All it takes is guts

Support Shawn’s Cause…

2010-01-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

It’s 2010…do you have your Colondar, the colon cancer awareness calendar, featuring Shawn as Mr. May? If not and you would like to support an organization that provided Shawn with a truly incredible, life-affirming experience last summer, please consider purchasing a Colondar.

You can order a Colondar online at http://www.colonclub.com/colondar.html and also read all about the amazing models that Shawn bonded with as well as see their videos. Each Colondar is only $16.50. Shawn’s story – written in his own words – is available from http://www.colonclub.com/2010May.html

If you’ve been reading Shawn’s blog for awhile, then you know he blogged about his wonderful Colondar journey. Please revisit posts from June and July 2009 http://allittakesisguts.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html

In Shawn’s own words (August 31, 2009)…

“On a personal note...Why am I selling these? Well, besides me being IN the calendar, my experience has been incredible. Colon cancer is normally an old person disease. I had joined cancer groups in DC and I was the only one with colon cancer. Then I went to the photo shoot and met 14 other people just like me. We were best friends from the instant we met. And I cannot put into words how valuable these new friends are now that I was re-diagnosed three weeks after meeting them all. Just being able to talk to people who have been there is so incredible. I want people in the future to be able to have the same experience I've had. And in order to do that, I have to help make sure the Colondar keeps going.

So, if you have the means, I'd really appreciate you helping out a tremendous organization.”

A Poem for Shawn...

2009-12-23T09:33:00.000-08:00

All is Well - by Henry Scott-Holland
Recited during Shawn's memorial service/celebration:

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me and if you want to, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
For an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: SHAWN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE ON MONDAY...

2009-12-18T08:27:00.000-08:00

Due to the impending snowstorm, the memorial/celebration for Shawn has been changed.

The celebration of Shawn Felty's life is now scheduled for MONDAY, December 21st:
Visitation/Viewing from 3-5 pm
Service 5-6:00 pm
Location: Demaine Funeral Home
520 South Washington Street Alexandria, VA 22314
http://www.funeralhomesguide.com/Virginia/Alexandria/DemaineFuneralHome.html
703-549-0074

There will still be a potluck reception following the service at Shawn's house. The address will be provided at the services.

In lieu of flowers, guests may send donations to the Colon Club at http://www.colonclub.com/donate.html

Please bring a favorite Shawn photo to add to his Christmas tree that was started at the hospital.
For those flying in, the funeral home has offered a code for discounted bereavement flights. Please contact Dwayne at 571-277-6151 for the number.

Music for Shawn...

2009-12-17T07:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends of Shawn,

This is a post on behalf of Shawn's neighbor Gale. We are putting together songs to be played during Shawn's memorial service on Saturday and need someone to download, or copy specific songs and burn the music to a CD. If you can download the music and burn it to a CD please contact me at this temporary... gmail address: AllItTakesIsGutsShawn@gmail.com with your name, number and email address. In the subject line put "Burn CD. "

I will send you the list of songs. This needs to be completed by Friday afternoon for the funeral home. Shawn was a huge Elton John fan - but none of us can remember which songs were his favorite - if you know, please send it to me at the above email address. If you know the names of any of Shawn's favorite songs please send them to us, too. A song was sung at Michael Jackson's funeral by Usher(?) about dying too young - if anyone knows where or what that song was please let us know. Thanks so much. Gale Nemec

Celebrate Shawn Felty...

2009-12-14T19:39:00.000-08:00

A celebration of Shawn Felty's life will take place on Saturday, December 19th:

Visitation/Viewing from 3-5 pm

Service 5-6:00 pm

Location: Demaine Funeral Home

520 South Washington Street Alexandria, VA 22314
http://www.funeralhomesguide.com/Virginia/Alexandria/DemaineFuneralHome.html
703-549-0074

There will be a potluck reception following the service at Shawn's house.

In lieu of flowers, guests may send donations to the Colon Club at http://www.colonclub.com/donate.html

Please bring a favorite Shawn photo to add to his Christmas tree that was started at the hospital.

For those flying in, the funeral home has offered a code for discounted bereavement flights. Please contact Dwayne at 571-277-6151 for the number.

Knockin' on Heaven's Doors...

2009-12-13T19:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends of Shawn,

It is with heavy hearts that we share the following:

On December 13, 2009 at 4:30 pm, Shawn Felty passed peacefully surrounded by family and close friends. He was loved by many, with nearly 100 teammates, fellow actors, colleagues, cancer survivors, cancer fighters, Colondar models and friends visiting him over the last few days. For two years he battled this disease with incredible strength and extraordinary grace and he was inspiration to all who knew him. The world lost an amazing man today, but he left behind a perfect example of perseverance, fortitude and friendship.

Memorial arrangements will be shared when plans are finalized.

Update from Shawn

2009-12-09T09:10:00.000-08:00

[Shawn's friend posting on his behalf to keep you updated]

Hi everyone,

Shawn wanted you to know that he is currently at Georgetown University Hospital. He has been in and out of the hospital since November 30th when he had the catheter inserted (see previous post for more details). Shawn likes to receive and read your text messages, but asks that you refrain from leaving him voicemails. Also, he is not receiving email or Facebook messages. Thanks.

Take my breath away...

2009-11-29T19:06:00.000-08:00

Actually, I'd prefer to have my breath given back. So tomorrow, I'm having a catheter implanted in my lung cavity. In the past two weeks, I had my lung drained twice (once for 1/2 a liter and again for over a full liter). I could continue going to the hospital for this, but for a couple of reasons it is better to get my on drain hooked up and do it myself.

One of the reasons is that I can do it often and be able to control my breathing better. The other reason is because when I go for a drain here and there, the doc is guessing at the route that the needle has to take from my skin, through my back, past my ribs and into the cavity. The last time when I had a liter drained, 1.5 liters remained because he hit the cavity too high to drain it completely.

This procedure will get the tube right at the bottom of my lung. They say in 60-70% of the patients, the catheter actually helps dry up the fluid and it can be removed in a few months.

It's an out-patient procedure, so I'll be home tomorrow night (and also awake for the tube being inserted in my chest. As the Beach Boys sing, "and we'll have fun, fun, fun 'til the doctor takes the catheter away." (Okay, it wasn't exactly those lyrics!)

Ice, Ice, Baby...

2009-11-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

"Oh, we need a little xmas...right this very minute..."

I meant to post this before now, but the last week has been a mess for me. Anyhoo...Last Monday, the 16th, I attended an event in DC for cancer. It was at the Verizon Center and featured ice-skating stars and recording artists. Included were: Dorothy Hamill, Scott Hamilton, and Olivia Newton John (All three are cancer survivors.) Also there were Kristi Yamaguchi, Nancy Kerrigan, Viktor Petrenko, a few 2010 Olympic hopefuls and a couple of American Idols.

The show will be airing Thanksgiving (short notice) on Fox at 4pm or 5pm (after the football game).

Because I'm part of a colon cancer group, we got discounted seats. Instead of the normal $40-$100, I paid $2 each! Yep, $2. And...I was four rows from the ice. I guess cancer has it's perks. (Keep the discount...take the cancer from me.)

The show was SO good. At age 51, Scott Hamilton was still doing back flips. Olivia Newton John sounds exactly the same. If you get a chance, check it out tomorrow.

Hospital trip...

2009-11-22T16:44:00.000-08:00

He had half his liver removed. Now he's had a tube inserted into his lung cavity (while awake) to drain the fluid. He lives vicariously through himself. He is the most interesting man in the world. I never drink alcohol, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.

Well, last weekend I was feeling a little rundown, not much of an appetite, and a headache. I made the trip to Pittsburgh to see the Panthers beat Notre Dame, but I couldn't finish my Primanti Brothers' sandwich, so the victory was missing something! I had to take a narcotic for my head after the game. The next day, I figured out that the headache was due to dehydration. I drank a few bottles of water and was okay.

Monday came and I had a fever, so I stayed home from work. It broke later in the day and I went to a cancer event that night involving skating (stay tuned for post about that night). The event was great, but on my way home, I started feeling beyond sick. I felt awful in so many ways I didn't know what was ailing. I took some narcs and went to sleep. Tuesday was more of the fever, but not as bad as Monday night, so I thought I might be recovering. Tuesday night, it started to hurt with each breath. Not good. If I wasn't better on Wednesday, I was going to the ER.

ER Time... In the ER, there weren't many people in the waiting room, but the back rooms were full. I waited 3.5 hours in the waiting room. I entered at 100.2 degrees and 3 hours later was 101.8. They got me back to a bed fairly quick after that.

Saline was pumped into me to get me hydrated and they took a chest x-ray. It showed I could have pneumonia. There was fluid in my lungs, but people with cancer in their lungs can get fluid there, too. I did a CT scan to see if I had a blood clot, too. Here is the best news of the week...no blood clot! Okay, now back to crap...

I was admitted to the hospital and pumped with saline and antibiotics (even though we didn't know if I had pneumonia). Thursday night, doctors decided to take the fluid from my lung and then test the fluid to see what it was. I asked if my visitor could stay. No, they needed it sterile. So, we began... I sat on the side of the bed and leaned over a pillow on a table in front of me. My arm was stretched over my head. At this point, the tech enters my room to get my vital signs. "Can't you do this later?" "No, I have to do it now." (What? Was she an ant? If she leaves her line, can she not find her way back? I'm having a needle jammed into my upper back. Do you think you're going to get an accurate pulse reading with a sharp instrument in me?)

She eventually left and after using ultrasound, the lung docs found a path through my body to insert the tube. They began. It started off like they were trying to pop the most painful pimple ever on my back and they kept going...until they hit rib. I guess the ultrasound lied because they had to start over. This time worked and they sucked the liquid out. 600 ML of if. It was so gross. They said "we are going to get the most out that we can. we we get near the end, the lung will start to expand/contract and you are going to cough. I went from "fine" to coughing in no time. And I couldn't stop. I thought I might cough up that lung.

The results came back from the testing of the gross stuff. It was not from pneumonia. It didn't mean it was from the cancer, but since I have cancer there, it's likely. In fact, I still don't know what it's from because nobody can tell me a definite answer. That is why I left the hospital. I layed there for a day and a half more will no one was doing anything bug giving me an oral antibiotic. I can that at home and not have people waking me ever hour to borrow blood, take my temp, listen to my heart, or reach in and rip out my stomach.

Do I feel I should have left the hospital? No. But I also knew that no one there was going to do anything for me there. There were no tests lined up. I will monitor myself at home and if I need to return to the ER, I will (but at a different hospital.) 90% of what I have seen at Georgetown is a joke. I like my oncologist and my infusion nurses, but the rest of the staffs seem not to care at all. If you have something else on top of cancer, you might as well go to the local theater and see if there is a doctor in the house.

So, my pain was cleared up via the drainage, but that was the only thing the hospital trip did for me. I know have that lovely water-retention again. My body thinks it is dehydrated and is storing water for the winter like a squirrel with nuts. My legs and abs are huge, pudgy and blobby. And maybe because of this inflated torso, I also have shortness of breath. I get winded walking stairs or anything. Then again, the shortness might be from something else, but none of the docs cared to find out.

I'm banking that when the weight drains, I'll be able to breathe. I have to drink plenty for that to happen.

Stay thirsty, my friends.

Chemo decision...

2009-11-06T23:58:00.000-08:00

Sorry to keep you waiting on my choice of chemo drugs, but I've been lazy about blogging lately. I'm on a chemo vacation while I get ready for the next treatment. So, I've been squeezing in all kinds of things. I went to the movies four times in the past week-plus.

And now the moment you've all been waiting for. Drumroll, please. tatatatatatatata... I chose to go with the clinical trial. Here is my thought process: The other choice was a treatment I was on right after my surgeries. That kept the cancer from coming back while I was on it. But I didn't have any signs of cancer then. So, I'm not 100% sure it would shrink the tumors I have now. Also, the clinical trial is said to have a lot less side effects. Why not give myself a chance to see if it works? Because if it does, I could take it for a long time and feel normal. Live normal. Be normal. That's all I really want, anyway, when you come down to it.

What does the clinical trial entail? Well, every week I have to eat all green sprouts and bamboo chips and bathe in algae-filled water. Wait, wait, wait...that's not right. Ugh, I thought I was looking at the paperwork for the study, but it was a pamphlet on how to take care of your pet panda. Where did I pick up that literature? Chemo brain...I don't recall.

Okay, here is the study's paperwork. For one week, I will take two drugs. Then I don't take anything for the next three weeks. One drug is a chemo that is proven on brain cancer and melanoma. The other is the experimental drug. That is called a PARP inhibitor. PARP is the ability for a cell to repair itself when it's damaged at the DNA level. The theory is that the chemo will work better if the cancer cells can't repair themselves. We shall see.

I'm hopeful, worried, anxious, excited. Let's just start already. D-Day is 23 November. Here is the fun part. I have to take the pills twice a day and I can't eat or drink for two hours prior and one hour post. That is six hours a day I cannot eat or drink. For a guy trying not to lose weight every day, that stinks. And Thanksgiving is during my first week of it! I'll have to set my alarm for 1am to wake up and eat turkey and filling (It's called filling in central PA. Basically, it's bread stuffing mixed with smashed potatoes. There. I like to keep my blog educational as well as sexy and scary.)

Took the words out of my mouth...

2009-10-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

My newest best friend I met less than two months ago. We were part of a gathering in Little Rock, AR for the "Big Dam Walk." It was a walk for colon cancer over a big damn. A bunch of past and present Colondar models were in attendance. That included Becca (http://www.colonclub.com/2008August.html). Somehow people were just drawn to her...myself included. Anyhoo...she and I were up talking at 3am last night. (A common thing for people on chemo is insomnia.) We are both stage IV colon cancer survivors and we have a bunch in common with cancer, but it has also caused us to think a lot alike.

I didn't know until last night that she kept a blog, too. I read an entry she wrote this week. I felt like I had dictated it to her. Her thoughts are exactly mine. And since she already put them into words, I would like to share: (either click the link to her blog or read the text below)

http://thecolonchronicles.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-support-in-our-social-networking.html

When you are diagnosed, you have a few choices in terms of ways in which to cope. Among those choices are things like support groups, or networking groups of other people with cancer. In our social-networking-crazed world, its also easy (if almost impossible NOT) to build a community of cancery-people online. All the myriad of websites with message boards, email groups, blogs and of course...the big bad daddy of 'em all, Facebook. Over the years, I've met people who've either been through the same things I have for colon cancer, OR have had various cancers of their own but for some reason or another, we've connected and relate to each other. Sites such as The Colon Club, Imerman Angels, and Planet Cancer to name a few, have allowed me to either reach out to, or be reached by a huge network of patients/survivors/caregivers, etc. Many of these people I keep in more regular contact with via Facebook.
I actually have my "friends lists" in my Facebook broken down into "Colon Cancer People" and "Other Cancer People" and they're both pretty lengthy.
I figured it was healthy and good to have people you can vent to, and relate to in ways you never ever could to even the most well-meaning friend or family member. But inevitably, if you have a network of cancer-folk you will also lose some of those folk. And chances are, lose them to the very thing that you yourself are fighting. No matter how close you were to a person, or how long you knew them, ANY interaction in the cancer world, even a brief one, can form an intense bond.
I've posted on here before about someone I knew and was close to, passing away from her cancer. And in the time since then (roughly a year ago) several others I've met have passed away from it as well.
As of late I've been mulling over whether having this community of cancer-folk is actually a good and healthy thing after all? I recently was in an email discussion back n forth with a handful of other colon cancer survivors (of various lengths of time) and one of them made a comment about how he was glad he was finally getting "past this cancer crap" and beginning to "move on with life". It wasn't a comment directed at me specifically, but at the group as a whole. Many in the group had cancer quite a number of years ago (8, 10, 13 etc). Just those simple comments were enough to simultaneously enrage me with jealousy, and fill me with sadness and resentment.
I would LOVE to be able to get past cancer. I would give anything to be able to move on with life. I don't see how that is ever possible for me however. I mean, yes, I can still do other things and not dwell day to day on cancer, cancer, cancer. I can try my best to not let it consume me every minute of every hour. But ultimately the fact still remains that every day, twice a day, I have to remember to take my chemo pills. And every week, for an hour or so every week, I have to truck myself up to the burbies to get an infusion at my oncologists office. The time in between all of that, I am sometimes lucky to be able to distract myself and not think about my ultimate demise, or perhaps any of the MANY ramifications that come about from having cancer, or being on treatment. Although, successful in that as I may be, I can easily log into facebook or even just check my email and instantly be reminded about it in someway. Some friend will post about how a scan has come back clear! Or another will send a link to an awesome organization we cancery-people should know about. Or maybe there's a fundraiser, young adult cancer-mixer, or a walk/run for awareness we should support. Or...and these are the "or's" you begin to dread: You randomly happen upon a friends profile page in passing only to realize from the comments posted that a person who, not more than a week prior, you were reading about them celebrating a 27th birthday...or who that VERY day you had just addressed a birthday card to send to her, belated of course...apparently just passed away the day before. I don't know whats more sad, the fact that someone you know just died way too young and for not a good enough reason...or the fact that you find out on a website...or the fact that its not all that uncommon of an thing.
I begin to think about how if I didn't know all these people...all these wonderful, amazing, remarkable, hilarious, strong, intelligent, accomplished, loving, kind people...that I wouldn't have nearly as much sadness and sorrow. To be fair, with or without knowing them, I have my fair share of it. But with knowing all of these new friends, I've expanded the potential for grief many times over. So is that good for your psyche? Is it healthy and healing to have to continuously face the end result to things in which you yourself are facing? In the same respect if I ignored all these new friends. If i disassociated myself from all the organizations I've connected to that do so much towards cancer-support...is that any healthier? Would denial be any better of a way to cope? Common knowledge would lead me to think no. But I would be remiss if I did not admit that I don't always believe common knowledge knows what the hell it's talking about!! Of course, ultimately, there isn't a right or wrong answer. However, I'd love to hear others thoughts on this matter.

What to wear for Halloween...

2009-10-27T16:07:00.000-07:00

Well, I got the results of my CT scan yesterday. It wasn't the shrinkage I was hoping for. Instead the tumors have grown...just slightly, but still. Also, there are a couple more. None of this is great news. But it's not a disaster. I have options.

One of the options is a clinical trial. This particular trial doesn't have any data to go by other than it worked in testing on animals, and they figured out the dosage needed. So I'd be stage three of the trial. The good news is that this combo of drugs doesn't seem to have any side effects. And I'd only do it for two months and then we would scan. If it isn't working, I could try the next option.

Another option I have is the drug treatment I was on after my surgeries. That "seemed" to work, but who really knows. The surgery removed the tumors and the chemo simply kept it from coming back for a year. But were things just starting to grow from nothing while I was on it?

So which do I choose? I wanted my biggest decision this week to be my Halloween costume, but instead I have to choose a drug that might work and save my life. I can't wait until the day when "What should I have for lunch?" is back in my thoughts.

I'm still here, so "We have one more game!"

Colondar sales...

2009-10-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

I gotta say that I think being on chemo is a great marketing idea! My goal is to sell 300 Colondars and I'm at 220, now. But, now is the tougher sell. Most people I know who want one have already bought one. If you are one of those people who want one, but haven't told me...then let me know! Eighty to go!!!

The money goes for a couple of things...colon cancer awareness and also to support the next Colondar. Being part of the Colondar has helped me SO much. Three weeks after meeting all these people who have been in my situation, I was diagnosed with my recurrence. I can't tell you how much that has helped me. So, I'm asking you to help me help someone else. If you are looking for a holiday gift, Colondars are great!

Kind words...

2009-10-16T15:03:00.000-07:00

I get very nice email notes from time to time. I thought I'd share a couple I got this week. Obviously, they made me cry. I cry at Campbell's soup commercials, for crying out loud!

Hey, I got my calendar and visited your blog. I was really charmed, moved, entertained, saddened, inspired, etc. by all you write and have written about your experience. You really are such a gift to the earth. I mean that. People with your fortitude and strength of character are rare. GO, FIGHT, WIN!!!

Now you are not only our hero but our celebrity too. Its a cool Colondar and I will be showing it to my doctor. You keep up the good work, we are in it with you. We tell all of our friends about your strength and resolve, your positive attitude. Guess you're just one special Dude. We are proud of you.

Worrisome things...

2009-10-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

There are a few things I've noticed lately. One is that my hair is growing back on my head. Another is that the rash is getting better. Both of these things worry me. If the chemo is not causing my hair to fall out and it's not causing a rash, then is it working on the cancer?!? I have a CT scan on 26 October to find out.

On the other hand (or leg), my leg hair is falling out. I'm bald on my knees, thighs and calves. The rest of the legs are hairy. I feel like the GEICO caveman. Well, I guess any, old caveman. I'm just picturing one wearing modern clothes.

Either the open pours from the hair loss or the dry skin from the one chemo drug is causing pain. It feels like sunburn with every step, as my pants/jeans rub against my legs. That's a boat-load of joy!

I'm not normal...

2009-10-09T04:49:00.000-07:00

My doctor said that I'm not normal. (Frankly, I'm surprised no medical expert has said that in the previous 39 years.) He didn't say it in so many words. You see, I had my routine oncology visit and while we were talking, he had this puzzled look and asked, "did you SHAVE your head?" "Yeah." "Weird. None of my other patients on (my chemo) have ANY hair."

Actually, in the past two weeks I've notice my hair seems to be coming back. And it's black! Watch...it'll be curly and I'll have an afro. If so, I'm going to grow it high and do a "Kid and Play" haircut!

The doctor went on with our typical questions. "So, how much Imodium are you taking?" "None." "Really?" So, I have Crohn's Disease and colon cancer, plus I'm on chemo and I don't have excessive diarrhea any more. I can vouch that I'm a weirdo! Well, maybe this is deceiving. I've had Crohn's for 20 years and diarrhea was the norm. So, what most people consider a problem while on chemo, I might be used to. Who knows.

One side effect I am starting to get...extremely dry skin (which leads to that rash). But lately it's been dry arm. The skin hurts to touch around my triceps...feels like sunburn. And the skin around my elbows is turning into "old man skin" as my cousin says. I'm wrinkly! So weird. Yes, I'm a freak! :-)

The tide turned tonight...

2009-09-29T18:36:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, I ventured to Raleigh, NC for the Pitt/NC State football game. I stayed with a friend of mine and also about 10 people from DC made the trip. So, I got to hang out with everyone. It was a lot of fun despite the rain throughout the entire game and the fact that Pitt had a big lead, but ended up losing. When I came home, I worked Monday and Tuesday. Monday night I went to see the movie, "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." I laughed a lot! Tonight I played softball along the Potomac River and was shivering in the cold wind.

So, I dealt with rain, meatballs, and wind all in the past few days. But, I loved every minute of it.

Tonight after softball, I made my ordinary Tuesday night trip to the grocery store to pick up my chemo staples (bland, soft food that is high in calories). While carting down the aisle, I lost it. The tears just kept coming. As you have read, I cry often. But tonight was different. This cry was because I don't want to head to chemo tomorrow. I have felt so good the past few days and now it has to end -- as it does every two weeks.

I normally try not to think about it at all and just show up at the infusion center pretending to be naive about what will occur (if that makes any sense). But it got the best of me tonight. Even as I type this, my eyes are soggy. It just sucks only feeling good for eight out of every 14 days.

They'rrrrrre Heeeee-eerrrre...

2009-09-23T19:14:00.000-07:00

Remember that line from the little girl in "Poltergeist?" (Trivia: She died of Crohn's Disease.)

Anywho...in the past five days, I've had old friends come to town from Philadelphia, Atlanta, Jersey City, and Berlin! I had the chance to spend time with three of the four (just too tired to squeeze everyone in...sorry, you-know-who.) Three just happened to be working in DC this week. Why did they all pick a week I was dead from chemo??? :-)

And now I want to return the favor and visit each of them! I see trips to Independence Hall, The Varsity, Madison Square Garden, and a concentration camp in my future. All four of those things are related to two of my favorite subjects...college sports and history. Sure the last one sounds morbid, but as you know, I cry all the time anyway, right?

What am I thinking?

2009-09-16T18:33:00.000-07:00

Do you wonder about that? Well, today was my long chemo day at the hospital. I woke up at 6:30am to leave by 7am for my 7:30am appointment. The first think that happens is that the nurse "accesses my port." In English, she sticks a needle into my surgically implanted device in my upper chest. We count to three together so I can take a deep breath. It's not that it hurts THAT much, but nobody wants a needle jammed into their breast.

She draws blood and then I wait and wait for the blood test results to see if I can even have chemo today based on my blood counts. When I was on chemo last year, I would just lay in the bed and wait. I no longer do that. I take the stairs down 4 flights to the donut shop. (I hate elevators and I need the calories...they work against each other, i know.) Then I talk to other patients. This go-around, I'm trying to remain more normal than before.

I felt bad today. One guy (maybe around 30-35) was in a chemo bed and it was his first time. He was holding his significant other's hand and his mom was there, too. I could tell he was scared. I thought about talking to him, but they drew their privacy curtain. If I see him again, I have to say hi.

The blood tests came back and I was on the low side, but still cleared for chemo. The pre-meds are first. Two Tylenol and then IV Benedryl. Talk about loopy! It's a great drunk feeling. (I'd like to say without the hangover, but I'd take a hangover over my next few days any time!)

Then the chemo starts. I'm asleep for most of it. I have to wake up to pee every so often. And when I do, my clothes are wet. It makes me sweat. And it's not like I get to shower to clean up...I take home the IV pump for 46 hours and I can't shower while that is still connected. Also, another cool effect of the drugs I get is that my calf muscles start to spasm. They actually look like aliens are trying to find their way out of my legs. It's so gross!

Later, at home (in other words, now)...I feel just plain weird. I have to keep food in my mouth most of the time or I know I'll puke. But the trick is finding the right foods because a lot of different things will make me puke. It's not easy.

I would love to be in the movie "Click" with Adam Sandler. I would fast forward the remote control 4 days and be back to almost normal. The chemo effects always linger until you completely stop the drugs, but after 4 or 5 days, they aren't so bad. So, sometimes I sleep because I'm worn out. Other times I sleep just to pass the time and not realize that I feel like complete crap.

I also try to do things to get my mind off of it. For instance, on Saturday morning, I'll try to meet up with my running group and run/walk. Also, tomorrow, I'll go to keep score for my one softball team. That takes my mind off everything. Sometimes, that is all you can do.

I like to think that I am doing everything I can. I received a note from my sister, Shannon, today. I'd like to share because it made me cry:

Do you remember when you said you liked the song, "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack? There is a line, "When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance." Dear brother, you are dancing.

Someone in the know...

2009-09-16T12:54:00.000-07:00

I was at the infusion center today for chemo. I overheard a girl talking about how her cancer is back as of this month. Based on the drugs she was taking, I knew it was colon cancer, so I introduced myself and started talking.

We both had stage IV colon cancer. And now we both have mets (it spread) to the liver and lungs. I told her, "stay right there. I want to show you something."

When I came back, she immediately said, "Oh you have a Colondar!"

"You've heard of it?"

"Of course. I'm on Colon Talk all the time!"

"Well, I'm in it!"

She looked at my page and said, "yes! I read your bio online and watched your video. I was about to order one, but I'll get one from you."

Does one person knowing of me make me famous? :-)

"Ditto"

2009-09-15T05:58:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and read my Facebook page. It was littered with quotes from Ghost and Dirty Dancing, so I knew right away what had happened. I'm sorry to hear about Patrick Swayze. Pancreatic cancer is one of the worst you can get. There are no symptoms, so usually when it's found, it's too late. But Swayze kept acting until the end. Gotta do what you want to do!

Also, I'll leave you with a light-hearted note... My debit card expired, so they sent me a new one. I cut up the old one and when I went to use the new one, the ATM said it was expired. I cut up the new one! Damn chemo brain!

Doh!

2009-09-04T16:11:00.000-07:00

OMG...so much has been happening this week that I totally forgot to post that I got my CT scan results last week! As you know, I had seven cancer nodules. A few got ever so slightly smaller and a few got ever so slightly bigger. The radiology report classifies this as no change or "stable disease." That is all the doc hoped for in the first two months. So, the chemo is doing what it's supposed to. In three months prior, we went from no cancer to seven nodules and in less than two months we stopped that growth of all of them. All good news.

Sure, I wanted shrinkage, but I'm greedy. But I live on. Or as I've stated in my previous softball blog (something I've kinda adopted as my new motto): "We have one more game." :-)

And I still owe you guys a blog about my trip to Little Rock for the Big Dam Walk. I'll get to that soon!

Colondar Video...

2009-09-04T09:58:00.000-07:00

One of our models, Miss October (Evelyn Reyes), has her on TV show "Boston Latino TV." They created this video...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDs5FZsTtvk

2010 Colondar has debuted! I'm Mr. May!

2009-08-31T20:51:00.000-07:00

I know you have been waiting all your life for it! Okay...well, probably not. But, the colon cancer awareness calendar that I'm in is now available for purchase. How do I get my hands on one, you ask? Well, there are two ways. One is to order online: http://www.colonclub.com/colondar.html

The other way (and my personal favorite) is to order one from me if you are local. That way, I can personalize it for you. Just email me and we'll figure out how to get it to you.

Online, they are $16.50. I'm asking $20 for the ones I'm selling. That's totally up to you, but it makes transactions easier and I'm donating the extra $3.50 to the Colon Club. (You can also donate more, if you like.)

You can read the stories of the models and (soon) view videos of each of us talking about our experiences: http://www.colonclub.com/2010models.html

On a personal note...Why am I selling these? Well, besides me being IN the calendar, my experience has been incredible. Colon cancer is normally an old person disease. I had joined cancer groups in DC and I was the only one with colon cancer. Then I went to the photo shoot and met 14 other people just like me. We were best friends from the instant we met. And I cannot put into words how valuable these new friends are now that I was re-diagnosed three weeks after meeting them all. Just being able to talk to people who have been there is so incredible. I want people in the future to be able to have the same experience I've had. And in order to do that, I have to help make sure the Colondar keeps going.

So, if you have the means, I'd really appreciate you helping out a tremendous organization.

It's so not fair...

2009-08-31T06:16:00.000-07:00

In a previous blog, I had posted that despite cancer being the worst thing ever, I was thankful for the friends I had made. Not long after I had my cancer surgeries, a mutual friend introduced me to "Cherie." She wasn't in good spirits and I was asked if I could help cheer her up by showing her how well I was doing. It worked. We started hanging out...basketball games, DVDS, shopping (she was the first person to actually find clothes for me that fit.) She was also my physical therapist as I was having herniated disc issues this past spring.

Well, her cancer came back and it was more aggressive. I had not seen Cherie since my neck surgery. Today I got a text from her cell phone. It was her sister writing to tell me that Cherie passed over the weekend. I've never had a good friend die before...this isn't easy to take.

"We choose to go to the moon...

2009-08-26T19:27:00.000-07:00

...and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard."

Okay, that was his brother's quote, but I like that one. I wanted to say something about Ted Kennedy's passing.

It was a very weird feeling to wake up early today, get to the hospital, sit down in my chemo chair and turn on my personal tv to see CNN with non-stop coverage of Ted Kennedy dying from cancer. I can't even continue this blog because I don't know what I think about it. It was just a strange feeling to be getting chemo as I heard about it.

Meet me at the animal shelter?

2009-08-23T16:21:00.000-07:00

It's time for another CAT scan. Well, not yet...Tuesday morning. I was around a cat the other night and he kept rubbing against me. He didn't say anything, so I guess he didn't see any signs of cancer. That's a good assumption, right? And he was a lot cheaper than Georgetown. He works for belly rubs. Hmmm...maybe the nurses do, too. I've never asked them.

This will be my first scan since the cancer has returned. We get to find out if the vomiting, diarrhea, hair loss, fatigue and rash are all worth it. I've had three rounds of the "hard stuff" and four rounds of the "easy drug." (Yeah, right.) Remember I told you that the rash was a sign that the chemo was working...well, we shall see. My scalp is itchy and hurts like heck. I know my head gets sore just from the hair loss. I think its because my pours are now hairless and exposed. Add to that, the rash...and it's painful. It even hurts to put my head on a pillow. But, if the cancer is shrinking, I'll deal.

The hope this time is for no change in the "nodules." This past two months was to fill up my body with chemo so the next rounds can blast things to Timbuktu. (Hopefully, not to any people in Timbuktu...just some dead land away from civilization.) As I've said in the past...shrinkage is a bonus!

Tournament -- Final Day...

2009-08-17T17:52:00.000-07:00

I don't even know where to begin. I guess I'll start at the beginning. "Well, let's see. First the earth cooled. And then the dinosaurs came, but they got too big and fat, so they all died and they turned into oil. And then the Arabs came and they bought Mercedes Benzes." Wait, no...that's from the movie, "Airplane!"

Saturday was the last day of this softball tournament and it was also the first time my mom was ever going to see me play softball. So, I really had two separate goals for the day: one was to win the entire tournament (as the goal has been all year) and the other was to at least have her witness one win. I just wanted her to see me happy because I knew that would make her happy, too.

We arrived at the fields around 10am for our first game at 11:15am versus whoever won the game currently being played. After everyone had gathered, I asked the team if anyone would do the honors of shaving my head (because it's falling out like crazy!) Ryan and Erin volunteered and I ended up with a mohawk for the day. Not what I planned, but hey...why not??

The # 4 seed in the tournament, Florida, ended up winning the right to play Pitt. Earlier in the season, they beat us to win the division title. Ugh. Our coach's pep talk included "we have one game to win. That's all. We'll worry about the rest later." And I kinda thought that too...for my mom. The game started off back and forth for a few innings as they grabbed a 5-3 lead after 3 innings. The score remained the same until they tacked on an insurance run in the 6th. So, we had one more at-bat in the last inning and trailing by three. It wasn't looking good as we only scored three in the previous six innings combined. First batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit (that was me), next batter -- base hit, next batter -- base hit. I kid you not. Eight straight hits to start the inning and we took an 8-6 lead. It looked like that Bugs Bunny cartoon where the Bronx Bombers got hit after hit as they rounded the bases in a conga-line. We were going crazy...I literally was hoarse for the rest of the day because of that inning. Florida had the final at-bats. But, I knew I was not going to let them get anything easily. How'd they do? Well, as the Soup Nazi would say: "No runs for you! NEXT!" What a comeback. My mom got to see us win and we were moving on in the tournament. SURVIVE and advance. Our coach smiled and told us, "we have one more game."

We then waited to find out our next opponent. It turned out to be the #1 seed, Villanova. We had just lost to them a few weeks prior, 9-1. Our team had a mental block against them and I was hoping we could fight through it. We batted first...we were out, 1, 2, 3. Then in the second inning, we had base-running errors and errors in the field and we found ourselves down 4-1 after the dust cleared in the 2nd inning. The following two innings were scoreless. We were just marching through the innings in what could be our final game. Luckily, the 5th inning arrived. We got some life in us and got some people on base and scored 4 to take the lead. As I arrived at 2nd base, the shortstop said to me, "You guys just never quit." I responded, "I can't." He just smiled...as he knew my situation. I don't think Villanova quit, either, but they couldn't manage to score again and we pulled off another comeback win, 7-4. SURVIVE and advance. Our coach smiled and told us, "we have one more game."

We had about 10 minutes to grab something to eat or use the port-a-potty or whatever before facing #3 Auburn. What the heck is up with us? We fell behind 3-1 after one inning. For some reason, other teams loved to jump out in front of us and we seemed helpless to stop it. I'm glad games last seven innings. I was comforted that we had just come back from deficits in the previous two games. And it worked that way again...we scored runs in the 3rd, 4th, and 5th innings as Auburn never scored after those three in the first inning. Our defense has to be the best in the league. I didn't mention it in my writings about the other two games, but we commit very few errors and make unbelievable plays. There were diving catches in the outfield, double-plays, diving stops by the infielders, complete splits by the firstbase girl! (Just like Geena Davis in "A League of Their Own.") Amazing stuff...you had to be there. I can't do it justice. I makes my job as the pitcher so nice! I just have to make the batters hit the ball. Anyhoo... The Auburn game was over as we won 7-3. SURVIVE and advance. Our coach smiled and told us, "we have one more game."

Next up? #8 Virginia who had sent us packing to the losers' bracket the previous weekend. How would we handle that fact? We exploded for five runs in the first inning. I was psyched! I finally had a lead to work with at the begging. Well, that didn't last long as I had my worst couple of innings of the tournament. It seemed like anything I threw they hit well. It must have gotten in my head a little, too. Virginia had a pitcher who is about the same age as Mr. Burns on "The Simpsons." I can joke about it because his jersey read "Fossil" on the back. Well, he batted and I knew he wasn't going to swing the bat. Sure enough, he didn't. But I threw three straight balls to walk him. That was so foreign to me. I walk a batter about once ever 10-15 games, I think. I still don't know what came over me there! Okay...back to the game. After two innings, we lead 8-6 because my team was hitting a groove with the bats. I got my head straight, our defense did it's thing, the bats continued and after six innings it was 13-6 in our favor. Now, give me a 7-run lead and one inning to pitch...and I'll take that every day of the week. I just threw pitches so they would hit them...they scored twice, but that wasn't nearly enough. Another win. We were still playing (four hours after the first pitch of the first game). SURVIVE and advance. Our coach smiled and told us, "we have one more game."

Well, look who we had next. #10 Maryland. The team that beat us twice last year in the tournament for our only two losses. They are traditionally one of the best teams because of all the local alumni. But, now we knew we could beat them because we came close twice last year. Our coached asked before the game "is anyone intimidated?" We all knew we were not. Our great hitting continued with three runs in the first inning. They scored twice that inning, though. We both added a run in the 2nd, none in the 3rd, and none in the 4th. After four, it was 4-3 with Pitt in the lead. This was too close for comfort. What is a cure for that? How about our biggest inning of the tournament? Okay, by this point in the day, chemo boy (me) was a little out of it. So, I cannot remember what exactly happened that inning. I know it included one of the following (the others were in other innings or other games)...either Ryan hit a bases-loaded double or Carrie did...or Brittany hit one to the fence...or John did. They all were hitting great, so I can't recall exactly. Blame the drugs. We ended up plating seven runs that inning. We added another two in the last inning to take a 10-run lead on the team everyone loves to root against. Remember what I said about the previous game and having a 7-run lead in the last inning? Well, a 10-run lead is a done-deal. I came to the mound and our coach said, "No smiling. We can't smile yet." But that's what I do! Ask anyone. If I'm pitching well, there is a smile on my face as I'm ready to release each pitch. I wasn't going to stop (but I knew what he meant.) They had the top of their batting order up. So, I knew they could score and I'd then get to the lesser hitters. Sure enough, they scored three with their big hitters. But then it was my time. No one else crossed the plate. A 13-6 win for Pitt. I have to mention the one play that is my absolute favorite of the weekend. There was a runner on first and the batter hit the ball right back to me. I immediately turned to 1st base where our firstbase girl, Erin was on the base (right where I know she always is). As I threw to first, it was fun to watch the runner saying to himself "oh crap" as he uselessly tried to get back to the base. The runners are never in time. Erin and I have turned that same play countless times and it never gets old to me! Where are we? Oh yeah...SURVIVE and advance. Our coach smiled and told us, "we have one more game."

You know where we are now? "You're in the jungle, baby." No, wait...that is Guns and Roses. We are in the championship game of the Capital Alumni Tournament. That's right...out of 70 teams. We are in the final game! Last year's tournament run (last year's blog) was amazing and we finished 3rd that year. We had just outdone "amazing." But you know what? We were about to play our 6th game in about six hours and 45 minutes. Let me run down where our lineup stood as the game was about to start:

Ryan -- twisted his ankle in an earlier game
Sam -- playing with a bad back
John -- awaiting an ambulance because of severe cramping and dehydration (he is fine today)
Mark -- playing with a sprained knee
Jake -- trying desperately to keep bandages on his knee to stop the bleeding and allow him to still play
Wayne -- cramping muscles
chemo boy (me) -- the only "healthy" male starter on the team.
One of the substitutes we put in to replace some of these guys had a fractured wrist! That should give you a clue as to how we were doing.

How was the James Madison team we were about to face? They had played two games earlier that day and had an hour(s) in between each game. They were ready to run. Not great odds. In the first inning, we each scored a run. Then nada for each team in the 2nd inning. We were hanging tough. (I'm not a New Kids fan.) Unfortunately, we were pretty much too tired to put together any type of offense. We didn't score for five straight innings. If only we could have held them silent, too. But they were just too good and too rested. JMU took an 8-1 lead before we (in our never-quit style) added a couple of runs in the last inning. Final score...8-3. Our streak had ended. But it was a hell of a run. We actually won more games than any team (including the champion) because of our route to the championship game. I mentioned our defense earlier. We played for 41 innings and in 25 of those the other team did not score.

A few years ago, the U of Pittsburgh beat Notre Dame in football on NBC tv. After the game, the quarterback said on live tv, "I'm so proud of this f***ing team." Well, our coach quoted that in the post-game speech. I was thinking the same thing he was. We have the best group of friends (who happen to be teammates). It's so great. You want to know what kind of teammates I have? The entire event had a food drive for charity. All 70 teams combined to donate 10,000 units of food. Pitt, alone, donated 1800 of those units. In doing so, we won a gift-certificate to a local bar/restaurant where we will hold our end-of-season party. It will be such a fun time...getting together and talking about how incredible our season was yet again.

As I was packing up my gear, two random girls from the Virginia team approached me and introduced themselves. "We heard your story...can we hug you?" OMG. I was a little shocked, but it was very sweet. For anyone who has been on chemo...you know hugs help a lot.

I cannot thank my team enough. You have no idea how much it helps to be laying in a chemo bed and having the past season to reflect on and the next season to look forward to. It's just helps so much. It's such motivation to get strong again. Although, next season...healthy or not, I'm told I have to keep my mohawk for good luck.

As I'm typing this, I have tears in my eyes. And I'm sure my mom does right now, too, as she is telling her friends about how great the weekend was for both her and me.

If you would like to see more photos from the day, a local free magazine covered it: "On Tap Magazine"

People read? Who knew?

2009-08-14T12:46:00.001-07:00

Apparently, people read cancer blogs from young people. Check it out! (Although, don't become fans of those blogs and forget about me. You have to dance with the guy who brung ya!)

http://www.newsweek.com/id/209319/page/1

Tournament continued....

2009-08-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

Sunday was going to be a hot one...97 degrees. At 9am, I headed to G-town for my shot to boost my white blood counts. This shot (Neulasta) gives me flu-like symptoms for a couple of days. I asked the nurse how soon this would take effect because I had a softball game in 2 hours. She said the softball should actually delay the reaction because I'd be running around diluting the effects. (That's some sweet answer!)

I got to the fields about an hour before our first game. I chugged a bottle of water about every half hour. I knew I had to stay hydrated to feel anything close to good. I'm not going to hold back...if you are reading this blog, you are interested in knowing what I go through and deal with. The diarrhea after my treatments is beyond severe. It's pure liquid. So, I had that obstacle to deal with. I knew I couldn't have an episode on the mound, so I made sure to go before and in-between the games. Now, try being in a port-o-potty when it's baking in the 100 degree sun. I don't know the physics, but I think that made it 450 degrees (451 would have ignited the toilet paper). So, I spent 15 minutes at a time in there sweating and needing more water. I almost had to keep the door open for the line to watch.

Back to the games... The first game was against Tufts and in the first inning, they got a couple of good hits and would have had a rally, but we had a great defensive play to gun down a guy trying to get a triple. They scored one on the play, but that was all they were meant to score the entire game. We weren't doing much better at the plate, though. I think it was the 5th inning and we were losing 1-0. I was at bat with a runner on 2nd base. Lately, I have lost strength (due to neck surgery and now chemo), so I was not hitting too well. A song from "3 Doors Down" was going through my mind as I stepped into the batter's box:

Please, for the one time
Let me be myself
So I can shine
in my own light
Let me be myself.

Sure enough, I did what I do and hit the ball blooping down the right field line for a single. We tied the game. A pinch-runner came in for me (which was a relief, I was so tired). As I got back to the bench, a player from another team (who I really admire) said to me, "you are by far my favorite player to watch out here." (That's out of about 1400 players in the tournament.) That meant a lot. The runner for me came around to score on a hit and after the inning, we led 3-1. That's how the game ended. I'm not sure if anyone pitched a shutout in this tournament, but I felt great pitching a 1-run game against a good team. We had "SURVIVEd and advanced" to the next round. (See photo at bottom)

The next game was against Virginia. They are always a good team because they have so many alums in the area. Our team started out continuing our hitting and scoring 3 runs in the 1st. I was excited. ...well, until I saw UVA start hitting the ball. They had tied the score at 3 before I could get anyone out. After two innings, we were down 8-3. Ugh. And after three innings they had 10 runs. I had a hunch what the problem was. I had talked to the pitchers who had played UVA prior to us. They told me how I "should" pitch to them. I scrapped that and went back to my way of pitching. UVA didn't score again the rest of the game. Dammit. I should have just gone with "Shawn ball" and not listened to anyone. I won't make that mistake again. Pitt didn't give up and we closed the gap to 10-8 before getting our last out. I was standing on 3rd when it happened. So, close.

I walked off the field completely drained. I don't think I could have played another inning (but I would have somehow). I rested a little and then rode home. About 6:30pm, the flu took effect. I was puking it all up. But, I made it through the games and that was all that mattered to me.

This Saturday continues the double elimination tournament with us in the loser's bracket. We need to win 5 games in a row to win the whole thing. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? I had an 11% chance of living. What do you think is my answer?

Softball Tournament -- 2009 style

2009-08-08T17:25:00.000-07:00

As you may remember from last year, I love playing in the DC alumni tournament. Last season, five weeks after liver surgery, I helped my team finish in 3rd place out of 70 teams. Well, today was the first day of that tournament this year.

Wouldn't you know it, today and tomorrow are pretty much my worst days on my chemo two-week cycle. Normally, this weekend, I'm asleep the entire weekend. Last night, I practiced 200 pitches, came home, took a nerve pill for the jitters and slept 11 hours. I woke up this morning and went to the fields (after puking once to make me feel better).

My Pitt team was seeded #16 out of 70 teams. In the first game, we played the #48 seed, so my coach benched me. No sense wearing me out when they might need me later. My team went on to win 17-2 over U of Dayton. Next up was U of Arizona (the #17 seed). I got the starting pitching nod. I was a little worried that some weird chemo side effect would hit me in the middle of the game. I chugged as much water/Gatorade the whole day as possible. I heard that dilutes the side-effects of everything. It must have worked. I felt like I had unbelievable control the whole game. Even the couple of times I let the other guys gets hits, my teammates made some unbelievable fielding plays (Mark over the shoulder and Erin stretching to be about 8-feet tall come to mind). We won 16-3 and that put us in the Sweet Sixteen of the winners bracket starting up again tomorrow.

The last two innings of the game, I was holding in the pee like crazy (see chugging water/Gatorade comment earlier). I ran to the port-o-potty. When I cam out, our team had finished taking our team photo. :-( I missed it. But the team mom was having none of that. When she heard, she gathered everyone again and put me front and center for the photo. (I don't have it yet, or I would post it here.)

I came home a little bit after my game ended. The rest of the teams stayed at the fields enjoying the other softball games, drinking and eating, and playing games like bocci ball and corn-hole toss. But, for me, it's a night of trying to eat anything (due to mouth sores) and trying not to vomit.

Tomorrow at 9am, I will start my day with a shot at the hospital to boost my white blood counts. This shot gives me flu-like symptoms for a couple of days. My only hope is that the "flu" stays away from me until after I can pitch in my games on Sunday. All I want to do is help my team win, but it seems that it's never as easy as just that. I just hate it so much. So, I hope you'll be rooting for me tomorrow because being sick AND losing would be the worst. Being sick and winning...now that, I can tolerate.

(Sorry for any errors in spelling and grammar. I'm not feeling like re-reading this tonight.)

Am I Samson?

2009-08-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, probably not. I mean, no one poked out my eyes after I cut my hair today. But I did have a servant, also known as a barber, shave my locks. (Although, I'm sure she wasn't Delilha's servant. Does anyone know if Delilha's servant was Korean?) Anyhoo...I HAD to have my hair cut today because it was falling out like crazy (see the photo below of my sink this morning.)

Afterwards, I pitched in my work league. In the first two innings I gave up 11 runs. What the WTF? I was worried my pitching ability was left on the cutting room floor (nice choice of words by the part-time actor). But, I settled down and shutout the other team for the next several innings. We came back and took a 13-11 lead to the bottom of the last. They scored three. Ugh. :-( But, at least I know I can still pitch...just need some hairless practice to get my balance back.

Check out the new "high and tight."

Wake up!

2009-08-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I attended a type of event that I had never been to in the past...a wake. As you may know, I am part of a running group for cancer survivors called "Cancer to 5K." Helen was a member of the team the season before I joined. By the time I joined, her Leukemia had come back, so I never got to meet her. I came close one time as I drove to Johns Hopkins to visit her. But, when I got to the hospital, I was told she was released the day before. That was the way it was for her for her until eventually she spent her last several months there.

Last month, after all the clinical trials were exhausted, she decided to go on Hospice. That was a Thursday. She passed Friday. Helen was 21.

I didn't know what to expect at a wake. It was held at an Irish Pub in Arlington where she used to hostess. The pub closed the entire place to the public just for Helen's party and there were a lot of people there. One I met flew in from London. I sat at a table with other "Cancer to 5K" team members. While we chatted, Helen's mom sat down and greeted us. She asked, "who are you?" :-) After we told her, she said that Helen loved running with the team. She would work as a hostess until 2am Friday nights and be at the runs at 8am Saturday mornings.

In the back of the pub, there were lots of photos of Helen growing up. One, in particular, stood out to me, so I asked about it. It was her giving "the bird" to the camera. I thought it odd to put that in the display. Her mom proceeded to tell us a story...

Helen would ALWAYS do that to the camera. Their refrigerator was covered in photos like that. The Friday she passed, the Hospice nurse said, "the only thing keeping her alive is the ventilator. If we turn that off, it will take about an hour for the oxygen to leave her body." (That sentence hit me hard and I was amazed at how easily her mother was telling this story.) So, they turned off the ventilator. It was over two hours later and she was still breathing. The nurse said it was due to her youth. "No," her mom replied. "It's because she never did anything she was told to do." Helen's brother started laughing, but it wasn't at the joke. He told his mom to look at Helen's hand. Helen was giving the finger. She died a couple minutes later at 1:51pm. Her mom pointed out this time because 151 was Helen's favorite shot of alcohol.

So, at the family and friends gathering at the house, they purchased a couple bottles of 151. But then realized, they didn't have any shot glasses. No worries...what they did have was PLENTY of pill cups from all the meds she had to take. So, they all did a shot to Helen out of a pill cup. :-)

Up yours, Helen!

I was looking at the calendar...

2009-07-30T19:04:00.000-07:00

I mentioned my grandma in a recent post (the one about the turkey smell filling the house). Nine years ago on 31 July, "Nana" passed away. She was 89. I miss her a lot. We had a lot in common...both short...auburn hair...tough when we have to be...and neither learned to ride a bicycle. Go figure.

She constantly asked me when I was little (errr...young...I've always been little), "do you want something to eat? Can I make you something?" I don't know what she would do now that I don't have an appetite!

Like I said, I miss her. But, she was smart and understanding, so I think she's okay with me not wanting to see her again anytime soon...

Innn-teresting Haircut...

2009-07-30T06:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I've been watching the sink religiously each morning and there was never more than one hair. Today there were a few. Does that mean it has begun? Ugh.

I'm such an interesting guy...I should have an interesting haircut, right?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLdKU4JCYqg

I had a dream...

2009-07-26T10:58:00.000-07:00

Nope, it wasn't as big as Martin Luther King's dream. It just involved me.

I've been sleeping a lot the past two days and when I woke up from one nap last night, the dream was very vivid. I was at my grandma's house when I was about 10 years old. It was Thanksgiving, and the whole house smelled like turkey cooking in the oven. Why is this even relevant? Because I want that time back. All I had to do then was eat the turkey. Last night when I woke up, I had to take some anti-nausea pills as well as some steroids. Instead of wanting to eat Thanksgiving dinner, I just didn't want to throw up. I managed not to, but it's a struggle sometimes.

Sometimes, I don't stop myself from sleeping when the drugs make me really tired. That could be because it gives me an escape for a hour or so at a time.

Let's face it...

2009-07-22T18:46:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I don't startle anyone when you see me in person. Here is the beginning of my rash. It will probably get worse...

Re-cap of round one of chemo...

2009-07-21T16:56:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow is round two of chemo, so let's see what's happened during the two weeks:

The first day in the hospital was LONG. That was Wednesday and I was there from 7:30am until 5:30pm. Ugh. That first evening I had a special visitor...one of the Colondar models (Joe) was in town from Illinois. That was pretty cool to have someone over to the house to talk with who has been in my shoes. He said that I looked "great" for the first day of chemo. The next day, I had a friend stay with me all day to make sure I didn't have any super-fun (i.e. strange) reactions to the drugs. I was fine, but I mostly slept while she watched tv. It was just nice to have people there. That night, I went to watch my softball game and keep score. I even went out for food afterwards.

On Friday, I reported to the hospital to have my IV disconnected at 3:30pm. By 6:30pm, I was at the softball field ready to play. I only played about half the game. Afterwards, I was extremely jittery. So much so, that I had to go home and take some nerve pills. Of course, sitting still at the hospital that afternoon, my pulse was over 100. So, I don't know what it got up to playing softball.

On Saturday, I did my "flu shot." It's actually a shot to boost my white blood counts. But it actually GIVES me flu-like symptoms for a couple of days, so I call it my "flu shot." Isn't that just more fun than a sack of monkeys? (Shut up...you've never seen a barrel of monkeys, either, and it's my blog, so I'm saying sack.)

On Sunday, I had another visit with another special visitor. I went to lunch with a girl who was in the Colondar this current year (Trish). It was great to meet another local person who's been in my situation. The bad part about lunch was that mouth sores had begun, so it was hard to eat anything. Also, I was SO tired. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I got home and my cousin was watching golf. Perfect! I was asleep within seconds!

Monday, I got up at 6:15am and was at work by 7:30am. My co-workers commented that my eyes were half-way shut. I have no idea how I drove to work. I probably used the Force. By noon, I was "awake" and strong as a wookie. (Okay, maybe just an Ewok)

The rest of the time between treatments involved going to work six out of ten days in the pay-period and having mouth sores for about a week. I think I lost a few lbs because I couldn't eat. So, when my mouth is good, I have stuff in the food to gain it back before the sores return. I played in five more softball games (winning 3, losing 1, and 1 no-decision). And the rash...well, it's getting pretty bad. That is now the worst part of chemo for me. I only threw up once and the diarrhea was non-existent. But the rash is ugly and painful (and itchy). "Ever have a white-head on your eyeball?!?!?" (Know that movie?) No hair-loss yet...that comes with this next treatment. Happy-happy Joy-joy!!! Stay tuned...

For good measure...

2009-07-19T22:37:00.001-07:00

Why does my hospital measure my height in inches and my weight in kilograms? I have chemo brain, so it's hard enough trying to remember if I live in the United States or Europe!

Pink socks...

2009-07-16T19:57:00.001-07:00

After my last blog, I thought I'd follow-up with a light-hearted one. At my softball game tonight, the other pitcher was wearing pink socks. Our catcher asked him why. He said that one of their teammates was on chemo and it was in support. Our catcher thought, "What a coincidence. One of our teammates is on chemo, too." And, by the way, he's the one who just beat your team.

I can joke because I talked to him after the game and his teammate had breast cancer, but she is off chemo and has no evidence of disease. :-)

Have you seen the movie...

2009-07-16T16:48:00.000-07:00

..."White Men Can't Jump?" Billy said to Sydney, "You would rather look good and lose than look bad and win."

I have always kept this quote in mind when I was diving for balls and coming off the field bloody and sweaty. Now, it's time for me to translate this mentality to off the playing field.

You see, my new drug (Erbitux) comes with a lovely little side-effect in 87% of the patients. That side-effect is a rash on the face/neck/scalp/torso/back. It looks exactly like acne, but it's not. Acne treatments make it worse. And a bonus is that it's painful! My back is now covered in sore, pus-filled bumps and yesterday it started to appear on my face. It's not too bad there...yet.

Have you ever had one of those pimples right on the edge of your lip where the skin starts? Those hurt like a mother... Well, I have about a half-dozen, now. My nose feels like it does when I have a cold and have been blowing it a lot and the skin is rubbed raw and cracking. My forehead is starting to feel like my nose.

I looked up some photos of cases online. Do yourself a favor and do not do that. In the articles, people were talking about how they worked night-shift so no one would see them. Trust me, some cases are worse than any acne you can imagine.

But, here is where my quote comes in... Studies have shown that the more your skin reacts to the chemo, the more it works against the cancer. So, I'd rather "look bad and win." (I just have to keep telling myself that.)

Another fun quote...this time from Seinfeld... Kramer had taken up smoking and experienced a lifetime of smoking in 72 hours:

"Look away. I'm hideous!"

Talked to my oncologist liver surgeon...

2009-07-15T14:55:00.000-07:00

My doc from Hopkins gave me a call today to talk about my recent CT scan and my plan for treatments. He agrees with the course of action, so I'm pleased with that. He said that the new drug, Erbitux, has shown good results. (Although, there is a damn pimply-rash on my face that comes with it.) Since none of this is an exact science (they are, afterall, only "practicing" medicine), we'll continue this chemo and then do a CT scan after 4 or 6 cycles to see what has happened.

Later in the conversation, I mentioned that he was well thought of among the people at the Colondar shoot. The first thing he said about the Colondar group is that "they are a remarkable group of people." I mentioned how the people I met there have helped inspire me to continue to play softball through my treatments. He continued, "Oh, and you are another remarkable one. We can't slow you down." It's nice to be associated with that group, now. :'-) He also said he has a spot for the calendar in his office.

Btw, speaking of softball...I have not lost a game since returning from neck surgery. I'm 7-0 with one no-decision. Think I can keep that going all year???

It's a new world for me...

2009-07-15T06:30:00.000-07:00

Two months ago, I met a girl online and did my usual confession of being on chemo. I was a little startled with her reply that she was also on chemo. She doesn't have one of the mainstream cancers (breast, colon, lung, etc.), so I cannot remember what it's called. Since she lives about an hour away, we have only met up a few times. She goes to Johns' Hopkins for her chemo embolizations to her liver.

I hadn't heard from her in over a week (which is not unusual.) Last night, I got a text from her. It turns out that during her 2nd embolization, she went into cardiac arrest (age 43). Now she is in Little Rock getting vaccinations and radiation.

Earlier in the day, I received an email about an upcoming wake for a girl (age ~22) who was in my survivor running group. She decided on Hospice and a day later passed.

It used to be that I would just "wake" up in the morning and maybe later do some "cardio" at the gym. I was ignorant to everything going on around me. Now that I have ties to it, I'm front and center to all of it. I don't want to be, but there is no choice any more.

"Puke. There's a funny word...

2009-07-12T06:21:00.001-07:00

Can I use that?" Well, I made it from Wednesday all the way until Sunday before letting the nausea get to me. I feel a little bit better now that I released it all. Ugh. The hardest part, for me, is brushing my teeth. Sometimes the toothbrush hits a certain part of my tongue and everything is triggered. There is no stopping it once it starts. Well, all for now. I'm off to re-film a segment of a short film I did months ago. Can't rest on my vomit, right?

Almost through one round...

2009-07-10T11:42:00.000-07:00

I'm about an hour away from having my chemo bag unhooked. So far, so good. I have not vomited at all and no diarrhea. The only things to happen so far are: weird muscle spasms, hiccups (only for minutes, not days this time), and some bad tastes in my mouth that require immediate candy or gum.

I have been napping a lot, but that also could be from having a stupid chemo bag attached to me. It doesn't make you want to get out and do stuff. But, speaking of getting out and doing stuff...I'm about to head to the hospital to disconnect this and then I'm off to PLAY in my softball game!

I don't have a theme tonight...

2009-07-07T20:03:00.000-07:00

Most of my blogs have a theme. Maybe I'm not thinking straight. I've done a great job the past two weeks blocking out what is about to happen. I really haven't spent much time at all thinking about it. Sure, I did the preliminary stuff...getting my prescriptions, grocery shopping for "bomb shelter food" (canned/boxed goods), and lining up my network of friends to spend time with. But, for the most part, I did what made me happy.

Between the time I returned from neck surgery and the start of chemo, I pitched five games of softball and won all five. (It wasn't the best competition, but on the other hand, the opponents haven't gone through what I have the past two years.)

I'm anxious to get this thing underway and become closer to being done. I just hope the side effects are tolerable. Ugh. I plan to lift weights, continue to play softball, work (I have to or I might not get paid...but that will be another blog.) and also do things with people (which I didn't do too much of last time.

There will be three treatments between now and 7 August. The goal is to stay healthy and active during that time. After that, I have a tournament to win...

Chemo Theme Song...

2009-07-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

Say what you want about the artist, but the lyrics are pretty good for me right now:

http://www.mtv.com/videos/miley-cyrus/348983/the-climb.jhtml

I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I'm not breaking

I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on

'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb, yeah!

Colondar -- Day 4

2009-07-05T17:36:00.001-07:00

I awoke on the last day of the Colondar shoot, but instead of showering and packing right away, I headed over to spend some time with the first wave of people due to depart for the airport. I discovered that Dom and David never slept. They stayed up all night and went for a kayak ride early in the morning. That was a pretty cool idea. The dinning room table that was constantly covered with food, still had food on it, but it wasn't the same. What once was freshly made lasagna, fajitas, or BBQ was now lonely packets of Frito-Lay snacks that most had ignored the previous days.

The morning was really calm. There was a sadness mixed with a happiness. I guess the combination of those two produce a calm. Everyone was scheduled to depart Lake George in waves to the airport. I took a stroll around the house. I walked into the living room where we all gathered the first night to get acquainted and play games. It was also the same room we gathered to hear Kathy's story, see our slide presentation, and tell our favorite moments. There was no laughter, talking, or video in the room, now...just memories.

The quiet ended quickly as Molly started a round-up in a frenzy! "Okay, everyone who is leaving first, sit down and sign this pile of thank you notes. Do NOT get out of order, so help me!" (I'm paraphrasing.) Cards were passed around for everyone who helped throughout the weekend. They were for the people who gave us the run of their homes, photographers, editors, chefs, little helpers, elves, fairies, etc...

The clock moved quickly and it was time for the first carpool to drive to the airport. Everyone gathered outside of the garage that was used for the photo shoot. Now, there was no more photography equipment or computers. It was only a home for the recycling bins.

Krista was driving the first car filled with Trish, Jill, Joe, David, and Dom. It was sad to watch everyone step into the van. We knew we wouldn't be seeing them for a while and it was so much fun to have them around! Simon jumped on the hood of the car, face down and spread eagle. He did it in jest, but we all wanted to do it for real and make the goodbyes not have to happen. The car went up the driveway, leaving behind a bunch of waving people. That was hard and that was only the first set of goodbyes. Being in the last group to depart, I'd have to do this a couple more times.

There was a little bit of time between trips, so I grabbed a shower and packed. This next round was Andrew driving Eve, Candace and Lori. Greaaaat... another set of goodbyes. One of the goodbyes that stands out to me was one I shared with Lori. She had told us the story of the extremely hard time she had being diagnosed at age 16 and being treated like an outcast by her friends. So, when I hugged her, I said, "I wish I could have given you this hug when you were 16." I think I almost made her cry. I didn't mean to...honest!

Now all that remained were my carload and the organizers who were sticking around for another day. This wasn't planned, but all the stage IV survivors were still there. Below you'll find a photo of Todd, Erika, Heidi and me each showing how many years in remission we were. I say "were" because now I have to start over. I'll never catch them, but I'm going to compete because I don't like to lose!

Finally, it was "that" time. I had to get in my car and secure my neck brace (remember that thing?) Todd and Tammy drove Eric, Heidi and me. There was constant chatter the whole ride. I dosed off for part of it. When I woke up, we were back in cell phone range and I checked my messages. I had a text from a friend who had just done a colonoscopy and it was clean as a whistle. I thought it appropriate to share that news with the car.

Once at the airport, we said goodbye to Todd and Tammy. Heidi's flight was first, so I sat at her gate with her and chatted. The boarding call came and I waited around until I could no longer see her going down the tunnel to the airplane. I walked over to Eric's gate and he wasn't there. Was his flight earlier than I had thought? I was bummed...I didn't get to say so long to him. I went to the airport sports bar and as luck would have it, Eric was there watching baseball. I hadn't missed him! He told me that he had already given away a 2009 Colondar that Molly stocked us all with before she let us leave Lake George. (Me? I was a little hesitant to hand out anything in an airport because I once had a flight delayed because someone handed out fliers. You know...the whole, "did you accept anything from someone unknown to you?")

I had a little food with Eric and then walked him to his gate. His plane boarded and there I was...at the airport alone. The last one to leave. I had a pit in my stomach. Guess what came next? If you don't know, you haven't been following my blogs. The four-day Colondar shoot was over. We all had new friends, but we would never have that same type of experience again. It was once in a lifetime. And I want other survivors to have this experience, too. So, when I advertise the Colondar in September, please help by buying one (or 30)!

Colondar -- Day 3 (second half)

2009-06-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in telling the story of the Colondar shoot weekend, but I had some other stuff on my mind lately. ("Jeepers, Wally," I wonder what that was.)

After dinner and the activities on the porch, we settled in the living room for a video presentation by Troy. Since everyone was gathered in one place, it was the perfect chance for Andrew to play the song I suggested and he learned earlier that day. I introduced it. "There is a song by the band, Wideawake, for the Livestrong Foundation that I thought it was appropriate for us. This is Andrew's version..." I know at least one person was crying during the song. Strangely, I was not. Go figure.

The original song can be found here:

http://www.livestrong.org/site/c.khLXK1PxHmF/b.2662157/k.BC61/Maybe_Tonight_Maybe_Tomorrow.htm

The encore to the song was Troy's presentation on the computer. He had taken photos from each of our shoots and set them to music. Each person had a head shot and a shot that might be the one used in the Colondar. After that round of pics, we got a good laugh from other photos that showed each of us in a funny manner (complete with a humorous saying.) The music in the show could not have been more appropriate. It was a song by Nickel Creek ("When you Come Back Down") and the lyrics start with:

You gotta leave me now.
You gotta go alone.
You gotta chase a dream...
One that's all your own.

The song can be found here: http://video.aol.com/video-detail/nickel-creek-when-you-come-back-down/3840782686

The presentation played in a continuous loop. Most of us watched it over and over...either because we we in awe of how good the photos turned out of us "non-models suddenly become models" or we wanted the shoot to start all over because we didn't want it to end. I am sad just thinking about that time and knowing we had to leave each other the next day.

As the neighbors dwindled out of the house, we were left with the models and crew all sitting around. Everyone took turns telling their favorite part of their time at Lake George, NY. I went second. "I'm not sure if this is my favorite part, but it sticks out in my mind. The first day, you were all so happy that we have some stage IV survivors here that are approaching 10 years of survival. It made me think that it's not as common as I had thought. So, during the first day, I doubt anyone noticed, but I was a little depressed. The next day, I was talking with David and he said that his stage IV friend who passed away had a look that he wasn't going to make it and that I didn't have that look. I never want to have that look." As I said that, David was standing beside me and as he went to hug me, I knocked his beer out of his hand and all over Jill and the floor. Smooth. Some of the favorite moments that everyone else shared have been covered throughout my coverage of the photo shoot, so I won't repeat.

The mood was about to be lightened as we were all told to wait in the living and not leave the house. Molly, Hannah, Sara, and Krista locked themselves in a room while scheming something. I think we waited four weeks for them to come out that night, but it was worth it. The lights dimmed and we were all treated to a skit show. They reviewed the exciting parts of the weekend by making fun of everyone. In my scene, Molly had gauze taped to her neck because of my recent neck surgery. The scene that stands out to me was one re-enacting Molly carrying around her baby in the "front bib holder" (I'm not sure what it's called, but that's what us single guys with no kids call it.) Instead of carrying a baby with a bottle, she literally put Simon in it and carried him drinking a beer. Wow. Great show!

As the last of the chocolate fondu was being licked off of Lori's and Jill's faces, people started heading back to their rooms to pack and get some sleep. The adventure would end the next day.

Colondar Models...

2009-06-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

One of the models has a blog of her own. She posted headshots of all of us. So, if you want to see better shots of "these people" I've been talking about...

http://eveonmymind.blogspot.com/2009/06/colondar-weekend.html

On the page:

Eve (MA) and Trish (MI)
Me (VA) and Lori (AR)
Joe (IL) and Jill (NJ) -- almost like Jack and Jill, but slightly different
Heidi (FL) and Eric (MN)
Dom (CA) and David (IA)
Candace (IL) and Andrew (NY)

It's ba-aack... :-(

2009-06-24T08:52:00.001-07:00

Did you miss it? I sure did not. But some cancer has surfaced again.

I was at the Nationals/Red Sox game last night and my oncologist called. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" "I'm at the game." He paused. "The CT showed something, didn't it?" I asked. "Yes. Come in and see me tomorrow morning."

So, I was home all night not knowing what to think. Surprising, without drugs, I had the best night's sleep in weeks! I'm weird.

At the appt. today, I was with my cousin and my neighbor. The doctor walked in and said, "well, it doesn't look good. Let me show you on the computer." The computer didn't work so he had to leave the room to get a portable one. We were all just sitting there on the edge of our seats. He came back with a computer.

The CT scan showed 4 small nodules of cancer in the liver, right around where my previous liver resection was. He is going to call my oncologist liver surgeon at Johns Hopkins, who is the best there is. So, I'm happy with that.

Also, there were 3 small nodules on my lungs (2 on one lung and 1 on the other.) They are too small to do radiation treatments. I guess that is a good thing.

What's the course of action? I'm going back on chemo starting in two weeks. I will have the 5FU (48 hour pump bag I carry around), Irinotecan (makes me lose my hair) and a new drug that is an antibody. I'll get this treatment every two weeks with no definite end date. If I respond well, some of the nodules could shrink or be gone by the next scan (2 months or so). I'll keep at it until they are all gone again.

My oncologist said, "It's not good, but I said that about you twice before and you proved me wrong both times." I asked him "If you had two patients...one who had the diagnosis I had 1.5 yrs ago and one with the diagnosis, now...which is better?" "Definitely the diagnosis, now." So, that's good.

It sucks that I have to do the chemo again. I'll be fatigued, lose my hair (I HATE that), and have the usual vomiting/diarrhea bouts here and there.)

This time around, I'm not scared like last time. I know what to expect. It sucks, but I can do it. Just keep in your thoughts, "respond to the drugs quickly!"

Also...my plan is to stay more active than the last time. I want to be out with people to pass the time more easily. Plus, I have a crap-load of brand new friends from the Colondar who have been through this and I can call anytime.

Work people -- I'll be back to being at work only a few days every pay-period
Pitt people -- Dammit! I wanted to pitch in the tournament. But, I'll be there making sure you give it your all on every play.
Colondar people -- keep your phones turned on

I left the baseball game in the 5th inning last night after I heard the news. I was about one foot from the exit gate and I looked down. There was a heads up Penny. :-) Plus, check out the shirt I was wearing when I heard the news...

Colondar -- Day 3 (first half)

2009-06-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

Oh crap! I forgot to mention on day 2 that after dinner a cake was presented. It was Candace's birthday. (See photo at the bottom).

The next morning, I woke up late because of the heavy cake. (It was either that, or the couple of Oxycontin I took for my neck pain.) I grabbed some lunch and just kinda went from person to person chatting. As a few of us were on the lawn over-looking the lake, our services were requested in the garage. David was in the midst of his photo shoot, but was having trouble relaxing and smiling. Silly me was trying to think of something funny to say to him. But, before I could, four people had their shirts off to entertain him. So, there stood three girls in bras and Andrew (he goes bra-less). I do have photos of this, but they told us before we got there, "what happens at Lake George, stays at Lake George." (I just saw the movie, "The Hangover" and they have a takeoff of this: "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Except for herpes. That sh## will follow you everywhere.")

After the shirts came back on, I played a cancer-related song on the internet for Andrew. He liked it and said he could learn it and play it later that night. Cool! (I wish I was musical.) So, I let him do whatever it was he does to learn music.

Dinner that night was going to be all the usual suspects plus a bunch of neighbors who were helping out by offering guest rooms, kayaks, etc. for our stay. Before dinner started, we were treated to a story by Kathy. Kathy is a resident of Lake George and was diagnosed with colon cancer at age 26. (Oh yeah, I should mention...she'll be 86 next month!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTDvYqxZSSY Wow. What a lady! (I love her line at the time 6:40 in that video!)

After some picture-taking, we all gathered for dinner on the porch. It was a fantastic sunset that evening over the lake. Dinner was excellent (as usual, Tammy and Todd). While everyone was still seated, Hannah got up to talk. She was carrying some pages from Colondars past. Hannah talked a little about why they do the Colondar and then proceeded to talk about past models who have left us. She got through it, although I don't know how. I could not have and I never even knew these people. Our attention was then drawn to Troy's 15 year-old daughter standing down the hill on the dock. With bagpipes in hand, she began playing. She ended with "Amazing Grace" in honor of the Colondar models we lost. Then I lost it. (I warned you that I wasn't done crying.) David was next to me and I shared the longest man-hug of my life with him. You don't want to think this way, but the thought crossed my mind, "would I be on that list sometime?"

That's all for now. The keyboard is getting wet. I'll regroup and post part 2 of day 3 some other time.

Wow, just wow...

2009-06-18T18:31:00.001-07:00

For the past three days I was taking a leadership class about Lewis and Clark in Harper's Ferry, WV. On my way home, I got a text from my cousin: "Dude, you are getting lots of packages. What? Are you running an internet business?" I had only ordered a t-shirt recently, so I had no idea what he was talking about. I called him and he gave me the addresses they came from...NJ, AR, NY, IL and MA. Oh, yeah...colon cancer survivors. What are they up to? I had about two hours to ponder this while driving home. The only thing I could come up with was that I was having my CAT scan tomorrow.

Sure enough, they were all "good wishes" cards, things dealing with cats, or dealing with the procedure. (Although, the one piece of literature that I'm sure Lori had a hand in is more appropriate if I was donating at a fertility clinic.)

Hannah, Sarah, and Lori were out on the town in Little Rock. (Isn't that called "Bangin' in Little Rock?") They carried a sign reading, "Go Shawn" and sent me photos of everyone out that night holding the sign...even a little league team. Why were 12 yr olds at a bar? Are there no Dairy Queens in Arkansas?

Here is a photo of some of the things. I'll leave it high resolution, so you can click on it and zoom in.

Thanks guys! (I think they will look at me funny in the waiting room with my new magazine!)

One other thing...just for you Colondar peeps...

During my leadership class, they talked about how Lewis and Clark's team bonded so well because they had to go through hardships together. I raised my hand and pointed out that you don't have to go through hardships TOGETHER to be able to bond. Going through hardships and then finding each other works just as well. I think this proves it. :'-)

Colondar -- Day 2 (2nd half)

2009-06-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

Before I could remove my makeup, I had some more business to take care of. Sarah was our video person for the shoot and she was taping interviews with each model. It was kind of like "the confessional booth" in a reality show or on "The Office." She sat us down in the corner of her bedroom, so we could have privacy. (Too many jokes) The questions we were given weren't a surprise, as we had answered some of them in our Colondar application. It was simply a way for us to tell our story and have it online for others to view us as something other than still photographs. We are actual people who each have an amazing story. You know, it's weird. My interview was about 10 minutes long and almost a complete blur to me. I have no idea what I even talked about. I say "almost a complete blur" because when I came to the question, "how did this affect your friends and family?" I started to break down. (As I mentioned on the Day 1 blog, I wasn't done crying for the weekend.) I could not get the lump out of my throat for the rest of the interview. It really helped that every time I looked over at Sarah, she was nodding and giving a look of understanding. Sarah's job was a difficult one, but one that had to be pretty cool, too. Afterwards, I talked about my tearing up on camera and she said that almost everyone was crying in their video (If you are one of those people who made out to "Schindler's List" at the movie theater, then this probably won't affect you. Otherwise you'll be moved.) It turns out that only one person didn't get emotional during her taping. (But Jill said she was drunk.)

I dried my eyes, went to change clothes, and then headed back to the main house for lunch. It turned out that several of the models were going to take kayaks and canoes to an island in Lake George and eat some packed lunches. Because of my neck problem, I opted for the canoe. The canoe crew consisted of Lori in the front (who admitted she wasn't too strong of a paddler), Evelyn in the middle (trying not to think about her aquaphobia), and me in the back (with one side of my body having no strength.) So, we aimed for the island (and instead would have gone in circles had the kayaks not come over from time to time to guide us.)

Once on Saint Agnes Island (Agnes was my grandma's name), the seven of us shared our stories. Some people have been through some unbelievable things. I didn't do a survey, but I'm willing to bet that most of us there this week thought that most of the others had a more difficult path than he/she did. That's mathematically impossible, but you manage to get through whatever you have to. If there were things you didn't have to go through, you would have thought you weren't capable of doing them. (I hope that makes sense.) All the sagas started off sad, but most peaked with a nice moment. A couple examples: Andrew said that when he was little, his dad would take him hiking. During treatments he could not even hike up a flight of stairs. But eventually, he climbed a mountainside with his dad. His dad congratulated him with, "You're back." David has a 6 year old son and they used to wrestle. During treatments, David didn't have the strength. But eventually, they wrestled again. His son congratulated him in a way only a 6 year old could, "Daddy, I'm glad you're useful again."

We packed up the cooler, collected our trash, and went back to the "boats." As we were trying to get the canoe off the rocks, we all turned suddenly after hearing a splash to find Joe dripping from head to toe. He was standing over his kayak looking down as if to be saying "what the f*** just happened?" (Either that, or he chose a bizarre time to be baptised and bow his head in prayer.) I felt a little bad, but it was also funny. This time David paddled the canoe and I could rest. Evelyn went back to pretending we were on land. The kayak people all made it back to the house in no time. We arrived about 17 hours later (with only one person rowing). As we were pulling up to the dock, time slowed down. I witnessed Joe and Andrew jumping in slow motion from the dock on either side of our canoe. I knew the splash (or tsunami) was coming, but I could not turn my neck to look away. Jeans, shoes, camera, and neck brace were all soaked. Evelyn took the brunt of it, too. She's going to get even, though. I think she is going to air some choice photos of Joe and Andrew on her TV show in Boston http://www.bostonlatinotv.com/aboutus.html.

Back at the house, while I was toweling off, I ran into Mark who was grabbing a beer. Remember how I said his hair was neatly combed? Well, apparently, it only stays combed for a short while. He gets like a mad scientist as she shoots...hair everywhere!

After a nap (the narcotics were hitting me), dinner was soon upon us. Todd and Tammy go all out preparing every meal. (Todd never took off his Flamenco dancer apron that he name Francesca.) Pasta and lasagna, garlic bread, salads, fruits, all kinds of cakes and pies. It was all laid out on the dining room table and everyone could take as much as they wanted (provided they saved room for drinking later in the evening.) Outside on the porch, while we ate, some decided to tell some funny stories. Krista is married to a colorectal surgeon, so she has stories, let me tell you. I won't get into all of them, but can I just say...that place where the sun doesn't shine? Well, some guy apparently didn't like darkness and thought to use a lava lamp to brighten up the place! Simon told a different type of story...I'll just leave it at that. Then Todd had an announcement. Each page of the Colondar has a sponsor ($6000 to sponsor a month). Well, he had the idea to get the past models to purchase a page since the economy is making it difficult to find sponsors. He announced that $3500 was pledged so far by past models. Within 10 minutes (probably more like five minutes), we told Molly and Todd that it was now at $4700 as all of us were in for $100 each. We just all knew that other people deserve to have this same experience.

At Lake George the cell phone reception and internet access was spotty and even non-existent for some. (We were living like the Amish for a few days. I bet they had a barn-raising while I was napping.) So, while Todd churned some butter for the next day's meals, a few people were desperately trying to connect to the internet. Finally, Troy yelled from the garage, "I got it!" Everyone hustled to the garage to watch Dom. Dom's middle daughter was about to drive with the rest of his family to her high school graduation in California. So, we all improvised a graduation song (to the tune of happy birthday) for her. It was funny when we came to the part where we sang "dear so-n-so" because none of us knew her name! I knew Dom had to be torn about where to be that day, so I asked him afterwards. When he heard the date for the Colondar shoot, he told his family he was cancelling. His daughter said, "the hell you are." (Actually, I lie...I'm sure she doesn't swear.) But, she told him that this was his thing and he HAD to do it. It was her idea to get him involved in it. During the video conference, you could just see how proud they were of each other. It was really special to see.

A short while later, I found myself on the wrap-around porch with some of the others -- as well as mosquitoes the size of dinosaurs! Andrew is the lead singer in a rock band named "Big Nixon" and he brought is guitar with him to the lake. He played a few songs and Sam (you may remember her from the chest-shaving adventures) joined in for a duet to an Indigo Girls song. I love acoustic guitar songs, so this was right up my alley.

I looked around and not enough people were accounted for on the porch. I walked into the kitchen and Todd was at the sink (where we keep him at night) and a couple were at the table chatting. But, half of the crew/models were still missing. I noticed the garage door was closed, so I opened it. For a second I thought the place was on fire...there was smoke everywhere. But it didn't smell like smoke and people weren't running around frantically (but with all the alcohol, they might not have been frantic during an actual fire.) I turned to the left and found Jill in her bra and Lori lounging on the floor swigging a bottle of champagne. (Hello! Why wasn't I notified of these goings-ons?) No, they weren't trying to pick up guys because it was closing time. Simon was on the floor giving them direction from behind his camera. I knew right away it was for his photography portfolio called "Windows." http://www.simonbiswas.com/ I could try to describe his work, but it's easier if you just go to his website. It's incredible. Well, the champagne bottle was running dry, so you know what that meant. (If you said, "get another bottle," you'd be wrong.) It was time for Lori not to be outdone. She was fully clothed and that simply wouldn't do with a buzz and a camera pointed at her. The jeans had to come off. (I'm going to take a camera on dates from now on. It might help me get the girls' clothes off.) Andrew immediately popped up and said, "I'll work the mist spray!" (conveniently located closest to the girls in their underwear.)

After the clothes came back on and the dance music that was playing throughout the shoot ended, it was time for me to grab a little dessert and head to bed. My shoulders were sore and I had to take a couple of narcotics.

Back to treatments...

2009-06-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

I took a six-week vacation from my IV of Avastin and my Xeloda pills so I could have my surgery on my neck. Today was my first day back with Avastin. I'm pooped...errr...wrong word. I'm exhausted. I think the past week has all caught up to me. Tomorrow I start my one week on / one week off of Xeloda.

Platelet count is 104, so it's holding pretty steady.

Colondar -- Day 2 (first half)

2009-06-09T16:48:00.001-07:00

I was one of the first ones to head to bed on Thursday night because I had the earliest shoot the next morning. A 7am call for makeup??? What the hell is that? I don't even wake up until about 9am on work days! My shoulders were a little sore from holding my neck still because of the recent surgery, so I needed some rest. On top of my bed was a goodie bag filled with some things that might be useful...and one that isn't too useful because I'm not a golfer. It's a golf club cover of "Eniman." You don't remember Eniman from the Marvel Comics? He's the Fleet Enima tube superhero, complete with cape. I guess when Superman was tired from a long day of fighting crime, Eniman would "relieve him." (Oh, was that bad or what?)

I hadn't eaten too much that evening and my stomach had some butterflies in it from thinking about the shoot the next day. As they said in Charlotte's Web when talking about Wilbur, "when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, sleep is hard to come by." And it was. I tossed and turned all night (well, if five hours qualifies as "all night.") I was awake before my alarm, so I decided to just jump in the shower.

I ate half a bagel and headed upstairs to the bedroom that was now "makeup and wardrobe." Sam(antha) and Alayne were there to take care of me. They gelled up my hair until it was hard and crunchy. Alayne was having problems finding the right amount/color of makeup for my face. My current medications give me a constant look like I have slight sunburn on my face. (I haven't been out in the sun in a year, so the rest of me is whiter than white). Finally, she was able to tone down my redness and we moved on. After the initial burst of light (picture a supernova) from revealing my white torso, their eyes eventually adjusted. Alayne applied lotion that would allow the makeup to work better on my body. So, as my arms were held out to the sides for her to lotion them up, Sam came at me with the clippers. It turns out my chest hair was too long. So to recap...one girl was rubbing me with lotion as another was shaving my body. (If I had a nickel for every time that has happened to me recently...) Once they were happy with my appearance, they escorted me to the studio in the garage.

Damn it was cold in there because the sun hadn't cleared the mountains! (This time, picture the male penguins huddled in Antarctica trying to warm their eggs.) I told Troy that besides having to remove my neck bandage with photoshop, he'd have to soften my nipples, too! The photographer, Mark, was there and, unlike yesterday, his hair was neatly combed. He had me stand on the designated spot (masking tape X on a piece of carpet -- very official) so he could take some test shots to get the lighting just so. Then we went right to it...and he didn't stop. For two hours, I was posing this way and that way. Tilting this way and that way. Leaning this way and that way. Shifting my center of gravity this way and that way. Looking this way and that. Rolling in the dirt, swinging from the rafters, wearing the assistant photographer's tube socks, etc. All the while, Mark was saying, "oh yeah, I like that..." The one thing he didn't like, though, was that the "Luck of the Irish" waistband from my underwear was making the photos too busy. So, early on I was told to lose the underwear. I didn't actually have to take it off. Alayne came over and tucked it in for me. (Whoa! Hello! I think she tucked it into my shoes. You know, I don't usually get kisses when I take a girl out three or four times. But here I got a girl's hand in my pants without having to buy her anything!)

During the shoot, something caught Mark's eye. In one photo, he loved everything except that my head was pointed down and I was looking at the ground. So, we tried to re-create that type of action but with me looking at the camera. We narrowed down what we thought I had done in that one photo to something that was not a "hold-able" pose because of gravity. So, we resorted to him counting to 3 and me "doing my thing" on the count of 3. We did this a hundred times. Okay, maybe it wasn't a hundred, but I do know that when he changed digital camera cards the first time, there were 570 photos of me. And he changed cards twice more! They used 140 GB of memory for the entire Colondar shoot. "Ah, we got what we want," Mark declared. Okay...I have no idea what he saw, but those photographers see things we mortals do not. (I'm pretty sure as a kid, Mark and Simon took actual photographs of those imaginary monsters under the bed that no one can see.)

As I walked out of the garage, it was much warmer, now. I discovered that I wasn't the only one getting a workout this morning with my "1, 2, 3...do your thing" (snap). Andrew was leading the guys in calisthenics. Some of them had yet to have their photo shoot, so they were trying to lose that last ounce of flab. I wasn't about to get all sweaty with the boys. Instead I was just going to go change clothes and deal with my mascara.

Neck surgery update...

2009-06-09T07:47:00.001-07:00

I met with my neurosurgeon today for my two-week follow-up. The x-rays showed that everything is healing properly. He removed the bandage (after the photo-shoot, naturally). We then did some arm strength testing. His words were, "that's amazing." (I love hearing "that's amazing" in reference to myself.) "Most people start getting the arm strength back in about 6 weeks. You already have about 95% of your strength back after two weeks."

The best part: I'm cleared to start jogging and lifting weights. Can you say, "tonight?" I knew you could. He said I should wait four more weeks to "go jumping around." That means I will be pitching for my Pitt team on 10 July vs. Georgetown. (provided my coach lets me have my job back)

As a very wise lady said over the weekend, "Don't baby yourself." :-)

Colondar -- Day 1

2009-06-08T18:03:00.000-07:00

This is a weird blog for me. Normally, I'm writing about my experiences with cancer. This blog will deal with experiences involving many cancer survivors -- some of whom may be reading this post. I debated using names, but if these lovable guys and gals are willing to "strip" for the Colondar photo shoot, what the heck would using their name in my tiny blog matter? Now that that's settled, away we go...

On Thursday morning I flew from DC to Albany, NY. I got a phone call while I was at baggage claim. It was one of the other models, David. As I tried to ask where he was, I was distracted by some arm-flailing by some dude 25 feet away. Yeah, I was slow...that was him. Next to arrive was Trish. As the three of us chatted while waiting for "some girl in a blue Dodge" to pick us up, David and Trish mentioned their children. Then Trish mentioned her grand kids. (What? Okay, wait for the Colondar and you tell me if she's grandma-ish!")

The blue Dodge pulled up and Krista greeted us with hugs. (Little did I know that she was just warming up her "touching skills" for the weekend.) The car ride to Lake George was about two hours from Albany. Along the way, we exchanged poop stories left and right. The one conversation that stuck out to me was David talking about "Helping Hits" http://www.helpinghits.org/ David had started a foundation for his friend, also named David, who passed away from colon cancer. (Davidsfight.org) "Helping Hits" is a fundraiser where one guy has volunteered to hit 5000 softballs within 24 hours. Now, he was talking my language! (Not that poop isn't my language -- I'm bilingual) That sounded so cool...I loved the idea.

There were two near accidents during the rest of the road trip. We were driving behind an 18-wheeler and it stopped suddenly. We had to stop quickly and Krista pulled onto the shoulder because another truck was right behind us, ready to sandwich us. That would be nice...we all survive cancer only to be in an accident at a celebration for cancer survival. (We would have been the *butt* of many jokes. "Rectum? Damn near killed him," comes to mind.) The second near "car accident" was when David said he needed to pee, but we never bothered to stop because we were busy chatting. (Hey, if he can tolerate chemo, he can tolerate a full bladder.) He was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. Finally, he couldn't take it any more and we let him go into the woods. (Nothing like urinating in front of strangers to break the ice. I'm going to try it at my next singles' event.)

We arrived at the house and were greeted by some of the crew. Two of the founders of the Colondar, Molly and Hannah, were waiting with hugs. I was the last one to exit the minivan and the first thing I heard was "what the hell?" (And by "hell," I mean "f***".) "Odd greeting," I thought to myself...until I remembered I was wearing my neck brace during the car ride because of my surgery the previous week. Oops. "No, no...it's okay," I explained as I removed it to reveal a much smaller bandage on my neck. I didn't mean to scare anyone into thinking I'd look like a freak for photos. (I still might, but at least not for that reason.)

I was actually there -- at the Colondar shoot. It was a goal I set within weeks of going on chemo. (And as you know, I'm not happy unless I reach my goals.) I got a little choked up. (I swear that is the only time all weekend that will happen. Believe me?)

They showed us around the ranch...the chow hall...the photography studio...etc. I wasn't too hungry, so I went out to the photo studio (actually the garage) as they were shooting Lori. You know how the camera adds 10 lbs? Well, that is if you are looking through the camera. I found out that if you stand behind the photographer and look at the subject (in this case, Lori) with your own eyes, it adds about 6 inches. I could have sworn she looked 6 feet tall. Maybe it was my narcotics because she's not a big girl in any sense of the word. (No point to that little story, other than my brain wasn't working...both then and now, I guess). When Lori finished, I chatted a little. She is from Arkansas and (as she puts it) doesn't have an "ack-saint."

On the other side of the studio...errr...garage was where the magic happened. The computer and media drives were all hooked up. Troy and Simon were busy editing the photos from the first shoot earlier that day. Holy crap! I was both comfortable and uncomfortable seeing the photo of Jill. I was comfortable because I now realized I didn't have to take good photos of myself. No one will even see my photo. All the buyers of the Colondar will simply keep it on Jill's month all year long. I was uncomfortable because suddenly my pants were a little too tight. (Oops...I think Lori has rubbed off on me! :-P )

I was summoned by Molly to "wardrobe." They wanted me to put on my outfit for tomorrow's shoot to see how everything looked. I went upstairs to the makeup/hairstyling room. Someone was using the room next door to change, so I could wait or "just take your pants off here." "I do that as my part-time job," I replied. (I'm an actor, people. We change in the same room. What were you thinking I meant?) I put the clothes on and we went back to the studio to show the photographer, Mark. Mark's recommendations were to not iron my shirt (So just like normal for me.) and wear the same underwear tomorrow for the shoot (it's not disgusting...it's art!) He wanted the same underwear because the jeans were low-rise and the waistband of the underwear read "Luck of the Irish." It was appropriate...I felt very lucky to be there.

After changing back to my regular dress, I mingled with all the people who were there and the ones who were still arriving. The dining room had a long table that was constantly covered with every type of food imaginable by Todd and his wife, Tammy. The back deck was littered with coolers of drinks. Beer, wine and tequila was always readily available. (I stuck mostly to my Oxycontin pills instead.) Once everyone arrived, we found ourselves in the "family room" playing card games and Taboo. Even though most of us arrived that day, it sure didn't seem like we just met. The awkwardness of meeting new people was not in the atmosphere. There was just a connection to everyone that I can't explain and if someone could explain it to me, I'd love to hear it. I can't put it into words.

Zzzzzzzzzzz...

2009-05-30T14:12:00.000-07:00

I'm doing what I do after all my surgeries. Sleep. I figure the more I sleep, the more my body doesn't require any energy and it can all go towards healing me. Also, I get bored to death and I only want to be put in a coma and wake up when I'm fine. If I can't be out exercising, what's the point of anything? :-)

I'm a little sore in my neck, but not too bad. The part that is bumming me out is that I have a big patch over my neck. Normally, it would not be a problem whatsoever. However, in 6 days I get my photos taken for my Colondar calendar. So, instead of looking good for that photo shoot, wasn't able to workout for the past 8 weeks. My muscles deteriorated on my right side to be visibly smaller than on the left. This was due to the brain impulses not getting to the muscles at all. It was like they had died. So, no muscles and a big patch on my neck. Won't I look adorable? :-(

Easiest surgery yet...

2009-05-28T09:16:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I had my herniated disc in my neck repaired. It was a lot less painful than Lasik for me. (Lasik felt like sand and shampoo was in my eye for a couple of days.) I woke up from surgery and was hooked to pain meds via I.V. I could press the button every ten minutes if I wanted to. I didn't need to. I only pressed it when I was going to sleep and that was only because they scared me by saying, "don't let your pain develop because it's hard to bring back down again." So what happened when I pressed the button? (Either I launched a nuclear missile, opened someone's garage door, or became itchy on every square inch of my body. You guess.)

I had to be given Benadryl (sp?) for the itchiness. Then that made me so groggy. Had I just layed there with no meds I would have been fine. But I had to take meds for the sole reason of repairing the damage from the meds I didn't really need! Ugh.

I'm home now. I'm not suppose to talk for a couple of days. Follow up visit is 9 June. I have to get an x-ray on 8 June. Then back to I.V. for cancer prevention on 10 June. (Admit it, you wish you could have my life!)

Joke time...

2009-05-19T19:43:00.000-07:00

"Why haven't you called me?" I said, "I can't call everyone I want. My new phone has no five on it." He said, "How long have you had it?" I said, "I don't know...my calendar has no sevens on it." -- Steven Wright

I got a call from my surgeon's office today. "We've hit a snag. We can't do the surgery on Monday because that's a holiday." (That's probably why I asked last week, "do you do surgeries on holidays?" when you replied "yes.") She continued, "so we can either do it tomorrow or Wednesday the 27th." (Well, given that I already postponed tomorrow's scheduled surgery because my oncologist said it was too soon after my cancer treatment, so I'm going to say no to tomorrow again.)

Okay, so it's now on Wednesday the 27th. "By the way, were my blood counts okay for surgery?" "Oh, I haven't given the results to the doctor yet." "Oh, so all this could change again." (How about if once you see my obituary, you make the appointment for the next day?)

First it's a pain in the butt...

2009-05-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

...now's it's a pain in the neck. What could possibly be next?

So, the latest on my herniated disc neck surgery is that I am scheduled for 25 May. Yep, that is Memorial Day. I spent last year's 4th of July in the hospital for surgery and my birthday last year also in the hospital for surgery. So, I have a good, proven track record with holidays.

The only thing that could prevent this surgery date is my bloodwork. I will have labs drawn on Monday and let's hope I'm given the go-ahead. I need to get back to swinging! (That's a softball bat, not exchanging wives for the evening.)

History of the Colondar...

2009-05-11T20:15:00.000-07:00

As you probably know from following my blog, I'm going to be in a calendar for colon cancer suvivors for 2010. The photo shoot is in June. Take a look at the history which is now on Youtube:

Part One: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiSCszlVbgs
Part Two: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bsNu3W4Ob0
Part Three: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2TUhJEmk_k
Part Four: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjuMI8vtfVE

Why me??

2009-05-10T12:45:00.000-07:00

You know, throughout my entire year of surgeries and chemo, I never once asked, "why me?" So, now that my herniated disc has become more painful than anything in my life, I'm going to ask. WHY ME??? What did I do?

My physical therapy was helping slightly over the two weeks since I started. But then a few days ago, I woke up and I was worse than ever before. Time to see the neuro surgeon. He looked at my MRI and said, "do you have pain here, here, and here?" Yep, those were the spots. So, I knew he knew what he was talking about. He tested my arm strength and I had none in my right tricep. So, he knew it was time for surgery. Sadly, he's booked until 20 May. Ugh.

I was supposed to leave for Europe on the 18th to celebrate the end of chemo. That's out the window. Does anyone know if I can get any of my money back from Travelocity for hotels and flights?

Oh, yeah...btw. The reason I started this blog... I have a CAT scan for cancer tomorrow. I almost forgot that cancer is my main issue!

Pain in the neck...

2009-04-28T18:37:00.000-07:00

The MRI showed a herniated disc in my neck. I was told to stop sports/weights/running for 6 weeks as I undergo physical therapy. I started the therapy 3 days ago.

You know what sucks? I went to the gym just now. Yeah, yeah...I'm not supposed to, but I am so f'ing pissed off I can't stand it. I'm constantly in pain...I'm more and more tired every day from inactivity...

I laid on the bench press tonight to warm up with the bar (45 lbs) and I couldn't get my right arm to push upward. My muscles aren't getting the signals from my brain because the nerves are pinched. It took all I had to put the bar back on the rack. I went from 200 lbs on the bench press five weeks ago to less than 45 lbs today.

Five weeks ago I was in the best shape of my life. Since then, I've lost 8 lbs, my muscles have atrophied, and I've got a gut, now. This will look just great for a calendar. I don't even want to go to the photo shoot, now.

Cancer? Hell, that was nothing.

If it's not one thing...

2009-04-21T17:30:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, April 4th, I woke up early to go run with my cancer group. I could not move my neck at all. The night before I didn't even exercise. I called my running coach and said I couldn't make it to the run (or to the next room in the house, for that matter.) I kinda worked out the kinks and got enough motion to function. But it hurt like heck. For the next several days, it was much of the same. I had to resort to taking narcotics (left over from my cancer surgeries) to sleep at night.

Finally, I went to an orthopedic surgeon. She prescribed steroids and muscle relaxants. That led to me feeling sick the whole week. Weird...I can put chemo drugs in me and I don't feel as bad as I did on steroids. I wasn't certain what the drugs were supposed to be doing, but they did take away the pain. That was because my entire right arm/hand was now numb. That was fun. "Pins and needles" in my fingers.

Wednesday of that week was my first softball game of the season. I had thought about this game all winter long. Every time I dragged my tired self out of the house to get to the gym, it was because of returning to playing softball and being better than ever. The schedule was announced and this first game was against our rival, Penn State. So, what happened at the game? Was I better than ever? Well...

My first practice pitch literally went 20 feet to the right. What the? The next was just as bad. I couldn't control my arm. During the hour before the game, I re-learned how to pitch with my new muscle memory. Ugh. Surprisingly, I didn't walk any batters during the game. However, I did throw some meatballs I ordinarily would not have thrown. It was upsetting. At the plate, I moved back up to batting 2nd in the lineup because I was now "better." The first pitch...swing and a miss! Again...what the?? I couldn't remember swinging and missing in a decade or so. I could not make my arm go where I wanted it to go. Talk about a strange feeling. I now was a nonathletic person with no eye/hand coordination. Not the result I was looking for by going to the gym all the time!

It gets worse. A ball came back to me and I went to catch it with my bare hand. My one finger went it's own way and wham...I jammed it. The entire finger is still purple. But, don't worrry...it doesn't hurt thanks to the numb arm! Later, I wanted to clap for a teammate and I missed my hands! Who does that? I tried a sobriety test and couldn't touch my nose. I was a mess.

So, here we are. Tomorrow I have an MRI on my neck to see what the discs are doing. It could mean surgery. Greaaaaaat. Another surgery. I thought I was done. I do not want to miss another entire softball season. :-(

Busy, busy bee...

2009-04-21T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm in my fourth week of working full-time. Sorry, i haven't updated the blog recently, but working full-time takes up so much time. Last year, all I had to worry about was taking my pills before I got the urge to vomit or making it to the sink when I didn't get the pills in time. Now, there is a need to set aside time for grocery shopping, laundry, etc. It's tough to fit it all in! I haven't been too tired at work. Naps are a thing of the past (except on weekends!)

Since I returned to full-time, I ended my leave donation program at work. It is good to be back, but I still have doctor appointments to get to. So, I end up taking leave without pay. That's not great, but what can you do? To make matters worse, check out my next blog!

Scope it Out 5K -- part deux

2009-03-31T20:31:00.000-07:00

Last year at this time, I was on full-blown chemo, low in weight/strength, and pretty much bald. So, running in the Scope it Out 5K was not really an option -- due to the factors other than baldness. I walked the entire thing in about an hour...strolling along the water, listening to the birds chirping. Who am I kidding? The birds were all dead because it was so cold that morning!

This year, I was now on "chemo-lite" pills, almost back to normal weight, as strong as ever in my life...and full of hair (like Austen Powers). Running was now an option, but just how far I didn't know. I started off pretty well. Everyone was in my way, so instead of weaving and making it 3.2 miles vice 3.1, I jumped to the sidewalk and ran there. If any security people would have told me to get back on the road, I was totally prepared to pull the cancer/chemo card (still in my wallet in the car, but they didn't know that.) Eventually, the log-jam cleared and I went back to the streets. At about mile one, Jess caught up to me (I was slowing) and we did about a 1/3rd of a mile together, but I had to stop and walk a little.

After that, I walked for a block and ran for a couple of blocks for the rest of the race. Around mile 2, a fan was cheering who was wearing a pitt jacket. I yelled, "go pitt" and he smiled (even though Pitt had lost the night before on a last second shot. Ugh.) I kept going. While I approached five blocks to go, I was thinking, "do I run one more, walk one, and then run three? Or run two, walk one, run 2?" Just then I heard my name called. I looked back and Erin was catching me. I didn't even know she was in the race. She caught up and I told her to keep talking, but I wasn't going to talk. She kept me running the next four blocks without walking. With one to go, I said "come on." She knew what I meant and we sprinted the last block (or what felt like a sprint to me). I finished at 33:02. After I stopped, my legs were so limp that I had to hold on to people. Plus, blisters on both feet after mile 2. Ugh.

During this race I still didn't hear any birds. Must have been my gasping for air that was blocking out the chirps.

"Nope, nada, zilch..."

2009-03-23T19:38:00.000-07:00

I had a routine office visit with my oncologist last week. "Nope, nada, and zilch" were my responses to his questions of "any pain?" "any side-effects from the chemo pills?" "any problems at all?"

You simply can't imagine how nice it is to be able to give those answers. :'-)

Workin' 9 to 5...

2009-03-09T21:29:00.000-07:00

Well, more like 10:15am to 6:15pm (I like to sleep in.) But EIGHT hours is my longest day in 14 months!

I followed it with a mile on the treadmill and some weight-lifting. Man, am I pooped!

Updates all around...put it on my tab!

2009-03-04T09:12:00.000-08:00

Well, last week was the first week of my "chemo-lite" pills. I took them for seven days and had seven days off. Tomorrow I start back on them for a week again. I didn't feel any side effects. No fevers, no mouth sores, no nausea, no runs, nothing!

I had my blood tests today and that didn't show any side-effects from the pills, either. In fact, my platelet count increased from 122,000 to 134,000. 150K is where I want to be. It just takes a while to come back after all the full chemo treatments I had.

Also, I tipped the scales at over 145 lbs today at the hospital! That's a gain of almost 4 lbs in two weeks!

At the gym, I am consistantly running an 8:40 mile. Not where I want to be, but getting more energy. I'm working out on the bench press with 185 lbs. Not back to where I was, but inching closer. Besides I don't weigh enough to lift too much right now!

So everything is looking good!

I'm sure I'll post a blog after my trip to NYC next week for the Big East Tournament!

Party review...

2009-02-21T22:15:00.000-08:00

Well, my "End of Chemo" party was tonight. My mom and I got there about 6:15pm and sat down. At 6:30pm, it was a like a bus pulled up with the guests. People swarmed in. Thinking back to who was there, I think the final count was about 80 people. I had several different groups represented... Pitt alums, Arlington softball teammates, neighbors, family, ex-dates (no...not the biggest group, people!), coworkers, cancer support group members, improv troupe members, etc.

Because so many people attended, I spent the entire first couple of hours greeting everyone. I missed out on much of the food and I didn't see one basket in the Pitt game. I constantly felt like I was ignoring everyone as I tried to dart around and get to see everyone at least a little. If I missed you...SORRY! It was amazing to see that many people out to support me.

And I did not cry once! (It was my party, so I could have cried had I wanted to.) I cried earlier in the day, so I was good.

Earlier in the day, #2 North Carolina lost their basketball game. So, I knew Pitt had a shot at number one tonight. We just needed #1 Oklahoma to lose. Midway through that game, Oklahoma lost their best player. It was a sign. As the final seconds ticked away in Okla's loss, the song randomly playing in the bar was Gloria Gaynor's "I will Survive." How appropriate was that?

Back in January, Pittsburgh became #1 for the first time ever on the day the doctor told me that I could end chemo. They became #1 again the day I celebrated the end of chemo. They did it for me...I know they did! :-)

It's all good...

2009-02-18T16:24:00.000-08:00

My first CT scan since not being on chemo was conducted on Tuesday. Today I found out the results. No signs of cancer. :-) Now I can be at my party this weekend and not worry about anything. It's such a good feeling!

I also received a prescription for my pill form of chemo that I will do for two years. The pill form is called "chemo-lite." There should not be many side effects. I took the script to the drug store today and the pharmacist spent 15 minutes on the computer. She finally came back to me and said, "I thought it wasn't going through insurance, but it is. Your co-pay is still $1100. Wow. A co-pay of $1100 for a two month supply of pills! Luckily, my insurance cuts me off at $4500 for the year and the rest is free!

On a different note... This made me tear up:

http://sports.espn.go.com/highschool/rise/basketball/boys/news/story?id=3914375

The CAT scan ritual...

2009-02-17T08:49:00.000-08:00

Today I had another CAT scan. I'll find out the results tomorrow when I meet with my oncologist. I can't remember if I posted my CAT scan ritual in a previous post. Oh well, I'll risk posted it again. When I arrive at the hospital to drink barium, I stuff my nose with tissue so I can't taste as much. Then I chug as much of the barium that I can. I immediately gargle with Gatorade and pop a piece of chewing gum in my mouth. I usually have to repeat this 4-6 times to down the entire batch of barium. Today was no different.

Then I am required to wait about 30 minutes as it works its way through my bowels. Once in the CAT scan machine today, they scanned me. The second scan came after some contrast dye was injected in my vein. That gave me the warm feeling (like peeing your pants). The tech then said something new. "You're digestive system worked too quickly. I need you to drink some more barium. But since the previous scans were just conducted with you in this position, you can't move." I had to drink barium while laying flat on my back. Try drinking ANYTHING while on your back and your head level! Now try it with chalky crap! My god, did I gag.

I haven't had that much fun since Disney World!

How dry I am...

2009-02-12T18:47:00.000-08:00

This past Tuesday was the first day I can remember in 14 months where I didn't cry at all. Wow, that sounds amazing. Crying every day for 14 months! Who does that? People on chemo.

The first couple of months, they were sad tears dealing with the unknown. Then the tears turned to hopeful. Later, they turned to happy. And the drugs didn't help. I would cry walking to the mailbox. Just happy that I could make that walk and was still here.

When you go through something like this, it consumes your every thought. Now that I'm back at work, my mind is occupied with other things. I think that is why I skipped my crying on Tuesday. I just didn't think about it at all.

I guess that's a sign of becoming normal again. I realize there will be more tears coming. I can think of two occasions: my party next week and the first time I take the mound for softball this spring. I'll probably leave a mud puddle on the softball field. :-)

Cancer Tree...

2009-02-05T21:19:00.000-08:00

I was diagnosed the week before Christmas in 2007. All of my decorations were already up when I heard the news. After Christmas, I started taking them down and I got really sad. (Chemo does that. Well, chemo and not knowing if you are going to die.) So, I kept a tree up and lit. It was a 4-foot tree with only white lights and it was lit usually 'round the clock. Over the months, the strands of lights started to burn out. I saw a few string go out as I was watching TV.

As Christmas of 2008 arrived, four stands were out and only one remained. As you know, my chemo treatments were every two weeks. My last treatment turned out to be 19 December 2008. If we assume that each round of chemo does its work for two weeks, that means the chemo stopped working on 2 January 2009. That is the exact day the last strand of lights went out. :'-)

Delay in starting pills...

2009-01-21T09:15:00.001-08:00

I met with my oncologist today and my blood tests still show that my platelet count is low. My count should be at 215 and it's at 127. That is up a little from last time, but not as high as he expected it to be since stopping chemo. The good news is that it's going up. The bad news is that there is a *possibility* that it shows cancer. He followed up with, "but don't think about that...I just have to tell you the possibility."

Because of this issue, he wanted to start my pills in two weeks instead of today. But I leave for Puerto Rico in 16 days and I didn't want to take a chance of having a side-effect while in San Juan. So, we will start the pills on 18 February. Just to be certain of everything, I will have a CAT scan on 17 February.

Having my CAT scan results means my party on the 21st will either be a bigger celebration or an encouragement party.

Friends...

2009-01-13T18:30:00.001-08:00

Yes, cancer sucks. Yes, the treatment is not at all pleasant. But, some good stuff comes out of it. Over the weekend, I attended a party with a group of people I met through "Cancer to 5K" (the running group for cancer survivors.) At work today, I met a guy who had heard about me and his mother is about to start chemo and he just wanted to talk to someone. After work, I went shopping with a friend of a friend who has started chemo.

I would not have met any of these people, had my disease never come about. It makes it a little easier to deal with...

End of Chemo/Cancer Party!

2009-01-13T06:10:00.000-08:00

Hey Everyone!

As most of you know, 2008 SUCKED for me. Well, 2009 is better by far. I ended chemotherapy, Pitt is #1 in basketball, and I was selected as a calendar model. What's next??? I'll tell you what's next...

My end of chemo party! If you are in town, I'd love for you to be there.

Date:Saturday, February 21, 2009
Time:6:30pm - 9:30pm
Location:Crystal City Sports Pub (3rd floor)
Street:529 23rd Street South
City/Town:Arlington, VA 22202

We have the entire top floor (non-smoking...no cancer sticks) of the Crystal City Sports Pub. The Pitt/Depaul game will be on the big screens and I'll have some appetizer trays there. Meals and drinks can be purchased, too.

Here is the website for directions and menus and such: http://www.ccsportspub.com/

Let me know if you plan on coming (unless you already confirmed on Facebook), so I have an idea of the size of our group. amvandelay@gmail.com

When does softball start?????

Shawn

Back to work for good this time!

2009-01-11T17:46:00.000-08:00

Wow...it's been about 13 months that I haven't really been at work. Sure, there were weeks where I went in here and there, but nothing really serious. I would get to work one day and the next day I was pounded with chemo and asleep next to Rip Van Winkle for the next two weeks.

But this time I hope it sticks. The plan is to do 4-hour days for a few weeks and then bump it up to 6-hour days for a couple more weeks. By March...full time! Cross your fingers that the pill form of chemo I'll be on doesn't wear me out.

"He works hard for the money.
So hard for it, honey.
So, you better treat him right."

Not eligible for the clinical trial...

2009-01-09T13:57:00.000-08:00

Because of my Crohn's Disease I'm not a candidate for the clinical trial for the vaccination shots. I had pretty much decided against the trial anyway. There was a chance I'd be put in the placebo group and that is not something I wanted to risk. If we were treating depression or something, then okay. But just being out there with no protection against cancer returning would be a scary thought.

So, I'm going on pill form of chemo for the next two years. I'll also get an infusion every two weeks of Avastin. It's not a chemo drug because it's not a chemical...it's a biological agent. So, I'm on biotherapy, now. Sounds better than chemotherapy!

Maybe Tonight, Maybe Tomorrow

2009-01-06T01:32:00.000-08:00

http://www.livestrong.org/site/c.khLXK1PxHmF/b.2662157/k.BC61/Maybe_Tonight_Maybe_Tomorrow.htm

I heard the news today. It came out of nowhere.
I wish I could run away,
but where would I go?
Is this my destiny? Something so unfair... What will become of me?
God only knows.

And they say the road to heaven might lead us back through hell.
Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, we will win this fight and bury this sorrow.
We're so alive, still holding on, not ready to die, so we LIVESTRONG.

My pride is left for dead, as my world gets shaken.
The thoughts inside my head are so hard to control.
I am staring down the unknown, but one thing is certain.
You could break my body, but you will never break my soul.

And they say the road to heaven might leads us back through hell, but we're holding on for more
than stories to tell.

Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, we will win this fight and bury this sorrow.
We're so alive, still holding on, not ready to die, so we LIVESTRONG.

Pick an emotion and I have it.

2009-01-05T07:47:00.001-08:00

Today was supposed to be a chemo treatment. I met with my oncologist and we went over my side-effects (extreme fatigue mostly). We then talked.

Five years ago when people had colon cancer with mets to the liver, they would do three months of chemo, have surgery and then do 12 more months of chemo. A study later showed that only doing six months of chemo after surgery prevented reoccurance just as well. Studies are now showing that four months is the same, too. That's where I'm at...four month of chemo after surgery.

Because of my fatigue and my lower bone marrow counts (mine are 100-150 and should be 215...50 is dangerous) we are stopping chemo now. The numbers will come back up. So, I'm done with chemo infusions! That's the happy part! I'm crying because I'm happy.

I have two choices, now. There is a clinical trial for a vaccination shot that I would do every week or two where they would shoot a protein into me. It bonds with my cells and boosts my immune system to fight cancer cells. If I am eligible for that, I'm going to do it. I might not be eligible because I also have Crohn's Disease. If I can't do it, we will start pill form of chemotherapy. I'd be on that for two years. Neither of these avenues have long-term study results. That's the scary part! I'm crying because I'm also scared.

My mind is trying to think about all this and it's almost too much to handle. There are no percentages to go by. That could be good or bad depending how you look at it. They told me back in February that they couldn't do anything for me and I didn't listen too well to that.

"Never tell me the odds." -- Han Solo

We're # 1 !!!!

2009-01-04T18:25:00.001-08:00

For the first time EVER Pitt is number one in the country in basketball!

What a difference a year makes. Last year, I wasn't sure if I'd live. This year is only four days old and I've been accepted as a calendar model, met Dick Vitale, and my favorite team is number one.

Wow. Just wow...

"Awesome, baby!"

2009-01-04T08:10:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, Pitt was in town to play Georgetown. It was going to be a good game with two top-10 teams playing. While I was in El Paso this week for Pitt's bowl game, I ran into the Athletic Director for Pitt and he said that he just got word that Dick Vitale would be announcing the Georgetown game.

I made it a point to get to see him and thank him for his work with the Jimmy V Foundation for cancer research. So, I walked into the Verizon Center at 10:30am (game at noon) and went to a few different ushers until I found one who would let me down to courtside to "take photos of the court." Once I was down, I drifted towards the scorers' table and called out to Mr. Vitale. I told him that my friend (who was with me) and I were both on chemo and I thanked him for his help raising money. I also said that some of that money might have helped me because my procedure was very new and it worked great.

Btw, Pitt pulled away and won the game 70-54! They are now # 2 in the country!

Me, a supermodel?

2008-12-31T17:57:00.000-08:00

Well, not quite. But, as many of you know I applied to be in "The Colondar." It's a calendar for colon cancer survivors where they show their scars.

Today was a nice way to end the year. I got a message that my application was accepted. I'll do a photo shoot in NY in June and then the calendar will be online for purchase about September or October. Autographs are free...I'll have a signing at Borders. :-)

Here are a couple of the application photos that helped me get accepted:

Best and Worst of 2008...

2008-12-29T11:12:00.001-08:00

I can't write this post on New Year's Eve because I'll be in El Paso, Texas at Pitt's Sun Bowl game. So, I'm doing it a couple of days early.

The Worst of 2008:

February: Oncologist said "You have too many tumors, so you are inoperable. We are just going to keep you alive as long as possible."

The Best of 2008:

August: I know the best part of the year is no longer having cancer, but that was a gradual process, so there was no real "moment" when it just happened all at once. So, I'm going with my happiest time this year: Pitching the entire alumni softball tournament five weeks after removing half my liver and having my team coming in 3rd out of 70 teams. It was so unbelievable.

Christmas wish...

2008-12-26T11:01:00.000-08:00

I would never wish cancer on anyone...except the person who broke into my car on Christmas night. The car window that was broken cost more than the stolen items.

This perp stole a broken satellite radio (I was about to buy a new one), a bunch of CDs that no one would want (I'm weird, so I had Air Supply, Celine Dion, Elvis, and a bunch of home-made ones), some clothing (scarf, hat, gloves), and about $3 in change.

But the criminal left behind the $100 sunglasses and $300 softball bat in the trunk. Smart guy!

If my wish comes true and he does get cancer, I wonder if that crap he stole would pay for his chemo treatments. My guess is not...

Flash back: 19 December 2007

2008-12-18T21:49:00.001-08:00

One year ago today, I was sitting in an oncologist's office at Georgetown as the doctor was saying the biopsies from my colonoscopy confirmed cancer in the colon that had spread to the liver. He went over the options for me. I don't really remember the conversation. It's mostly a blur as I either blacked it out or my mind was thinking about other things and not listening. It was a day I wish no one would ever have to go through again.

Today, one year later, I will be back at Georgetown for my 14th chemotherapy treatment. Last year I was a week away from my 1st and was fearing the unknown. Now, the 18th and final treatment is in sight and not much fear surrounds me. Sure, the cancer could return. But if it returns to my liver, I'll just get it cut out. The liver grows back. If it returns to my colon, I'll just get another piece snipped off. Even removing the entire colon won't kill me...just not the most pleasant idea.

I'm more worried about how I'm going to find tickets to the Big East Basketball Tournament this year with all the teams being so good!

Flash back: 17 December 2007

2008-12-17T07:05:00.000-08:00

One year ago today, I was undergoing a colonoscopy. It didn't last too long because the G.I. doctor could not get his camera past all the cancer almost completely blocking my colon.

Let's hope tomorrow's colonoscopy is much better!

Tough stretch...

2008-12-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

I am about to deal with a stretch of days that isn't pleasant. Tomorrow I have to fast (only soup broth and Sprite) and then in the afternoon, I start taking exlax pills. Once the pills start working, I have to down a half gallon of the worst-tasting slop you ever could put in your mouth to totally clean me out.

Then on Thursday, they'll poke my arm with a needle for an I.V. and jam a long camera in somewhere I don't think it was intended to be. I'll be doped up the rest of the day and not really hungry.

Come Friday, as I'm all weak from not eating much for two days, they will once again stick a needle in me and this time they will pump killer chemicals into my bloodstream for three days. I probably won't vomit much because there will not be much in me. That won't stop the nausea, though.

If you are expecting a holiday present from me, unless I can find something for you on the operation table on Thursday, you're out of luck.

I like to re-read my blog...

2008-12-13T23:30:00.000-08:00

I noticed that I posted this on 1 June:

"If everything goes perfectly, I could be cancer free by December. I'm not celebrating yet, but there is hope..."

Well, I do like perfection! :-)

Sleeping and napping...

2008-12-10T13:34:00.001-08:00

My first cycle of the last six chemo treatments is behind me. As I sit around here feeling rundown, I'm thinking about all the texts and emails I got last week when I said there were no signs of cancer anymore.

A lot of you said "you did it" or something to that effect. I'm not really sure I did much of anything except take what was dished out to me. I mean, the surgeons and oncologists did their work and I just recovered from any and all effects from it.

About the only thing I did was say yes to surgery and yes to chemotherapy. But, given the choice I had, any of you would have done exactly the same thing. There wasn't a choice.

It's like being in a bar fight. Some guy punches me in the face and I fall down. Later, I go home and recooperate. Did I really do anything besides heal?

Don't get me wrong... I'm super happy to be getting better, but I'm not sure how much of a role I played. The researchers for drugs and procedures are the ones who did it.

I was in the shower today...

2008-12-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

And I was looking at my stomach thinking about how there is nothing in there (besides the sandwich I just ate.) This was the first time in my life I was thinking about that. All year, I would look at it and think about the crap that's in there. Prior to be diagnosed, I would never even think about anything.

I wonder how long (if ever) it will be before I can look at my abdomen and not think about anything...

NO SIGNS OF CANCER!

2008-12-03T10:25:00.001-08:00

The CT scan results came back and part of it read, "new pulmonary nodules." That actually means "new cancer tumors." When my oncologist read that, he immediately called the radiologist who wrote the report. "Oh, that should read, NO new pulmonary nodules," he said. It's just a tiny, little, two-letter word, but that NO is very important! :-)

It reminded me of Seinfeld: "This is George Costanza, I'm calling for my test results. Negative? Oh, my God. WHY! WHY! WHY? What? What? Negative is good? Oh, yes of course! How stupid of me. Thank you. Thank you very much."

So, what now?

Well, the scan showed inflamation in the one side my colon. It's most likely my Crohn's disease acting up. I've dealt with that for 20 years, so no biggie. I have to schedule a colonoscopy within the next month to see what's going there. I haven't taken any meds for Crohns in a year, so I might have to start again. Also, any polyps that may be in there can be removed before they have a chance to turn cancerous.

My spleen is also slightly enlarged. That could be a side-effect of the liver resection. My oncologist has to check with other specialists to see if that's normal. Btw, the doc showed me the CT scan of my liver. He said if he didn't know I had half of it cut out, he wouldn't know from the scan. It's back to normal! Where's the nearest bar???

I will continue on with my next six cycles of chemo as normal. After that, I will switch to a pill form of chemo for the next two years. This involves taking pills twice a day for 7 days on and 7 days off. There should not be any side-effects with the pills and if there are side-effects, he'll reduce the dosage.

I texted a bunch of people today after I received the news. Here are some responses:

"Yeah!"
"Yay, where's the party?"
"Kick ass!"
"Yes!"
"Wow. Amazing news. Lets win a (softball) championship" (This is my personal favorite.)
"Awesome!!! I am so happy...Miracle"
"Awesome, such great news"
"YEAAA!!! Awesome."
"U R a walking miracle. Truely inspiring"
"Gik" (My uncle who is trying to learn to text message.)
"Yahoo!"
"Gittxuy up" (My uncle getting a little better.)
"That is GREAT!"
"Woo Hoo!"
"Yahoo! What about the baby?" (See two blog posts down)
"Wooow! Good news! Im happy 4u!"

Jimmy V. Week (3-9 Dec)

2008-12-03T05:12:00.000-08:00

If you have never seen "the speech," you should:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePXlkqkFH6s

"Don't give up...don't ever give up..."

Scan completed...

2008-12-02T07:47:00.000-08:00

The last time I was at Georgetown for a CAT scan, they had me use all three methods of administering contrast. This time I only had to do it orally and via I.V. They spared me the enema. Whew! But, the I.V. is the one that makes you feel warm in your groin area, so I wasn't sure if I pee'd myself or not until afterwards (I did not.)

Anywhoo...here is a photo a tech gave me from my scan. As you can see...the hands and feet are starting to develop. Wait a second...this can't be my photo. I'm not even dating anyone. There had to be a mix-up. I'll ask my doctor tomorrow when I have my appointment.

Scan me...

2008-12-01T12:51:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow will most likely be my first CAT scan since my surgery. I say probably because it was supposed to be weeks ago, but there were mix-ups at Georgetown. We'll see.

I'm not too nervous right now, but after the scan I have to wait to see my doctor the next day. Tomorrow night could be a little tense for me.

Bedside manner...

2008-11-19T12:39:00.001-08:00

In the past few days, two of my friends have asked me if I would mind talking with their friends who have cancer. Both of them are around my age, play sports in my alumni league, and could use some encouragement. Of course, I am happy to talk with them. If either of them are reading this...hi! :-)

It feels weird being the one to be offering the encouragement instead of the one receiving it from all of you who read my blog. But, it's a nice feeling. It'll be even nicer when these two girls go into remission and take over my role with "patients" of their own. Keep the pattern going, until that day when cancer goes the way of Polio. (Btw, you know where the vaccine for Polio was discovered, right? That's right...the University of Pittsburgh! :-) )

I wish there was no one for me to talk to, but since there is, it's nice to help...