David Haas from the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance
(http://about.me/haasblog) asked me to post this short article he wrote.
Thanks, David.
Cancer: Physical Fitness, Well-Being, and Recovery
One of the most important components in fighting cancer is a positive mental outlook combined with an optimal level of overall fitness. Physical fitness plays an essential part in reducing stress, fatigue, and depression during cancer treatment and recovery, and contributes to a positive mental state and enhanced feeling of well-being. Studies have shown that even 30 minutes of activity, such as taking a walk every day, provides a beneficial effect for cancer patients at any stage. An improved level of physical fitness boosts the mental and physical stamina needed to fight this disease, and can reduce the risk of a recurrence of some cancers by up to 40%. For example, Mesothelioma doctors have discovered that an increase in fitness levels improved lung function and increased the length and quality of life in patients after diagnosis and mesothelioma treatment.
According to studies conducted by the National Cancer Institute and other research facilities, physical activity and fitness can also have a direct and specific bearing on the development and recurrence of certain types of cancer. Decreasing the amount of fat in the body increases the level of certain hormones, including estrogen, which affect the growth and development of tumors. Regular exercise also causes the release of endorphins, which elevate mood, reduce stress, and aid in pain management.
Some other benefits of better fitness on treatment and recovery can include:
- An increase in energy and reduction of fatigue.
- A lessening of the occurrence and severity of some of the side-effects of treatment, such as loss of appetite, insomnia, constipation, weight gain, muscle weakness, and osteoporosis.
- A reduction of the occurrence and severity of secondary health issues caused by cancer treatment and certain medications. This includes high blood pressure, heart and kidney disease, and abnormal blood sugar levels.
- A shorter recovery time after treatment.
- A better prognosis and lower incidence of recurrence.
Physical fitness during and after cancer treatment equals better overall health, lower stress levels, and an improved sense of emotional well-being. It can help provide you with a better quality of life in recovery and beyond. While it is never too late to begin a regimen of physical activity, it is important to speak with your doctor to decide what level of activity is right for you, and how to incorporate it into your treatment and recovery plan.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Good Vibes Needed for Winnie and Frieda, and a Great Resource
Please send out your best Good Vibes for two friends who have recently been diagnosed with cancer.
Winnie Brown is the mother of Deb Rupp, one of our closest friends. Winnie has been diagnosed with an extremely rare type of cancer, adenocarcinoma, which originates in sweat glands--in her case along the scalp line between her right eye and ear. She had a procedure to scrape away several layers of skin in a large area and is now waiting for that to heal so she can start radiation treatments. Winnie is in good spirits, but understandably nervous about what lies ahead. Even with what she's going through, she is still going to be the star cook at her annual Christmas Eve brunch Saturday.
Frieda Hicks is the mother of Sue Metzler, our sister-in-law. Frieda has been diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer. She has had two procedures to take out cancer tissue, and is in a wait and see period as the docs decide possible next steps. Like many people, she has heard and read the horror stories that go with chemo and radiation, so is apprehensive about those treatment options.
About a month ago I found a great web site for cancer patients, caregivers, and survivors--appropriately called Cancer Survivors Network, at:
http://csn.cancer.org/welcome
It has discussion groups based on different kinds of cancers, so members can communicate with others who have been or are going through the same or similar situations. You don't have to register to read the posts, but you must register to post or reply to a post. While I had the best medical treatment and support I could have asked for, it would have been great to be in touch with others who were patients or survivors themselves of base of tongue cancer. If not for your own use, please pass this along to others who might benefit from it.
Mike
Winnie Brown is the mother of Deb Rupp, one of our closest friends. Winnie has been diagnosed with an extremely rare type of cancer, adenocarcinoma, which originates in sweat glands--in her case along the scalp line between her right eye and ear. She had a procedure to scrape away several layers of skin in a large area and is now waiting for that to heal so she can start radiation treatments. Winnie is in good spirits, but understandably nervous about what lies ahead. Even with what she's going through, she is still going to be the star cook at her annual Christmas Eve brunch Saturday.
Frieda Hicks is the mother of Sue Metzler, our sister-in-law. Frieda has been diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer. She has had two procedures to take out cancer tissue, and is in a wait and see period as the docs decide possible next steps. Like many people, she has heard and read the horror stories that go with chemo and radiation, so is apprehensive about those treatment options.
About a month ago I found a great web site for cancer patients, caregivers, and survivors--appropriately called Cancer Survivors Network, at:
http://csn.cancer.org/welcome
It has discussion groups based on different kinds of cancers, so members can communicate with others who have been or are going through the same or similar situations. You don't have to register to read the posts, but you must register to post or reply to a post. While I had the best medical treatment and support I could have asked for, it would have been great to be in touch with others who were patients or survivors themselves of base of tongue cancer. If not for your own use, please pass this along to others who might benefit from it.
Mike
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
More "Wait and See"
I had an appointment with the oral surgeon today and the result is more "Wait and see" on my rate of healing from the ORN. Because the next two possible steps both involve complicated and painful surgery, she is going to give that area every chance to heal on its own. She did see some small signs of healing, but the rate is way behind what it should be, and I have developed another ulcer, this time on the right side of my mouth.
I am going to see one or two other doctors for their opinions before a decision is made to stay this course or move on to Plan B or Plan C. Looks like mid-January until another decision point is reached.
So, Team Mike's Good Vibes might have allowed me to turn a corner on this, but keep them coming--this is far from resolved.
mike
I am going to see one or two other doctors for their opinions before a decision is made to stay this course or move on to Plan B or Plan C. Looks like mid-January until another decision point is reached.
So, Team Mike's Good Vibes might have allowed me to turn a corner on this, but keep them coming--this is far from resolved.
mike
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Healing Plan A Now a 50/50, Plans B and C Ain't Pretty
I've had three follow up appointments with the oral surgeon since the tooth extraction in early October. The bottom line is that the healing process on the outside of my gum line is way behind schedule. The tissue on the inside of my gum line is just about totally healed. The hyperbaric oxygen treatments plus the extraction were Plan "A"--the most conservative route in trying to fight the osteoradionecrosis (ORN) in my lower left jaw.
As of today, that Plan has about a 50/50 chance of succeeding. The doctor is giving it another three weeks before Plans B or C are considered.
Plan B would have this oral surgeon dig down a bit into my jaw until she finds healthy bone tissue, fill it in with something akin to Liquid Nails, and then hope the soft tissue can grow over that. No way to know yet how much she would have to dig out (and then how much Liquid nails she would use). The hopeful result would leave me enough healthy and fortified bone tissue in my jaw to let me function pretty much normally.
Plan C is even much more drastic. A different kind of oral surgeon would take out an entire section of my jaw and then either insert a metal plate or graft some bone from another part of my body--probably a tibia. The metal plate would provide more short-term protection to that area. The bone graft is less protective in the short term, but better in the long term, since it's my own tissue--and I would avoid setting off airport security warnings before every flight.
The point that I heard very clearly today is that the ORN will continue to be degenerative until all of the dead bone is gone and normal blood flow returns to that area--waiting it out is not a long-term option and the oral surgeon was seriously thinking of abandoning Plan A now and going on to B or C immediately.
Sorry for the graphic descriptions, but that's my introduction to a call out to Team Mike--I need your good vibes over the course of the next three weeks, to help me heal from the ORN naturally and avoid the other two options. The good news in the meantime is that I have only a low level of pain, so the 3-week wait isn't bad that way.
Terry and I wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving--and as I have in the last few years, will show additional thanks for being a cancer survivor, on top of everything else that's good in my life.
mike
As of today, that Plan has about a 50/50 chance of succeeding. The doctor is giving it another three weeks before Plans B or C are considered.
Plan B would have this oral surgeon dig down a bit into my jaw until she finds healthy bone tissue, fill it in with something akin to Liquid Nails, and then hope the soft tissue can grow over that. No way to know yet how much she would have to dig out (and then how much Liquid nails she would use). The hopeful result would leave me enough healthy and fortified bone tissue in my jaw to let me function pretty much normally.
Plan C is even much more drastic. A different kind of oral surgeon would take out an entire section of my jaw and then either insert a metal plate or graft some bone from another part of my body--probably a tibia. The metal plate would provide more short-term protection to that area. The bone graft is less protective in the short term, but better in the long term, since it's my own tissue--and I would avoid setting off airport security warnings before every flight.
The point that I heard very clearly today is that the ORN will continue to be degenerative until all of the dead bone is gone and normal blood flow returns to that area--waiting it out is not a long-term option and the oral surgeon was seriously thinking of abandoning Plan A now and going on to B or C immediately.
Sorry for the graphic descriptions, but that's my introduction to a call out to Team Mike--I need your good vibes over the course of the next three weeks, to help me heal from the ORN naturally and avoid the other two options. The good news in the meantime is that I have only a low level of pain, so the 3-week wait isn't bad that way.
Terry and I wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving--and as I have in the last few years, will show additional thanks for being a cancer survivor, on top of everything else that's good in my life.
mike
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Hyperbaric Treatments Over -- Finally!
I completed my 40th and final hyperbaric oxygen treatment this past Monday--and none too soon. By the numbers, it took me 12 weeks to get in the 40 dives, with missed days for travel and a head cold. It took about 120 hours from my M-F schedule over those three months.Even with the intrusion on my regular schedule, this series of treatments looked a whole lot easier than they were--all I had to do was get to the hospital around 7 am, hang out in the pressurized tube for two hours and breathe in pure oxygen while watching CNN and Sports Center. The first 20 or so sessions were fairly easy--I got into a routine and just didn't think about much, which made the time go by fast. But, the second 20, and especially the last 10 sessions felt like they were getting a minute or two longer every day, and the two side effects of fatigue and blurred vision really got to me. By around the 30th session, I was in a full-blown struggle, just as I had been two+ years ago with the combined chemo and radiation treatments.
While these treatments were nowhere as difficult physically as those two years ago, they did turn out to be as difficult psychologically. It took me a while to figure out why that was, but I think I have it. Two reasons. Two years ago I was fortunate enough to be able to take a leave from work, to devote 100% of my energy into getting through those treatments, with plenty of recovery time at the end. This time I had to manage the treatments along with a full-time work schedule and other daily-life events, and eventually those 120 hours, fatique, and blurry vision took a toll.
But even more than that, I had started to think I was free and clear from cancer and all of the baggage that came with it two years ago. Not true. While I am cancer-free, I am not free of the lingering and latent effects of the toxic treatments needed to get cancer out of my body. I had forgotten that I have two battles to fight for the rest of my life--one is to keep the Prairie Dogs from invading my body again; the other is against things like osteoradionecrosis that are sure to happen from time to time. And, when they do happen, I'll need to make--and better accept--the necessary adjustments to my life as a cancer survivor.
I will never let my guard down again, and I'll do better to cope with the next cancer-related challenge I face.
Mike
Friday, September 23, 2011
Oral Surgery Completed--Encouraging News
I had the oral surgery today to extract the damaged tooth and do the debrisment (fancy word for scraping) of dead bone tissue. The procedure went well and took only a short time. The hyperbaric treatments seemed to work in healing up all but one ulcer that had a small edge of protruding dead bone. The doctor scraped that away and saw no more dead tissue underneath it--that's the encouraging part. Her opinion is that while my osteoradionecrosis is chronic (because I've had multiple ulcers), it's towards the low end of the ORN severity scale.
She is cautiously optimistic that this could be the extent of it, but made sure I understood that she could make no guaranties. Wait, and be observant was her advice.
So, I'll chalk this up to another one of those things that have and will continue to pop up as side effects from my chemo and radiation treatments two+ years ago. What I've read is that they now consider the time for seeing these side effects at about 5 years, post-treatment. That puts me half the way there.
As always, I'm extremely grateful for being a cancer survivor for this long, and getting back so much of my pre-cancer life, and will stay prepared to deal with whatever comes next in our battle with the Prairie Dogs.
My apologies for not alerting Team Mike about the oral surgery, but we didn't know until yesterday that it was happening today.
I'll try to be more regular with my blog postings in the future, even if it's just to say that "no news is good news."
Mike
She is cautiously optimistic that this could be the extent of it, but made sure I understood that she could make no guaranties. Wait, and be observant was her advice.
So, I'll chalk this up to another one of those things that have and will continue to pop up as side effects from my chemo and radiation treatments two+ years ago. What I've read is that they now consider the time for seeing these side effects at about 5 years, post-treatment. That puts me half the way there.
As always, I'm extremely grateful for being a cancer survivor for this long, and getting back so much of my pre-cancer life, and will stay prepared to deal with whatever comes next in our battle with the Prairie Dogs.
My apologies for not alerting Team Mike about the oral surgery, but we didn't know until yesterday that it was happening today.
I'll try to be more regular with my blog postings in the future, even if it's just to say that "no news is good news."
Mike
Sunday, September 11, 2011
My Secrist 4100-H
Many of you have asked what the hyperbaric chamber looks like, so I thought I'd devote a short post to my Sechrist 4100-H...and what a beauty she is! Her cruising speed is 0 miles per hour, never needs gas-oline (but guzzles pure oxygen), and the on-board air-breathing apparatus is standard equipment. She can achieve 1.25 atmospheres of pressure for days on end. She comes standard with many safety features, such as a clear unbreakable full-length acrylic tube, heavy air-tight doors and state of the art A/C system. Her communications system features a secure, private phone line with a manual back-up system (sign language between me and the doctor or RN).
My Sechrist 4100-H has a personal audio and video tube-entertainment system which features a 24-inch flat screen monitor on an adjustable rail, for optimal distance control. Cable hookup is optional, but highly recommended. The video system is backed up by rear-mounted stereo speakers.
Other optional equipment includes a personalized water bottle (highly recommended), a urination tube, and bed pan (which explains why I never go to Waffle House before taking her "on the road".
The Sechrist 4100-H comes in six signature colors – Diamond White, Sahara Beige, Platinum, Crystal Green, Jade Green and Sechrist Blue (my color, shown above). I have been told that Michael Jackson's custom 4100-H was painted by the guys at American Chopper to look like a Harley-Davidson Road King.
The Sechrist 4100-H has no sticker price--if you have to ask, you can't afford it. The patient in the photo above is a trained professional (do not try this at home), and the depicted doctor is a required additional purchase--at $650 a treatment. Seriously--do the math for 40 treatments.
Obviously, spending too much time in the Sechrist 4100-H makes one prone to silliness, so be sure to have a designated air-breathing companion when you take yours for a daily two-hour cruise around the treatment facility.
My Sechrist 4100-H has a personal audio and video tube-entertainment system which features a 24-inch flat screen monitor on an adjustable rail, for optimal distance control. Cable hookup is optional, but highly recommended. The video system is backed up by rear-mounted stereo speakers.
Other optional equipment includes a personalized water bottle (highly recommended), a urination tube, and bed pan (which explains why I never go to Waffle House before taking her "on the road".
The Sechrist 4100-H comes in six signature colors – Diamond White, Sahara Beige, Platinum, Crystal Green, Jade Green and Sechrist Blue (my color, shown above). I have been told that Michael Jackson's custom 4100-H was painted by the guys at American Chopper to look like a Harley-Davidson Road King.
The Sechrist 4100-H has no sticker price--if you have to ask, you can't afford it. The patient in the photo above is a trained professional (do not try this at home), and the depicted doctor is a required additional purchase--at $650 a treatment. Seriously--do the math for 40 treatments.
Obviously, spending too much time in the Sechrist 4100-H makes one prone to silliness, so be sure to have a designated air-breathing companion when you take yours for a daily two-hour cruise around the treatment facility.
mike
Monday, September 5, 2011
Stuck inside a hyperbaric chamber, with the ORN blues again
So far, I've completed 25 of my 30 pre-surgery hyperbaric oxygen treatments (aka, "dives"). I'll have three more before I leave of Japan this coming Friday, and the last two when I return. Then I have a consult with the oral surgeon, who will assess my progress and have a better idea of how extensive the surgery will be. Then, after the surgery I have 10 more dives, and will get my life back.
I have found a workable strategy for dealing with the daily routine of getting to the hospital and the monotony of the treatments. I just don't think about how intrusive it is on my daily plans, and above all, do not count down the number of dives I have left. It's coping by surrendering--I know that if I start to dwell on it, the time will feel really, really long every day. While the physical demands are nowhere near what I experienced with the chemo+radiation treatments, the psychological aspects of this are very similar. I just do what I need to do, and know that it will end at some point--and I can then get back to my normal weekday patterns.
More later when I know the date and extent of the oral surgery.
Mike
I have found a workable strategy for dealing with the daily routine of getting to the hospital and the monotony of the treatments. I just don't think about how intrusive it is on my daily plans, and above all, do not count down the number of dives I have left. It's coping by surrendering--I know that if I start to dwell on it, the time will feel really, really long every day. While the physical demands are nowhere near what I experienced with the chemo+radiation treatments, the psychological aspects of this are very similar. I just do what I need to do, and know that it will end at some point--and I can then get back to my normal weekday patterns.
More later when I know the date and extent of the oral surgery.
Mike
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Don't Fear The Tube...
It turns out that my biggest challenge in the hyperbaric chamber is not claustrophobia--it's utter boredom. After my original disappointment with needing this treatment I had come to accept it, thinking that I could be totally out of cell phone touch, catch up on some reading, and get to work on a writing project I've put off for months. So, I gathered up my reading glasses and a stack of materials, and arrived at the facility ready to go.
As I got ready to enter the chamber (a long tube with plexiglass walls and a heavy door), I was told that I could not take any of that stuff in with me--not even my wedding band--due to the potential fire hazard in an environment with pressurized oxygen. The first thing out of my mouth was "Now, this officially sucks" but let the RN get on with things. So, I entered the tube with my waterbottle, my urination bottle (just in case), two pillows, and my blanky--sentenced to watch two full hours of repeated stories on CNN. Now, I watch CNN every morning at home, but for about 10 minutes, to get the headline stories that the morning paper might have missed. After that, it's on to Sportscenter, for the important news, like the Braves' score from the night before.
So, my immediate fate is set. Another 20 days of this routine before I go to Japan for a week, then the oral surgery, and then another 15 days or so back in the tube. We are hoping that the end result of this treatment and surgery will be a healthy jaw for many years to come. Knowing that my current condition would only get worse without treatment, and that I'll never give in to those Prairie Dogs--I have already learned a great coping strategy for the boredom of the tube--I just imagine I'm in a department faculty meeting, where I learned a long time ago how to zone out with my eyes open for way more than two hours at a time. Piece of cake, that tube.
I'm just praying that I'll never have to use that urination bottle while inside the tube. At my age, hitting the toilet is a challenge on most days, so, well...you can imagine where this is leading.
mike
As I got ready to enter the chamber (a long tube with plexiglass walls and a heavy door), I was told that I could not take any of that stuff in with me--not even my wedding band--due to the potential fire hazard in an environment with pressurized oxygen. The first thing out of my mouth was "Now, this officially sucks" but let the RN get on with things. So, I entered the tube with my waterbottle, my urination bottle (just in case), two pillows, and my blanky--sentenced to watch two full hours of repeated stories on CNN. Now, I watch CNN every morning at home, but for about 10 minutes, to get the headline stories that the morning paper might have missed. After that, it's on to Sportscenter, for the important news, like the Braves' score from the night before.
So, my immediate fate is set. Another 20 days of this routine before I go to Japan for a week, then the oral surgery, and then another 15 days or so back in the tube. We are hoping that the end result of this treatment and surgery will be a healthy jaw for many years to come. Knowing that my current condition would only get worse without treatment, and that I'll never give in to those Prairie Dogs--I have already learned a great coping strategy for the boredom of the tube--I just imagine I'm in a department faculty meeting, where I learned a long time ago how to zone out with my eyes open for way more than two hours at a time. Piece of cake, that tube.
I'm just praying that I'll never have to use that urination bottle while inside the tube. At my age, hitting the toilet is a challenge on most days, so, well...you can imagine where this is leading.
mike
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Radiation Therapy--The Gift That Keeps on Giving
Can you say "osteoradionecrosis"? What it means is "Bone death from radiation" and is a side effect in about 11% of head/neck cancer patients who get treated with radiation. Well, count me among those 11%'ers. About a year ago I got an ulcer in my mouth that exposed parts of my jaw bone under the skin. That first one went away and the doctors hoped it was a one-time event. Then, about six months ago I started to get them on a regular basis, and it was decided that this condition needed to be treated now, before it got any worse. If not treated it will eventually cause my jaw bone to deteriorate to the point of needing reconstructive surgery.
While this would become a very serious problem if left untreated, at this stage it can be treated with good confidence that these ulcers will heal (but no guarantee that I won't get them in other parts of my jaw). The treatment is a long series of sessions where I'll be in a hyperbaric oxygen tank for 2+ hours at a time, Monday through Friday for about 8 weeks. Not the best of news for someone who is claustrophobic! Can you say "Valium"?
Somewhere around the middle of that time, they will be extracting a tooth that has been compromised beyond repair by the radiation, and also scrape out any dead bone they find. Can you say, "Hurts like a m_______r"?
A CT scan next week will give the doctor an estimate of how much bone death there is, but she won't know for sure until the tooth is extracted and she can poke around and see for herself.
While all of this sounds gruesome, at this time I'm not in much pain and the upcoming treatments and procedures will reduce the chances of the osteoradionecrosis getting to a much more advanced stage. Can you say, "precautionary measures"?
I will admit, and Terry will attest, that I didn't take this news well for the first few days. We both had a very bad deja vu event when we saw the hyperbaric treatment facility--it looked a lot like the dark and dingy radiation treatment facility of two years ago. And, the realization that I have to start every weekday for two months by getting up very early and going to a hospital to lay in a big glass tube for 2 hours, was a bit of a disappointment. We are also disappointed that we had to cancel this coming week's trip to my hometown to see family and friends. Can you say, "pissed off"?
But, my short pity party is over and it's now time just do what I have to do to keep fighting those nasty Prairie Dogs in a different way, starting Monday. Can you say "Game face on again"?
So, for the next 8 weeks, while those of you on the East coast are enjoying breakfast at home, send me some good vibes that the Valium is working and I'm not trying to bust out of the hyperbaric chamber with the hammer I'm going to conceal when I go in there. Can you say, "I hope he's not serious"?
Time will tell.
I'll post again once they have scheduled the mid-point procedure and ask for a Team Mike meeting for extra special Good Vibes.
Mike
While this would become a very serious problem if left untreated, at this stage it can be treated with good confidence that these ulcers will heal (but no guarantee that I won't get them in other parts of my jaw). The treatment is a long series of sessions where I'll be in a hyperbaric oxygen tank for 2+ hours at a time, Monday through Friday for about 8 weeks. Not the best of news for someone who is claustrophobic! Can you say "Valium"?
Somewhere around the middle of that time, they will be extracting a tooth that has been compromised beyond repair by the radiation, and also scrape out any dead bone they find. Can you say, "Hurts like a m_______r"?
A CT scan next week will give the doctor an estimate of how much bone death there is, but she won't know for sure until the tooth is extracted and she can poke around and see for herself.
While all of this sounds gruesome, at this time I'm not in much pain and the upcoming treatments and procedures will reduce the chances of the osteoradionecrosis getting to a much more advanced stage. Can you say, "precautionary measures"?
I will admit, and Terry will attest, that I didn't take this news well for the first few days. We both had a very bad deja vu event when we saw the hyperbaric treatment facility--it looked a lot like the dark and dingy radiation treatment facility of two years ago. And, the realization that I have to start every weekday for two months by getting up very early and going to a hospital to lay in a big glass tube for 2 hours, was a bit of a disappointment. We are also disappointed that we had to cancel this coming week's trip to my hometown to see family and friends. Can you say, "pissed off"?
But, my short pity party is over and it's now time just do what I have to do to keep fighting those nasty Prairie Dogs in a different way, starting Monday. Can you say "Game face on again"?
So, for the next 8 weeks, while those of you on the East coast are enjoying breakfast at home, send me some good vibes that the Valium is working and I'm not trying to bust out of the hyperbaric chamber with the hammer I'm going to conceal when I go in there. Can you say, "I hope he's not serious"?
Time will tell.
I'll post again once they have scheduled the mid-point procedure and ask for a Team Mike meeting for extra special Good Vibes.
Mike
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
"I had a hard run..."
Well, I managed to finish my second Peachtree Road Race after completing cancer treatments in 2009, but barely. It was the hottest starting temperature ever for the race, nearly 80 degrees (and very humid) by the time I crossed the starting line a little after 8 am.. Today's paper reported that 28 runners went to the hospital, and 269 others were treated for heat-related problems at the finish line. I felt a little light-headed after finishing, but that went away a few minutes later with the coldest, best-tasting beer I ever had.
The most significant part of yesterday was that it was a typical Peachtree Race, and an uneventful 4th of July, which tells me that I'm having the best revenge possible against cancer--just getting back to a normal life. Well, at least a new-normal life. I've learned to cope with the lingering effects of chemo and radiation, and understand that I will have some 'maintenance' things to deal with for the rest of my life, but those are easily managed with a little attention to them from time to time.
Even while I celebrate this return to normalcy, I know that I can never say that my battle with cancer is over with for good. But, while the Prairie Dogs are in retreat, I'll live my life as fully as I can, and look forward to another Peachtree 10K in 2012.
A special thanks goes out to Mary Jane Handlan who added a local touch to the Livestrong t-shirt that is the only shirt I'll ever wear for the Peachtree and the ATL half-marathon races again (click on the photo for a close-up). The city of my choice to battle prairie dogs from now on is DECATUR. GEORGIA. Please free to kick Prairie Dogs' ass in your own home town.
mike
The most significant part of yesterday was that it was a typical Peachtree Race, and an uneventful 4th of July, which tells me that I'm having the best revenge possible against cancer--just getting back to a normal life. Well, at least a new-normal life. I've learned to cope with the lingering effects of chemo and radiation, and understand that I will have some 'maintenance' things to deal with for the rest of my life, but those are easily managed with a little attention to them from time to time.
Even while I celebrate this return to normalcy, I know that I can never say that my battle with cancer is over with for good. But, while the Prairie Dogs are in retreat, I'll live my life as fully as I can, and look forward to another Peachtree 10K in 2012.
A special thanks goes out to Mary Jane Handlan who added a local touch to the Livestrong t-shirt that is the only shirt I'll ever wear for the Peachtree and the ATL half-marathon races again (click on the photo for a close-up). The city of my choice to battle prairie dogs from now on is DECATUR. GEORGIA. Please free to kick Prairie Dogs' ass in your own home town.
mike
Saturday, May 7, 2011
The Prairie Dogs Get Romeo
Our beloved cat, Romeo (aka, Romes, Buddy Bud, Big Boy, Special One, and more) was put to rest this morning after a short battle with cancer--in his intestines and stomach. He was almost 13 years old, as best as we and the vets could determine. Terry rescued him from a no-kill shelter about 9 years ago, so his exact age was not known.
What ties us together in this was that he passed away from cancer, and how he gave me so much love and support in the worst times of my own treatment. When I was spending most of every day in bed, Romeo would jump up and keep me company for hours on end. He somehow knew I was hurting and was there to see me through those awful days. He was very much a part of Team Mike.
So, this could be the Prairie Dogs' revenge--picking on my Buddy Bud who could not defend himself from them the way I was able to. Cowardly f**ks.
Two years ago I gave Terry a funky, tall cement yard ornament cat for Christmas. So, after Romeo passed, we brought him home and buried him under the cement cat, with the cat facing the house--so Romeo can keep his eye on us for the rest of our lives. Check out the photo above and send some good vibes to Romeo in Cat Heaven. He was loved very much and will be missed even more.
mike
Update on Mara
Several of you have asked about Mara, so I thought I'd give you an update--but I wish it could be more positive. Mara has been doing daily physical therapy sessions at the Shepherd Center in Atlanta for the last two weeks. Shepherd is considered one of the very best facilities in the world for treating spinal and nervous system disorders and accidents.
Even with that level of care, Mara's progress has tapered off considerably. Just three weeks ago it looked very much like she would be able to attend her high school graduation and even walk to receive her diploma. That seems to now be an impossible dream and it is not likely that she will even be able to attend, as the logistics of transporting her to an event like that are very difficult and risky to her safety.
Please keep up your good vibes for her and her family. It has become a very long and difficult struggle for them in so many ways, and they need all the support they can get.
mike
Even with that level of care, Mara's progress has tapered off considerably. Just three weeks ago it looked very much like she would be able to attend her high school graduation and even walk to receive her diploma. That seems to now be an impossible dream and it is not likely that she will even be able to attend, as the logistics of transporting her to an event like that are very difficult and risky to her safety.
Please keep up your good vibes for her and her family. It has become a very long and difficult struggle for them in so many ways, and they need all the support they can get.
mike
Monday, April 11, 2011
Good News for Mike and Mara
Mike got some unexpected good news during an appointment with his lead oncologist last week. We were thinking that Dr. Henderson would be scheduling the next scan in about two months, but Dr. Henderson liked Mike's progress so much that he doesn't see a need for the next scan until this coming December! And, Dr. Henderson has set Mike's "remission clock" at two years, so we did a little (actually, too much) celebrating for that anniversary. There is no exact date when that clock started, but they generally consider sometime around the middle of treatment, if the ensuing scans are clean.
And, we have great news to report on our niece, Mara. After many weeks of slow or no progress (and several serious setbacks) she is now fully on the road to recovery. Her progress in the last 2-3 weeks has been nothing short of miraculous. She is off the ventilator during the day, and uses it only as a precaution at night. While she is still very weak, she has almost full range of movement with her arms and legs, and even walked a few steps this past weekend. She had been practicing her walk for about a week and surprised her father by walking with him watching--unknown to him that she had made that much progress. She is scheduled to leave the hospital in April 21st, over three months after her surgery.
She still has a long ways to go, and there is no way to know how much she will recover--but she is light years ahead of where she was just a couple of weeks ago, and the sky's the limit for her. She got great news that she has been accepted into three universities, with offers of partial track scholarships. After many weeks of thinking there would be no way for her to graduate high school this semester, or even attend the ceremony, it looks like both things will happen. It will be a very emotional scene when she walks up the stage to get her diploma.
Several of you have been asking about Mara, so we know that Team Mike has been hard at work with your Good Vibes for her. Much appreciated, by us and Mara's family.
Mike and Terry
And, we have great news to report on our niece, Mara. After many weeks of slow or no progress (and several serious setbacks) she is now fully on the road to recovery. Her progress in the last 2-3 weeks has been nothing short of miraculous. She is off the ventilator during the day, and uses it only as a precaution at night. While she is still very weak, she has almost full range of movement with her arms and legs, and even walked a few steps this past weekend. She had been practicing her walk for about a week and surprised her father by walking with him watching--unknown to him that she had made that much progress. She is scheduled to leave the hospital in April 21st, over three months after her surgery.
She still has a long ways to go, and there is no way to know how much she will recover--but she is light years ahead of where she was just a couple of weeks ago, and the sky's the limit for her. She got great news that she has been accepted into three universities, with offers of partial track scholarships. After many weeks of thinking there would be no way for her to graduate high school this semester, or even attend the ceremony, it looks like both things will happen. It will be a very emotional scene when she walks up the stage to get her diploma.
Several of you have been asking about Mara, so we know that Team Mike has been hard at work with your Good Vibes for her. Much appreciated, by us and Mara's family.
Mike and Terry
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
April update on Mara, and Mike
Since the last post in late February, Mara's condition turned much for the worse for several weeks, until she started to make some positive progress. And that progress was very small, with many setbacks. Then, about 10 days ago she started to take larger steps in the right direction and recently has made huge gains. She's now off the ventilator while she is awake, has a good range of movement with her arms and legs, and speaks very clearly. She is scheduled to be released from the hospital around April 21st. She still has a long way to go, but her improvement is now steady and very noticeable every time we see her 3 or 4 days apart.
As for me, no news continues to be good news--so I've not needed to post to the blog much in the last several months. I have some of the life-long side effects from the radiation and chemo, but nothing that can't be handled or should cause worry. My next scan will be in about two months.
I was slack with my running over the winter, but will get back to it soon, now that I know I'll be running in the Peachtree 10K in July.
Over the summer I plan to work on a book that tells the story of my cancer treatments and recovery. I showed the blog to a consultant with the American Cancer Society and he thought that would make a great source for the book--he loved the Prairie Dog stuff! Of course, a big part of the book will be about all the love and support we got from Team Mike, and that will be the major theme for the book. More on this as it progresses and I can find the time this summer to do the writing.
mike
As for me, no news continues to be good news--so I've not needed to post to the blog much in the last several months. I have some of the life-long side effects from the radiation and chemo, but nothing that can't be handled or should cause worry. My next scan will be in about two months.
I was slack with my running over the winter, but will get back to it soon, now that I know I'll be running in the Peachtree 10K in July.
Over the summer I plan to work on a book that tells the story of my cancer treatments and recovery. I showed the blog to a consultant with the American Cancer Society and he thought that would make a great source for the book--he loved the Prairie Dog stuff! Of course, a big part of the book will be about all the love and support we got from Team Mike, and that will be the major theme for the book. More on this as it progresses and I can find the time this summer to do the writing.
mike
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Update on Mara
Some of you have asked about Mara so I thought it's time for an update. Her story has taken an incredible turn since coming out of brain surgery over three weeks ago. In terms of the "big question" her tumor was successfully removed and it was benign, but there is much more to tell.
Mara dis not recover from the surgery at an acceptable rate, and caught pneumonia and some infections a few days after the surgery. Even a week later she was not coming around, and was so weak that she could not even breathe on her own. A few days after that she was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, which is a condition that cause nerve tissue to degenerate, so that it can't transmit the electrical impulses needed to make muscles move--so her chest muscles were not able to make her lungs go in and out for breathing. PN does not affect the central nervous system, so there is no risk to her brain, heart, and other vital organs.
The doctors are thinking that the PN was caused by rare interactions between the medications and steriods she was taking post-surgery. PN occurs in only 1 or 2 out of every 100,000 surgeries in this country!
The primary treatment for now are plasma filterings that clean out tainted platelets and put in healthy ones, to help the nerve tissue start to regenerate. So far Mara is showing signs of responding to the treatments, but it's much too early to tell how effective they really are.
Even though the doctors are confident that she can recover, it could take as long as 12 months or more.
She had a trach tube inserted last week that allows her to get off the ventilator and be a bit more mobile--which is needed to get her muscle strength back. But, she's still in the ICU and could be there for another week or so. Once she leaves ICU, she's looking at about 8 weeks of intense physical therapy in the same hospital. After that, she advances to out-patient therapy for the forseeable future.
So, while the prognosis is positive, she faces a long, hard road to whatever recovery she'll reach. Please keep Mara and her family in your thoughts--they still need lots of support to get through this tragic turn of events.
mike
Mara dis not recover from the surgery at an acceptable rate, and caught pneumonia and some infections a few days after the surgery. Even a week later she was not coming around, and was so weak that she could not even breathe on her own. A few days after that she was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, which is a condition that cause nerve tissue to degenerate, so that it can't transmit the electrical impulses needed to make muscles move--so her chest muscles were not able to make her lungs go in and out for breathing. PN does not affect the central nervous system, so there is no risk to her brain, heart, and other vital organs.
The doctors are thinking that the PN was caused by rare interactions between the medications and steriods she was taking post-surgery. PN occurs in only 1 or 2 out of every 100,000 surgeries in this country!
The primary treatment for now are plasma filterings that clean out tainted platelets and put in healthy ones, to help the nerve tissue start to regenerate. So far Mara is showing signs of responding to the treatments, but it's much too early to tell how effective they really are.
Even though the doctors are confident that she can recover, it could take as long as 12 months or more.
She had a trach tube inserted last week that allows her to get off the ventilator and be a bit more mobile--which is needed to get her muscle strength back. But, she's still in the ICU and could be there for another week or so. Once she leaves ICU, she's looking at about 8 weeks of intense physical therapy in the same hospital. After that, she advances to out-patient therapy for the forseeable future.
So, while the prognosis is positive, she faces a long, hard road to whatever recovery she'll reach. Please keep Mara and her family in your thoughts--they still need lots of support to get through this tragic turn of events.
mike
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Team Mara Still on Call
It has been a very dramatic week since Mara's surgery, and she is still far from being out of the woods. She is still in ICU, and still not able to breathe on her own. She has had a series of complications, ranging from pneumonia to air pockets that formed outside of her lungs--bringing great risks of embolisms. She is even more heavily sedated to keep her from moving and dislodging an air bubble into her system.
Some good news to report is that her tumor was benign, so that large question has been answered in her favor.
Please keep Mara and her family in your thoughts and prayers. They all have been very brave through this, but they really need to see Mara make a turn toward a full recovery so they can start to see a light at the end of this very dark tunnel.
mike
Some good news to report is that her tumor was benign, so that large question has been answered in her favor.
Please keep Mara and her family in your thoughts and prayers. They all have been very brave through this, but they really need to see Mara make a turn toward a full recovery so they can start to see a light at the end of this very dark tunnel.
mike
Friday, January 28, 2011
Mara is Hanging in There
My niece, Mara, underwent 10 hours of brain surgery on Wednesday. The good news is that they still think the tumor is not cancerous, but we don't have a confirmation on that yet. They were able to extricate the entire tumor, but had to do that in sections.
She has been in ICU since coming out of surgery, and is on a breathing tube because the pain meds are so strong that she can't respirate on her own. They hope to take the breathing tube out tomorrow.
She is awake for only short periods of time but seems to know who is around her when she does--and acknowledges that she is in a lot of pain. She will probably be in the hospital for another 2-3 weeks.
The doctors are encouraged by her early progress, but please keep sending her your good vibes until we know she is totally out of the woods.
This is one brave kid. Like I did, she needs to feel that people are helping to pull her through.
mike
She has been in ICU since coming out of surgery, and is on a breathing tube because the pain meds are so strong that she can't respirate on her own. They hope to take the breathing tube out tomorrow.
She is awake for only short periods of time but seems to know who is around her when she does--and acknowledges that she is in a lot of pain. She will probably be in the hospital for another 2-3 weeks.
The doctors are encouraged by her early progress, but please keep sending her your good vibes until we know she is totally out of the woods.
This is one brave kid. Like I did, she needs to feel that people are helping to pull her through.
mike
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Good Vibes Needed for Mara on January 26
On very short notice, we are asking Team Mike to send out your strongest good vibes tomorrow to our 18-year old niece, Mara Canning. After a migraine headache that started on Saturday, a MRI on Monday showed that she has a tumor on the back of her brain, where the brain stem meets her skull. The tumor is about the size of a ping pong ball.
The encouraging news at this time is that the doctors are fairly sure that the rumor is not cancerous, but they won't know without conducting surgery. The surgery will last anywhere from 8-10 hours, in an attempt to extract the tumor without doing damage to the vital nerves it is attached to.
The prognosis is upbeat going into the surgery--but that could all change if the tumor turns out to be cancerous, and/or it can't be totally extracted.
You should also know that Mara is an all-state runner in the 800-meter event. She was training hard for her upcoming senior season, and has been recruited by several colleges and universities. She had to pass up an official visit this past weekend, due to the onset of the migraine that started this series of events.
While secondary to her immediate medical needs, the surgery and necessary recovery time will cause Mara to miss her last track season, and not let her pursue her goal to be a State Champion--something that was well within her reach.
We visited Mara and her parents, Marie and John, this evening at Scottish Rite Children's Hospital, one of the very best places in the country for this kind of surgery. Mara's kid sister, Madison, was on her way to the hospital, and understandably worried for Mara. Despite their obvious worry, they are optimistic about the outcome and looking ahead to getting back on schedule for Mara to graduate from high school in May. Mara showed incredible strength and maturity during our visit--well beyond what you'd expect from an 18-year old kid whose biggest worry last week was whether her I-Phone's text function was working properly.
So, we need Team Mike to become Team Mara until she is safe and sound and her family is on the other side of this. We'll provide an update as soon as we have one.
mike and terry
The encouraging news at this time is that the doctors are fairly sure that the rumor is not cancerous, but they won't know without conducting surgery. The surgery will last anywhere from 8-10 hours, in an attempt to extract the tumor without doing damage to the vital nerves it is attached to.
The prognosis is upbeat going into the surgery--but that could all change if the tumor turns out to be cancerous, and/or it can't be totally extracted.
You should also know that Mara is an all-state runner in the 800-meter event. She was training hard for her upcoming senior season, and has been recruited by several colleges and universities. She had to pass up an official visit this past weekend, due to the onset of the migraine that started this series of events.
While secondary to her immediate medical needs, the surgery and necessary recovery time will cause Mara to miss her last track season, and not let her pursue her goal to be a State Champion--something that was well within her reach.
We visited Mara and her parents, Marie and John, this evening at Scottish Rite Children's Hospital, one of the very best places in the country for this kind of surgery. Mara's kid sister, Madison, was on her way to the hospital, and understandably worried for Mara. Despite their obvious worry, they are optimistic about the outcome and looking ahead to getting back on schedule for Mara to graduate from high school in May. Mara showed incredible strength and maturity during our visit--well beyond what you'd expect from an 18-year old kid whose biggest worry last week was whether her I-Phone's text function was working properly.
So, we need Team Mike to become Team Mara until she is safe and sound and her family is on the other side of this. We'll provide an update as soon as we have one.
mike and terry
Monday, January 17, 2011
"Fast Eddie" Krieger
Terry and I were in Florida on January 5th when I got a call from Mike Hart, a childhood and life-long friend who still lives in my hometown. Mike told me that another friend of ours, Eddie Kreiger, was very sick--the suspicion was cancer, but no one had heard if a terminal diagnosis had been made. Eddie passed away the very next day, in a hospital near Buffalo, NY. Due to the timing, and the ice storm that hit Atlanta the next weekend, I was not able to attend the service, which had a large turnout--attributable to Eddie's knack for making friends fast and keeping them forever.
I was able to reach another mutual friend, Steve Slavin, who had been in close contact with Eddie over the years. Steve told me that Eddie was diagnosed with bone cancer in November of 2010 and had experienced some good days and bad days along the way. Steve saw Eddie just a few days before his passing, and was told that Eddie was doing well enough to be discharged soon. That never happened, and Steve was shocked to learn that Eddie never got to go home again.
Eddie was one of those rare guys who could be described as a 'likable rascal' who got himself and many of his buddies into a fair amount of mostly innocent trouble during our grade school and high school years. For me, that extended into our college years, as Eddie and I both attended college in Boston. More on that later.
Eddie liked to drive fast cars, even before he had a driving license! I remember well the summer that we were hired by his father to paint the family house, and when both of his parents were gone and his dad's souped-up Chevy was left there, we would take it for joy rides around their neighborhood--and sometimes a bit farther. Eddie would smile and rationalize that we needed to do this because his father drove really slow, and the car needed to be driven fast from time to time to clear out the exhaust system. That worked for me. I was probably 14 and Eddie was 13.
I went to a Catholic high school in another town a short distance away. Eddie was a year behind me, and started high school in Salamanca. It didn't take long for him to wear out his welcome there, and his parents thought the he could be "rehab'd" by going to a private school--if he could get in with his bad grades and bad-boy reputation. I made a case for him with the principal at Walsh, and they let him in. Eddie did well at Walsh, getting decent grades and playing football, blocking on the offensive line as I played quarterback behind him. What the good nuns and priests didn't know was that Eddie (and his big gang of buddies) was still up to his juvenile tricks--but had just learned to be better at not getting caught (as much).
After I graduated high school I went off to Tufts in Boston, and two years later, Eddie started at a 2-year school near Fenway park. Eddie came to Tufts football games and parties at my fraternity house, so I saw him a lot. He was liked by the fraternity brothers so much that they wanted to make him a member of the fraternity, but the rules didn't allow that--so we made him an "unofficial honorary member." It was at a "mixer" (boy, does that give away my age) at my fraternity house that he met Barb--who soon became his girlfriend, and then his wife. She was with him when he passed away.
Sometime after college I fell out of touch with Eddie and Barb for many years. I'd ask people in Salamanca about them, but no one else knew much about them either. That is, until about 10 years ago when I asked someone again, and was told that Eddie and Barb were back living in Salamanca. I got in touch with them and visited them for a short time--and learned that Eddie had served 20+ years in the military and had retired to live in Salamanca. Barb worked at a pharmacy near their house. They had two adult kids who both were serving in the military themselves.
A party guy for many years, Eddie had stopped drinking and started to attend church regularly. He and Barb both rode Harleys, and I heard recently that they would go on rides with their church pastor. The last time I saw Eddie, he and Barb were both very happy living a quiet life in our small home town--very different from the "Fast Eddie" I had known since grade school, but all of the changes he made had brought him much peace and happiness, and it showed.
This past August Terry and I were back in Salamanca and stopped at Barb and Eddie's house to say hello. They had not seen me since I was sick, so I was excited to let them see the "new me" and to spend some time with them. But, it was a nice summer day, and most likely they were out riding their motorcycles, so we didn't get to see them. I left a note that we had missed them, and told them "See you next summer around this same time."
I now wish we had more time to come back later that day or the next day, but I just assumed that I'd see them again in a year--and would call ahead to make sure they were around.
Steve Slavin put it best in my conversation with him, saying "If you can't like a guy like Eddie, you need to take a long look at yourself in the mirror." I couldn't agree more.
Mike
I was able to reach another mutual friend, Steve Slavin, who had been in close contact with Eddie over the years. Steve told me that Eddie was diagnosed with bone cancer in November of 2010 and had experienced some good days and bad days along the way. Steve saw Eddie just a few days before his passing, and was told that Eddie was doing well enough to be discharged soon. That never happened, and Steve was shocked to learn that Eddie never got to go home again.
Eddie was one of those rare guys who could be described as a 'likable rascal' who got himself and many of his buddies into a fair amount of mostly innocent trouble during our grade school and high school years. For me, that extended into our college years, as Eddie and I both attended college in Boston. More on that later.
Eddie liked to drive fast cars, even before he had a driving license! I remember well the summer that we were hired by his father to paint the family house, and when both of his parents were gone and his dad's souped-up Chevy was left there, we would take it for joy rides around their neighborhood--and sometimes a bit farther. Eddie would smile and rationalize that we needed to do this because his father drove really slow, and the car needed to be driven fast from time to time to clear out the exhaust system. That worked for me. I was probably 14 and Eddie was 13.
I went to a Catholic high school in another town a short distance away. Eddie was a year behind me, and started high school in Salamanca. It didn't take long for him to wear out his welcome there, and his parents thought the he could be "rehab'd" by going to a private school--if he could get in with his bad grades and bad-boy reputation. I made a case for him with the principal at Walsh, and they let him in. Eddie did well at Walsh, getting decent grades and playing football, blocking on the offensive line as I played quarterback behind him. What the good nuns and priests didn't know was that Eddie (and his big gang of buddies) was still up to his juvenile tricks--but had just learned to be better at not getting caught (as much).
After I graduated high school I went off to Tufts in Boston, and two years later, Eddie started at a 2-year school near Fenway park. Eddie came to Tufts football games and parties at my fraternity house, so I saw him a lot. He was liked by the fraternity brothers so much that they wanted to make him a member of the fraternity, but the rules didn't allow that--so we made him an "unofficial honorary member." It was at a "mixer" (boy, does that give away my age) at my fraternity house that he met Barb--who soon became his girlfriend, and then his wife. She was with him when he passed away.
Sometime after college I fell out of touch with Eddie and Barb for many years. I'd ask people in Salamanca about them, but no one else knew much about them either. That is, until about 10 years ago when I asked someone again, and was told that Eddie and Barb were back living in Salamanca. I got in touch with them and visited them for a short time--and learned that Eddie had served 20+ years in the military and had retired to live in Salamanca. Barb worked at a pharmacy near their house. They had two adult kids who both were serving in the military themselves.
A party guy for many years, Eddie had stopped drinking and started to attend church regularly. He and Barb both rode Harleys, and I heard recently that they would go on rides with their church pastor. The last time I saw Eddie, he and Barb were both very happy living a quiet life in our small home town--very different from the "Fast Eddie" I had known since grade school, but all of the changes he made had brought him much peace and happiness, and it showed.
This past August Terry and I were back in Salamanca and stopped at Barb and Eddie's house to say hello. They had not seen me since I was sick, so I was excited to let them see the "new me" and to spend some time with them. But, it was a nice summer day, and most likely they were out riding their motorcycles, so we didn't get to see them. I left a note that we had missed them, and told them "See you next summer around this same time."
I now wish we had more time to come back later that day or the next day, but I just assumed that I'd see them again in a year--and would call ahead to make sure they were around.
Steve Slavin put it best in my conversation with him, saying "If you can't like a guy like Eddie, you need to take a long look at yourself in the mirror." I couldn't agree more.
Mike
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