Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Animals”

The Days After


The first few days following a major hurricane can be described in any number of ways, likely depending on how much the devastation has affected a person individually. Shock and sadness are a given as the loss sets in that our once daily lives in paradise are changed forever, perhaps, irreparably. It is easy to feel overwhelmed at the amount of clean up and repair in the days ahead, not even knowing where to start. And when our mind stops whirling like a cyclone from all that must be done, either common sense or survivalist tendencies kick in. It is this behavior that can either help, or make things worse.

There are two main things that those in the path of a hurricane, or the devastation of a hurricane, will need, gasoline and bottled water. The demand for both is an immediate switch that gets flipped, with the first words uttered by a weather forecaster, before suppliers have a chance to prepare. Artificial shortages are created, leading to panic of the possibility of not having what is needed. Someone with a calm demeanor can rationalize, that if we just purchase our goods at our normal rate, we should be able to get by until increased supplies arrive. Instead, supplies are empty of both within hours, and from there, supplies of both are not able to be kept up with. As the storm passes, all anyone knows is that there is no gas and no water. Lines form for hours at any gas station able to operate, and grocery stores, ration out water supplies as they become available. Then come the days after.

There are several behaviors that come forward in a time like this. First and most obvious, the curiosity of the devastation. As soon as you step outside of where you rode the storm out, you can see the immediate impact. But without power, cable, and wifi, we want to know just how bad it really got. This actually ends up being a bad decision for several reasons. One, with downed lines and trees, these dangers, especially if submerged in water, can be deadly. Second, “looky-loos” as they are called, often get in the way of rescue efforts, in worst cases, needing being rescued themselves. And of course, there is the unnecessary waste of gas just “riding around.”

Which of course, leads to the next issue, finding gas, or even an operating gas station. Relying on the “gas buddy” app could be misleading with people putting in false information. But the first thing you had to do was to find if a station was working, which if you saw a nearby traffic signal working, was an encouraging sign. Likewise, there would be a lengthy line of cars, many there for seven to ten hours, having hopes of being lucky to buy gas. It is inevitable that throughout this process, there would be at least one jackass somewhere, cutting into the line, causing authorities to respond as tempers flare.

Grocery stores, would open as soon as they could, if able to, usually with the help of a generator. But as good as sign as this was, anything in the store that was refrigerated would be tossed and unsellable. You would be able to buy bottled water as long as supplies lasted. I can tell you that as of today, four days after Ian, all shelves locally are still completely empty of fruit, vegetable, and dairy products. But as supplies come in, they will be gobbled up and hoarded by those afraid it may be too long before they get a chance to buy more. So this supply will remain near zero.

Traffic is a major safety concern, as many intersections no longer having operating traffic signals, with a six lane road intersection. It is a “courtesy” situation, everyone is expected to stop at each light that is not working. Six lanes of north and south traffic intersecting with six lanes of east and west traffic, all trusting each other to be courteous and take turns, until someone just says “fuck it” and ignores the unwritten respect. Then it becomes a free-for-all and then humans are placed in the intersection to direct traffic. This is another reason authorities do not want unnecessary vehicles on the road. But you know society, “I have a right to be on the road.”

There are several local businesses who may have been able to survive with little damage, enough to still be able to be open. Many will work to serve food to first responders and emergency workers. Others will try to prepare foods for locals, unable to cook or even have a place to stay. Unfortunately, there will be those who look at the open sanctuaries as an opportunity for “life as usual – ‘I’m out for a nice dinner” and end up being demeaning and disrespectful because the restaurant may not be able to offer a full meal, service may be slow, because workers still have their own mess to deal with damage wise back at home.

Finally, this is a heavy tourist area. And once the fall rolls around, along with hurricanes, so come all the vacationers, snowbirds, and seasonal homeowners. Things are bad enough for us as locals with the devastation and shortages, but curious or entitled travelers will soon arrive, compounding our problem. On social media pages, you can already see locals emploring everyone to stay away, at least for the the time being. If you need to come down, to check out property, and it must be done personally, fine. Plus, with groceries already at a minimum, gas in short supply, we do not need the thousands and thousands of visitors right at this moment compounding our needs. But the reality is most will come down to pick up their seasonal traditions of eating at coastline restaurants, boating excursions, and many more activities that make this such a great place to live.

But as I experienced with Irma five years ago, and the great everglade brush fire two years later, those here for recreation are not shy expressing their displeasure with having their fun times interrupted by inconvenience, expecting everything to be normal before they arrive. But the truth is, it will be a long time before anything is considered normal. And if that is how they want to spend this season, and they know this upfront, then fine. They have no right to complain how slow recovery is going, or how short supply things are, especially if they are adding to the problem.

Like I said, you can either stay out of the way, help, or add to the dilemma. It does not take long to see who is who.

There Is Life After Hodgkin’s Lymphoma


As Lymphoma Awareness month rolls on, I want to write a lighter piece about Lymphoma, about life after Lymphoma. While I wrote last, that we are never really over “cancer” even when we hear the word “remission,” there is still a life to be lived.

One of my favorite places to visit both as a child and as an adult especially with my daughters, was a place called “Boulder Field” located in Pennsylvania. I spent hours upon hours climbing all over the rocks, never taking the same path, or hiking the same combination of boulders. Each trip was different. It is kind of symbolic for all the different things that would be ahead of me in my life after Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The ironic thing, prior to my cancer, I do not believe that I was doing much of anything with my life worthy of fulfillment or purpose. I had been content with living a “party” lifestyle that my first wife and I were enjoying. No commitment. No plan. Just show up. That was our “normal.”

But there is a phenomenon known as a “new normal” that cancer survivors experience. Resistance is futile, because it is just something that happens. It would have been easy to pick up right where I left off before the rude interruption from cancer. But with all of the toxicity and damage I had gone through with my treatments, I had to be more careful. A new “normal.” I had follow appointments and testing to undertake as part of this new “normal.” For the first time in my life, at the age of 24, I began to think of other things I wanted to do with my life. And part of that was not to let cancer dictate my new “normal.” This new “normal” was going to be what I made it to be.

A couple of years after my treatments ended, I led our church’s youth group. Actually, this was the first of two that I had been in charge of over ten years. I had done something that other predecessors had not done, and that was open the group to all ages of children, not just the teenagers. Sure, their activities were grouped just as the different levels of school; pre-school and elementary, middle school, and high school. But at least once a year, the entire program came together on a Sunday dedicated to the youth of the church, and all participated and led that Sunday’s services, no adults. The program had all kinds of activities for outreach, and the older kids, the teenagers got to experience road trips such as ski trips and white water rafting. It was an honor to watch these kids grow. In fact, over twenty years later, I am still in contact with several of them, now parents themselves.

I would get an employment opportunity that would change my life forever, working for a major pharmaceutical company in medical research. After years of trying to improve my otherwise mediocre employment situation, and in spite of having no college degree in medical research, after just one interview, I was hired. The job not only provided a much better salary, but something up until that point, since my cancer diagnosis unobtainable, health and life insurance, without being discriminated against. I would actually handle one of the drugs used in my chemotherapy cocktail. But the biggest reward was to be a part of some very important discoveries against several major diseases.

I began to travel. One wish I had was to see my favorite football team, the Seattle Seahawks, play their arch rivals, the Raiders. That trip out west, would change the way I travel forever. For me, the trip became about opportunities. On this trip, I would actually get to meet two fellow Hodgkin’s survivors in person who up until that point, I had only known through emails. Both were a bit younger than me, and diagnosed a few years after my treatments had ended. But I got to see several places I had never seen before, Seattle, Anaheim, Bakersfield, and Lake Tahoe before returning home. From that point on, nearly any trip I made after that, would almost always involve an opportunity to meet other survivors.

But one of the biggest events, which actually happened twice, happened because of the one long term and permanent effect from my treatments, the inability to have biological children. On two separate trips across the world to China, twice I became a Dad. Every day with my daughters has been a blessing, and many times a new experience, likely an experience that never would have crossed my mind such as swimming with dolphins and stingrays, exploring caves, and so much more. Nothing could be cherished more, than being their Dad, each and every blessed day. Both now in their late teens, they are soon ready to go out into the world, and make their own memories, and for that, I am truly blessed as that spectator.

I will only mention this part briefly, well, because it speaks for itself. For over a decade, I have been writing about my experiences as a cancer survivor, whether it be on “Paul’s Heart,” published in various medical newsletters, anthologies, and am currently working on four books of my own. This has led to opportunities to speak in public at various functions as a living, breathing long time survivor of cancer. A frustrating thing for me really, that more of a big deal is not made about us. But perhaps the coolest experience of my writing career, was to have something I wrote performed live:

An unexpected direction in my life occurred back in 2009, when I decided to enter politics, at our local school board level. I was unhappy with the way the current school board had been behaving and many of their decisions, which I felt would have an impact on my daughters educations. And so, I enjoyed the experience of two campaign runs. It was a wonderful and exhausting experience, there were so many memories made. Several long term friendships came from my running for school board, friendships from running mates. I wanted to, and felt that it happened, to make a difference for my daughters educations, which of course would benefit other’s children as well.

The Covid19 pandemic gave me an opportunity to return to something I enjoyed doing, playing guitar and piano again. I won’t ever do it publicly, but I am having a lot of fun again, expanding my musical horizons. Combined with my singing, I even wrote my first song and recorded it, a very cool experience.

No, my life did not turn out at all the way that I thought it would. But then again, I never thought I would get cancer either. But as many put it, “I won’t let cancer define who I am.” I am far from finished writing my story. And to do that, I have to keep living my life after Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and in spite of what it has left for me, just as my fellow long term survivors.

Drip, Drip, Drip


It keeps happening, and I cannot explain why. I know when it started, and quite possibly the event that triggered it. I just cannot explain why it has not stopped. Surely enough time has passed. Evidently not.

Yesterday I took my daughter to the airport, following a brief visit with me. She was returning home, to prepare for her upcoming freshman year of college. The car ride was unremarkable, the expected “pep talk” about how “I am just a phone call away,” and a variety of sage-like advice, occasionally followed by the anticipated eye-rolls and “I know Dad”. I put a lot of pressure on myself, to make sure that as teenager at the beginning of her adult years, that she was prepared for all the financial decisions, the ability to be wary around snakes and predators looking for suckers, all the while remaining focused on her purpose for college, all the while enjoying the many new experiences she will have. I needed to make sure all of my bases were covered.

As we walked into the airport, both of us pulled up our masks (we still wear them, our choice), and proceeded to the TSA area as she did not have to check any bags since this was a short trip. My daughter took one last mental check-list to make sure that she had everything, and pulled out her identification. And then came our hug good-bye.

We have done this many times over the years following her visits to me. Even during times of custody conflict, unsure when the next visit might be, or, depending on how bad the Covid19 pandemic would get, unsure if and when the next visit could take place, I always kept my composure. This farewell was different though.

Let me reflect back before I get to that difference. There had been a lengthy time difference due to a custody issue that I will not get into, but it prevented me, legally from seeing my daughters, for well over two years. In that time, both of my daughters had growth spurts, and from the last time that I had seen them, when they basically came up to my chest in height, now, were as tall as me. I talked to them every day on Facetime, but I had no concept of how they had grown, until they were standing right in front me. It was shocking to me, the physical evidence of “time” that I had missed seeing them in person. I could not help but break down.

So back to yesterday, it happened again as I said good-bye to my oldest daughter. She let go of her carry-on luggage, and we hugged. And then I heard her say, “I love you Dad.” I have never kept track of who says it first, I would say it was fairly even regardless, but this particular moment, right after she said it, I am sure she felt my grip get a little tighter.

I had been preparing for this moment for a while now, and honestly, have a bit of an advantage over her mother as far as “separation” goes, and the time that my daughter and mother will now be separated, just as my daughter and I have these last years. And even though I felt I was ready, as my hug got tighter, I tried to say back to my daughter, “I love you too.” Four simple words, should have taken less than two seconds to get out. Instead, the effort took more than five seconds for each word, because all of a sudden, I was choking back tears.

This was not the emotions I felt concluding each custody visit. Quite the contrary, I knew at that moment, I was sending my daughter on her continued path of greatness as an influencer (out of respect for her I am not stating her interest, but her studies and her career will have an impact on people, I can at least blab that). The next time that I will see her, hopefully, will be at Christmas break, if not sooner. But she will have completed her first semester, the toughest semester to get through in college because of all the personal adjustments she, like all kids going to college, will face.

I never used to be this sappy or mushy. I had always been known to keep a cool head, focused on the task at hand, in control, never let anyone see my reactions. The “when” and “what event” I was referring to, emergency open heart surgery in 2008 to save my life was when my emotional floodgates were opened. While it is common and normal to experience depression and anxiety (I did experience both in the few years after), I feel that my “drip drip drip” of weepiness is something different. I just have yet to figure it out. I am not saying it is a bad thing, albeit a bit embarrassing, and once again for my daughter.

But as my daughter walked through the TSA line, she had no doubt, that I love her, even if I had a hard time getting it out.

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