Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Cancer – An Uglier Word Than…


When you first mention the phrase, “ugly word”, my mind immediately goes back to the comedic bit by George Carlin, and his “seven words you can’t say on TV.”  To me, those words are just that, words.  They cannot hurt physically, though they have the potential to hurt emotionally.  To me, cancer is an even uglier word than those recited by Carlin.  I have every right to make that claim, because just as the other words can hurt emotionally, so can cancer.  But cancer hurts physically as well.

I can make this claim.  Besides coming into my life with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma back in 1988, cancer has decimated my family.  My paternal grandmother died from cancer of the gall bladder.  My paternal grandfather died from complications of lung cancer.  My maternal grandmother survived breast cancer only to succumb to ovarian cancer.  My sister passed away from a relapse of aplastic anemia (a form of leukemia) after having been in remission for over three decades.  And this past May, I lost my father to lung cancer.

I have had many more friends pass away from cancer and have known many more who have died as well.  Yes, I get to state that cancer is a very ugly word.

Over the years, there have been many campaigns used to draw attention to cancer.  “Save The TaTa’s” is a campaign for breast cancer, a campaign I support (figuratively, not literally – no pun intended).  While it may lack “taste” to some, it does get attention, which of course leads to awareness.

A couple of years ago though, a new campaign began.  I first became aware of it while on a Facebook page for Lymphoma.  A young woman had been celebrating the announcement of their remission.  A picture had been taken of her holding a sign in one hand, and her other hand was posed with her middle finger sticking up with the old one-finger salute.  I know where the finger was directed because the sign said simply, “F*ck Cancer!”  Clearly she was making a statement of defiance.

Normally, when we hear or see the F-bomb, it is generally used in slang or some obscene sexual reference, and this is not normally acceptable used by society.  But I personally feel, when it is used an expression of anger or defiance, it is emotion that needs to come out.  Dropping an F-bomb on Cancer to me is not a “dirty use” of the word.  Cancer patients have every right to be angry, and I definitely want cancer patients to be defiant to cancer.  Cancer expects us to just roll over and die, not fight back.

Since the time I discovered that FB page, it has grown so much.  And it is now a movement with over 171,000 “likes”.  These are people who have stood up to cancer, or will do what they can to stop cancer.  But before you judge them, just because they use a word unaccepted by society, check them out:

https://www.facebook.com/FxckCancerUSA

I do not normally use language considered obscene.  I do not really need to do that when I have conversations.  But when it comes to taking on one of the ugliest words in the world, cancer, I have no problem saying “Fuck Cancer.”  I have more than earned my right to say that after what cancer has done to me and my family.

Cancer And Food


Seems like a weird thing to write about when it comes to cancer, no?  Not really.  Of course, maintaining a healthy diet, proper calorie intake, as well as eating balanced meals is crucial when giving your body all of the nourishment it needs to go through treatments, recovery, and survival.

I will not get into specifics of diet, as I am definitely the wrong person to give advice on particular diets.  Myself, I am still learning to eat the correct way, healthy.  And I struggle because I am such a picky eater.  But I am getting better at it.

But instead, this post is about warnings and restrictions.  When going through certain therapies, whether radiation or chemotherapies, there may be restrictions that you need to be aware of.  And definitely something you should ask you doctor when undergoing treatments.

For instance, when I was undergoing my chemo, the old and currently unused MOPP-ABV regimen, I was told that I would have to avoid broccoli and cauliflower which of course was not going to be difficult for me to do as this would cause reaction with my chemo.  But, there were foods that I did eat, and drinks, that I did enjoy, and if consumed could cause some problems as well.  I was not allowed to eat anything processed, like cheese.  And I LOVE cheeses.  But, seeing how I had been following the rules with everything else the doctors had warned me not to do, I was not going to jeopardize anything.  Until…

One thing I was warned about consuming, was caffeinated products.  Now, in all seriousness, I did wait until the end of my cycle, but I was really “jonesing” for a Coke.  I did not drink it during the entire two week cycle, but my wife and I were going out to a party on the final night, so I figured it would be safe for me to have a Coke, and smile.  I ended up having the worst case of indigestion that lasted well into the next day.  Now for the record, I did have other Cokes during the “off” weeks of my treatment with no issue.  But after that one episode.  I found out the hard way, if a doctor suggests that you do not do something, you listen.

Radiation therapy had presented me with a difficult challenge.  Because I am such a picky eater, one of the things I ate constantly was pasta and pizza.  And face it, going through treatment, weight was not going to be a concern, and it should have been a good thing if I ate all those carbs.  The problem is that the acid in the tomato sauce was no good for my throat area while undergoing radiation.  It was only a month, but I did as the doctors recommended.

Finally, unlike the stereotype of cancer patients, looking emaciated, I gained fifty pounds while going through my chemo.  The prednisone, a steroid, has a side effect of increasing hunger.  Hodgkin’s patients often refer to this amongst ourselves as either “moonface” or “pumpkinface” because of the weight that we gain so quickly on that drug.  I was eating pasta and ice cream up to four times a day because I was so hungry, and because I was picky, I ended up consuming all those carbs every day.

Most cancer facilities now have a nutritionist among their staff.  Just as with other facets of treatment, diet should not necessarily be relied upon by yourself.  It may be decades later for me, but it took me all that time to realize just how good it was, to deal with someone who understood cancer and diet, because they were involved in the cancer field.

Cancer And Music


Music has always been a part of my life, forever.  I am a third generation vocalist, though admittedly, at this point in my life, it is purely for enjoyment and relaxation.  I look for any opportunity to simply hang out and listen to local bands jam, karaoke, or even just tune in with my Ipod.  But for a time in my life, it was probably one of the most important coping mechanisms to deal with my battle with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and well into my survivorship.

Often times, we associate a particular song with an event, place, or person in our lives.  For instance, whenever I hear Chicago “Wishing You Were Here”, I recall hearing the song for the first time back in the early 1970’s blaring from the speakers outside of the entrance to the Thunderhawk rollercoaster at Dorney Park in Allentown, PA.  Every time.

But in 1989, as I was heading to St. Luke’s Hospital to begin my radiation therapy treatments, a song came on the radio which served as a stark reminder, that I was going to need great tunes to help me deal with the journey that was ahead of me.  As controversial as the song was, Madonna’s “Like A Prayer”, it reminded me that I needed more than just the doctors, nurses, and treatments.  I had strong faith back then, and just hearing the word “prayer” sparked that reminder.  But then I started to piece together a playlist of songs, that I would record onto “cassette tape” (for those of you that are reading this and are too young, the cassette tape is a small plastic case with a recordable tape inside, that we constantly had to use a pencil to re-spool the tape when the mechanism failed and just continued to feed the tape anyway), and then place the tape into my “Walkman” (yes, the predecessor to the MP3 player, the predecessor to the Ipod, which is now the process of whatever device is currently being used).  But every radiation treatment, and every chemotherapy treatment, I listened to my Walkman.  By doing this every day, I remembered that I listened to it the day before, which reminded me that I got through the day before, and I would be able to get through today as well.  Music took me away from the chair I sat in at the chemotherapy suite and allowed me to be distracted by other things.  And since the 1980’s brought on music videos, positive imaging, which I learned from Norman Vincent Peale was made even easier (and yes, “Positive Imaging” was the name of his book).

Now, as I continue my follow up visits, which require a lot of travel, I do use my Ipod, packed with music, and meditate while I ride the trains and subways to get to Manhattan.  This helps me to maintain calmness.  In spite of being in remission all of these years, I still face other health issues.  And I would rather be calm heading into my appointments, than already be torqued up, if given news other than I was expecting.

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