Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Happy Birthday Dad. Wish You Were Here.


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Today would have been my dad’s 71st birthday.  My dad, in spite of battling terminal lung cancer, had only one goal towards the end of his life, reach 70 years of age, a major accomplishment for those on the paternal side of my family.  We are not known for our longevity.  But in spite of this factor, it is hard to imagine how much longer that he would have lived, regardless of our family history, had he not smoked for 55 years.

It is funny.  Age has always been something that I have never really thought about, whether for myself, family, or friends.  It never dawns on me until perhaps a birthday is announced, or you hear about the age mentioned in an obituary.  But I am sitting her, trying to come to terms that my Dad was 70 when he passed.

I missed most of my childhood with my father, a decision that I would later learn in life was his.  I never asked, nor will I, either parent, what happened with their divorce, what caused it, etc..  It was in my twenties that I would learn more importantly two things.  He thought about my sister and I all of the time, and wished things could have been different.  My Dad recognized that he missed a lot in our lives by the decisions that he made.

While he felt immense guilt for his actions, he was glad for the second chances with us, especially in the role of grandfather.  And it is in that capacity, that I told my father, he could make up for lost time with me, through my daughters.  And he took every opportunity he could, whether it was lifting the “oreo” shaped cookie jar down for Madison to grab a favorite snack, or making Emmalie laugh.  Yes Dad, you more than made up for the time that we lost.

It was his conscience that helped to guide me through my divorce and dealing with custody and visitation with my daughters in the early stages of his cancer battle.  My father was accepted my decision to file for the divorce, and the reason behind it.  I say accepted, because “supporting” the decision was not his place.  The divorce was between my estranged wife and I.  His concern was for those of my daughters.  Knowing and remembering what he carried his whole life, he clearly did not want me to make the same decisions that he made.  My Dad did not want me to wait like he did until my children were in their twenties to let them know about the absence from their lives.

My Dad left it up to me, to deal with my divorce.  There was no judgment, and as my estranged wife and I dealt with a crisis with our youngest daughter, my Dad upon visiting handled himself neutrally in the presence of my estranged wife.  And that is exactly how he handled himself to his last living breath, concern for the children, not for the battle between the parents.

It is his example that I am living my life by these days.  No matter what has happened throughout this lengthy process (still far from being over I have been warned), no matter the interference, no matter the legal issues being thrown at me, my daughters will never be taken away from me because I will never let them think for one minute that I have ever forgotten them, or not think about them.

I cannot imagine how my father felt all those years, over 15 years, but it must have been Hell for him.  It has been less than a year for me since custody was set, and I miss my daughters so much.  I do hope for a legal resolution soon, so that I can get back to spending time with my daughters again.

There are so many things that I miss about my Dad in the short time since he passed.  I miss his encouragement, but I live by the memories of it every day, to take the high road through this whole process.  While my children are old enough now to remember certain trauma in their lives, it is all the more important to get these things resolved.  It is difficult to understand why everything is happening the way that it has, but as long as I can get things straightened out, the time lost, though never to be gotten back, will hopefully not be too much.

 

“Hey, Why The Long Face?”


A horse walks into a bar.  The bartender approaches the customer for his order and asks, “hey, why the long face?”

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It is an old joke, but for the purposes of this post, a great example of how something so obvious can be further from what is actually the case.  It happens a lot to us as humans as well.

Years ago, following shortly after my heart surgery, a comment was made to me, that I needed to cheer up.  And I remember that initial comment very well.  Because all things considered that I was going through at the time, I was actually in a pretty good mood.  But my co-worker who was making the erroneous judgment of my mood, was actually reacting to a physical observation.

Unbeknownst to me, I had developed a habit of walking with my head down, as if sulking, or perhaps sad or depressed.  And it had been so common for me to be seen this way, that friends and co-workers had grown concerned.  I do not know how long this had been going on, but it appeared that I finally got attention for it.  I lifted my head up, and looked at my coworker and told him that I was fine.  He told me that he was getting so concerned about me, because I had been walking with my head down for so long.

About the same time, I became a patient at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in their “survivorship clinic” studying long term cancer survivors for late effects, and how to manage them.  The first two doctors remarked almost immediately upon my physical appearance once I had removed my shirt.  Both had confirmed that I had lost a major amount of muscle mass from my upper body area, the same area that had been subjected to an ungodly amount of radiation to treat me for my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  So, not only did the radiation cause the need for my heart surgery, but it had also caused damage to my physical being.

The good thing about being seen at a long term survivor clinic that specializes in the care of those of us who have survived their cancer for as long as we have, and unfortunately developed severe, permanent, non-reversing conditions, is that at least we would at least learn how to manage the side effects, and the pain and discomforts that come with them.

For the purposes, I am only going to touch on one of these physical issues from the radiation damage, also known as Radiation Fibrosis Syndrome.  Dr. Michael Stubblefield (one of my physicians at MSKCC) discusses this medical condition in great detail on the web site:

http://www.cancerforward.org

“Dr. Stubblefield explains in his article, “Any tissue within the radiation field can be affected including nerves, muscles, blood vessels, bones, tendons, ligaments, heart or lungs. The clinical manifestations (i.e., signs and symptoms) that result from RF are called radiation fibrosis syndrome (RFS). RF can occur a few weeks or months after radiation treatment and continues for the duration of a cancer survivor’s life. The patient and their doctor may not notice RFS until years after treatment. Unfortunately, there is no way to stop the progressive RF that results from radiation treatment.”

In all my years exercising, I never noticed the physical difference with my body following my cancer treatments.  But once it was pointed out to me, I could see it very clearly.  Any exercise you do, works out a specific group of muscles.  This is why you are supposed to a do well-rounded routine of exercises so that you concentrate on all groups of muscles.  But when you have lost muscle mass, and you exercise only the groups of muscle that you have left, the visibility is obvious.  I am missing half of my pectoral muscles (making it look like I only have the lower half of each breast), the majority of both of my deltoids are gone, and my trapezius muscles are non-existent.  So that is just the upper torso muscle damage.

When you get to my neck, I have lost the majority of the lateral (rear) muscles of my neck from radiation deterioration, and have some anterior (front) muscle loss.  While not textbook by definition, because I still have muscle in the front of my neck, the effect is still the same, my head was drooping, or dropping.

Many of us “older” Hodgkin’s patients have a visual description of our radiated neck area, referred to as “Hodgkin’s Neck” because with no muscle mass of the neck, the neck of a Hodgkin’s survivor may have a “pencil neck” appearance.  And it is very obvious.  Those who have this amount of loss are probably more susceptible to the “drooping head” simply by not having the strength to support the weight of the skull.

In my case, the front muscles of my neck actually pull my head forward, having no resistance from the lack of lateral muscles.  Hence, my head hung low constantly, unaware of why.  But it was not because of my mood, there was an actual physical cause.  Combine this issue, with the fact that I was dealing with my surgically repaired chest muscles following my open heart surgery, which were now also pulling my both of my shoulders forward.

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This is where Dr. Stubblefield came in.  Where every other doctor outside of the MSKCC network that I was being seen by, only Dr. Stubblefield recognized what needed to be done.  I would have two choices, either something referred to as a “headmaster collar,”

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or physical therapy.  Dr. Stubblefield was allowing me to make my decision.

As Dr. Stubblefield stated further in his Cancerforward.org article:

“Physical therapy is highly individualized to the patient and involves normalizing body balance by stretching tight structures, strengthening weakened muscles, and retraining the body’s sensory organs to re-establish coordination. For instance, in the case of HL patients with dropped head syndrome and severe neck pain, functional deficits are not just a simple matter of the patient not having enough strength and endurance to lift their head. Invariably their chest wall and pectoral girdle are tight and bound down with their shoulders forward which puts their neck in a flexed position. All of this must be released which is where advanced myofascial techniques come into play. Their core muscles must also be strengthened and conditioned as they are almost always very weak. The fibrosis restricts the flow of lymph fluid throughout their chest and thorax creating a barrier that must be mobilized if the proprioceptors (sensory organs that provide position sensation) are to function effectively. Without properly functioning proprioceptors, the patient cannot even tell that their head is upright without their eyes open making them more prone to fatigue.”

Finally, not only has the condition been given a name, but also a firm definition and description, as well as a plan to manage the condition.  I chose physical therapy, and actually, went through several courses of physical therapy for not only my neck, but for the rest of the physical issues that I deal with.  I know very well the exercises that I must do, to keep from reversing back to my drooping head, not willing to say that it will come back.

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But all of the exercises in the world, cannot help, if a patient is not given the time to complete them.  There are a lot of exercises to be done, and they take time.  Finding a balance while trying to earning a living, raising a family, taking care of a household, and then finding time to complete physical therapy needs, after being clearly exhausted and fatigued, mean that the odds of the drooping head returning, are quite realistic.

Speaking on the behalf of not just Hodgkin’s Lymphoma patients and survivors, but all cancer patients and survivors, our bodies have gone through, or go through so much trauma, not just from the cancer itself, but also from the treatments.  Our bodies are changed forever.  It is so important to make sure that the doctors that care for us, not only recognize our issues, not only accept our issues as real, but give us the care and direction that we need, so that we can manage our lives to the fullest potential.

 

Walk And Chew Gum


This morning’s walk was quite an active one, much more than I like the morning walk to be.  For me, it is about starting my day, with a clear head, with a positive direction.

Everything can change during this walk, depending on what has happened in the days before.  As of late, you may as well throw everything I am dealing with in a blender and hit the “puree” button.

Like I said, I want my day to start off slowly, and constructively.  I only got a couple of blocks from the front door, when three or four things that have been on my mind regularly, quickly jumbled around in my head for the top story to be dealt with today.

Just as I lost focus of my morning ritual, there he was, Oakley.

Oakley

Though Oakley’s coat was much darker than what a golden retriever normally had, he was definitely a golden.  And yes, being the sucker I am for goldens, I had to stop and pet him.  This is not the first time that I have seen Oakley.  It is only natural that he has a very friendly personality.  I immediately got down on the ground so that my head was at the same level as his big “square head.”

Oakley lets me pet him, much the same way I used to pet Pollo, rubbing his chest under his chin, scratching and rubbing his ears, and of course reminding him just how handsome he is.  As I looked up to carry on a conversation with his owner, taking my attention away from Oakley, I got a reminder that my attention was desired somewhere else.

Just as Pollo used to do to me, Oakley took his left front paw, and placed it on my right arm which had been resting on my knee, similar to shaking “paws.”  I looked at Oakley and he had that huge golden grin.

Slowly my focus regained momentum, to start my day as I was intending to, one detail at a time, clear, and sharp.  I lowered Oakley’s paw back to the ground, stood up, and said goodbye to both Oakley and his owner, so that I could continue on my way.  Oakley was not ready to say goodbye, as he stayed in a seated position.  I crossed the street and looked back.  Oakley’s owner was trying to convince him it was time to move on, and Oakley was having no part of it.

Funny, Pollo had a stubbornness about him too.  Oakley was not ready to go, he wanted more attention from me.  Or perhaps he was just helping me, getting me to slow down my thoughts.  Enjoy the day.

Thank you Oakley.

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