Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

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Catharsis


I write for many reasons. It helps me to keep things organized in my life. Things that I write about help me to remember. I hope that many of the things that I share, inspire, provide hope, cause laughter, or provide comfort and familiarity. Writing is also cathartic.

The release that I get, from putting my thoughts down in a blog, in a diary, or as I have just finally completed, a book, is not only therapeutic, but more times than not, provided me relief when I needed it most. As I tell many, if you do not have a therapist, writing down your thoughts is just as good because it gives you the chance to process your thoughts again.

I am in a strange place right now in my mind, several things at the forefront, coming up in the next week or so. My younger daughter is about to start her freshman year of college, joining her sister now in her sophomore year, a time I never thought I would live to see. I am approaching bi-annual medical follow-ups for all of my health issues, with always the “what if’s” in the back of my mind. And having finished writing my first book, called “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor,” as I edit the book, I am coming to a bigger realization, and more than just catharsis.

A therapist I saw back in the days that I was treated for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma often accused me of not recognizing the gravity or seriousness of what I was going through. I knew she was right, but I would still try to convince her that I was taking it seriously. But the truth was, for me to recognize how serious everything was, I would have to recognize and accept my mortality, which was in jeopardy. I felt my mind was in the right way of thinking, that I would get through my cancer. There was also the fact, that I knew that others had it way worse than I did. Some might not even survive. I was not planning on that fate. So no, I would not let myself take this episode in my life so seriously, because I expected to be fine.

Even as I wrote the book, chapter by chapter, as I recalled every detail, I still do not feel I saw how serious everything was that I went through. Sure, I knew all the dangers and crisis that I went through, and just as my therapist reminded me daily back then, it still did not hit me.

Now, with the book complete, I have read the whole thing in its entirety, although for the first time as an opportunity to do a final edit, several times. It has taken four decades, and being able to read through the entire manuscript, all the time periods and details, I can acknowledge just how difficult and dangerous many of the periods of my life really were.

For someone to pass by me on the street, without knowing me, would have no idea of the journey that I had taken over the last thirty-five years, the toxicity that I was exposed to with my treatments, and the health emergencies that I survived. But when you get the chance to read my book, soon I am hoping, I really did go through everything in the book. I may have made it look easy, I may have made myself “think” it was easy, but for the first time, I will say, it was far from easy.

My fight against cancer was hard, and not just my hard head fighting against me and the efforts to treat me. The unknown of what survivorship would bring, from discrimination to one health crisis after another, late developing side effects from my treatments, nearly as fatal as my fight against cancer, starting each day with uncertainty. The pressures of life and stress along with expectations and interference of others served as unnecessary and unwanted distractions. The fear of being the source of loss for the most important people in my life, knowing that my days of uncertainty and survivorship are not guaranteed.

I have no regrets about the decisions I made back in 1988 nor that I make today. Everything I do or write, are with the intentions of seeing another tomorrow, and are part of that plan.

I will continue to write here on “Paul’s Heart,” as I still have nearly 300 stories that I began to write and put to the side, and have many more to go. I will take a little time and then begin my second book. I am actually planning three more.

This is how I deal. Yes, some close to me cringe how open I am with my posts. But as I will never discover anything earth shattering or come up with a cure for something, if my words can make a difference to at least one, then this was all worth it.

The “Do Over”


The question is, “if you had the chance to go back in time, and re-live something over again, what would you want to re-live and would you do it?”

First, I need to offer a disclaimer and “nerd” alert. I am a huge fan of the television show “Quantum Leap” and the movie “Back To The Future.” So, to understand the above question, I would have to understand the ramifications and risks associated with going back in time. Even the slightest change in the past would have a major impact on the future.

For instance, though there is no known cause of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, if I were to relive any time period just before my diagnosis, and somehow end up not being diagnosed with cancer, on one hand that would be a great thing. But tragically, that would erase all that I have accomplished over the years, and take away the two most important people away from me, my daughters.

There are definitely things that I would not want to relive again, all losses of loved ones.

As my path through Fatherhood was not as I had originally planned, I did the best that I could and accomplished what I needed to. I have plenty of photos to look back on to relive all of those moments.

There is one moment in my life, that I do wish I could live over again, but this would come at a risk of changing history. Because there would be a slight/major change in the moment.

One of many stories I had written over the years was being performed (read) live, by professional actors. It was an achievement I never thought possible. The story was about the passing of my Father. But being recently separated at the time, I wanted my daughters to attend this moment with me, but was denied by their mother. I had promised that everything would be done to make sure they were prepared for, and able to attend school the next morning. I was still refused.

It was one of the most powerful and surreal experiences in my life that I do not know if I will ever get the chance to experience anything like that again. I do not know if getting to go back, have my daughters sit by my side for the performance, meet the actors afterwards, and listen to the kind words of audience members would change any direction of the future. But if I had one moment, to relive over again, this would be it.

Birth Of An Advocate


If you have ever been in a doctor’s office, not feeling well, there is a good chance that you have heard this question posed to you… “so when did you first notice…?” Three years ago, I can pinpoint to the day, that a condition that I was aware of with my cancer survivorship, finally needed to be addressed. Anyone with heart issues, regardless if cancer was a predecessor, knows at times, breathing can be difficult. If you have a valve issue, as I did, once it hits a severe point, you practically collapse or actually do if not treated quickly. That is exactly what happened to me, in August of 2022, my aortic valve let me know, it was finally time to get dealt with as I was collapsing while crossing a street.

I am not sure what prompted the need for retrospect, but a recollection and telling of a story, of my early days as a survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, answered a question I had never really thought about, I just accepted it as a fact of who I was. The day I became an advocate.

I had just completed my treatments for Hodgkin’s, both chemotherapy and radiation, had gotten married, and while happy with my current employment, I felt I wanted more. My stepfather, an insurance agent for a nation wide insurance company (I am not actually saying the name), and had offered me an opportunity to come work for them. I was fairly personable, and working a commission paying job, I felt would really be a huge opportunity for me. So I hit the books, to study and test for my license which I excelled at, aced my interview, and passed my physical, which was not bad for someone who had just gone through a two year cancer battle. Then a phone call came.

“Hi, it’s Jim (he was the district manager). Listen, everything went well for you, however, the company would prefer that you were in remission longer from your cancer. I’m sorry. Maybe a few years down the road you can try again.” That is exactly the conversation that was had. I will never forget the words. I was being discriminated against, because I had cancer. It did not matter that I was in remission, which was the hardest thing I had ever gone through in my life.

I was fuming. My stepfather asked how everything went, he of course was disappointed, but he was not going to argue on my behalf, he needed his job. I reached out to my counselor at the hospital, met with him, and just released a wave of emotions. Was this how my life was going to be after cancer? Everyone and everything was going to be held against me, because I had cancer? What the fuck did I fight so hard for, if everything was going to be against me? His name was John, and he encouraged me, that I could try to file a complaint with the Department of Labor in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. It was a long shot. I had no money to hire a lawyer, but John assured me, he was willing to stand by my side and travel with me.

In Harrisburg, there was John and I, a representative from the DOL, and of course the district manager and legal representation from the insurance company. There was no money involved as I was not seeking any. This was about principal. I did not want the company to get away with what they had done. There was a fatal flaw in my argument. The state’s rep explained, “their manager claims that they never withdrew their offer of employment, that you withdrew your application.” I denied this, and it was clear the DOL believed me. But still, without any proof, it was my word against his. I had lost. Or so I thought. The agent from the DOL began…

“It is our duty to inform you, that while there is a stalemate involving the conflict between Mr. Edelman and your company as to what happened, we need to let you know, that as of July 26th of this year (1990), any action of discrimination based on health is illegal as stated in the Americans With Disabilities Act. What this means, is you can no longer ask a perspective employee about their health, or require a physical, until you have deemed them of the status, intent to hire upon passing said physical.” And with that, the agent placed a copy of the ADA in front of the lawyer and continued, “you will need to make the correction in your hiring process nation wide as this is now law.” While the ADA requirement was brand new, it was not well known. And this company was to become one of the first, faced with immediate corrective action to be taken. I may have lost my battle, but I won the war.

That was my moment, when I knew, that I had discovered a purpose, being an advocate. It is never about money for me, NEVER! And whether it is helping a cancer survivor navigate health care, assist with international adoption, heart disease support, protecting public education, or providing support to parents struggling with divorce and custody, I will be there. This is who I am. I am just one person, so I do this on a much smaller scale. But for me to be able to help just one, like one person, John, helped me, that is what I want to do, and I do not care who you are.

Take a story that came across my feed yesterday. It was a Dad, from what I could read through the emotions, facing the loss of his rights as a father, but also at the risk of losing any rights of custody. There was a problem. I was too distracted by the way that he wrote his post. Clearly he was upset, but his thinking was so outraged and filled with irrational thoughts that if he was to appear in front of a judge anytime soon, he would definitely lose everything.

While the terms he was using in his “claim” were purely political, and on the verge of conspiratorial, I wanted him to realize, that he needed to get back to the basics of what was important in all this, his child. He could not afford to dwell on how he felt lawyers and judges might rule based on political biases and beliefs. If he came off as anything less than a concerned parent, who had rights to a natural relationship with his child, and instead seen as a danger, he would lose it all.

It took a few back and forths, but I finally got him to stop using certain political terminology, and instead, listen to how to present what would not only be in the best interest of the child, but in his case, allow him the efforts he felt he needed to have in place to “protect” his child.

I advised him, he needed to modify his custody order to achieve what he wanted to do. This was not going to matter if his ex was going to try and get full custody and take his rights away. As long as he remained calm and focused on what was important, the child, a judge should never take that away from him. So, he needed to put that aside. Instead, he needed to make sure, in his order, that he had 50-50 “legal” custody, which is different than physical custody. Legal custody gives both parents the right to make decisions, equally, that both should have a say in anything needed to be taken care of with the child. The most important part in his situation. He needed to make sure that it was clearly written, that nothing medical could be administered or performed, without both parents approval and in the case of an emergency, only if ALL efforts were exhausted in trying to reach the other parent had failed, would that allow anything to proceed.

I know first hand, that trying to argue emotionally and fired up in front of a judicial official at any level, is guaranteed to fail. And that is exactly where he was heading otherwise. It did not matter if I agreed with his position, the child, and the intentions of his ex. It did not matter if I agreed or disagreed with his politics, religion, or morals. This is what an advocate does.

I have no idea how his situation will turn out, as he has stopped communicating. I honestly doubt, given his “temperature,” that he would take my advice. All I know, is I did all I could, provide a voice of reason, from someone who had been there, done that.

In my 35 years of survivorship, this is who I am, whether it was health related, school related, adoption related, or custody related, even employer related (I was a good union shop steward too), I was always about support, protection, and doing what was right. Money is never an issue. Just do the right thing, and you will never have to deal with me.

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