Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Animals”

The Most Painful Second Guess


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For those of us, who have ever been blessed to have another living being, non-human that is, rely on us, trust us, be loyal to us, and just simply be given unconditional love in return, will undoubtedly at some point, be faced with the heartbreaking decision of having to say goodbye.

It is really an odd thing, that as a human, we possess enough compassion to deal with our fur friends with more compassion than for those who are able to speak of their pains and sufferings.  As people, many of us have seen people suffer with cancer, ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease), AIDS, and many other serious maladies.  But there is something that makes us have more compassion, with someone who cannot voice what they are feeling or enduring, under duress.

There will be two times when this compassion can be tested.  One is when a vet informs you of a terminal situation, whether by accident or disease, and the other, if lucky, simply old age.  It would be easier on all of us, if our fur friends would just cross over to the Rainbow Bridge without us having to make the painful decision of euthanasia.

First, understand, no vet, and I mean no vet, ever wants to be in a position of putting a family pet down.  When in that position, the vet knows it is in the best interest of the animal.  But ultimately, the decision still lies with the owner.  How do you know when it is time to release your furry loved one from its sufferings?  When does it become selfish to hang on for just one more day?

My belief, you just know.  You just know when the time is right.  I have known many people who have gone to extraordinary measures, five figure expenses just to continue the life of their fur family member, because that is what they believed needed to be done.  And in those cases, to their owners, they knew the time was not right.

In recent years, I have found myself in the position of having to make the decision to end my pets’ suffering twice.  I had a cat, that of all things had Lymphoma.  I had lymphoma and beat it, and we are a society that finds cures from animals.  Unfortunately, for Flash, our gray and white cat, he could not be cured.  And the lymphoma was creating issues with his stomach and being able to eat.  And there was no guarantee that by treating him for the lymphoma, that would resolve the lack of hunger issue.  Flash had already been exhibiting “avoidance” behavior, a common behavior of sickly animals, that hide from everyone else, just to go in peace.  And it took a long time, to find him just to get him to the vet to look at him.

But even more difficult, was when I had to make the decision to put my Golden Retriever Pollo down.  Approaching 15 years of age, and not having any issues with hip dysplasia, cancer, or cardiac, I had honestly hoped that with Pollo, when the time came, it would just be peaceful in his sleep.  I have written about his last few years, and love of mushrooms, that led to issues for him physically in his later years.

Truth be told, I made “the appointment” for him, at least twice, and both times something made me change my mind.  And honestly, it gave me more time with Pollo, selfish as it was.  But I had one guideline that I was using.  Pollo had only one way to communicate with humans, and that was his smile and his tail.  And my rules was simple, since Pollo’s tail wagged all of the time, yes, even in his sleep, if the time would come, that his tail no longer wagged, that would be his way of telling me it was time to let him go.

That particular November morning, I went to let Pollo outside for his morning “business.”  But, just as had happened occasionally, he needed help to stand up this morning.  Once I had him standing, he would not move.  I knew at this point, Pollo had lost much of his vision, and was fairly certain, most of his hearing too, but his tail never stopped wagging.

I could not get Pollo to move forward toward the patio door.  And then he relieved himself on the den floor.  I reluctantly looked, and his tail was no longer wagging.  Pollo seemed frozen where he stood, and assuming he could not see or hear, and that may have been his hesitation, I put my hand in front of him, as if to calm him if he could at least smell my scent.  But he could not.  Pollo was now in a world that he could not see, smell, or hear.  It was time.

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Although at the time, it was the hardest thing in the world to let Pollo go, I knew it was the right thing to do.  The pain of his absence at home, would occasionally cause me to wonder, had I done the right thing?  Maybe another session of Reiki could have helped like the other two times did.  And it is normal to want to wonder, could we have done more to have more quality time with each other.

It is a year and a half later, and I still miss him.  But in my rational mind, I knew then, and know now, he was suffering.  And as his best friend, I told him I would see him at the Rainbow Bridge some day, and said goodbye.

An Astounding And Humbling Number


I am sitting here completely humbled.

20,000 views.  WOW!!!

Though my current efforts and goals with “Paul’s Heart” have changed over the last two years, the purpose behind it has not.

Writing is therapeutic.  Not just for the patient putting his feelings and concerns onto paper, but also for those who read what they cannot put into words themselves.  The writing does not have to be anything published.  It can be a simple comment  on a post-it note.  It is a simple concept, being able to bring out and internal feeling releases at least some burden and stress.  And that is therapeutic.  Getting to release any kind of negative energy, when you have nowhere else to turn, writing allows that.

I have always enjoyed writing.  And over the last several years, I have been given many opportunities to have many of my writings published.  And with my published works, not only do I provide therapy for myself with the many trials and tribulations that I deal with, my posts and stories provide therapy to those reading them.  Because I write from experience, good or bad, it is my hope that readers can relate to my stories.  And by relating to my stories, hopefully the reader can come away with a feeling, that perhaps the struggles that they are dealing with, are not only normal, that they are not alone, and that the struggles can be overcome.  And that is therapeutic.

I wish “Paul’s Heart” could be an endless supply of Euphoria type stories.  But that is not realistic.  We do have to deal with some bad things in our lives.  And it is a difficult balance that I try to maintain when I write these posts.  I view the results with the statistics on each story I write about.

There is so much more to come on “Paul’s Heart.”  But for now, I want to humbly thank each and every one of your for your support and your encouragement.

The Beauty Of Surviving Cancer


Yesterday afternoon, I gave a cancer survivor speech I titled “The Beauty Of Surviving Cancer” for a special Garden Party filled with cancer survivors.  The speech is actually a continuation of the speech that I gave a few weeks ago.  You can find that transcript on March 10 in the archives under the title “Defeating Cancer As A Team.”

Below is the transcript of my speech “The Beauty Of Surviving Cancer.”

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“I could not think of a better place to be celebrating the beauty of cancer survivorship than here, at this event at Moorings Park. That’s right, I said, the beauty of cancer survivorship.

From the moment we hear the words, “you have cancer,” it is all we can think about. “I want to survive.” And we trust everyone involved with our care, to make sure that it happens. A beautiful sentence, “I want to survive.” The ultimate fist-shaking of defiance at something so ugly.

The time from diagnosis to treatment, to hearing the beautiful words, “you are in remission,” seem to take forever. But nothing is more beautiful than remission being forever.

I am still young to be thinking about forever. But I have been in remission of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma for over 25 years. And that, is a beautiful thing.

I got the phone call while sitting at my desk at work. It was kind of ironic because although I had hoped to share the news that I was anticipating with my family, it was my employer who first heard that I was diagnosed with cancer, and he would be the first to find out, that I was in remission. I recognized the telephone number in the caller ID as my oncologist. And although I was expecting the call, and was quite excited to get great news, I actually froze at first, thinking about the what-ifs. And then I answered the phone, and I heard, “you are in remission Paul.” Beautiful. Again I found myself in a frozen state with my left arm whose hand was holding phone, slowly falling from my ear. I did it. I should be doing backflips. This was great news. And then the wave of emotions crashed over me. I did do it. I beat cancer. It took everything I had, but I did it!

Just then, right on cue, my boss came out of his office, not that he was eavesdropping, but seeing the reaction on my face, he knew right then and there, the phone call that I got, and that it was good news. And I thanked him for being there from the beginning to the end of this process.

Since then, I have enjoyed nothing less than the beauty of surviving cancer.

I have the beauty of celebrating a new birthday every year. While my birth certificate states my birthday as being December 19, 196… in reality, I recognize my new birthday as March 3, 1990 which meant that I just turned 25 years old.

I want to tell you about the beauty of progress in the world of cancer. Yes, we still have a long way to go, but in just 25 years, which nearly everyone present has been alive in their lifetime, diagnostics, treatments, follow up care, and survival rates have improved. Think about all the people before us who witnessed the discovery of the lightbulb, the toaster, and a cure for polio, in our lifetime, you have been witness to progress in the battle against cancer. In just 25 years, most of the methods used to diagnose my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma are no longer used. In just 25 years, the toxic and horrific treatments I was subjected are no longer used. And twenty five years later, I am still here to see even newer progress being made. And that is beautiful.

The beauty of cancer survivorship is getting to experience so many things that at one time, cancer patients would have never had the opportunity to experience.

There has been the beauty of parenthood. I was told that I could never become a parent because the chemotherapy treatments that I had, left me unable to have biological children. But just as all good things come to those who wait, I became a father not once, but twice, to two beautiful little girls, that only half-way through my survivorship, I was able to adopt my daughters and become the father I had always wanted to be.

I had a wonderful fur friend for nearly fifteen years of my survivorship, a golden retriever named Pollo, or as many knew him, as the “happy Golden” because of a smile that never left his face, and his tail that would just not stop wagging.

I made it a point that I was finally going to make sure that life counted. If I wanted something, or wanted to do something, or go somewhere, I was going to make it happen. It may not have been easy, but neither was fighting cancer. But I did that. I have gotten travel to beautiful places, and I currently live in a place nicknamed “Paradise”, Naples.

Another beauty of survivorship is meeting other survivors. And over my last 25 years, I have met hundreds and hundreds of other survivors. But as the Relay Survivor Committee has stated, a cancer patient is a survivor from the moment they are diagnosed. And as I wrote this speech, I thought about that concept. Because to be a survivor of anything, I feel “surviving” implies that you took on a fight. And while the circumstances may be different from what we refer to as a “surviving” event such as a natural disaster or travel accident, surviving a deadly disease is not any different. From the moment it occurs, we want to survive.

I have two examples that have made me a believer in the committee’s statement. The first, is a young man, who proclaimed to his mother and I, even before his treatments were finished, “I am going to be a cancer survivor”. Second, when told of his terminal prognosis, the doctors asked my father if there was anything that they could do for him, my father responded, “I just want to be a survivor like my son”. He still wanted to fight. Though their circumstances did not end as we would typically describe being a survivor, Michael, and Dad, both of you were survivors clearly not only in my eyes, but in others as well.

Then finally, there is the beauty of being a part of the state of Florida’s largest Relay For Life. Over twenty-five years, I have participated in many Relays, as well as spoken at many more. And I must admit, there is both beauty and excitement to be a part of something so special. And over twenty-five years to see how far we have come, and to hear encouraging news of just how close we have come to finding even more cures for cancer, that, is the beauty of cancer survivorship.

I will wrap up with a quote that I use frequently through various support web sites that I am involved with:

“As I drive on the road of remission, I will keep looking in my rear view mirror to make sure that you are still following me. And if for some reason, you are not on that road yet, hurry up and get on that highway. It’s a great ride once you hit the road.”

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