Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the month “September, 2019”

11 Sep 2019

I Will Always Remember


There are moments in our lives, that will forever change our perspectives, our fears, but hopefully not who we are.

I was not born when John F. Kennedy was shot.  And I was too young to understand the Vietnam war when it happened.  The first major event in history during my life, occurred in January of 1986, the space shuttle Challenger disaster.  I was working retail in a mail, when the mall music was interrupted by an announcement, that left everyone inside of my store, standing silent.  The Challenger had exploded shortly after lift off, killing all members aboard.  You could tell the impact this had on everyone, even without seeing it on a television, the description of the event, the horrific tragedy, the loss of the crew.  This particular mission was special because for the first time, it had a regular civilian as part of its crew, a teacher.  I do not remember how long we all stood in silence, not moving, paralyzed but what we could only imagine what others were seeing.

September 11, 2001 would be the second day in my life, that I would not forget where I was, what I was doing, and what had happened.  Only this time, I witnessed it, live on television.

Like everyone else that day, just going about our normal routines, I was at work.  We had a regularly scheduled break at 8:55am, but it was not unusual for some to begin their break earlier.  I had made my way downstairs to our smaller break room area, a small nook with four chairs, a counter top, and a small television.  As I turned the corner after exiting the elevator, I was surprised to see a huge crowd bursting from the limits of the small area.  Perhaps a birthday was being celebrated or some other reason for so many to be present.

As I got nearer, I could tell there was no celebrating.  In fact, everyone was quiet.  The attention of all was directed at the small television that normally was a source of fun and laughter.  Except for this time.

We could only watch the NBC affiliate out of Philadelphia.  The Today show had just announced that a plane had crashed into Tower 1 of the World Trade Center.  At the time, all we could think about was how awful a tragedy this was to have happened, what could have caused the jet to fly so low, and not be able to avoid the skyscraper.  And as quickly as some started to theorize about a possible terror attack, we all witnessed the second plane crashing into the second tower.

Though the broadcasters would not come and say it, each and every one of us in that break room, and likely in the world, knew we were under some sort of attack.  By who, by what?  We all watched and waited to see where the next target would be.

We all just continued to stand around watching this even unfold, as emergencies were declared, restrictions put in place, and then even more unthinkable, the collapsing of the towers, and two more planes crashing, all determined to be part of the same terroristic plot.

Our break time had rolled into our lunch break at 11am before any of us knew it.  We were all in shock.  How could this be?

I lived two hours away from New York City, but I had traveled there plenty of times.  And I will never forget the first time I came out of the Lincoln Tunnel, seeing the new skyline, without the Twin Towers.  But my memories of that day pale in comparison to those who lost loved ones that day.

Another first for me, knowing someone who had perished in such a historical, and tragic event.  Throughout the different aspects of my life, I would quickly realize those who had been on those fateful planes, first responders – people who basically went into a war zone, and friends who either lived in Manhattan or worked there.

We are reminded every year to “never forget.”  Whether there in person, or viewing the tragedy on television, this is something impossible to forget.  My daughters are now at an age in school, they are learning about what happened that day, before and after.  To talk about this with my daughters, I have the same emotion and impact, as when my grandparents would tell me the day the bombs were dropped on Japan, and yes, when Kennedy was shot.

I know I am not the only one who never wants to see another “9/11”.  And that is why it is important to never forget.  To never let it happen again, and to remember all who lost their lives, and those who lost loved ones.

Posted in Bullying, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Politics | Leave a comment
10 Sep 2019

The Observation


Something strange has been happening with me this year.  I do not know why just this year.  I am not doing anything differently than I have for fifty-three years.  It is not something I publicly talk about, unlike other topics about myself.  And if it only happened one time, I would probably just think it was a coincidence.  But since February, it has now happened four times.

Around President’s weekend, I had been visiting with a friend with my daughters.  We were inside a small shop when a complete stranger came up to me.

Stranger:  Excuse me.  But are you Native American?

Yep.  Not even a “hello”, just jumped right into it.  Now a little known secret up until now, yes I am, or at least partially.  But the question caught me off guard.  I do not really discuss my heritage with anyone, just my daughters, who happen to be Asian.  So I have the discussion with them to teach them the importance of knowing your culture.  I believe the conversation came up once when I was in elementary school, and of course the kids in school relentlessly mocked me, which became why I never discussed it publicly again.

Stranger:  I didn’t mean to offend you.  I was just curious.  I study indigenous cultures.  And I just noticed your strong features.  Do you know if you are of Native American background?

Me:  Yes I am.  (I intentionally gave a short answer, being totally weirded out).

Stranger:  By any chance, are you of Cherokee background?

Now I was totally baffled.  My great grandmother was Cherokee.  I have known this my whole life.  I have just never publicly acknowledged it, or made any kind of issue out of it.  As far as anyone was concerned, I identified as a Caucasian.  Sure, my skin color is slightly darker.  But if I am being honest, I really never saw any particular characteristics that would point out a Native American background.

Well, at least until I started growing my hair back out again.  For a long time, I kept it very short.  The last time I kept my hair long, no one ever mentioned or inquired about my background.  But I suppose I can see some Native American in my photos.

So, more of a curiosity, how did my great grandfather meet, get involved with, and marry a Cherokee Indian woman?  I am not well versed on racism, other than the blatant examples we see on the news every day, but I do know in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, racism still existed.

First, you need to understand the history of the Cherokee woman.  Cherokee women were considered equal to Cherokee men in all aspects of life.  Something that American women of today still do not have that right.  Financially, spiritually, sexually, Cherokee women were respected as equals to men.  Crimes against Cherokee women by Cherokee men were rare, especially rape.  Family ancestry actually was guided by the women.  Because of land owned by the Cherokee, it was profitable for white men to marry Cherokee women, as it was the Cherokee women who owned and were in charge of the land in most cases.  I have only recently begun to study more of the interesting history.

I am enjoying the research I have now given myself to do.  And out of the four people who approached me, I have an uneasy feeling that three out of the four had other issues other than genuine curiosity about me, with the fourth actually stating she had an educational background.  It is a fact that bigotry and racism are escalating again, and I would like to hope, that I was not experiencing it because of my background.  As I mentioned to a classmate of mine, still friends after all these years, “you finding out that I have a Native American background does not affect or change how you know me, does it?”  The obvious answer was, “of course not.”

Posted in Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By... | Leave a comment
06 Sep 2019

Preparation For Chemo – Part 2


So the first pre-chemo testing I underwent was for my future life after cancer.  The next set of testing was to determine my body’s ability to tolerate two particular drugs in the chemo cocktail.  Newbies will likely recognize the drugs, Bleomyacin, and the other, Adriamyacin.  I would be given seven total drugs, four at one appointment, the other three the following week.  Both of these two particular drugs would be administered in the second week of the cycle.  Blood tests would be done weekly for the duration of my treatment schedule, eight months, or “cycles” in the cancer world.  Any delay makes it longer than the months, so that is why “cycle” is used.

As far as the drugs and what they do, what they cause and such, that will be in an upcoming post very shortly.  But in preparation for the chemo, what you have read here, is basically all the knowledge that I had at the time.  All that was explained to me, was that the two drugs mentioned above were known to potentially cause issues to the body.  Adriamyacin could have an impact on the heart, and Bleomyacin could affect the lungs.

Now here is where progress has changed from 1989.  In 1989, the tests that would be administered to me, would be for the purpose of seeing if my heart and my lungs would be strong enough to take the pounding from the drugs.

A MUGA scan would reveal the blood flow in my heart.  A pulmonary function test would determine how strong my lungs were.  Again, it was this simple.  With both tests completed, and results negative, chemotherapy would begin as soon as scheduled.  As expected, I had no issues with either test.  My heart was strong and so were my lungs.  Chemotherapy would begin in days.  I was handed several pamphlets with information on the drugs I was going to be given and my appointment was made.

And that is what I knew then.

This is what I know now.  One of the few times I will spoil my story (you already know my long term health issues from my treatments), this is what these tests now provide.  Yes, they still confirm that your body is strong enough to take these drugs, but they also serve as a “base-line.”  In other words, the numbers on these tests, will be compared following future cycles, and if anything comes up like complications.

You see, the Adriamyacin, though critical in the standard treatment regimen, has the potential for damaging the heart so badly, you could end up with CHF, congenital heart failure.  The drug damages the heart so badly, that if left undiscovered, a heart transplant is necessary.  And you cannot get a heart transplant for up to five years post-chemo.  Unfortunately for me, and for those not considered “newbies,” we were not followed up this way.  Whatever happened at the end of our treatments happened.

But I reported on an earlier post a long time ago, technology available, that can discover this damage after the first or second treatment, before it gets too bad.  This would allow either a modification of the dose, or use of a different drug.  A simple ultrasound after each cycle can keep track of this progress.  To be fair, this issue affects only roughly 5% of the patients, so until recently, it was not considered that big of a concern.  That is, unless you are one of the ones facing CHF.

Both tests are easy to go through.  They are non-invasive, and over in minutes.  But the information that they provide prior to, and now during, and after, is critical.

In part 3 of this series, an epic showdown with my oncologist that almost stopped my treatments.  One of the few times I have been able to prove… there is an “I” in “team.”

 

Posted in Cancer, Education, Inspired By..., Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment

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