Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Recreation”

I’m Going To Touch The Cup


There is a tradition in sports, not touching the championship trophy until the end of the championship round is complete. Many believe you jinx the team by even taking a picture of yourself (or worse one of the actual players taking a photo with the trophy), before the first game of the series has begun. Victorious players will do anything they want with the trophy from drinking champagne from it, to placing their infant child inside, to travelling the world, after they have won. But no photos before. Well, I am about to do something equivalent, but as I do, I am going to rush over to the nearest piece of wood, and give it a good ol’ knock.

I have managed to live in a world with Covid, without getting Covid. Excuse me while I quickly run to knock on wood. I am one of less than a handful of people I personally know who have still not contracted it, sadly more than three times the people I personally know who died from it, including my younger sibling.

Unlike some who actually go as far as to brag about how many times, or strains that they have been infected by, I do not consider my statement bragging at all. It made me feel very uncomfortable to hear so many exercise bravado, no fear of Covid, a disease that killed millions. I have never heard one cancer patient ever take that kind of stance.

I want to be clear. I am in no way ridiculing or mocking anyone who contracted Covid whether at the beginning of the pandemic, or even recently, whether it was not of their own doing (someone selfishly exposing them to it), or what was called “Covid fatigue,” (“I need to do this one thing.”), or first responders and medical personnel who had no choice, because of the careers they chose to get into.

But I will continue to express my frustrations with those who chose to argue conspiracy over common sense, political grievance over professional medical advice, fake patriotism over empathy, denial over acceptance and action.

Oddly enough, the group of people I personally knew, at the highest level of risk, fellow long term cancer survivors, actually fared very well, long before there were vaccines and treatments, and through supply shortages. As survivors of cancer, many of us are more in tuned with the risks we face, and react when something does not feel right. Knowing how dangerous this situation was to us, caused us to act more swiftly. As I said however, too many could not outrun Covid, either because it was brought to them, or for just one moment, a sense of false security or not, guard was let down. To be honest, I really do not believe I will be able to outrun Covid forever, anymore than I can outrun a common cold or the flu, something that I typically do not have to face, unless it is brought to me.

But as this crisis devastated the world, like spilling grape juice on a white carpet, I was not interested in “why” it happened or blame who spilled it. It just needed to be dealt with quickly, before the stain got too great. The problem was too many people were more interested in blame or accusations, instead of listening to voices of reason. And as one who has avoided Covid thus far (there I go to knock on some more wood), and to be clear, I am speaking only in my case, not for anyone else who has avoided Covid yet, or had minimal number of infections, only in my case, I am saying, the ones I relied on for the advice to protect myself, were the ones who got me to this point.

I mentioned risks. Was I in fear? Absolutely. I was a 33 year cancer survivor with a compromised immune system, and major cardiac and pulmonary issues. But did I live my life in fear these last four years? No. Did I lose anything by following the recommendations? No. With all the health issues against me, was I able to reach long term goals that I was hoping to live to see? Yes.

Did I avoid risks? No, I managed them. I weighed them. I decided which risks were worth taking, and which ones I would tempt fate. My doctors knew/know, a Covid infection would kill me (at least prior to vaccines and treatment availabilities). Yet, on three separate occasions, I underwent three major operations, two for my heart, and one for my carotid artery, in the belly of a beast (in a hospital that is), engulfed and drowning in Covid infections, along with the multiple follow up appointments. But the preventative guidelines in place, protected me, and they worked.

Some may have been cheering for me to not have visits with my daughters during Covid, whether I travelled to them, or they came to me. Believe it or not, Covid gave me opportunities to actually see them more often than I otherwise would have. And at no time, did I or my daughters contract Covid. All because we followed the recommendations.

I went to the grocery store and pharmacy. I supported local eateries, admittedly doing take out. I have to admit, I have not had interest in dining in, not because of current Covid conditions and infection rates, but rather learning how deficient many places were with cleaning (as we saw busing and table cleaning increase during the early stages of Covid, now tables and cleaning returning back to the regular unsavory conditions, under the guise of insufficient staffing… that is what really skeeves me out more than the Covid risk at this point).

I travelled with my daughters, and we did it following the recommendations. And it worked. I was more concerned with my goals that were ahead of me, than I was fighting over a president, any inefficiencies in preparations or assistance, claims of loss of freedom. I trusted my doctors and I cared about others. That was important to me. So what were my goals?

Before the pandemic, I had a list of long term goals, difficult as they were expected to reach given my health issues, that I wanted to see. The closest at the time, were seeing my daughters turn 18, and graduating high school. The last thing that I wanted was to be taken out by a disease named after a bad beer (apologies to those who actually like Corona, but I do not care for it).

There are three graduation photos. The first two were for my older daughter, because she had two different graduations, and one of those was held indoors, during a new wave of localized infections last year. The auditorium was packed with several thousand, barely anyone masked, except for me and a handful of others. Again, just like the surgeries, this was one risk I felt I needed to take. Of course Covid was still around a few weeks ago as my younger daughter graduated, but those graduations were held outdoors.

There is a huge difference between trying to prove a point, and making the decision when a risk was worth it. I have zero regrets about my decisions, and as I continue to wear a mask indoors, if that triggers anyone, tough shit. I recently witnessed a bank teller being harassed as she chose to continue to wear a mask. I do not know why she does, it is none of my business. But I respect her choice. As I wrote recently, my daughter works with a co-worker who is battling cancer, and chooses to wear a mask to protect her co-worker, as her co-worker wears a mask also.

Like everyone else, we are all tired of Covid. We had limited time and efforts to eliminate it, but too many chose to either deny it or efforts to curtail it, so now we will deal with it forever. It is now clearly about individuals choosing to do the right thing for themselves, and hope that thoughtfulness and empathy will some day prevail. Though my list of long term goals has shortened, my next milestone is three years away, a college graduation. I know what has gotten me to this point, and as they say, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” I did not think I would set foot into a movie theater again, but I had a gift certificate to use. Pretty sure my concert days are over since ticket prices are now in the range from car payments to mortgage payments. The point is, I am doing what I want and am able to do. Just to make sure, I am going to knock on wood once more. You all be safe too.

All Things Being Equal…


Today is a day that makes it official for me as a Dad, it is going to be quite a while before I am likely to spend time with both of my daughters together at the same time. There are good reasons for it as well. In fact, I actually played a role in this plan.

As my daughters have grown, I had always done my best to treat them equally. This does not mean that they are not their own individual beings. Quite the contrary, they are different in so many ways from their personalities, their interests, and their motivations.

I am in unchartered territory right now, actually I have been my daughters entire lives. All I can hope is that I have done all that I can, and that it was good enough. From the time my oldest daughter was placed in my arms, I learned the role of a Father, “on the job.” I did my best to balance their childhood between playtime, helping with homework, teaching responsibility, and to dream. Being an adult child of divorce, it was key to me, that neither of my daughters experience the loss, witness any conflict, or develop any unnatural feelings toward either parent, something I still struggle with today.

But the one thing that I know my daughters will always know, that I love them both equally. I do not favor one over the other. Together, they complete my world. Over the last year, as my older daughter returned home from her visit with me, I would send her off in her college colors. Now, I have two college colors to wear, and when my younger daughter returns home during the Summer, I will wear her colors as well. Here is the thing.

Do you remember this past year’s Super Bowl? Who did not truly appreciate “Mama Kelce” and her fashion choices, even going as far as stitching two football jerseys together, each representing the team each of her two sons were playing against each other in this year’s Super Bowl. She wore shoes, ear rings, everything representing 1/2 of each team her sons played for.

Though my daughters will be attending college in the same state, I do not believe that there is any sports competitions making them rivals. But that does not change the fact, that I now have two “colors” to wear (coincidentally neither the colors I have worn previously). How do I wear one shirt with both daughters without slighting the other, even if I switch shirts the next day, giving the other daughter her turn at representation? I am certainly not going to stitch the two shirts together.

I have made the decision, I will wear the colors of either, under two conditions. The first, when it is a visit with just one of my daughters. That is easy. The other situation? When I have both daughters together, neither colors will be worn, unless, one leaves earlier than the other, and I will then send off that daughter, wearing her colors, and then wear the colors of the daughter remaining.

Whether it has been presents bought for birthdays and holidays, new clothing for school, or even “hey Dad, can I have $5?”, I have never kept any kind of “score” to keep track and make sure things were “even.” Things were done equally, I just know it.

And whether it be material things, or emotions of pride and love, I give everything to both my daughters equally. They are both heading in different directions, and will each make their own impact on the world as individuals. But as my daughters, they are equals.

Remembering Dad This Weekend


Many will spend this weekend, having an opportunity to spend Father’s Day with their Dads and Grandfathers. Some will not for any number of reasons, whether it be a matter of circumstance such as location (living too far away), domestic situations such as custody orders, and those whose Fathers are no longer with us.

This is Billy Joe Armstrong, of the rock band Green Day, one of my favorite bands. A popular hit, “Wake Me Up When September Ends” was a song that Armstrong wrote for his Father who had passed away from esophageal cancer when Armstrong was just ten years old. He carried the grief of his Father over twenty years when he finally penned the lyrics and recorded one of the major hits of the “American Idiot” album. I only recently learned of this explanation, and have a new profound respect for the singer and the song.

If there is one thing that I could have considered one of my biggest fears, that was leaving my daughters behind in my death with them at such a young age. My daughters had already been witness to so many other kids their age, who suffered the imaginable loss of a Father or Mother, too young to understand why, just that they were never coming back. There are three families that come to mind immediately for me, specifically who lost their Fathers due to either an illness or fatal event.

I was petrified back in April of 2008 when I underwent emergency heart surgery for a condition known as a “widow maker,” for the obvious reason, that if you suffered a heart attack due to this condition, you were fairly likely to die. Caused by my treatments for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma eighteen years earlier, this situation caught me completely off guard. Not only that, but as my cardiologist explained at my first follow up from the surgery, “it was not a question if you were going to die, but when.” Considering that I had been dealing with noticeable symptoms for months prior to the surgery, no one needs to explain just how dire this was.

But with this only being the first of many health crisis I would face that were considered life and death, and remembering the family friends of my daughters and their losses, I never wanted them to hear those words, “your Father passed away.”

Losing a parent does not get any easier, as an adult child either.

When my Father passed away from complications of lung cancer, we could not have been any closer with each other. The loss of my childhood from my Father and divorce, long forgotten, our relationship grew as adult Father and son, and more importantly, getting to watch him with his granddaughters. Prior to his diagnosis, we really had grown much closer together. He had become not only my Dad again, but also one of my most trusted confidantes. My Dad passed away nine years ago, and much like Armstrong, I still miss my Dad all these years later.

As I said, there are other circumstances that can make Father’s Day difficult. Divorce, separation, or any other form of domestic conflict. Some Fathers are actually kept from their children, legally and illegally. In a form of child abuse, there are cases where children are actually encouraged to shun or dislike their fathers in what is called “parental alienation,” often times for nothing more than petty vengeance of the other parent. And then there is what I can only call the despicable, the Fathers who want nothing to do with their children. I will never understand a parent that can just walk away and forget.

Then there is the unthinkable, a Father having to get through Father’s Day, with the loss of a child. Whether it be because of an illness such as cancer, a tragic accident, or as today, an all too frequent occurrence, gun violence, it is unimaginable what it takes a Father to get through this day.

Father’s Day is a day to celebrate, to be grateful for one half of your parental unit, whether alive or passed on. And if you are a parent, it is a day to hopefully celebrate with their child or children, who naturally love their Dad. If there is one thing I convey to my daughters, I do not care about Christmas or any other holiday with them, as much as I care about this one time of year, my day, Father’s Day.

And if you are one of the many parents who do find it hard to celebrate Father’s Day, for any reason, please know that I am keeping you in my thoughts, that either your grief or situation improve, so that either memories can restore joy, or being present again in each other’s lives is made possible as it naturally was meant to be.

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