Newspapers and newscasts all have top stories followed by lesser significant stories. I am treating this post in similar fashion.
The top story…
My youngest turned 18 years old. When I look back at the hundreds, ummm… likely thousands of photos I have taken not just of her, but of her sister as well, I consider myself blessed to have watched and witness the growth and development from someone so tiny when she was first placed in my arms. Her wit, her personality, her intelligence, and her ability to smell through bullshit, she definitely is my daughter. Every photo I look at, I can remember where, when, and what was happening.
I encouraged her to stay a child as long as she could, and I believe she did just that, with her foot in the door to the next stage of her life, adulthood. Her childhood years behind her, she now heads in to the next phase of her life. I see only good things for her.
Another milestone reached…
It seems as of late, I have been doing a lot of talking about milestones. Back in 2008, when I had my first heart surgery, tied to my cancer survivorship of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, my doctors and I agreed, I wanted to live. I had a lot to look forward to, and I wanted to be around to see these things, these milestones. I went from a certain fatal event, to seeing each of my daughters turn 18, one having graduated, now completing her first year of college, to my younger daughter now graduating, heading off to college in the Fall, another milestone reached. And it will be a tense three years, dealing with my health issues as I await the next milestone, a college graduation. But for now, I have seen both my daughters turn 18 years of age, something that has never been a guarantee.
A chapter closed…
Also, with my final child turning 18, brings an end to my divorce case. This does not mean an end to me supporting my daughters, emotionally, or financially. But what it does mean, is that the relationship between my daughters and I, will now be, between my daughters and I.
As an adult child of divorce myself, I am still haunted by my parents’ decisions with their divorce. But it was my feelings, that drove me to protect my daughters from being exposed to the hurt I have carried with me my entire life. Most importantly, I feel it played a vital role to make sure, what happened with me, did not happen with them. Granted, I had better means to accomplish this effort, namely in the form of video messaging services, which allowed this non-custodial parent to have nearly daily visual contact with each of my daughters. Of course there was also the drive, never to leave my daughters’ lives.
Through it all, I hope that I was still able to convey to them, that there is good in relationships, and that marriage can be a good thing, but also takes work, respect, and communication. I tried to set examples for them, of how they should want to be treated, all the while, teaching them other life lessons, even if from afar.
And here we are, both my daughters, now going full speed ahead into adulthood. My role as teacher and comforter, turns to advisor and support. Of course, they will also become more familiar with my health issues, as it is likely, they will need to know everything I have gone through.
And finally…
Today was about my daughter. This will not become another “anniversary date” that I recognize. This will always be about her big milestone. The other two things just happened to occur on the same day.
This post was going to have a completely different direction when I started. But a tragic local headline served a stark and horrific reminder instead.
I wanted to talk about traffic and driving experiences. I am one of many parents who have children who have delayed getting their drivers licenses, a right of passage growing up. Where I live, the area seems to grapple with a loss of gravity, as the nearly daily accidents involve some sort of rollover of their vehicle, including from either a straightaway or pulling out in an intersection. No, when I originally came up with this filler piece, it was nowhere near as heavy as I write it today.
The picture is a screenshot from my phone, credited to local news agency, UC Breaking News – SWFL. The headline reads, “13-Year-Old Boy Killed In Crash.” Again, as I mentioned, daily car crashes here are not uncommon, and it seems that deaths or at least severe injuries occur nearly every day. There were not many details released. A car, driven by a 17-year-old girl, had three passengers, two aged 13 years of age, and a 10-year-old. She attempted to make a left turn, thinking she had the right of way, or at least enough distance, and instead was hit by another vehicle, being driven by a 30-year-old father, and his 3-year old child. This turn was attempted at night. The accident is being investigated. But one definite fact has been reported, a 13-year-old boy was killed in the accident.
Of course, social media does not disappoint, with all the know-it-alls and just plain assholes, offering their commentary and disrespectful, hurtful comments. A lot of discussion needs to be had about this accident for sure, regardless of anything that comes out of the investigation. One thing that was confirmed, all passengers and drivers in both vehicles were wearing seatbelts, or this would have been much worse.
As a teenager, all I wanted to do was drive. The day I turned 15-years-old, I could not wait to rush out and get my learner’s permit. With a birthday occurring in the wickedest time of the year weather-wise, Winter, I would learn to drive in extreme conditions not experienced by my friends born in April or July. The furthest thing from my mind, was ever getting into a car accident, a clear case of the “it will never happen to me.” And for over 35 years, I kept that record in tact. That is right, that record came to an end, five years ago.
In a scene reminiscent to the story written above, only I know my details accurately, I had a left turn arrow, and was actually following behind a police cruiser who was also turning. But a young woman driving a Challenger in the opposite direction, was approaching, clearly without a green light, through the intersection. The police officer had just completed his turn. She was coming straight at me. A last-second maneuver, a hard turn left, turned my eventual collision from head-on, to her hitting my right passenger side. I do not recall much of the accident other than the sound of the impact. I remember the officer, who had turned around, witnessing the impact in his rear view mirror, asking me if I was okay. I was a little woozy, but I did not seem injured.
I deal with flashbacks when I have to drive that intersection, but otherwise, I had begun my accident-free streak again from that point on.
Having two teenage daughters, I knew there would come a day, that each would want to get their driving licenses. And why shouldn’t they? As I said, it is a right of passage. The fact that it was something that should happen, did not take away the many memories that haunt me of others that I knew, or had heard about, involved in car accidents. Admittedly, my memories really only hold on to those killed in car accidents. As a teenager myself, there were so many.
The first occurred during my senior year, a friend was killed driving across a bridge known for being hazardous, especially during inclement weather. Another friend, killed just after graduation in a vehicle purchased by his parents as a gift. The most personal for me occurred when my first ex-wife was hit head-on, on a dark two lane road. Driving a Geo Storm, she was hit by a Ford Crown Victoria. Somehow, she survived, hurt badly, but survived.
But these personal memories definitely impacted my motivation, rather, lack of motivation to encourage my daughters to seek their drivers licenses. I used all kinds of rationale from not necessary, to expense, and even relied a bit on their own lack of impulse to pursue the process. I would tell my daughters, “you know, by getting a license, you will be asked to run errands all the time,” capitalizing on how they often did not like being interrupted or, “if you want to borrow the car you will need to do this,” blackmail, the exchange simply not worth the inconvenience.
I have driven all over the country. And as I have, I constantly changed my opinion of which places were the worst to drive, whether road conditions or drivers. Along the way, Florida held that title for me once before and has regained my opinion of worst place to drive again. As my picture above shows an intersection in China, the photo was taken by me, that was what I thought was the worst place for traffic. Having witnessed all types of transportation, from tractor trailers and buses, to cars, to motorcycles and mopeds, to bicycles and pedestrians, it was clearly a “circle of life” situation with the strongest surviving. I had even witnessed an accident with someone opening a car door into a cyclist who had been trapped in her lane of travel. It was a sickening thud.
Here where I now live, in south Florida, there is not a day that goes by, there are at least two or three accidents, one of them severe, at least every other day involving a death. If it involves a car, there is likely a rollover involved, which does not make any sense from the lack of curves in the roads, and in most cases, traffic does not move that fast because of the amount of cars tying up traffic. Then, just as in China, you have all of these other vehicles on the road, not just trucks and buses, but because this is a tourist area, there are these funky vehicles, three wheelers, electric rickshaws, vespas, all risking their lives having less physical protection around them in the event of an eventual crash. And of course, pedestrians and cyclists are constantly getting hit by vehicles. Did I mention aggressive drivers?
And so, we have a tragedy like just occurred. There needs to be discussions about the circumstances. I know we are a country of people that do not want to be told what to do, but dammit, when we do not use common sense, such as drunken driving or texting while driving, something needs to be done to protect the innocence.
My biggest fear next to my own daughters driving, has always been them, being driven by someone else. Of course, them driving the family car, we would be aware of. But going for a ride with a friend or classmate, as the expression goes, “what we don’t know…” Well, my daughters as of now, still do not have their licenses, and it is likely they will not anytime soon, because they have realized they do not need them at their current stage. They will get their licenses eventually, but right now, they do not need them. They know this. That means, their friends do the driving. I have no idea when or how often this happens. And yes, they are to offer gas money. But as I pass cars filled with teenagers today, I see my biggest nightmare, the passengers all carrying on inside (and outside) of the vehicle, while the driver focuses on the roadway.
This tragedy is just that, a tragedy. What was a fun night for a family, has now become a nightmare. There will be lots of “coulda-woulda-shoulda”, and changes made in families who knew them, and perhaps by others who heard of the accident. But in this area particularly, the county needs to do something. Aggressive and reckless driving (such as drag racing) is at an all time high. This is not the first time a child’s life has been lost on our roads here. The first thing to dealing with a problem however, is recognizing there is a problem. And while authorities may admit to a problem, they do not publicly publicize it, you know, it is called “awareness.” If you don’t talk about the problem, it does not exist, right?
Next to losing hair, the most upsetting thing about going through cancer treatments for many patients, is the ability to have children. Being able to have biological children going through the cancer experience can be affected in multiple ways. Stress alone has the potential to drive down the body’s ability to produce what it needs for its part in the procreation process. And of course, there is the toxicity of the treatments, chemotherapy or radiation, that can play the ultimate role in whether or not, biological child rearing is possible.
A separate issue of course, is when someone is already pregnant, and the decisions that need to be made as far as continuing treatments, beginning treatments, stopping treatments, or if necessary, aborting the pregnancy.
For the purposes of this post, I am referring to the male situation, post treatments.
Prior to beginning my treatments, I submitted to fertility testing. I was encouraged to do this, as I was only twenty-two years old at the time, too young to really know what I wanted in my life other than beating cancer, but this step could be critical depending on side effects from my treatments. Unfortunately, fertility testing back in the late 1980’s was fairly “plain and simple” in methods, but came back, that I had no amountable sperm worth making storage worthwhile. Spoiler alert, had I known what would happen after my treatments were completed, I would have paid whatever I had to, just to store a single sperm. Hindsight is always 20/20.
Though I did not have the internet to rely on, I did hear stories of other survivors who had gone through similar treatments, and were still able to have biological children. I was told not to give up.
But it was soon after I completed my 8th cycle of chemotherapy, a study had been made public. One of the drugs in my chemotherapy cocktail, was a main culprit of sterility, Mustargen. This drug is highly toxic, but crucial when it came to treating Hodgkin’s Lymphoma at the time. To give you an idea badass this drug is, one of its alternative uses, when synthesized in gas form, was used in World War I as a chemical warfare agent. Though it was banned, that did not prevent former dictator Sadaam Hussein from using Mustard Gas on his own people during the Iraq War. As deadly as that derivative is, it played a vital role in saving lives as well.
The study revealed that male sterility was not only affected by Mustargen, but it would depend likely on how many doses received. I received 8 cycles of the drug. The study confirmed sterility likely at that amount. The study also confirmed that fertility could be spared with six cycles or less. Just my luck, I was only supposed to have six cycles, but it was recommended to ensure my remission, that I go through two more cycles of preventative chemo. According to the study, that was probably what sealed my fate of ever having biological children.
I struggled emotionally with sterility, as I really wanted to be a Dad. I would try other scientific means to have either of my wives (I am twice divorced), get pregnant, also to no avail.
An information meeting on international adoption is what convinced me, how I was meant, and going to be, a Father. A mother had just returned back from China, with her newly adopted daughter, “Lily.” She was such a precious and sweet child, and considering the ordeal of travelling from the only world she had ever known, it was clear that she had adapted to her life in the United States, and clearly loved her mother.
International adoption was the path that I chose to pursue. There would be too many hurdles going through the domestic path especially with my health, and with lawyers wanting to make their paydays. Adoption I would soon realize would help to make my dream come true, becoming a Dad. I would also recognize, that it was not the actual birthing process that was most important to me, but rather becoming a Father. Until that moment arrived, I did not know there was as difference.
Going through China, it did not matter that I had gone through cancer more than a decade earlier. All that mattered to China, was that I was expected to live a long, natural life. Up until that point, nothing was evident to the contrary, at least not for another five years and the creation of “Paul’s Heart.”
But there I was, in a crowded room, with nine other families that I had just met within the prior forty-eight hours. All of us were checking our cameras. Some paced the small area. All of us were waiting for that moment. And then it came. We could hear it, the sound of babies. Soon, ten families would be “born” or at least grow in size. This picture is the actual director of the orphanage where my daughter came from, and she is in his arms. I have to admit, this is not my photo, but one taken by another parent. But it shows the first moment, that I laid eyes on my oldest daughter.
And then, she was placed in my arms. For the first time in my life, I was holding a child, a baby in my arms, not just any baby, my daughter. I was a Dad.
Now, if you are able to feel my emotions at this point, this, this is the moment that I had referred to earlier in my post, the moment of becoming a parent. While I cannot express what it is like to experience or witness actual childbirth, I feel pretty sure, that the emotional realization of the moment that you become a parent, either through childbirth, or adoption, the emotions are the same. The whole experience of the journey to China and back is an entirely full story on its own. But it was soon after my daughter was placed in my arms, I wanted to give my daughter a sister. I would return two years later and go through the process again.
And so, my life went from being told I had a disease that had the potential to kill me to going full circle, not only surviving Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, but, becoming a Father, twice. And though I struggle with my health today, my daughters are my driving force to keep on fighting, no matter what gets thrown at me. No matter WHAT gets thrown at me.
Neither of my daughters were around during my Hodgkin’s days, but they have heard stories, and they have met two very important people in that part of my life, that they can now relate to what it took to get here today, my oncology nurse and my counselor who I leaned on so many times when I was at my emotionally weakest moments.
Today has several important recognitions to me in my personal life. But most importantly, my life changed forever on this date, almost two decades ago, the day I became a Father, for the first time. What a great ride it has been, and what I hope will be many more years to come.
American Cancer On-Line Resources
Internet support from peers, caregivers, survivors, and professionals in several hundred types of cancers and related issues
American Cancer On-Line Resources
Internet support from peers, caregivers, survivors, and professionals in several hundred types of cancers and related issues
Paul's Heart 