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| Me, waiting for my regular cancer check up. Never easy. |
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| I’m not special, I’m human. |
For those who don’t know me, I have been in a medical battle for approximately ten years. My condition seemed weird at first, which had my doctors stumped and ultimately, I needed to make a choice. I really only had two forks in the road ahead of me. Accept my issue, and hope it didn’t get any worse, or fight it (medically), and accept whatever came next.
It was rather astonishing to me to realize that the main requirement for both forks in the road ahead was, acceptance. I chose to accept and fight.
The photo included in this post displays my nightly ritual of taping my right eyelid closed. A not insignificant side effect from a tumour removal surgery in 2018. Nerve damage caused my right eyelid to no longer blink. This is only one of many new realities I have needed to face and accept.
Human beings have an amazing ability to adapt and persevere. I am not special, I’m human.
A Shining Star
Surviving cancer is a journey,
A path that is fraught with fear and uncertainty.
It takes strength and courage to face each day,
To keep on fighting, no matter what may come your way.
It's a battle that's fought within,
A struggle to keep hope alive.
But through the pain and the hardship,
We find a way to thrive.
We may feel alone and adrift,
But we are not alone in this fight.
We have the love and support of those around us,
And together, we'll make it through the night.
So hold on tight, dear survivor,
For you are stronger than you know.
You are a warrior, a hero,
A survivor who's brave and bold.
You've overcome so much,
And you'll overcome even more.
For you are a survivor,
A beacon of hope, a shining star.
Written by Chat Open AI based on the request: write a poem about surviving cancer.
Even though I’ve been able to hold off the dreaded beast (cancer), at great personal cost to me and my family, I am diminished from the battle. For a long time I valiantly fought the emotional “Why me!” argument, winning and losing and winning again, as it goes. Though I’ve had some recent positive tests, my new struggle is to just believe in the good news that is offered to me. I’ll put it to you this way. Just imagine your fear of receiving a small static shock, you hate it. Even though you know it won’t kill you, it makes you jump. My anticipatory fear of my cancer returning is just like that, but the jolt is much, much worse.
I’ve been on this time bending rollercoaster for so long now that I easily lose track of the order of events. My smartphone photos and social media posts have literally become my memory map. If I’m struggling to remember an interaction or event, Facebook and Instagram are my first stops.
Another way of marking time is by making stuff, any stuff. Make what, you may ask. I don’t really know how to answer that question, because I make the weirdest things. I found a long tree branch while walking my dogs, and the branch magically became a hiking pole for my son, then another hiking pole for a friend. Are they good hiking poles? Did my son or friends ever mention that they had always wanted a hiking pole? Well, apparently that didn’t matter to me, I made them.
This week, I made stretchy bead bracelets with lettered blocks, which explains the rude photo that began this post. Again, no one asked for such a thing from me.
My wife regularly finds bags or boxes of things and kindly asks, “what’s this for?”. To which, after an inspection of the item, I pause and then reply, “Oh, that’s something I’m working on”, however it may be as much of a surprise to me. I may remember when I started working on that project, but the ‘why’ often remains a mystery.
My cancer support team calls what I’m experiencing, chemo-fog, chemo-brain, or brain-fog. A Harvard University medical researcher states;
Some of the most common symptoms experienced by cancer patients are memory problems, difficulties with multitasking, and reduced attention and concentration. Historically, cancer patients with these symptoms were often diagnosed with depression. Research over the past decade has revealed that many cancer patients experience such symptoms as a consequence of specific damage to the brain caused by either their tumor or their treatment.
While radiation to the brain has long been linked to causing cognitive difficulties, the effects of chemotherapy on brain structure and function have only recently been discovered. We now know that the majority of patients treated for cancer, including breast, lung, colon, and many other cancer types, experience difficulties with memory, multitasking, cognitive processing speed, attention, and concentration as a consequence of their treatment. The good news is that such symptoms may slowly improve over time in most patients.(https://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/suffering-from-chemo-brain-theres-hope-and-many-things-you-can-do-2019112018403)
That’s me in a nutshell, as they say. Although the very last sentence of the above paragraph, feels like the kind platitude cancer patients often receive. I understand that it’s meant to help prop up the patient when things get real bad. However, the longer your issue keeps you down, the less helpful it seems. Sorry, if I sound bitter about that one.
Anyway, the point of today’s post is that in spite of it all, I am still happy to still be here. I am thankful to be able to hug my wife and tell her that I love her. I’m grateful to be a friend and father to my adult children and express my love for them. Equally, my love for my family and dearest friends feels so raw on days like these. Some days really are harder than others. My true hope is that tomorrow will be better.
Thank you dear reader,
Nudge
It’s been one month since my most recent cancer surgery. I’m physically recovering well, but it weighs heavy on me. Being a patient is so much more than flesh and blood, there’s the addition of invisible scars on my soul.
There’s still a fire burning in my engine, and I am still driven to live a creative life. It isn’t easy to see past the pain and fear of cancer, but I’m determined to try. I can use my pain as fuel to keep the creative train on the tracks and roll’n along.
A page from the book of Nudge.
There are so many forms of mediation out there these days. I’ve tried quite a few methods and read plenty of self-help books, all to learn that none of them helped me meditate. Maybe successful meditation is different for everyone.
I’ve learned that I can clear my mind and feel at peace when I’m actively engaged in a task I enjoy, time slips away, I feel refreshed. To me it feels like time well spent.
Have you heard the phrase, “jumped the shark”, as in Evel Knievel or the Fonz? Some might equate my latest cancer surgery to something like that. However, that visual implies a quick action of risk and daring ending in a showy finish. I would say my experience has been more like a slow teetering, nervous walk across a creaking, barely safe suspension bridge high above a gorge of certain doom, should something go wrong.
As we’re still waiting for the pathology reports to come in, I would have to say that I’m only about half way across the bridge. I just hope I don’t meet up with a troll asking me what my favourite colour is.
I so badly want to put this struggle with cancer behind me and not let it define me. The first half of 2021 had me return to work and make a concerted effort to have a semi-normal life, but we know how that turned out.
So again, I’m looking forward to a time when cancer is not my main focus. Just two weeks after surgery and we are still waiting for the pathology report. Did they get it all out? The weight of that question is sometimes a little too much to bear at the moment.
I secretly want to feel like the tough guy movie star who doesn’t look back when the massive explosion goes off behind them. They are victorious, and cool. I want that feeling. I want to feel like I’m free of my chaotic past and that I have been Delivered From Evil.
That’s how obsessions start; Delivered From Evil (DfE) is now my umbrella working title for some personal creative projects. Starting with a bit of logo art. Why not?
The surgery was a success and now I’m at the beginning of a rather long recovery again.
Recovery is more than physically healing, it is a mental, emotional and spiritual process. After one week in the hospital I had healed well enough to go home. Being in my home with my wife and our sweet dogs felt like a dream, one that I wish will never end.
In addition to rest, I want to use this time to help my brain recover. I’ve had so many surgeries since 2012 that I feel like my memory and mental abilities have also been injured. So every day I will be spending time reading, writing, drawing and playing guitar. I need to stretch these mental muscles.
Yesterday I started working on art concepts my buddies in the band Lucifari, who will be writing new music. I’m very excited to hear what they come up with next.
The image shown in this article is based on key phrases given to me by Michael Atkinson (Band leader for Lucifari). The point of the image is not to be final art, but Michael will use it as inspiration to help focus his musical vision. I will continue to meet with him and produce more inspiration images and at a later point final packaging art will be created.
Stay tuned for more as I work through my healing.
The middle act is often sighted as being the darkest and the most engaging act, as it contains the major trials and obstacles the hero must overcome before they can achieve their goal.
I am currently in my own dark second act. Actually, my second act started long, long ago…in 2012 and has been extended until today; 2021. I will be going back under the knife for my fourth tumour resection surgery to the right side of my face. More accurately, it is the 49th medical procedure, not counting tests, scans and biopsies.
It’s rather hard to believe I endured all of the following, and still have cancer.
Dear Reader,
During my own personal isolation caused by cancer and now COVID-19, I unexpectedly discovered a fondness for carving.
Carving wood has a meditative power very different from other hobbies, like painting or playing guitar. I guess the fact that you rarely will lose a finger playing guitar certainly keeps you more deeply focused.
Where to start?
With few tools and a whim formed from watching random YouTube carving videos, I eventually made a spoon. I say made, instead of carved due to the lack of proper technique and the exhaustive effort on my part to finally produce a single spoon.
Still, I was encouraged to learn more and equip myself a little better. I picked up the following basic tools, so wish me luck that the next time we meet, I’ll have more spoons and all ten digits.
