Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “The Heart”

20 Mar 2024

Is It Lack Of Value, Or Lack Of Priorities?


There is a comment that I have come to learn to despise in recent years, especially during the pandemic. “At least they died doing what they enjoyed. They didn’t live in fear.”

(photo courtesy of Katelyn Mathe and North Penn Now news service)

An article came across my news feed a week ago. Two nineteen year-olds were charged with homicide by vehicle among other charges, stemming from the two racing and killing a 62 year-old woman. These are the photos of the killers.

(photos of these two courtesy of Montgomery County District Attorney’s Office and North Penn Now news service)

These two punks, now killers, were racing their cars on a main highway. I am from the area, so I know where the accident occurred. Which makes the next factor for me to have read, seem impossible. The car that impacted the innocent victim, had been travelling 110 miles per hour, twice the speed limit, and like I said, impossible for me to imagine anyone travelling that fast on that road. This was confirmed by an airbag module in the killer’s car. The other punk, was recorded at 95 miles per hour.

They were doing what they enjoyed, even though it was illegal, besides unsafe, and an innocent 62 year-old woman is dead. Pretty sure she did not enjoy her ride, wherever she was headed.

This is not the first story to grab me like this, and piss me off. We had an accident locally in the last couple of years (actually violent accidents happen a lot here, but that is another story). The was a one car accident that killed a teenage driver. It turns out, he too was racing his car, of course illegal, travelling a high rate of speed, crashing into a tree when he lost control. His one parent reported, “he really loved racing his car.”

And of course, during the Covid pandemic. We had a new virus, no vaccine, no treatment, and contagious as hell, and lethal. But many took the recommendations and eventual required precautions as an afront to their rights and liberties to enjoy their lives, that it should be up to them, to be able to go about their business, risk their health, whatever happens happens. And if Covid got them, at least they were doing what they enjoyed. One local business flat out defied government orders to prevent mass infections, remaining open for all to gather and party as if nothing was happening. I knew of at least two patrons who went there, and died suddenly and mysteriously soon after that. Given that they were only in their forties, and where they were previously, it was likely Covid.

Then you take someone like me, in fact thousands of others like me, dealing with late side effects from our cancer treatments decades ago. There are a lot of things we would like to do, and speaking only for myself, it is not about what I enjoy, but rather what I still want to experience.

During the sixth month of my chemotherapy, during the Winter, I asked my oncologist if I could go skiing, concerned if my body could handle the physicalness of the activity. He said that I could, but cautioned me, that because of how warm I would dress, being Winter, I would likely sweat a lot, and this of course could result in me getting sick. And if I got sick, that would have the potential to delay my next treatment. Which that is the last thing any cancer patient wants to happen. So contrary to how some people react, I was just “living in fear,” no, I wanted my treatments to end when they were supposed to. I could skip skiing one year. It was worth it to me.

That was not the only time I have been in that position. Of course, I have documented my issues with my heart, courtesy of my treatments, which of course has kept me from doing things that I enjoy, such as amusement rides and various other recreational activities. Again, the chants of “living in fear” attack, but given that I am still young, yes at 58 years old, I should still have a lot of years left, I have so much more that I want to experience, that are more important than any kind of recreational activity I wish I could do. But the risk of a fatal cardiac event taking away what I want to experience in my life, is not living in fear at all, it is about what is important.

Somehow, I have cheated death through my survivorship more times than I want to count, and I am still here. I have two wonderful daughters that I have been able to see grow to adulthood from infancy, during some of the most serious of my health issues. They are now in the next stage of their lives and it is amazing to watch. And some day, if they choose to get married and have children, I want to be around for that.

So if that means that I need to avoid certain risks, regardless if they are something that I enjoy, I am not doing it out of fear, I do it for the love of my daughters, so that they do not have to deal with grieving the loss of a father well before it should be time. Yes, I still practice the Covid precautions because they matter to me. I miss certain social activities for sure, but my long term goals with my daughters far outweigh any temporary satisfaction I would get from karaoke or going to see a rock concert.

I guess that is a clear difference between the thought process of a 58 year-old man and two teenage punks, whose lives are now officially over. They loved to race their cars. They killed an innocent woman. They did what they enjoyed. Hope it was worth it to them. I am sure they could have had much different lives had they thought about their futures and how much more valuable that would have been to them.

Posted in Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
14 Mar 2024

20 Years In The Making


I have achieved many things in my life. I have survived many dire circumstances with my health. But there is one aspect of my life, that tops everything combined, being a Dad. And though March 14th is not a birth date, it became the date that would change who I was/am forever, the day I became a father.

Left unable to have biological children from side effects of my chemotherapy for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma back in 1988 (my radiation therapy gets a pass for this issue), and multiple failed attempts through fertility specialists, a decision had been made that if I were to ever become a father, it would be through adoption. While attending an information meeting on adoption, the influence from a newly adopted toddler named “Lily,” the decision was clear, adoption would by my only opportunity to become a dad. And “Lily” showed me it was meant to happen.

Adoption is a very difficult and serious decision to make, because in most cases, the adopting parents, and in some cases, a mother making a heartbreaking choice to place her child for adoption, are making a choice for someone who has no say in the matter. A child is born unto one parent, and then one day, is in the arms of another, likely never to see their birth parent(s) ever again.

There are two types of adoption, domestic and international. Though laws are fairly strict in the United States as far as adoption are concerned, there are chances that a birth mother could change her mind about the adoption, perhaps even years later. For this reason, and this reason alone, I did not want the heartache of having my child taken away from me, even if it was to return to the birth mother.

With “Lily”, I was introduced to the country of China, the last time I had heard about that country was as a senior in high school, so, a long time ago. My memory of what I learned back then came to the forefront, as China’s “one child” policy had resulted in the need to place many children into other families. And there were many families around the world, not just the United States who were more than happy to build their families partnering with China.

I was originally told to expect to travel March 17th, travel plans had been made. Then two weeks before travel, our date was moved up to March 13th. The adoption process had been halted for a number of months due to the SARS outbreak of 2004, and when international travel had opened again, news could not come soon enough that we would be travelling. Moving up the date made it even sooner.

This is an actual picture from the window of the flight that was taking me to my daughter. Upon landing in Hong Kong, all of us traveling were given even greater news.

Thinking there would be a couple of days before we would all get to meet our children, we were informed to get a good night’s sleep, as we begin the adoption process the next morning, meeting our children, and returning to our hotel with our new family members.

The date was March 14th, 2004. There are many things in Chinese culture that are considered lucky or fortuitous, the color red, lady bugs, and something called “the red thread.” This “thread” is actually imaginary but carries one of the most meaningful connections between those who “hold” that “thread”. And though that “thread” will grow and stretch, it will never break. March 14th already was special to me, my late grandfather’s birthday.

From that morning on, my life changed, taking on a whole new meaning, a whole new purpose. Every decision that I would make was now because someone else was counting on me. To refer to parenting as an “experiment,” is an understatement as I grew up without the typical “nuclear” family, the only thing I knew about fatherhood, was what I would have liked to have and did not, as my parents divorced when I was three years old. My only examples of parenthood came from school friends when I would visit their homes.

But when my oldest daughter was placed in my arms, I never gave another thought to what I missed out on, nor what I saw my friends have. The bond between father and child began at that moment for me, instantaneously. While there is a clear difference between giving birth to become a parent, and through adoption, the emotions of that moment where it begins are the same. It took no time at all for me to want to bring a sister into my daughter’s life.

And that moment came almost two years later. With two daughters, I officially became a “girl dad.” And I was the happiest man on the planet. I felt a purpose, a responsibility, every decision that I made in my life, would have either rewards or consequences that would impact my daughters. There was pressure to make sure as they grew up, that they would learn everything they needed to be a responsible and respectable adult. Priorities were morals and manners, of course schooling, responsibilities and decision making, all the while, being a kid. It is said that 90% of our time together, will be before our children turn 18 years old. And boy did I want to make that time count.

Unfortunately, divorce changed the track a bit, but I did everything I could to stick to the original plan. And unlike my childhood where I barely saw my father, technology made it possible for me to stay in contact with them as much as I was able to do so.

And now, here we are, 20 years later. Both of my daughters are in college, independent of their parents, making their own decisions, with so many more to come. But instead of being in the guidance position, I am now in the advisor role. My daughters face decisions and come to me for assistance as needed, things that I may see that they do not.

My health issues have been well documented on this blog, and during their childhoods, my daughters have been through all of them. They are just now learning about my cancer past which gives them understanding why I have the health maladies that I do. But for me, these 20 years have given me meaning, purpose, drive. With the things that I deal with, these years are not guaranteed by any means. However, I want more, many more years, many more experiences. And my daughters are the reason I will continue to fight for those years and my health. I could not imagine where I would be today without them.

Posted in Adoption, Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Politics, Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
09 Mar 2024

Is There Really A Difference?


So earlier this week, I recognized my 34th year “in remission” of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (in quotes for a reason I will explain shortly). As you can see, that coincides with the “countdown” on my page, now just six years away from what I am considering my next major milestone in my cancer survival, 40 years.

But several who follow “Paul’s Heart” on my various resources like Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok, noticed something confusing, perhaps a typo, or had I calculated incorrectly.

My book is titled, “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor.” But I am recognizing 34 years in remission. So which number is correct? Actually, both are correct. In fact, there is a third number to consider. And a cancer survivor would be correct to refer to any of those three to be honored.

The question gets asked often on social media, “what do you consider your ‘survivor’ date?” And honestly, it is up to the cancer survivor what they choose, with three options available; the date diagnosed, the official date of remission (will get into the technicality of this one momentarily), and the date finished with treatments.

I have many medical anniversaries that I recognize each year, of course not all of them good. I never forget those dates. One of those darker dates are coming up next month in fact. But as far as my cancer history, I do remember my actual diagnosis date, well, at least the time period, because I fussed around and delayed and denied getting diagnosed so long (I dedicated a whole chapter in the book to this behavior).

And without spoiling the book, I mentioned an “official” date of remission. This happens usually when “halfway” scans are done halfway through the treatment schedule. If doctors, the treatments, and body have all done according to plan, a patient may hear the word “remission” even before the completion of all of the rounds of treatments. This was an exact date for me. I remember that moment very well when I got that phone call. This announcement creates another situation, and very complicated at that. Patients hear “remission”, and having likely struggled through the treatments they already have gone through, seek to end the rest of the remaining treatments, something nearly all oncologists will recommend to ensure long term remission. As I remind those patients, there is a reason I have hit 34 years in remission, because I followed my doctor’s advice, knowledge, and skills, and finished my treatment plan.

Finally, there is the date that you take that last dose of treatment, whether radiation, or chemotherapy (IV or pill).

So why did I choose to recognize the third option, actually a lower number than years since my diagnosis? I mean, I could do that. In fact, many cancer organizations clearly state that a cancer patient is considered a survivor from the moment they are diagnosed, and that is regardless of the prognosis. For me, this was a time period I would rather forget. While I cannot forget having had cancer, nor would I really want to, I simply do not think about the “when it happened.”

As for when I was declared in remission, that is also a reasonable date to set, but I do not use that date. In the book, I mention I actually hit remission following radiation treatments, but soon after, new disease was discovered (not considered a relapse as it was not in the radiated field). So when I heard “remission” again, this time halfway through the chemotherapy, I wanted to make sure that I was in remission, and that meant waiting until taking my last dose, which happened to be a couple of pills for the last dose (so before anyone fact-checks on March 3, 1990 is indeed a Saturday, I took the last IV dose the prior Friday, February 23rd and had only the pills to finish at that point).

And on March 3rd, it was 34 years since those last pills were taken, what I consider my official “remission” date.

So then why does the book refer to me as a 35-year survivor? Well, because I can. And besides, from an optic angle, the title would have just looked weird saying “34-year survivor” and I did not want to wait another year to publish the book. It took me nearly four years just to get it done.

Whatever date a cancer patient chooses to recognize and celebrate, is up to them, as are their reasons. But no matter if one year, five years, ten years, thirty, forty, or fifty, being a cancer survivor is a big deal. Many of us talk about not wanting cancer to define us, but we definitely find out a lot about who we are, and find out a lot about those around us. And every year that follows is a great one.

Posted in Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment

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