Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the month “December, 2020”

19 Dec 2020

Double Nickels – What A Ride!


Thirty-two years ago, I was told I had Hodgkin’s Disease (now called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma so it is not as scary sounding), cancer.  I was twenty-two, just turning twenty-three.  When it came to any conversation about surviving cancer, it happened with a time frame, five years.  Statistics on cancer survivorship were based on a magical five year mark.  What happened after that five year mark, we never asked.  And if you were a cancer survivor, we just assumed the risk.  That is, until the internet came along.

Over the decades, I have met so many survivors of not just Hodgkin’s, but other cancers as well.  I have seen the barbaric testing methods now gather dust, and newer and safer treatments being used to treat the cancer I once had.  All the while this is happening, another year of survivorship sneaks up on me.  And another, and another.

Longevity does not run very high on my father’s side of the family, so adding cancer survivorship, thought for sure that would drive my odds down.  Yet, I hit that milestone 50th birthday, and this past March, I recognized my 30th year in remission of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

But my most important blessings, and there are two of them, are the daughters I never thought I would ever have in my life, from beginning to today, to tomorrow.  The last decade and a half has been difficult for me with my health, with all kinds of challenges related to side effects from my treatments.  But my daughters keep me focused.  My shell makes it difficult for anyone to understand what my body is going through, not realize the limits and the conditions that I deal with because you cannot see below the shell, that only doctors, images, and I know are there.  That is why I do not try to concentrate too much on numbers.  But milestones are kind of hard to ignore.

The inside joke with my daughters, is that I do not admit my age, rather “color it”, referring to a mathematical equation that will total my actual age.  But this year, there is a funny reference to this age, “double nickels” referring to two 5’s.  This birthday is unavoidable to not recognize the actual age.

I have had a few rough weeks, with the passings of several of very close, fellow survivors, either my age, even younger.  No one appreciates or recognizes their mortality, more than I do.  But, I am doing all I can, my doctors are doing all they can, my loved ones are doing all they can, to make sure that I continue on, get to see many more birthdays, and more importantly, these milestones…

pay attention trolls, this message is for you…

I will see my daughters graduate from high school.  I will see my daughters receive some form of continuing education and have a bright future of their own.  If my daughters choose to get married, I will be there to walk them down the aisle.  And if I am blessed even further, with grandchildren, like many of my other survivors, I will be there to hold them.  And a bonus, though I do not have it set on the calendar on “Paul’s Heart,” I do plan on making 50 years cancer free.

I may not be able to drive 55, but I can admit that I am glad I made it to 55.

Posted in Adoption, Animals, Bullying, Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Politics, Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
18 Dec 2020

Last Christmas, Or The Next Stage?


It was inevitable really.  This memory came up for me today.

2013 was a difficult year emotionally for many reasons.  My father had been recently diagnosed with cancer.  My health had been struggling for the last year and a half, more so than prior years.  I had also initiated my second divorce.

This would be the last “Santa” photo taken of my daughters, an annual tradition.  My older daughter, the trooper since discovering that I was Santa Claus, still went along with these photos anyway.  But this was also the year that my younger daughter began to have her doubts about the man in red.

And that is when it started, the need to “cling on” as hard as I could.  You could see how much it meant to her to have that one thing that while so impossible to believe was real, still wanting to give all she could, to believe in the impossible, that maybe things that had been going on around her, though seemingly impossible, might be possible.

Although a baptized Christian, I do enjoy the Santa Claus lore.  I like the meaning.  And as I had one daughter who no longer believed, and another wanting to, I felt it was time to change, to adapt what the story of Santa Claus was really about, giving.  And so, I instilled in both of them, that Santa Claus while in the presence sense may not be real, his spirit definitely is, and it is something we all possess.  My daughters learned the importance of the season of giving at that moment.  Santa Claus would live on.

Like many households dealing with divorce, another change would come with observing Christmas.  The goal still to be as enjoyable for the children.  Clearly different than what they had experienced previously when they were younger.  For some, it is part of the day with one parent, part of the day with the other.  Then there are those who actually split the Christmas holiday week between parents.

But hold on.  Then the children turn eighteen, graduate high school, and move away to college, perhaps find a significant other.  Another change.  And in the world of divorce, time already split to a minimum with either parent, the holidays morph into yet another stage, perhaps not even making it home for the holidays, while your child, the one you have spent every holiday with, informs you that they are going to meet the family of their heart’s interest.  This is the stage that I am preparing for next.  One daughter near that age, another not far behind.

And peering into my Norman Rockwell crystal ball, eventually, I will be the one making the annual holiday trips to not only see my daughters, but their own families as well.

And who knows, maybe I met get to dust of the red suit once again.

Posted in Adoption, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Recreation | Leave a comment
17 Dec 2020

The Power Of The Pet


I have always believed in the power of pets and healing, at least comforting, which is just as important.

This is one of only two photos I am aware of, from my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma days over 30 years ago.  Just prior to beginning my chemotherapy, I adopted a calico kitten and named her “Pebbles.”

There was just something so soothing about the purr, close to your ears, the feline vibrations soft enough to massage the physical stress away.  And though she spent lots of time doing “kitty things,” it was her behavior once I started chemotherapy that I will never forget.

On a regular basis, as I entered the door of my apartment, she always rushed to greet me.  But after my chemotherapy appointment, I “rudely” rushed by her, ignoring her, to get to the bathroom to deal with the nausea that as expected, was about to hit me.

She followed me to the bathroom, like many pets do.  Only, you could see, she was confused that I did not seem to be using the toilet like I normally would.  I was unable to pet her or give her attention.  And there she sat, just staring at me.  When I was done heaving, exhausted, it took every ounce of strength I still had left to get to my bedroom, and crawl into bed, shaking from the physical tension and muscle tightness all over.  Everywhere hurt.

As I lay in bed, Pebbles came up onto the bed, laying on my wife’s pillow (to be clear, 1st wife) until she came home from work, keeping watch over me.  This became the ritual for the next eleven treatments, every time.

Pebbles was not the first pet to have an impact in my treatment and recovery.  I had a golden retriever named Pollo.  Unbelievably loyal, Pollo went everywhere I went.  Except one time.  And that was in 2008 when I had to have open heart surgery to save my life from damage caused by treatments years earlier for my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

We were known to roughhouse with each other, battling over who would be “alpha.”  This made me nervous as I made the trip home from the hospital, after six days recovering, my breast bone, still precariously sore and obviously not healed.  I had no idea how to prepare for Pollo, because when I came home from work, he often jumped on me to greet me at the door.  This could not happen when I walked in the door.  But how would I control his excitement.  We had never been apart.

I could feel my heart race as I opened the door, and here he came, he was definitely happy to see me.  And then his pace slowed, soon approaching my side, and standing there, allowing me to have the opportunity to pet him calmly.  As I was assuring him that I was home, and I would be okay, it would be as if he was trying to let me know, he was there to take care of me.  No matter where I was sitting, he would lay at my feet.  If I was laying down, he was laying by my side.  I could always count on him being there for me.

It did not have to be my own dog either.  During one of my many trips to the hospital, I was often visited by fur friends who stopped in just to say “hi.”  You can immediately feel the weight lift off you when you are approached by one of these four-legged caregivers.

Yes, medicine plays a big part in your care.  So does faith, if that is what you believe.  Support from family members, and of course, your actual caregivers from nurses to doctors are important.  But just as important, in care and recovery, are our fur friends.

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

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