Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

What March 14th Means To Me


March 14th, jokingly referred to as “pi day” making reference to an alternative way the date can be written is similar to the way Pi is written, 3/14 or 3.14.

March 14th, my late grandfather’s birthday, which born in 1893, would make him 125 years old today.  Though I only knew him less than a year, I have been told what he meant to me.  And clearly, his legacy in my town where I grew up, had a major effect on me and many of the decisions (and how they are made).

March 14th, the birth date of one of my nieces.

March 14th, the day I became a dad.

Both of my daughters are adopted from China, a blessing that was not possible biologically or domestically.

The experience of travelling internationally to adopt was not only informative, but humbling.  Because I strongly believe in providing my daughters with as much information and history of their adoptions, the fact that I was able to experience and witness the regions that they came from, enables me to genuinely describe their origins.  But it also important to me that both of my daughters embrace their Chinese heritage and I do all that I can to provide them with such.  Of course, what they do as adults is entirely up to them, but as a parent, it is my responsibility to make sure they learn now.

What my daughters have been told so far has been on an age-appropriate basis as time goes by.  Neither has really had the term “abandoned” explained to them, a legal term in China to declare  a child eligible to be adopted.  There will be legal issues that they will need to prepare for as adults.  But one constant that has been done to the best of my ability, is to keep both of my daughters in touch with their “sisters”, other children that they were adopted with at the same time.

This group photo was the last photo of all ten daughters together, shortly before we left mainland China in 2014.  Inspired by the movie,  “The Joy Luck Club”, I felt it was important, that while each of our daughters would have parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles, their fellow “sisters” were their only true connection to where they came from.

Over the prior days before this photo had been taken, we spent a lot of time with the girls, in many mini or group play dates.  The 1st anniversary of the adoption, we were able to get 9 out of the 10 families back together for a reunion, and though numbers have dwindled over the years (all kids have lives as they grow older, not just adopted ones), this date has always remained important to at least say “hi” to everyone, and wish everyone, “Happy Forever Day.”

Though these group reunions have dwindled, most of the families do still keep in touch with each other.  Better yet, our daughters are all now older, and this connection to each other becomes more important to them.  And by keeping in contact, it has made it easier for them to reach out to each other.

It is quickly approaching, but in just 3 and 4 years, they all will graduate from High School, most likely venture away from their parents, and then it will fall upon them, to continue the bond that we all have worked so hard to keep together, just like in “The Joy Luck Club.”

 

My Daughters’ 1st Amendment Rights


The 1st Amendment to our constitution reads as follows:  “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”  These things are guaranteed, freedom of speech, freedom to peaceably protest, freedom of press, freedom of religion, and the freedom to complain to the government.  This applies to ALL United States citizens.  I repeat, this applies to ALL US citizens.  While there are limitations to the 1st Amendment (not being allowed to yell “fire” in a crowded theatre, hate speech, etc.), there are no limits (including age) as to US citizenship.

Children born in the US or on US properties, are born US citizens.  Children adopted internationally, as were my daughters, who are naturalized through processes at a US embassy of the country adopted from, or go through processes of citizenship back on US soil, ARE ALL US citizens, no matter if 6 months of age, 12 years old, or 40 years old.  But I want to stick with the fact, that children are considered “citizens”, which means that they are also guaranteed their 1st Amendment rights.

There is no age limit to be able to speak freely.  Yes, they must be 18 to vote.  Children in most states must be at 16 years old to drive a car.  Adults must be 21 to drink alcohol and children must only be 18 to smoke tobacco products.  Gun ownership has its own age rules and it is only getting more confusing.  But to stay on track on this post, there is no age limit for the 1st Amendment.

Tomorrow, March 14th, is the first of three planned “protests” to bring attention to something that has existed for decades, but brought to national attention twenty years ago as a boiling point that should never have been reached, violence in schools that led to the massacre at Columbine High School in Colorado.

While many people want to point fingers and blame at weapons of choice, the thing that cannot get lost, while the spotlight is on the most current event, is that for twenty years, our country, our government, and even we as citizens, have done nothing to reverse the direction that violence in schools have taken.  Even the slaughter of kindergartners and 1st graders at Sandy Hook was not enough to get more of a usual response of “thoughts and prayers”, talk about it, forget about it, repeat.

But for some reason, there is a different feeling coming from the senseless tragedy that occurred a month ago in Parkland, Florida.  As usual, the adults are doing the same thing as always, “thoughts and prayers”, blame, our government reps talk about it, and as usual, it appears we are once again at the same point as always, ready to move on, to wait for the next massacre.

What does not help, is that our President took to two televised opportunities, one, meeting with those affected by violence in schools, and the other in a meeting of senators to challenge them to come up with a solution or solutions that he would approve, acknowledging how dire things have become.  He promised families something would be done.  The president called out representatives who could be afraid or intimidated by the National Rifle Association.  It seemed like things were finally going to be going in the common sense direction.  Strict and enforced background checks, increased age limits for long guns to match handguns, banning bump stocks.  We all saw the intent and heard the hope from the president.

But he lied.  Either he had no intention all along, or after meeting with the NRA, he “changed” his own mind, which is kind of ironic considering he had just called out several senators on television for not standing up to the NRA.

The bottom line, here is where we are at following the tragedy in Florida, back at the beginning of the next cycle, waiting for the next act of school violence.  And I am purposely writing it that way, violence.  Because I do not care what weapon is used.  We as adults are letting our children down while we worry about ourselves and what we want.  In the mean time, more children have died in school violence.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing, over and over and over and over and over, and expecting a different result.

I was bullied all throughout elementary and junior high school so I understand violence in school.  I graduated in 1983, probably one of the last years that school violence was not put in the national spotlight.  Fights and other acts of violence were not dealt with using weapons for the most part.  But a few years later, my high school had metal detectors installed after weapons had been discovered being brought to school.  Now, many schools not only have metal detectors, but Student Resource Officers or policemen.  Is it really not that obvious, that violence had increased to the point that armed police officers now patrol our schools, instead of finding a way to deal with the violence itself before it gets to the point of an actual event?  At this point, without addressing dealing with the violence, dealing with the weapons of choice is a moot point.  And while we as adults continue to spin our wheels, protecting our own interests, our youngest citizens tomorrow will exercise their right to speak an peaceably protest.

For 17 minutes tomorrow, March 14th, many students, none forced to do so, will exit their classrooms, and assemble outside, to remember the 17 victims in the Florida school massacre a month ago.  Yes, it will get a lot of media attention.  And that is the point.  The adults, our government have already moved on.  Parkland is now history.  But it is not history, and tomorrow children will remind us that we have not done enough, and the children have not forgotten.

Seriously, as a reader of this post, are you one of the lucky ones who knows what it is like to have gone to school without fear of being shot or stabbed?  Or are you young enough to never know that feeling of being safe?  That is how today’s children go to school.  They have no idea what it is like to go to school without a legitimate fear of being killed.

The school district where my children attend school, is taking the approach of providing a safe, structured, and controlled opportunity for its students to participate in the national walkout tomorrow.  The district has dedicated space to protest, time to do so, and without fear of punishment for leaving class time.  The district is not pushing citizens for exercising their free speech.

The same cannot be said for some other districts such Lewisburg, PA that will serve students with a detention (fortunately that will not be a permanent mark on their record, and the district can still be perceived as being tough on dissidents while standing on the 1st amendment rights of the students), or several districts  in states like Texas who will actually serve suspensions to students who walk out for this protest.  If there is one good response to this particular action, colleges have actually said that participation in the National Walkout tomorrow, and if suspended, most colleges will not hold that discipline against the student applicants.

And of course, outside of the schools, and away from the government, there are the rest of us adults.  And I believe that we all want our children safe.  And  I also believe that most of us adults believe in the rights of the students to assemble tomorrow.  And for those that do not, do so for any possible reasons.  Those that still believe in the “children should be seen not heard” (in other words, have no voice).  There will be those who worry that the fire will continue to be stoked with more fuel so that we continue to talk about violence in the schools, and for some, that means a fear of gun control which I have intentionally avoided talking about in this post.  Of course, the reality, especially for high school seniors, currently 17 or 18 years of age, are going to be voters.  And that is a lot of new voters.  Voters who are now paying attention to the inaction of our government.  Voters who see the money lined in the pockets of our politicians.  Voters who see not the cause of the increased violence in our schools, but definitely see leaders who should be doing just that, lead, and find a solution so that while we protect airports, sports arenas, court houses, we protect our schools with the same efforts.  It is ridiculous that we worry about a bottle of water, or a sandwich going through TSA at an airport, but cannot provide that level of concern when it comes to our children in school.

So, I have encouraged both of my daughters to participate tomorrow.  Realistically, a solution will not happen by the next day, week, or even months later.  But children are willing to do what adults are not.

#ENOUGH

28 Years… Approaching A Milestone In Survival


I woke up this morning, logged on to my computer, and the “counter” on “Paul’s Heart” was the first thing that I saw.  And as my counter is programmed, counting down days and months, it does not get any simpler than on this date, years to go.  I am just two years away from the milestone of 30 years, cancer free.  The math, 30 – 2 = 28.  Today, I received my final chemotherapy for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, 28 years ago.

Early on in my survival, I often looked at my survival very casually, like no big deal.  It was just something I knew would happen.  But as I got in to the second decade of my survival, things became difficult.  And during my third decade, well, just go through my archives, and you can see the many struggles I have faced over the years.

And I do appreciate the positive thoughts and congratulations, I really do.  However, it is the same for me every year.  As I realized I made it another year, I know so many who are struggling right now with their Hodgkin’s or the late side effects from their treatments.  Worse, I remember all of those who have passed away, their bodies no longer able to tolerate the accumulative issues.

I am quickly becoming one of the “old timers” in  the circle of survivors, those who have been out of treatment for decades.  I am also becoming one of the longer survivors as sadly, many have passed away.  Last year was an especially tough year for me emotionally.

There have been many changes in my life over the decades.  My doctors had begged me for years, to finally give my body a chance.  While they said they could not cure me of the developing health issues from radiation and chemotherapies, they did assure me they could slow the process down.  The goal was put into its most meaningful to me, “to see my daughters graduate, get married, and to be a grandfather.”

From the years 2008 through 2012, I did the exact opposite of slowing down.  With my personality, I wanted to prove following my open heart surgery (from radiation damage), I was going to be the exception.  Instead, I tried pushing myself harder and harder and all that resulted was multiple trips to the emergency room.  I was going in the opposite direction of what my doctors wanted.

I made the changes I needed to finally.  And now I believe I have the chance to see all those things in my life happen.  My youngest daughter is at the age now, where she realizes just what I have gone through in my life, even though my experience was decades before she was born.  Both of my daughters understand the many health issues that I deal with, and lay ahead.  As my youngest puts it, “Daddy, you are one of the strongest people I know.”

One thing that has not changed, I remain the advocate I swore myself to be 28 years ago.  I remain active in the cancer community via group and individual support.  I continue to meet patients and other survivors, offering encouragement and support.  While treatments and survival have improved, it is still no easy task to deal with, and we all have our own unique ways of dealing with them.

So, as I usually do today, I recognize 28 years of survival.  I do not celebrate it.  I have met hundreds of other patients ad survivors in person, and have “met” thousands over various internet support groups.  I remember those who have passed away.  I think about all of those who are either going through treatment or dealing with late developing side effects.  But this year, also in the front of my mind, are two friends in particular, one just newly diagnosed, and another having recently dealt with a major side effect less than two months before she gets married.  The following is just a small collage of all the people who came into my life (with the exception of my dad) who have faced their own battle with cancer, since March 3, 1990, and knew or know, that I will always be there for them.

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