Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

It’s Been A Better Year


Well, in just three more days, my gym is going to get more crowded again, an annual ritual. Ever since Covid-19, I have done all I can to be in the gym alone so as not make people feel they need to do anything to protect me in the gym, like wiping down equipment or staying out when they are sick. But with the new year’s rush, I will now likely get to the gym even before the sun comes up, or just before I go to bed.

I don’t do resolutions, rather, I should say I do not do them anymore. This annual “tradition” of making a promise to oneself to “do” or “give up,” more than often ends up in futility and failure. I already don’t drink or smoke, I don’t eat candy, I may let my blood pressure rise in traffic (unavoidable with Florida drivers), but really, there are not any behaviors I want to change. That is the key word, “want” to change.

Instead, I like to look back at the year that has passed. And better than any resolution that I could have made and broken, upon reflection, I like to recognize if I had a good year, or perhaps not as good as it could have been, and what could have been different.

Over these last four decades, it is not often that I have gone through a year without at least one challenge. But 2023 will be one of those years (I am knocking on wood right now as there is still three days left). 2023 has been a pretty good year for me.

2023 marked the end of my term dealing with the family court system. Like for many, and I know my trolls who actively participated in my divorce reading this, will enjoy this sentence, these last ten years of have been both a struggle and a nightmare. My sole focus of survival had been on my daughters, my health and everything else be damned. And I did it. For ten years, I navigated the family courts with all I had, and against everything that had been thrown at me. And in the end, for those that wanted nothing more than my daughters to turn against me, they lost

As my second daughter turned 18, the relationships with my daughters took a new turn. We now deal with only each other. Every decision, every visit, every conversation, is between the two of us. And while others may continue to want to try to interfere or demean the relationship, it is over.

I want to be careful with this next paragraph, not to manifest anything, but having passed my 2nd anniversary since my heart valve repair, it has now been my 2nd year of just follow ups. Though I do have a stat that is being watched, overall, everything has been stable. No trips to a… well, you know.

Another good year of health, means that I have also reached more milestones in my survivorship. I reached my lowest weight in over thirty years, cracking 200 pounds having lost thirty-eight pounds this year. I have now seen both my daughters graduate high school, something fifteen years ago had almost been taken away from me, and a fight every year since. Now, both are in college and doing well. I have my eyes set on my next milestone, of course with them, seeing them graduate college. As each year passes for me, I know the odds become more difficult with my health history, but I am so close. This is within my grasp.

https://a.co/d/2JRZsZ3 (this is the link to the book on Amazon)

And finally to top off 2023, I published my first book, “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor.” It took me four years, and really with nothing to do during Covid-19, it should have been done much sooner. It is still surreal to me to see my life actually presented in a book. And now, I have five more actually started, sequel/prequel if you will as well as plans for speaking engagements to support the book.

I have nothing on my calendar for 2024, other than following the successes of my daughters with each passing semester, and the directions their lives will take them.

I want to thank you all for following “Paul’s Heart”, now reading my book. I want to wish you all a Happy and Prosperous and Healthy new year. See you in 2024!

To Port Or Not To Port


When I think of the word “port,” my mind naturally goes to a place where a cruise ship pulls in for passengers to get off the boat, or perhaps where our country receives imports from other countries. But for today’s cancer patients, a “port” is a device that makes administering chemotherapy so much easier, and comfortable.

For survivors like me, we did not have the option of a port to administer chemo. But as you read my book “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor” (available on Amazon), the port is another great progress made in treating cancer.

The question came from one of my feeds for current Hodgkin’s Lymphoma patients. ”Are you able to opt out of having a port for treatment?” This seems like a perfect question to ask by someone with no experience in cancer, and also likely to not have had any kind of surgery previously. The port is placed under the skin, which requires surgery. So, that of course is scary. And because diagnosis and staging is done with less surgeries than when I was treated, unlike just being another surgery for me, this can be overwhelming.

Typically, once placed, the only ones who will be aware that you have a port, is you, your oncologist, and your oncology nurse administering the chemo. Except for a bump or some raised skin, underneath your clothing, it is not visible to anyone else. So cosmetically it does not harm.

Here is the true benefit. Chemotherapy wreaks havoc on the veins, irreparable damage. I am not going to get all nerdy and scientific, as my experience and history explain it pretty well enough. I simply have no surface veins left for even a simple blood draw for a normal non-cancer blood test. As I went through each treatment, more and more veins became less usable. This also meant more “needle sticks” to find other veins.

Of course, I did get through my treatments, without ports being available yet. But now, here is how a simple blood draw goes for me. I walk into a lab. I sit in the chair. And the phlebotomist or tech asks me my name. I say, “Paul Edelman. I am a 33 year survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma with chemo-ravaged veins. I am a hard stick. So I am going to ask you to use a “butterfly gauge” needle, and if you are able to find a vein, only if you are confident that you can hit it, then go for it. Otherwise don’t. I develop major anxiety with multiple sticks. If you don’t think you can do it, ask someone who might have more experience, or if you can use doplar to locate a deeper vein. I don’t mind. I actually prefer that.”

Even if you were not the one drawing blood from me, would you want that kind of pressure put on you? Would you be irritated with the whininess? Would you do all you can to prevent a panic attack that will begin with draw attempt number three? This has been my life for thirty-five years now. My daughters have always been better with blood tests than me. I do not bother with being embarrassed. I combine all my blood tests to be done at the same time. And there is only one place that I have confidence in the staff to listen to me. I have actually been in the ER with nurses who refused to even try because they knew what I was talking about.

I would not be in this situation today, if I had the option to have a port, and have my chemotherapy administered that way. There would be no seek-and-destroy veins, just the constant dose into the same location. No stress, no anxiety.

I really cannot on the port itself since I did not have one. My father had one placed when he was treated for his lung cancer. But the overwhelming response to the writer was in support of getting a port. You could see an understand the writer was apprehensive, possibly scared. We do not come into cancer with experience, normally unless a patient has relapsed or developed another cancer. And “back in the day,” there was no social media to seek peer advice on what to do.

While there were a minority of patients who toughed it out without a port, the majority of patients expressed relief with having had the port placed. One response actually mentioned one of the only times a port might not be considered, and that is if the surgery and recovery were to delay treatment beyond any reasonable timing.

The important thing to keep in mind, just as the situation with cancer itself, the port is not permanent. The port will eventually be removed after a certain amount of time that chemotherapy is completed. The difference between those with ports and me? Those with ports will still have working veins for routine bloodwork. 

A Christmas Message


I have so many wonderful memories of Christmas’s with my daughters such as this one, their first Christmas together. For the first ten years as their father, I had found a way to once again find joy in the holidays.

Of course, as many families find themselves, in divorce, new arrangements need to be made. Knowing how difficult it could get in arranging time with the holidays, and with holidays not really having any personal importance to me, I made the decision to avoid any potential conflict, and instead chose time around the holidays to have my daughters visit.

I would see my daughters in between Christmas and New Year’s for the most part when it was possible. The feeling of Christmas was still in the air, and of course, there were still presents to be had. For me, it was all about getting to see my daughters.

This year, more so than any other year, I have many friends who are coming to this holiday, with major changes in their lives through loss, whether by divorce or death. This will be the first Christmas that they are going through, I purposely chose not to use the word “celebrate” as I’m not sure that they feel this particular year feels as such. My thoughts are with each and every family just trying to get through this year.

And then there are those who have faced major health issues (some both family loss and health), and are overcoming those challenges. So many of my fellow Hodgkin’s survivors have undergone procedures this year, including a heart transplant, the true gift of life. For all of those I am sure this is definitely going to be a special holiday.

This holiday season did not turn out the way that I had hoped for sure. But with my daughters both adults now, there will come a time when I get to seem them on Christmas Day once again. And until then, I will just continue the holidays with them as I have these last ten years, with the aid of technology.

May you and your families have a wonderful Christmas.

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