be very interested to see how the “big fight” turned out this time. I honestly don’t know which way it will lean. I don’t get Scananxiety, because I don’t expect too much and in that way, I’m not let down too badly.

My hopes and wishes would be that the left lung is still clear – that the 1.1 cm mass in my right lung is stable with no growth (hopefully dead tissue) – and that there are no new growths – and that I’m still clear in the rectum and liver. This would be the ideal words to be reading or hearing. So, we’ll go for that.

I’ve learned many lessons from Cancer and this year was no different – enlightenment came in wave upon wave and my postings probably reflected a great deal of that. That’s the growth that I continually harp about:)

I’ll close this post with another lesson that I’ve learned this year. Based on 3 recurrences and 7-years of active fighting:

“Cancer is HARD – if it were easy, everybody would be doing it – it’s the HARD that makes it GREAT.”

I’ll let you ponder that statement a moment or two – I’ll think you’ll get my meaning…

Ok, here’s the translation…

When we stand up to Cancer and win a victory against It, we ourselves become EMPOWERED individuals – we took our licks – we took our swings – and we did what we thought was completely unimaginable – and we wake up and realize we have grown as people – and because it was “hard” and we overcame It , then that’s the “great” part.

Thanks for reading this post. I hope to have the RESULTS POST as soon as I know something. It’s always great talking with each one of you. It’s something that I look forward to and one of the things I treasure the most in my life.

Still time to get your bets down, LOL:)

-Craig