DAY 1237 - Day 995 in Recovery Paradise

CANCER is an overwhelmingly fearsome and ugly enemy.

I have found that my mind can choose to play offense or defense in this unasked-for battle.  I was diagnosed with Tonsil Cancer in 2008.  Since I got my unwilling turn in the arena with this formidable (but, not unbeatable) giant, I have become a far more positive–minded person than I could have ever imagined. 

That said, I have not yet discovered anything that keeps the blues, worry, depression and fears of life totally away - it is more in the category of 'manageable'. I have tried them all (maybe some twice) – back in 1970, it might have been grouped under sex, drugs and rock-n-roll.  In 2011 it is closer to hugs, a half-glass of wine and rock-n-roll (some things remain constant – ha).

For a big and current instance - my throat got really sore yesterday in the exact same spot where I first discovered my tonsil cancer.  This was just out of the blue.  Interesting side note: In 2008, three years ago, when I was first diagnosed with Tonsil Cancer, we had just won a charity auction for a resort week in Vancouver, Canada.  I delayed starting my treatment to go on the trip. I was figuring it might be my last chance to do so (you know the 40% survival crap they feed you).

Fast forward three years – last week, we won the exact same resort vacation week at the 2011 charity auction (Orlando, Fla. next year) and I had all these flashbacks to 2008 and hunted up and re-read some of my early blogs – ‘Another Day in Paradise’.  I woke up yesterday with the same pain, in the same spot, in my throat as before.  I couldn’t even swallow water without grimacing. I have to honestly say that worry was creeping under the door, like an ominous, intimidating, eerie fog in a bad B movie, again.

Once treated, hopefully, we can live for another fifty years, but the worry never really goes away.  It is the wolf outside our door.  I can ease the daily worry of the wolf by building my mental house of bricks, but when I allow myself to think about it, even for a minute, my mind is capable of imagining that the damn monster is still sitting out there in the shadows, just beyond the gate.

So, I played my custom, motivational music CD.  I watched my new YouTube video of me finally learning how to play electric bass after fifty years and then actually playing in public with a couple of friends at the local pizza parlor. I read and re-read my best motivational books.  In addition to the world not ending on May 21, 2011 as predicted, today I am back to good as it gets - no soreness and no symptoms (I am drinking a cold one as I write to celebrate the very unappreciated miracle of being able to swallow without fears and tears). 

Our mind is an awesome and powerful tool. I figure that if nothing is really wrong, but involuntarily (at least sub-consciously) my mind can imagine that it something is, I must, conversely, have the same power to consciously invoke my mind to imagine that nothing is wrong, when I have a tendency to think that it might be. I feel that there will be time enough to deal with the real if (not when) it happens.

Depression and worry is an ugly and dark maze we conjure for ourselves.  We each have to find our own light to discover the way out of this maze or we will be consumed by it.  Life holds enough real issues to worry about without us adding to it with our over-active imaginations pitching in to help do the Devil's handiwork.

When I was trying to pull myself out of self pity, worry and depression following radiation and chemo treatment, I placed my borrowed motivational thoughts on 3 x 5 cards and posted them everywhere (literally – not figuratively), in every room of the house, on all the mirrors, the outside and inside of the cabinets, my sock drawer, next to the toothpaste, in the cars, even inside the refrigerator, ha.

Have you seen those commercials about how to go about learning a foreign language and so you put the Spanish word for everything on post-it notes throughout your house?  For me, it was akin to hanging garlic everywhere to ward off the vampires from the dark regions of my thoughts.  I highlighted certain positive words and phrases with a yellow marker (live forever, dream, win, perseverance, courage, defiance, success, 'every day is a gift', friends, love, appreciation, power, control. gratitude, etc.).

Sometimes, I would be near tears, because I was not in control of my life and things were happening to me I seemingly could not fix.  I would shuffle over to the nearest 3 x 5 card and read it as best I could (my eyesight was very messed up during radiation - normal for me is 20/1250 in each eye with high power trifocals; so I was half-way to blind already..ha).  

I would repeat it over and over (mentally only, as my mouth was so dry and my tongue was so sore I couldn't speak).  For those few seconds and minutes, I discovered I wasn't wallowing in self-pity.  I was not “THINKING” about my situation. I stepped it up and for me, it was a Godsend for a Type A personality control fanatic that was not in control. 

I had discovered that there finally was something I could proactively do to exert positive control over the out-of-control negative experience of Cancer and the ensuing kick-my-butt, but necessary, chemo and radiation treatment.  

Did it work all the time, 24-7? NO.  My mind-over-matter plan became increasingly powerful, but it was not invincible. On a really good day in the beginning, maybe 50% of my waking hours, I could successfully stave off the demons.  Because I couldn't sleep - I had a lot of waking hours, far more than I wanted. For me, it was far better to get up and do something, anything, rather than lie there, letting the hob-goblins into my thoughts, while everyone around me was sleeping like an innocent.

I liken the experience of proactive, positive motivation as a defense to hold off the enemies of your biggest battle until (for you old folks) John Wayne rides up (or for you younger folks) Gandalf on a white stallion, with ‘Thank God, they are here’ reinforcements.  We do what we have to do to, just to keep the enemy from coming over the walls and breaching our last barely defensible mental position. 

I had thought I was an Iron Man for going to the end of Cancer treatment without a feeding tube and still be able to sip soup and water and walk by myself to the bathroom.  Several trips to the emergency room and a four day hospital stay later after not being able to eat or swallow water for a week, I often felt that I was a beaten man.

My personal Goliath was not seemingly affected by my little sling full of motivational stones, but I kept at it, as it was the only weapon I had.  As I am not an overly religious man and any conversation with God to ask for divine intervention would have to have first been prefaced with a request for a explanation of why I got this damn Cancer in the first place.   My take-away from my early experience with the Bible had always been ‘God helps those who first help themselves’ and I always have had an inherent personal disapproval of being a whiner.

Finally, the day arrived when I was felt I just a tiny bit better than I was the day before.  Albeit, it was about two months after treatment ended.  That was the day for me that John Wayne and Gandalf and my reinforcements arrived with a little bugle blowing faintly in the wind.

My iPod with my positive, or at least, and my “you are not alone – I CAN relate to it" music was one of my new best friends. ‘Help’, by the Beatles was good for that.  Who knew that John wrote that for me?  I heard it at least a thousand times before I finally listened to it and have it touch me.

Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
My independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me.

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh.

While the whole song isn’t compatible with cancer survivor circumstances, how about  ‘Yesterday’, also, by the Beatles…

Yesterday, 
All my troubles seemed so far away, 
Now it looks as though they're here to stay, 
Oh, I believe in yesterday. 

Suddenly, 
I'm not half the man I used to be, 
There's a shadow hanging over me, 
Oh, yesterday came suddenly....

Zig Ziglar, Benjamin Franklin, Helen Keller, Roosevelt, Dale Carnegie, William Earnest Henly, Winston Churchill, John Lennon,Yoda, Hunter S. Thompson, Charles Bukowski and my favorite, ‘Anonymous’, became my newest and wisest best friends.  Their inspiration was there for me in ways I couldn't have imagined.

Has battling Cancer changed me forever?  I would say, Yes.  Will I still experience worry and doubt?  I have to say, Yes.  Will I find courage in having discovered my sword of positive motivation, forged in the midst of battle, from inspirational words of steel?  I say, Yes.  Will I succumb to future opportunities to experience depression and tears?  I hope not.

Should I ever pat myself on the back because of my new found strength and even begin to imply that I discovered this powerful mental ally to keep the demons at bay? 

I have friends that, as they have had more conversations with God than I have, would probably say  “You know Bob, because you did choose to help yourself, therefore, is it possible that God……..?”

rlw

DAY 1089 - Day 847 in Recovery Paradise

It is true that circumstances occur in each of our lives that we would not have chosen and cannot control. Cancer, accidents, weather, the economy, taxes, or the passing of a loved one, are all pretty much beyond our ability to personally control. We do, however, have a great deal of control over how we allow these uncontrollable events to impact our precious remaining TIME and of the duration of the moments in which we allow external events to affect us.

William Ernest Henley (Invictus)

"It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with Punishments the Scroll.
I am the Master of my Fate,
I am the Captain of my Soul.

Some of us walk out of a doctor’s office with the crushing, matter-of-fact, very cold and clinical words: “You have Cancer” echoing in our heads. We just got elected to a very exclusive club you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. 

Just as not everyone died in the internment camps in WWII, not everyone dies of Cancer. The odds are that the ones in those camps that successfully fought off the foreboding negative circumstance stood a better chance of survival than those that gave up and discarded hope. Being diagnosed with Cancer is no different. The greatest medicine you can treat yourself with is the proactive positive use of your mind. 

Everyone will die.  A fellow Cancer warrior inspired me with "I choose to beat Cancer and live long enough to die of something else".


Regardless of the length of time or circumstance, we should live our life with well-crafted intent. We should intend to be happy and satisfied. We should readjust our goals daily. We need to constantly fine tune our goals and plans to get that 'radio dial signal' of control to be just right. All musical instruments need to be regularly tuned to keep the sound the way it was intended. We should re-tune our direction daily to be the instrument for which we were intended.

TerriH

“So often we allow life to dictate to us how we live and what we do. We become a victim of our own circumstances with no purpose, design or intent. Living a life of intent means we take charge of our lives and direct ourselves to whom and where we want to be. Intent won't just happen it takes effort and commitment.”

Every golden moment of every given day has its value. How we decide to live that moment is truly ours, regardless of the circumstance of environment around us. 

Great musical works of art were created by Jewish composers while interred in concentration camps during WWII, while others around them lived their days in dark despair. The common man would never wish these conditions upon another human being,  however,  the unconscionable environment was the same for both. The deciding factor was one of human choice, living by intent, exerting personal control over seemingly uncontrollable circumstances.

Robert Frost

The Road not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

Sometimes a seemingly impenetrable roadblock like Cancer will appear in your chosen path. Accept the detour. Denial of truth does not change the truth.  Truth, by the way,  is only what we perceive it to be. Perceive this new truth as nothing more than an unplanned detour in your intended path. Make it your new path by choice, not by denial or submission. Enjoy the scenery along the new way. Acceptance and awareness and appreciation of the unappreciated ‘things’ you do have can be your gift, the silver lining in the cloud of Cancer. Focusing on what you don’t have at this point in your life will not make the circumstance disappear. You may discover that waiting for you on the other side of treatment is a life full of a renewed appreciation for the moments you do have.

When we embrace the fact that the most important "things' in our life are not really not things at all, we can then fully appreciate the daily gifts that are around us. Control the things you can. The number of them is staggering. The things we cannot control are few.

With reverence and apologies to the "Serenity Prayer", I offer an updated version sent to me by a friend...

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the one thing I can;
and the wisdom to know it's me.

Seek out the positive parts of your new path. Open your eyes to your new reality. Engage with the value of the new path. Check out the positive scenery that was probably there all along. On every roller coaster there are people crying in fear, sobbing "Make it stop". Seated next to them are people on the same ride with their arms thrust high in the air, whooping it up, having a pretty good time.


The path of life after being diagnosed with Cancer is a very scary ride. I am on it to the end. There is no getting off this path for any of us, with or without illness, until it comes to a full stop, seat backs up and the tray table folded into the seat in front of you. Then, and only then, do you get to unbuckle your seat belt and depart the ride.

Although my ride has unexpected and unasked for heights, drops and loops, I still have two choices. I have the choice to bury my head in my hands and cry "why me" or I can seek to find peace and pleasure in the view that has all the twists and turns while I still can. 

After all, we all only get one turn on this ride.

DAY 1048 - Day 806 in Recovery Paradise

2008 radiation start

2010 2 1/2 years later

Wow...over 1000 days since this long strange trip began.  My throat has been sore again for a couple of days in the same spot where it all began.  I can't help but go to the dark evil place my mind creates when this happens.  Lise says it is because I sleep with my mouth open and I will have a raw spot where the cancer was, forever.  When this happened two years ago, it seemed so innocuous, but turned out to be anything but that.  Maybe my doctor will forbid me to talk...ha.

Thanksgiving coming next week.  Holidays, in  particular have special meaning on the bright side of the dark chasm of a Cancer diagnosis.  I remember 2 years ago, hoping to have my first solid food in many months.  I still had the feeding tube in and felt like I had a walk-on part in the "Alien" movie series. I had graduated from water to nothing to feeding tube to soup.  I actually had turkey and mashed potatoes (with lots of gravy) on the 2008 holiday.  There was some serious "thanks" giving going on that day.

Family tradition dinners are getting smaller.  My three sons are grown men now with their own families and obligations.  They have discovered the joys of solid employment and will probably have to work that day.  My oldest and his family are in Idaho with snow up to there - forecast for Thanksgiving Day with the other two enjoying the blessings of employment with heavy work schedules through the holidays.

The newest addition to the Welton clan will be joining us in a bit over a week ...my new bun-still-in-the-oven grandson (lovingly referred to at this point as "skittle bean")...I can see that moniker lasting for a long time....will be here in about ten days.

For the most part, I feel good, glad to be here.

“Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."

Song of the Day:  "My Best Days are Still Ahead of Me"  Danny Gokey

DAY 944 - Day 794 in Recovery Paradise

 Two years ago today, I was still recovering from my chemo and radiation with a feeding tube to deal with.  We had driven to "Apple Hill", an area about 45 minutes away in the foothills dotted with beautiful apple farms.  It had and has been an annual trek in the early fall to see the color changes in the leaves, check out the craft booths and pick apples.

An excerpt from my blog on that day was:  "They were giving away apple slice samples at one of the stops. Without thinking, I accepted and popped one in my mouth and started chewing, not realizing that I couldn't do it. Miracle! I was able to eat it. I ended up eating two more entire apples. It's the first solid food I've had in three months." 

Tonight, I fixed stewed chicken and and garlic mashed potatoes with a big green salad with lime juice and Asian chili sauce dressing.  No way I could have had that two years ago.  Good progress.  Still have dry mouth and need lots of liquids...just may be a permanent thing.


I participate in an international on-line forum for tonsil cancer people (what is the proper word here: "patients", ":sufferers", "survivors", "D - all of the above?")  Two of our long time members have noted that cancer has come back more aggressively and in virtually untreatable areas- brain and lungs.  It is sad to see strong people beaten down, that rise up, only to be beaten down again. 


I am now re-purposed again as a result of reading their stories.  I am motivated to make a few more marks in my tiny portion of the universe while I can.  Last night, I enjoyed watching old VHS movies of my sons (now 26, 25, 23) when they were 1, 2, and 4.  Then I pulled out old 8mm tapes of my daughter (now 12) when she was 8 months old.  Great memories.  Now fixated on converting them all to DVD (soon to be replaced by ???) for posterity and an enduring legacy.


My oldest son now has a 3 year old son and another one soon to arrive.  We are getting Ian and Jen a new video camera to start a new generation of recorded memories.


"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." - Winston Churchill 

DAY 612 - Day 511 in Recovery Paradise

About this time last year, I had just started back to work and was working part time, four to six hours a day. I had my feeding tube removed and was glad to be rid of it. It saved my life, but I hated it. Every time I took my shirt off, I conjured up the movie “Alien”.

My throat was sore (still is-really sore this morning) and I got tired very easily. Except for an occasional day, I have great energy and exist on about 6 hours (or less) sleep a night. I have my about 2 year mark coming up for my check up with another CTscan. They say that 2 years and 5 years are major hurdles to be declared a survivor. As my throat is very sore this morning, I find myself playing the “what if” game. The “What if my cancer comes back” equation is rather short and has an inevitable ending. Can’t change it. However, the “What if I am cleared for another year and beyond?” has far longer-lasting possibilities and a different set of responsibilities that I can change and control. “Time’s a wasting – better get on it”.

I have found a new purpose for the divesting of my accumulation of “collectible junk”. I am setting up new college investment packages for my grandson Zak and expanding the one I have for my daughter Sarah. My eBay energies will perhaps end up at Yale one day.