Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the month “November, 2025”

When Diabetes Can Be A Choice


(photo courtesy of HealthyWomen)

November is Diabetes Awareness Month. This is another box I check when it comes to my health as I am a type 2 diabetic. I was not always this type of diabetic. It was something that developed over the last many years of my survivorship, in fact, I go as far as connecting it to my late side effect issues from my treatments for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Type 1 diabetes did run in my family, but not type 2. And it was not until about fifteen years ago, when type 2 diabetes appeared on the radar. I am always of the mindset, if it was not something I was born with, does not run in my family, and happened post-cancer, then it gets connected to that period in my life. Honestly, I am not really about the “why” stuff happens, I prefer to be “what do I need to do about it?”

What is the difference between type 1 and type 2 diabetes? I am not going to get lost in the weeds explaining the technicalities, but with type 1, the body has a lack of insulin caused by the body’s own immune system destroying insulin-producing cells, causing that shortage. As a result, type 1 diabetics need to monitor their blood sugar and give themselves insulin shots. They also have strict diets as well as other behavior recommendations such as exercises and avoiding certain vices. A type 1 diabetic knows they are type 1 as their symptoms are better recognized, but also severe and quick.

Type 2 diabetes is a resistance to insulin, the body either does not make enough insulin, or it does not process the way it needs to. A type 2 diabetic does not need to do insulin shots necessarily, but should monitor their blood sugar. Side note, as I have written before, this is one thing I am unable to do, as I have written about previously and recently.

Both types of diabetes carry their own potential issues ranging from cardiac to circulatory, optical, and so on. Cardiac can lead to heart disease, circulatory can result in amputation due to “gangrene”, and a condition with the eyes called diabetic retinopathy, where blood vessels in the eye become damaged, causing issues from blurryness to floaters, and possibly loss of vision.

As I mentioned earlier, I attribute my type 2 diabetes to my late effects from treatments. It was about fifteen years ago when my doctor began to monitor my “A1C”, which measures the blood sugar levels over the last three months, so an average of what diabetics check daily. Now here is the thing about the A1C with me, I thought I was being smart. I learned early on, that I could impact my blood tests, when fasting was required, by avoiding things such as cholesterol and sugar, through the week before the blood test, and have great results. The A1C put a stop to that, because while I could have a great blood sugar reading, the A1C proves otherwise.

Initially, my number was around 5.5, which was considered normal, but close to pre-diabetic. Over the years, my A1C would creep higher capping off six years ago at 9.0, full type 2 diabetic. The pancreas is one of the few body organs in me that has not been studied for impacts from my treatments, though I do see an endocrinologist. The loss of my spleen from the staging process of my cancer as well as my thyroid being impacted from treatments, also caused issues with my metabolism which has likely contributed to this.

There are other factors that impact the A1C, such as activity level (exercise), weight, diet, and stress. Medication was also prescribed for me, some that I could afford, some that I could not. I currently take two pills which have lowered my A1C somewhat, while not a great impact, lower is better regardless. Exercise for me is limited to walking. I have lowered my weight to its lowest in thirty years, but I have plateaued as I often do when I get to this level. I do not eat a lot of sugar and the one vice I did have, Coca-Cola, I have all but given up. I do not drink alcohol, do not do drugs, and I don’t smoke. And in recent years, I have finally managed to reduce my stress by 95% and how I respond. My result last month showed my A1C now at 7.4, not great, but going in the right direction.

As for my eyes, I see an eye specialist as well. Nothing has been decided on the retinopathy, though treatment has been talked about in the future. I do have damage to my eyes from the high dose prednisone that I was on during my chemo. And most obvious, I can tell my vision is getting worse.

From the cardiac standpoint, I seem to be holding my own. All my “bionic” repairs to my heart are holding their ground, though new diagnosis have come, but with everything else I have done, I am going in the right direction. I do plan on getting my A1C back into normal range within the next two years.

This Year Feels Different


I really cannot explain it. I can normally feel what time of year it is as Thanksgiving approaches. It is a time that I normally dread. For whatever reason, this year feels different.

Keep in mind, the details that I am going to write, are as fresh and clear as when they occurred, back in November of 1988. I was twenty-two years old. I had a good job working for an appliance parts distributor. I was engaged to be married. Everything was going great. And then it wasn’t.

I was sitting at my desk, when I had an itch behind my left ear. As I scratched it, I realized that there was a lump at the base of my skull where I was scratching. I saw my family doctor who felt I had a cold, and this was just a swollen lymph node. After a course of medicine, the node went down in size, but then I developed pain which led me to another doctor. And it was this doctor who put me down a path that would change my life forever, that is, once he could convince me, that his hunch was correct. While today I consider myself a good advocate for my health, back in 1988 I was my own worst enemy with as much denial as I threw at not just that doctor, but five more denials with doctors that followed. Six doctors in total, all in agreement, made the recommendation that I get that lymph node, now swollen back to its size when it was discovered, just might be cancer. All of the doctors from general practitioners to sports medicine to an oncologist (I had no idea what that was when I had my appointment), wanted the nodule biopsied, which I finally agreed to.

It was the Monday before Thanksgiving when I had the biopsy done. Bloodwork and x-rays showed nothing to this point, and I felt the doctors were also wrong, and the biopsy would confirm that. And that was the beginning of my disdain for this holiday period around Thanksgiving and Christmas. The biopsy revealed that I had cancer, Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Definitely nothing to be thankful for.

I go into more details in my book. Today I want to go in a different direction with this post than what I have in years past. Like I said, this year is different for me.

It has been thirty-seven years since I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I remember every conversation, procedure, treatment, side effect, and struggle. I remember every heartache of friends who “disappeared” rather than stay in touch with someone who had cancer. I remember the fights against discrimination and for health care. I remember being treated like I was not going to live even after I was told I was in remission. I remember every detail, vividly. This is what makes it so hard for me each year around this time, I have never forgotten what I have gone through. My story is not unique. So many have their own cancer story, many stories worse than I faced.

But this year is different, and with a purpose. Not considered a milestone or even a rounded number, for some reason, year thirty-seven, I have a different outlook (and I do not know why), and I have a message I want to share for anyone going through cancer, or regardless if in the early stages of remission, or in long term remission. Life is good after cancer.

One thing that a cancer patient is not told by their oncologist, and I really wish would be told, as mental health is just as important to beating cancer as the chemotherapy or radiation therapy, all a cancer patient wants to do is get through treatments, and then get back to their lives, picking up where they left off. The reality is, there is no going back to the life that was. And that is not necessarily a bad thing. Once finished with treatments, a cancer survivor begins their life anew, creating a “new” normal. In fact, I can say, I actually have begun several new normals throughout my survivorship. My point is, my life never returned to what it was and there are times that I miss that past life. But my life what it is now, is what it was meant to be, and as of right now, has been exactly what I wanted. And I definitely want more.

The fact that I have been blessed for four decades to witness the amazing progress in diagnostic and staging processes, and newer theraputics in the treatment of my cancer that everything that I went through, which is now obsolete or at best, rarely done anymore. I underwent brutal and invasive procedures such as the staging laparotomy and lymphangiogram and the bone marrow biopsy just for staging purposes. Oh how I wish we would have had the option of the PET scan back in 1988.

Or how about the option of the port for chemotherapy as opposed to being stabbed repeatedly trying to insert the IV needle into veins being destroyed from the toxic chemicals? I did not have that option. And today I am a nightmare for any tech trying to get blood from me as I have no working surface veins for blood draws or IV placement.

And then, there are the treatments. Even back in my day, the amount of radiation and the toxicity of the chemotherapy, it was believed could actually kill us. This was justified because without treatment, we would die anyway. But now medicine has figured out how to treat more, with less, less radiation and newer methods such as proton versus photon, and the elimination of many chemicals once respected as “the cure” but at the ultimate cost, to a standard regimen now used for decades, a lesser toxicity and providing similar results or better for remission.

So let’s talk about life after cancer, long after cancer since it rarely if ever gets any attention. I have accomplished so much in four decades. As I said, nothing like my life before cancer. I finally found a career. I bought my first house. I travelled all over the country and even travelled to the other side of the world to build my family with the adoption of my two daughters. I wrote a book about my life with and after cancer. I dabbled in local politics running for our local school board. And I had the best dog.

I never liked being referred to as a fighter or warrior. I never asked to be put into this position. I was literally thrown into it challenged to survive or die. I was not brave or courageous to go through all the procedures and treatments. I did what I needed to do just as I do today when I am faced with one of my late side effect issues. Each time something comes up, I have two choices, I can either sit back and let life just happen to me, no matter how bad, or I can make the decision to push back and fight. I am tired. I am exhausted and fatigued. I am in pain. But to quote the late great Tom Petty, “I won’t back down.” I make the decision every day, I want another day. I go to bed each night, not dwelling on the bad stuff, but preparing myself for what I need to do tomorrow. If I do not wake up, I will never know that things were not completed. But if I do wake up, then I have stuff to do.

If you want to know if someone can beat cancer, if you want to see what life can be like after cancer, much to the chagrin of many, I have been as public as I can be, sharing all aspects of my survivorship, hopefully providing the inspiration that it is intended to do. It is my hope, that whether you follow me on my blog here, or on TikTok, YouTube or wherever, if you have my book or have heard me give a speech on cancer survivorship, I hope that if anything really brings it on in, because as this survivorship number gets higher, it really is feeling different for me this year. And I am actually looking forward to this year’s holiday season without any reservation or fear.

Seriously, how could this journey have begun thirty-seven years ago? I don’t even think I look thirty-seven years old…do I?

A Regret? Really… Not Really


(photo via Central Bucks Now)

If there is one “rite of passage” for a teenager, it is earning the right to drive a car. I earned my license nearly forty-five years ago at the age of sixteen, and without an accident until my car was t-boned (my car hit from the side), I have never had a car accident. But, in the later teen years in my life, I lost three classmates, in three separate car accidents, while still in high school, or soon after.

As a parent, of all things watching my daughters grow up, my daughters in a car, alone or with others, was and still is my worst nightmare. Not for their lack of ability or skill, both have tried to get their license, gotten as far as obtaining their learning permits, but circumstances unintentionally have given me relief, cushion, or excuse, from going forward with earning an actual driver’s license. Am I sorry about that? Well… kind of, and kind of not.

The logic behind their lack of driving status is clear. With my divorce, being able to afford car insurance for both, a car payment for both, maintenance and gas for both, as they say, “money doesn’t grow on trees.” There was just no way to afford allowing them to drive. Then there was also the fact that both planned and do attend college in a major city, where driving is not an option, having to rely on public transportation such as trains, subways, and Uber/Lyft. And when you look at that, all are cheaper than using a driving license. To me, I expressed to them, that it made no sense to pay expenses for a car, likely only to be driven a handful of times, for four years. Financially it was throwing good money after bad. Car insurance alone would cost $10,000 or more while they are in college. There is no harm with them going for their license after graduation, and once they have decided where they are going to live, and if owning a personal vehicle is financially the right thing to do. To be clear, this only eliminates the worry of them driving and something bad happening, not them being in a car with someone else.

I receive newsfeeds from several areas that I have lived, and almost weekly, there is a tragedy involving a car accident involving young drivers. Most recently, an accident involving four teenagers, with only one survivor. Details are still under investigation, but only one thing has been made known, the driver was an unlicensed 15-year old (the legal age to drive in the state is 16), was driving the car when it lost control into the path of an oncoming vehicle. There were three other passengers in the car ages, 14, 16, and 18. Three of the children in the car were killed, the fourteen year old’s condition not currently stated.

Besides the fact that the 15 year-old was driving illegally, there are laws in the state restricting passengers in a car when the driver is of such a young age. And as most adult drivers know, there is a lot going on in a car with friends besides paying attention to the road. Responses to the accident from observers range from empathy to shock, criticism and just plain cruelty. And just as with others, before a full conversation can be had on this accident, another will occur taking attention away from this one. Bottom line, there are so many things wrong with this situation. This tragedy did not have to happen. And let’s not forget, the innocent driver who hit the car, killing three of its passengers all because of illegal and immature decisions.

There was an accident here where I live, involving a teenager who crashed his car into a tree, losing control of his car at a high rate of speed. Again, the outpouring of empathy was immense, but so too was the judgement from many about the type of expensive car, and the cause of the accident. And it would be the response from a family member that had me shaking my head, WTF!!!. The teenager was racing down a three-lane road at a high rate of speed, not accidently, but something he clearly did often. How did I know this? A response from a family member, “he loved racing his car. He died doing what he enjoyed.” Again, WTSF!!! How could a family member, or even the kid himself have such little value of life to make the decision to get into a literal killing machine, drive it recklessly on a public road, just because it is what they enjoyed doing?

We have driving laws, especially for teenage drivers, that take into consideration experience and maturity levels. But laws only work when they are followed. That means it falls on the parents to make sure their teens know and respect the laws of the road. What happens though when the parent is not in the car with their teenage driver? Nothing was said in the news report of the recent article with the fifteen year old driver, if either of the two older teenagers had a driver’s license? Whose decision was it that put the fifteen year old in the driver seat and why? Are the parents who are mourning being held accountable enough for a fatal decision they were not even present for?

It is a parent’s worst nightmare. And because of my own experience as a teenager with these kinds of tragedies, I know I have done all I can to at least reduce the likelihood of this happening with either of my daughters. Have I ruined a part of their lives by not allowing them to drive, or just inconvenience myself not having someone to run errands for me? They do not seem to have missed out on anything not having a license. And I know that both have been in cars with friends, though admittedly I find that out after the fact.

I have no doubt that at some point, my daughters will get their licenses. And when that happens, I know they will have a lot more maturity in them when they get behind the wheel. But it will take a lot more than that to let me allow them to drive where I live, where we have some of the worst and most aggressive driving, with a condition joked about not having gravity with daily accidents involving rollovers.

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