Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Adoption”

03 Mar 2021

31 Years, An Odd But Very Important Milestone


March 3, 1990, I woke up that morning from the most challenging time period of my life (at the time any way).  This day, just following breakfast, I took the last of my oral chemotherapy drugs (having finished the IV part the day before).  I was done with my nine months of chemotherapy (originally scheduled for eight, but low blood counts stalled me a month) for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

That was thirty-one years ago today.  Unlike last year’s anniversary, which I definitely celebrated as a milestone (30 years), actually, thanks to Covid19, was the last thing I celebrated before mitigation efforts were enacted, I am not making a big deal about “just another year” until I hit my next recognized milestone of forty years, which to be honest, my goal is to hit fifty years.

But today is a milestone for a different reason.  It was a time I was told not to expect to see, not just from possibly dying from cancer, but issues related to the side effects from the treatments.

I was told that due to the toxicity of my treatments, it was unlikely that I would be able to have children.  Not something a newly married twenty-two year old wants to hear (or his fiance).  And back in 1990, there was not much said about options to becoming a family.

Science would rule out the possibility for me officially, as I call it, “no chocolate chips in the cookie dough” how I explain it when mixed company is around.  A decade later, science would take another crack at me, after learning how to possibly reverse said infertility issues, but came up blank again.  One final option to consider, was adoption.

Unfortunately, in the United States, we like to discriminate against people, for any reason.  If there is an opportunity to tell someone “no,” and crush a hope, there are just too many willing to do it.  And so, because of my health history, even if ten years earlier, adopting from the United States was a “no,” because I had cancer, a long time ago.

And then things changed, an opportunity coming from the last place I would have ever thought, and from the farthest reaches, China.  The international program recognized that I had a cancer history, and asked only one concern, “will you live an expected, normal life?”  It had already been twelve years at that point, and I was healthy, no sign of my cancer.

In eleven days, I will recognize the seventeenth year, since my oldest daughter was placed in my arms.  I have already recognized the fifteenth year for my younger daughter.

I am not necessarily recognizing the seventeen years as the milestone, but this month is going to recognize a bigger milestone, as my older daughter, will turn eighteen.  I will then be a parent of an adult child!

Again, this was a day I was told never to expect to happen.  And I have been blessed this way twice.

How I hate being told what I can and cannot do, or what I will or will not do.

Just as I had been advised that I may not see parenthood, in April of 2008, my daughters almost lost their father.  One of the late side effects from my treatments had crept on me, up until the point I had been diagnosed with a “widow maker” level heart blockage.  I had emergency open heart surgery to save my life within thirty-six hours.

This was the time period that would change my life forever.  It was discovered that I had damage from my radiation and chemotherapies from back in 1990.  And it was likely there would be more.  The problem was that even in 2008, there were hardly any doctors that knew about these issues and how to handle them.  And then…

I would meet the doctor that would change everything.  He was my needle in a haystack, having been found several hours away at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan.  This doctor, and all who work with him, specialize in the late developing side effects from treatments.  At the point I met him, he had already been researching this issue for over three decades.  I found the best doctor for these issues I possibly could have.

Together, he reviewed what he could of my health history, as half of it had been destroyed by fire (according to my former oncologist – fancy way of saying they incinerated my records).  He assembled a plan to research all potential issues, some based on what he confirmed with my remaining records, and then assumptions for conditions he could not confirm from medical records, but rather common protocol back in 1990.

The bad news was, these issues are progressive.  As he explained to me, he cannot reverse what is happening to me, for any of the issues, and there are a lot, that would be discovered.  But he felt, he could help manage them, and even slow down the process by recommending certain therapies and changes in lifestyle.  And then he hit me with this,

“My job, is to help you see you children grow up, graduate from high school, and college (if they chose, and I hope they did want to), possibly get married, and perhaps, give me grandchildren.”

As my children were of the ages of two and four at the time, becoming a grandfather was definitely the last thing that I thought possible.  To go that far, would mean that I would have to have survived my cancer at least another twenty or thirty years.  I just could not get my head around that concept.  But I liked his thinking.

Each milestone I would reach in my survivorship, I convinced myself that my doctor not only knew what he was talking about, but I was definitely going to get to see that time period in my life.  And it will be great when that happens.

I would face even more health hurdles along the way, defying the efforts to help me reach my goal of becoming a grandfather, waiting to see what my new title would become… Pappy?  Poppop?  Grandpop?

Two battles with septic aspiration pneumonia.  Another heart surgery.  And most recently, a surgery to one of my carotid arteries, blocked severely enough to risk a stroke.

It was one thing to be told, I would likely not become a father.  It is totally another to face opportunities that would strip me of the most important loves of my life, my daughters.

Soon, my older daughter will turn 18, and my younger daughter, not far behind.  Together with my doctors, I am going to achieve that goal.  So, it may be an odd number to recognize for an annual anniversary, but my daughter turning 18 in my 31st year as a survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is a pretty big deal.

 

 

 

Posted in Adoption, Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Politics, Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
20 Feb 2021

The Difficult Talk


One of the most difficult talks to have with your child, is that when it concerns death.  Experts have all kinds of opinions on what to say, when to say it, the do’s and don’t’s of what to say to children.

My own memories as a child and dealing with death, I do not have many memories of funerals until middle school age, one particular Christmas break.  Four family members had passed away over that one week timespan.  I recall it sending some of my “older” relatives into a tailspin, often making flippant comments about their “time.”

Over the decades of my survivorship, I have said goodbye to many fellow survivors who either faced insurmountable further challenges because of theirs health, or their bodies simply could not take anymore.

Personally, I have dealt with two major deaths in my adulthood, that to this day still leave a hole in my life.  The passing of my grandmother, and my father.

I was obviously well into my adulthood when they both passed on, so besides dealing with the emotions of the loss, I was able to process and prepare for when these events would happen.  It does not make it hurt any less.  I am fortunate that I had both in my life as long as I did, and did not have to deal with the sorrow as a child.

My daughters have been fortunate not to have seen or heard of many deaths either, that they can recall.  The closest family member to them, was their Uncle Mike, who was definitely a “fun” uncle with them, until his passing from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease).  But again, they were so young to have had the awareness of what had happened to their favorite uncle.  Today, they do still get to hear wonderful stories about him.

But as my daughters have grown, they understand that they have some friends, who have a tragic story, having lost a parent while they themselves are still a child, a loss so unimaginable as a child, to never see their mother or father again.

My daughters are very empathetic and sympathetic, so they grasp the tragedy and the sorrow.  They also know that they are fortunate to still have both of their parents.  As they are older now, however, they understand more about my health issues related to my late health issues from my cancer treatments for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma decades ago.  On many occasions, the situations could have resulted in never seeing this post.  I have seen their friends live with and occasionally struggle without having their deceased parent in their lives.  And as I face each challenge, that is the last thing I want to do to my daughters.  As I lay on any hospital bed, I make sure I let every doctor and nurse know, they need to make sure that I pull through.

Through family, my daughters fortunately have not had to deal with death.  In school, among friends, they have been fairly isolated from that as well, though there has been a classmate or two over time who has died, their personal interaction had been limited, so the emotional toll was not as great.

I received a text yesterday from my younger daughter.  Evidently word had spread, via social media, as her former guidance counselor in middle school had passed away.  Details are unknown, so I will not speculate so as not to be disrespectful.  But social media being what it is, I reached out to a few people I knew that would know if this was indeed true.  Sadly, it was.

I spent a lot of conversations with this man, seeking help for my daughter as she progressed through middle school, along with the challenges of dealing with a divorced dad who in spite of not having custody, was still involved in his daughters educations.  He spent a lot of time, guiding her in decisions on course selections and some other struggles.  In other words, this was someone who passed, who she personally interacted with in her older childhood years, likely to remember.

I told her that it was true, but we did not have any further conversations.  I take it, that there were “stories” that she had seen, but did not feel the need to question any of them.  But there was one situation that I do not think she is aware of, but I am.  And if she were, it could likely have a bigger impact on her that I do not wish upon any child.

Besides being popular among students and other staff, his passing left behind a wife, but also two children.  Again, children who would grow up without a parent, just as some of their friends have.

I try not to burden my children with how serious some of my health conditions are, or how they are corrected, because I do not want them concerned with “what if.”  For now, my children remark how “tough” I am, and have no issue boasting that I am a cancer survivor.  That is what they know.  That is what they expect.  And that is why I do all that I can for them, and to make sure that I am always available to them, and to be there with each milestone they have.  I never take any day for granted, as I am sure neither do they.

Posted in Adoption, Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
07 Feb 2021
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A Super Sunday For A Different Reason


It was mid-January.  The Seattle Seahawks, my favorite team was in the playoffs and heading to the NFC championship against the Rams.  I told a co-worker, a known football game gambler, “bet your house on the Seahawks beating the Rams and go to the Super Bowl!”  His response?  “You’re nuts!  The Rams offense is too good for the Seahawks.”  I said, “I’m telling you, the Seahawks are going to the Super Bowl.”  He asked with a smirk, “what makes you so sure?”

Murphy’s Law.  That was how I knew.  The Seahawks did beat the Rams to advance to their first Super Bowl appearance in their franchise history.  The reason for my bold claim?  I was expecting news any moment of the adoption of my second daughter, travel news.  I was preparing myself, that it was likely, I might be flying to China to adopt my daughter during the Super Bowl, missing my favorite team’s only appearance.  It was bound to happen.

And that is exactly what happened.  On Sunday, February 5th, 2006, Super Bowl Sunday, I flew from the Newark International Airport to adopt my second daughter.  It was a sixteen hour, non-stop flight.  I checked with the airlines if the game would be televised on the plane.  They said, “no.”  And so, my older daughter and I, adorned in our Seahawks gear, boarded the plane with many passengers wearing black and yellow colors, Steeler wear.  Nobody ever remembers who loses a Super Bowl, but I do, and to whom.

Landing in Hong Kong, those black and yellow passengers were celebrating.  How?  How could they have known the results already?

There was no time to mourn, what I did not see.  The biggest moment of my life was about to take place for the second time, becoming a Dad again.

Yep, I had packed all my Seahawk gear I could take.  I was a Dad again.  That was sixteen years ago.  I remember all the details of that trip.

Every year, I recognize this date, as I do with the similar date with my older daughter.  We happen to refer to it as the “gotcha day,” though some get upset about the term, implying that they were taken.  Others call it a “forever family” day or “rainbow family” day.

She is my Super Bowl baby.

The adoption process is a fascinating one, in how families are matched up.  There is no mistaking that my daughters are sisters in the familial sense.

Both have their differences as well in the personalities, their dreams, and their character.  And next month, I will recognize my older daughter’s “gotcha day” as well, a very special one.

There is no forgetting what this weekend means to me.  Yes, it is Super Bowl weekend.  And as I prepare for another visit with my daughters, I will miss the Super Bowl this time as well.  That can mean only one thing, my daughter is coming home… again.

Go Chiefs!

Posted in Adoption, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Recreation

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