In memory

One of the "followers" of this blog was a Canadian woman named Daria...her link is on the list of followers... I periodically check blogs that I've visited in the past...sometimes only once every few months. I checked her blog today to find her husband had posted that Daria had lost her battle with cancer this weekend. She had faithfully blogged about her cancer journey for a number of years, and had hundreds following her journey... it struck me again that many, many daily lose this battle, and though I am blessed and fortunate to have to this point been a survivor, I am also saddened and grieved by every loss. I read. I hear. I pray. God have mercy and bring comfort to Daria's friends and family, and friends and families of all who succumb to cancer. I pray those who lose this mortal battle find themselves encircled by His everlasting arms of love in joyful reunion.

follow me here

Hey, it is kind of you to be here....I have moved on to another blog, but please, feel free to browse around HERE first...it's been a long journey through cancer diagnosis, treatment, and recovery and I am happy and honored that you might wish to share some of that journey with me. I am also honored to have received the award you see to the right, and amazed that wonderfully caring people took time to follow my ramblings through the trials and turmoil of stage four throat cancer treatment...the comments left carried me through the most difficult year of my life.

So, whatever day or time it is right now, know this:

I
thank
God
again
and
again.

If you care to find me now (and I am still mindful of my cancer recovery, but not obsessed with it to the degree that I was here...here is my new address... http://blumswhispers.blogspot.com/

Post 142 - Journey's end...but another begins!

I debated about using that video clip, but I wanted to end with a smile, and how can you not smile at Porky Pig? Look at that face...he really seems to have come to terms with himself and his limitations...he seems... well... happy, doesn't he? I dont think he's hiding behind a facade...Porky's just livin' in the moment!

The time has come to wrap up this one year journey/blog. I just re-read my first entry, posted on July 30, 2009, and here is some of what I wrote:

I am one day into my life with a diagnosed carcinoma...a metasticized, undifferentiated squamous cell carcinoma in my neck, to be more precise. I await the PET scan next week to give me a more specific diagnosis, prognosis, and treatment protocol.

I am not by any means at home with this awareness...but as the hours go by, so does the sinking in process.
I have another awareness, and that is an abiding sense of love...from God, from my family, from the few friends I've confided in.
I depend on scripture and poetry and calm morning walks to lift my spirit.
I seek to deepen the deep things of my life.

Wow, has it been a long and interesting year! I am amazed to be sitting here typing a year later, in such good spirits. I made it! And I fulfilled my mission with this blog. You know, this may sound like a cliche, but I only made it with the love and support of God, friends, famly and readers. I've been more transparent than I ever could have imagined a year ago. When I re-read the post from last July, I was writing that the diagnosis was "sinking in," but looking back, I know I was naive, minimizing, and still mostly in denial.

It seems that's how I always start "journeys." Had I really known what I was in for...it would have been more than I could have handled at that point. I am grateful that only God is all-knowing!

So here I sit, one year later, with a good prognosis and a clean CT scan. Those of you who have travelled with me through this know I've moped and whined through some of this past year, and rejoiced and sang through other parts of the year. Cancer is a bitch! I am not trying to be cute. I realize how fortunate I am to have come through stage 4 cancer as a survivor to this point...the title of this post could easily have been cut off after "Journey's end." But, by the grace of God, I get to start another journey. So I take a deep breath, give thanks, and pray that I take the deeper things and lessons I have learned on this journey with me. I pray I enter the next with more compassion for those who suffer, be it physically, emotionally or spiritually. Although I can't bear to imagine it, I know if the journey would have taken a different turn, God would have provided the grace to enable me to deal with that...as it happened, moment by moment. I am going forward with a lot of gratitude in my heart. How blessed I am! I am humbled by all I've received.

Here's an invitation. I am not ready to quit blogging. It's too much fun, and too good a way to procrastinate when I have paperwork I should be getting done at my office to just let go of. So I will start a new blog for another year.

There was no particular name that jumped out at me; I only knew I wanted "cancer" out of the name. I thought, since I am just rambling most often, "word salad" might fit...but that's not very original...then "whisper salad" popped into my head. Not real creative, but it's my idea...so I'll start off with that.

And, if you care to join me...here's the link:

http://blumswhispers.blogspot.com/

Thank you so very much for travelling with me. You just can't imagine how much it means to me!

God bless you, friend!

Deeper things - Bless you, bless you - moving on down the information highway

I've been thinking about this blog in light of the good news I had from yesterday's CT scan results. It has been such an incredible journey! When I wrote my first post, which was just about one year ago (7/31/09), there were several things I had no idea about...

1. Just how difficult, painful, and traumatic the "treatment" process for my stage four cancer would be...yes, the radiologist tech warned me that 35 days of radiation to the throat was about the worst place to be zapped, and the ENT told me it wasn't going to be easy and I'd be pretty beaten up before it was over, and my oncologist told me I might be too physically weak to handle the third round of chemo (and thank God for my weakness...I was too weak and was spared round three)...but I had nothing in life to compare that to. My oncologist promised me I'd survive this cancer, but, initially, the thought of NOT surviving never even crossed my mind. How could a young, healthy guy like me die from a little tumor? Further, I was resistant to getting a "feeding tube;" thank God he talked me into it. In my ignorance I thought I would be tough enough (though I also knew I was a coward when it comes to pain) to eat and drink with a "sore throat." HA! Little could I imagine that at the height of my misery, there were days when even pouring a cup of water into the feeding tube was too much for me to think about. Swallowing? No, way! The lining of my throat was completely burned off, my saliva turned into rubber cement, and eventually turned off altogether, taste buds completely shut off, and infections in my mouth and stomach along with chemotherapy nausea and days upon days of sleeplessness left me a shell of a being...I don't recall writing this, but deep inside, I started thinking I was not going to survive the ordeal...I became too weak to walk from the hospital parking lot to the radiation and chemotherapy torture chambers...so for a period of time I was wheeled in a wheelchair from car to radiation room, strapped to a table, head immobilized in a plastic mask that was secured to the table, zapped, and wheeled back. My chore was then to survive the 50 mile car ride home, nodding on and off and trying not to be sick in the car. Let me tell you, if you have never been in such a state...it very much becomes an altered state of being...almost a trance like reality when who one was before this, or who one will be after this ceases to exist, and time sort of gets suspended in a foggy, jellylike state of discomfort, pain, and dysphoria that seems to have no beginning and no end. I put acorns on my windowsill to symbolize each day's passing for the 35 days of radiation, and pine cones for the chemotherapy days. It sounded like a good idea at first, like I was going on some hiking safari and would count the days away from clocks and watches in the "wilderness" with each new adventure gazing at the acorns and marveling. Well...I kept at it, and ended with 35 acorns and 4 pine cones on that windowsill, but, truth be told, in some ways, I really HATED those acorns...those acorns are in a jar hidden away, and I still haven't been able to look at them since treatment ended. Maybe someday the symbolic element that I hoped for with those acorns will inspire me. We'll see. They are just still too much a reminder of the ordeal right now.

2. Kathy - I promised Kathy at the onset that I would keep the blog about me... after all, if I wanted to make my private life public, it was my business, but it was NOT my right to make anyone else's life public. So I have kept references to Kathy and our marriage to a minimum. But I have occasionally lapsed (like right here). I had no idea how strong Kathy could be. When I needed her strength, she was a rock. I could only pray that I would be half as loving and strong and compassionate if, God forbid, she should ever have such an unfortunate need.

3. My twists and turns with Jesus - I can honestly say I had moments when I never felt closer to God... and I had moments when I never felt more distant and alone. At it's best, I felt His love in a way that is difficult to explain. Just as I was getting ready to begin treatment, I had the very real experience of hearing a voice in my head reciting a verse from a Psalm..."your love is better than life." It filled me with such peace and comfort that I knew it was going to be OK...His love would never abandon me, in life, or in death; and that was all I ever needed. And to be honest, at it's very worst...I had doubts about whether God even existed, let alone was mindful of this little speck of a being. I had moments of fear that somehow I was being punished for a lifetime of sin and falling short of His expectations, or that He just never really did care about me after all, or He just simply did not exist. But, then, I'd get some encouragement, sometimes from a blog post I'd write, or a comment I'd receive, sometimes from a Psalm I'd read, sometimes from a hymn I'd hear either on-line or in my head, sometimes from having a prayer time, sometimes from scripture that would invade my thoughts out of "nowhere" (ummm...thank you Holy Spirit). It all only confirms for me that God was with me throughout. In spite of my wanderings, rebellions, spiritual journeys and adventures and eccentricities... in my heart of hearts, I know...I know I was made for God. I don't know how else to say it. And my life doesn't make any sense at all without Him. Believe me, I know that to be true. I was made for God. I can't escape that reality any more than I can stop breathing. Oh, I can hold my breath for awhile, but hey, at the end of that, I'm breathing again. I can wish it weren't true, I can wish I could forget all about Him, I can try to think of Him as some projection of my own neediness, but ultimately, when I come to the end of myself, He is there. Without beginning, without end. In all His majestic glory. As it should be. He's there. I can't escape Him. And I just know it. And I love Jesus. I can't escape that either (nor can I even imagine ever wanting to, but I suppose...if Peter could deny Him, certainly I could as well). I just love Him. And His love completes and compels me. I have no good explanation, outside of His amazing grace, that He should be mindful of this undeserving little Jewish kid from Long Island, but it is my highest desire to know Him and conform my life to His. And His love is...well, I'll just say it...His love is deeper than cancer.

4. This blog - OK, I hope I can say this right. At first I thought it would be therapeutic for me to journal my experience with cancer treatment. I had often thought of journaling, but never, as an adult, took the plunge. Until now. Then I thought, "wouldn't it be neat for me, such a low-tech person, to figure out how to blog." I had stumbled on a blog written by a woman who had leukemia (who, by the way, has become a friend). I thought..."I'll just write my journal in the form of a blog. Others do it, so can I." I was amazed when I actually got it figured out and wrote my first post. I had no idea anyone would actually find it and read it. So... imagine my surprise when I got my first "comment." To date there have been roughly 9,000 visits to the blog. And 33 people signed up as followers... (to be honest...I have no idea what that means). I am not so grandiose to believe that this is any kind of big deal. There must be a gazillion blogs, and I know a lot of those 9,000 visits are repeat visitors. There are probably blogs written by dogs and cats that have more "visits" and followers. Who cares. But let me tell you...it IS a big deal to me. I score very high on every measure of introversion. I am not one to reach out or ask for help. This blog has been a lifeline when I have been withdrawing from the world. I have had friends, family, and COMPLETE strangers reading and posting comments. There have been people who visit regularly from states I have never been to nor did I know anyone within their borders. I've had visitors from about a dozen countries across several continents. Some probably came to the blog via a typo on an address line. Who cares. I have been touched, encouraged and deeply moved by anonymous comments, along with comments from friends and families. There were days when I really wanted to give up, crawl in some hole and die, when I read a comment that completely lifted my spirit. I believe God's hand was in this blog as well. Maybe yes, maybe no, but that's my hunch. And I have been so deeply moved and uplifted by the kindness and compassion all of you have shown me. For taking the time to read. Or comment. Or thinking of me or maybe lifting up a prayer on my behalf.

From the deepest part of my heart... God bless you, friends. I love you.

CHECKING IN - SO HAPPY - Turning my wailing into dancing

The"tumor board" of 20 physicians reviewed my scan this morning, and results showed no evidence of tumor or cancer. My tonsils were assymetrical, with slight inflammation, but they said that was not a big concern at this point, and it could just be post-treatment inflammation or maybe I had a slight respiratory infection like a mild cold when I did the scan. But, NO TUMOR. Oh. thank you God. I am breathing again. I will follow up every 3 months, and maybe they'll do another scan in a year or so. WOW! WHAT GLORIOUS NEWS!!! I am between clients right now, so I need to keep this brief, but I plan to post again today or tomorrow.

Thank you so much for caring enough to read this, and helping carry me through this stormy trial. More on that later today...

Right now, I need to spend a few minutes on my knees thanking God.

-------- Psalm 30---------

1 I will exalt you, O LORD,
for you lifted me out of the depths
and did not let my enemies gloat over me.

2 O LORD my God, I called to you for help
and you healed me.

3 O LORD, you brought me up from the grave;
you spared me from going down into the pit.

4 Sing to the LORD, you saints of his;
praise his holy name.

5 For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.

6 When I felt secure, I said,
"I will never be shaken."

7 O LORD, when you favored me,
you made my mountain stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.

8 To you, O LORD, I called;
to the Lord I cried for mercy:

9 "What gain is there in my destruction,
in my going down into the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?

10 Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me;
O LORD, be my help."

11 You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

12 that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.