Update on my warrior

First of all, let me apologize for not updating everyone until now. Life has been a whirlwind. Let me try to catch you up. I’ll try to make it brief (Yeah, right. You know me better than that).

My parents came to visit in April. About a week afterwards, Dad started having problems walking. He went from using a cane to a walker to a wheelchair. We attributed this to the cancer that is in his bones; primarily his right hip.

On June 1, Dad started chemo again. But this time, he only got halfway through and his legs buckled under him. He was rushed to the ER, transferred to Fairfax Hospital Neurology and diagnosed with a subdural hematoma on his left frontal lobe. Almost instantly after surgery, he got the strength and movement back in his legs. By the grace of God, my dad was saved yet again… by the same man who saved my mom from an intracerebral brain hemorrhage years prior.  Moral of the story – Dr. Vyas – best neurosurgeon ever. Period.

Dad would have five more chemo treatments with the last one being September 14.  The end of September, Dad’s right foot/ankle swelled up an extreme amount. Diagnosis: DVT of the entire right leg – from hip to ankle. An IVC filter was put in place to stop the blood clot from moving to his heart and lungs which would have inevitably killed him.  Again, by the grace of God, my father’s life was spared.  However, he would continue to have problems with this leg because the DVT is still there and it cannot be treated with blood thinners because of a potential small brain bleed.

At this point, I was determined that he needed a break from chemo. On top of everything else, he was getting weaker, completely fatigued, his red blood cell count was out of whack and all of this was because chemo was wreaking havoc on his body. His body needed a break. So we decided to skip the chemo treatment scheduled for October 5. We would take things as they come and see if we wanted to continue on October 26. Personally, I had no intention of him ever taking chemo again and made my thoughts very clear.  However, it would be his ultimate decision.

The first week in October, his labs came back and his PSA had risen to 90.  Not only was chemo destroying his body but it had also stopped doing its job now. It appeared that chemo was no longer working. By this time, Dad’s pain had also started to resurface – in his right hip – where it always does when the PSA rises and, inevitably, the current treatment stops working. I have been fighting this battle with my dad for 21 years and know the signs. He also had a huge lump on this left frontal lobe of his head and recurring headaches and major swelling.

Fast forward to the October 25 (the day before chemo was supposed to restart) oncologist appointment. (When I lived in VA, I went to every appointment. Since moving to NC, I am on the phone during every appointment.) Dad was of the thinking that chemo would stop his pain because it had in the past and he wanted to restart. I was of the opinion that chemo has almost destroyed my father, it isn’t working anymore and I’ll put up a good fight to NOT start chemo again. Dad had been seeing a pain management doctor for a month or so and he had helped with this neuropathy when no other drugs had, so I was determined we would ask him what our options were instead of pumping more poison into his veins.

We didn’t have to fight over chemo because the oncologist referred us to a radiation oncologist (who we saw many years ago) to see if she could possibly radiate the skull and help with the pain. Meanwhile, Dad’s pain got worse and oxycodone every 3 hours wasn’t helping. The pain doctor prescribed him 12-hour long lasting morphine instead. Dad still had to take oxy at the same time. After a week, we increased the morphine and now he is sleeping through the night but also sleeping the majority of his waking hours also.  We’re caught between a rock and a hard place now – does he sleep all the time and not have pain or is he awake and alert and in horrible pain? Yeah, you guess which one we chose. Unfortunately, what comes along with that is confusion and hallucinating behavior.  He’s barely eating and drinking and he’s using a walker to get around. It takes everything out of him to basically breathe at this point. In 21 years of fighting this bitch of a disease, I have never seen or heard my dad complain until the past two years. From day one, his fear was that he’d have to go on chemo. My fear was that the cancer would spread to the bone. Both of our fears came true.

Today, my dad starts radiation on his hip and on his skull. This is purely for pain management. We don’t know if it will work. It may cause additional pain. It will definitely cause weakness. But it is the only shot we have left of reducing his pain without increasing his mind altering, quality-of-life -depriving pain meds. The cancer is continuing to grow and there are no options left to stop it. We knew two years ago that when the cancer metastasized to the bone that chemo was the only option left, it would eventually stop working and then it would be about pain management. We’re now at that point.

So, we are doing the best we can at relieving his pain. If radiation doesn’t help or makes him feel worse, then we will stop. If he can tolerate radiation, then we will keep going as long as he can tolerate it up to the 10^th day of treatment on November 29.  I pray radiation helps ease his pain so that we can reduce the morphine and my mom and I can get “my dad” back even if just for a little while. Radiation will not work for ever. The cancer will continue to grow. We just have to take one day at a time, keep praying and love him the best way we know how.

My father has fought prostate cancer like a warrior. Each time it returned, he attacked it with a vengeance and he beat it down. After 21 years, his body is feeling the effects of that battle and it is obviously wearing down. But I know, even if only glimpses of my dad show up right now, that the heart and spirit of that warrior is still there and still fighting.


He never gave up and I will never give up on him.
It is MY turn to fight now and I will never stop.
It’s not over til GOD says it’s over!

 

"I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't...
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, I know the hurt
Would all go away if You'd just say the word
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone."
-Mercy Me

We Won't Be Shaken!

On June 1, 1949, a baby boy was born. Twenty-four years later, on September 15, 1973, that same young man became a dad to a baby girl who would grow to become one of his best friends. On June 1, 1996, he celebrated his 47th birthday with his beautiful wife and daughter by his side. Later that same month, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. On June 1, 2017, as he celebrates his 68th birthday, that little girl’s hero will also start chemo again and begin the journey of kicking cancer’s ass for the sixth time!

It’s been 21 years since my dad’s initial prostate cancer diagnosis. Each time this wretched disease recurred, my dad has fought it with a vengeance. The fifth recurrence proved to be the toughest one yet when the cancer spread to the bone and effects of chemo ravaged his body. However, he has proved that anything is possible with the strength of a warrior, the support of so many friends and most of all, his undying faith in our almighty God.

It is now with his sixth recurrence, that I am calling on all of you - Denny’s Shotgun Riders - to help us fight this bastard of a disease once again!

You’ve got this, Dad, and as always, WE have got you!

We Won’t be Shaken - Building 429

This world has nothing for me. This life is not my own. I know you go before me and I am not alone. The mountain rises higher. The way seems so unclear. But I know that you go with me so I will never fear. I will trust in you.

Whatever will come our way, through fire or pouring rain. No, we won’t be shaken. Whatever tomorrow brings, together we’ll rise and sing that we won’t be shaken. No, we won’t be shaken.

You know my every longing. You’ve heard my every prayer. You’ve held me in my weakness ‘cause you are always there. So, I’ll stand in full surrender. It’s your way and not my own. My mind is set on nothing less than you and you alone. I will not be moved.

Whatever will come our way, through fire or pouring rain. No, we won’t be shaken. Whatever tomorrow brings, together we’ll rise and sing that we won’t be shaken.

No, we won’t be shaken.

WE WON’T BE SHAKEN!

We were made to be courageous

This time last year I was at the annual ZERO Prostate Cancer Summit for the first time. It was an experience I will always cherish. I felt as if I was part of something bigger than myself and truly helping to make a difference. I became bonded even closer to my ZERO family and was fortunate to storm Capitol Hill with the Nikituk family advocating before Congress for prostate cancer funding (but really so much more than that!)

Yesterday, I saw numerous photos posted by the Nikituk ladies on Facebook from the Summit. It brought every emotion back as if I was there yet again. I, unfortunately, could not attend this year for numerous reasons but my heart and spirit are right there fighting with them. This morning, the VP of Marketing and Communications for ZERO emailed me a photo of the year's Summit brochure.

To my surprise and delight, right there in the brochure is the picture of the Nikituks and myself with Representative Meadows, a Republican from North Carolina from last year's summit. While we were scheduled to meet with aides from Virginia (our home state) offices, it was fate that brought us to Representative Meadows. While he gave us more attention than any other representative throughout the day he was honest and told us he would not be able to sign on to our wants. He did tell us he would talk to another member and get her to sign on though.

Months later when the final signatures were released, Representative Meadows not only kept his word with getting Barbara Comstock to sign but HE signed as well! There was nothing better than that feeling of accomplishment! Knowing that I would soon be living in the state he represents made me even prouder.

Tonight, as I'm sitting in my living room looking out at the ocean, I am thinking of the Nikituks as they are getting ready for the closing Summit reception. The people I met, the networking done, the stories shared and the advice and support received for Dad last year remains unmatched.  So much has changed in the lives of these men who are battling prostate cancer.  I know for a fact so much has changed in a matter of a year for my dad and his continuous battle.

One thing that has not changed though is my passion for raising awareness for prostate cancer and for fighting to put an end to this disease. Every man is at risk - it doesn't matter your age, your lifestyle or your background. The sheer fact that you are a male means that you can be diagnosed with prostate cancer.

It is now that I plead with each of you to please take a moment of your time and reach into your pockets to make a donation to help us raise awareness and put an end to this disease that has been attacking my father and his quality of life for going on 21 years now. Your donation DOES make a difference to so many - my dad is proof.

http://support.zerocancer.org/site/TR/RunWalk/RunWalk17?px=1102458&pg=personal&fr_id=1271

To those who stormed Capitol Hill today and who are now celebrating their hard work and remembering and honoring those men who are survivors or who have been viciously taken by this disease,, I thank you. I am sorry I'm not with you in person but I thank you for being courageous. Not only are the prostate cancer survivors courageous in the battle of their disease but WE are courageous in our fight to make sure they are never alone.

We were made to be courageous
We were made to lead the way
We could be the generation
That finally breaks the chains
We were made to be courageous

We were warriors on the front lines
Standing, unafraid
But now we're watchers on the sidelines
While our families slip away

Where are you, men of courage?
You were made for so much more
Let the pounding of our hearts cry
We will serve the Lord

We were made to be courageous
And we're taking back the fight
We were made to be courageous
And it starts with us tonight.

   - Casting Crowns

It's that time of year again....

Well, I bet ya'll thought I fell off the face of the earth, huh? Nonsense! I've just been taking a much-needed break and Dad has been doing fantastic so not much to rant about for a while. For those of you who don't know, Labor Day weekend 2016, I gave up my 20-year Northern Virginia local government career and almost 43 years of living in the Old Dominion for a slower-paced, laid back, life at the beach in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina! It's been four months now living in the Outer Banks and while it's been somewhat of an emotional roller coaster, it's still very surreal and I'm finally starting to settle down with the man of my dreams. I started working with Dare County government EMS this month and have 10 years to go before I can collect my full VA retirement. So for now, I'm going "back to basics" in North Carolina where I get paid less but I also have much less responsibility, stress and headaches! No, I'm not saving lives but I'm doing my best to make the lives of those who DO save lives a little more organized and efficient.

Enough about me though because, as I've always said, this passion of mine has never been about me. It's always been about Dad and it will continue to be about Dad. Since I last blogged, Dad has been continually improving and he and Mom have even visited me and Jason here in the OBX three times. Dad got to go fishing, golfing, walk on the beach and eat real seafood for the first time again in two years! Simple pleasures are appreciated so much more when you don't think you'll ever experience them again.

During my four-month hiatus without a job and living on this little sandbar of mine, I had more than enough time to think and think and then think some more. I came to the conclusion that after two years of extremely successful and almost miraculous fundraising events, I have decided to take a step back. What most of you do not know is the amount of literal blood, sweat and tears that I put into each one of those Denny's Shotgun Riders April fundraisers. It was worth every single second but my body took a beating after both of them and most harshly after the 2016 one. In fact, there are still residual effects that I continue to manage with the support of doctors two hours away. Of course, none of that compares to the nightmares and struggles of my father and other prostate cancer warriors. However, part of the reason for moving to the Outer Banks was to get a hold of my life before it got any more out of control and take a moment to breathe. Life is too short. Lick the spoon!

So, with that said, I will not be holding my annual fundraiser this year. Denny's Shotgun Riders will also not be present as a team at the June 18 Father's Day DC ZERO Run/Walk this year. That does NOT mean I am stepping away from my fight to bring awareness to prostate cancer and putting an end to this wretched disease though. It just means I'm doing it in a different way and I am still asking for and depending on your support. Don't worry, I'm still bat shit passionate!

This year, my family and I will be members of Team Nikituk and are raising money to still support the amazing work of ZERO but through these fabulous ladies. Momma Nikituk and her daughters, Tara and Meg, have been tirelessly fighting as part of ZERO for the last 10 years when they lost their husband/father, Paul, to prostate cancer 14 months after he was diagnosed. These ladies are some of the strongest, determined and dedicated women I have ever met and although I didn't get the pleasure of meeting Paul, I feel his presence when I am around them and know without a doubt how proud he is of them.

You may recall my mentioning of how honored I was to stand next to them at both of the ZERO races that I attended and storming Capitol Hill with them in February 2016. As we have proven year after year, this isn't a competition on who can raise the most money. It isn't about your name at the top of the fundraiser list or the little award that you get on race day. It's about bringing awareness to this disease who took Paul away from his family and who has tried for almost 21 years to take my father away from me and my mom.  The Nikituks and I continue to support each other and help raise each other up.

I know of no better way to carry on the work of Denny's Shotgun Riders this year than to join Team Nikituk. While they will take the reigns, I'll keep poking, prodding, reminding and begging all of you to donate again this year from the OBX! If you are in the DMV and want to join Team Nikituk and walk/run on Father's Day, please do so! At the least, I implore you to please donate this year and help us continue to do all we can to put an end to prostate cancer. No donation is too big or too small.

Please click the link below to make a donation online through my personal page to Team Nikituk. 
http://zero.convio.net/site/TR/RunWalk/RunWalk17?px=1102458&pg=personal&fr_id=1271

You can still make your donation in honor my dad as you would if I was leading his team this year; it will just be as a member of Team Nikituk.  I know that the Nikituk ladies plan to hold various fundraisers at restaurants as they did last year and as soon as those are nailed down, I'll be sure to let you know. You may even see a random auction item here or there from me too!

Thank you again for all of your past support and I know we can count on you again this year! Meanwhile, I'll keep walking around the OBX sporting my ZERO attire spreading the word about how important PSA tests are and striving for that one number - ZERO!

Faces of prostate cancer - the men for whom I run...

Prostate cancer is the second leading death of cancer among men. 240,000 men are diagnosed with prostate cancer each year and 30,000 others lose their lives. Odds are that you know someone who has had prostate cancer, is battling the disease right now or has unfortunately succumbed to the disease. If you haven't been touched by prostate cancer, congratulations, but odds are, unfortunately, you WILL know someone in your lifetime. 


Having a 20-year prostate cancer survivor as my father, I know more about this disease than I ever would have imagined. I am by no means an expert, but I know what works and doesn't work in Dad's case and I have been and always will be his advocate.


Obviously, the reason why I am involved with ZERO, why I beg for money and why I raise awareness is for my dad. But it is also for many other men in my life or in my friends' lives. This Sunday, when I race at the ZERO 2016 Prostate Cancer Run/Walk it will be first and foremost to honor my dad but also to honor or memorialize these men as well:
Willie L. Sitton, “Poppy”, “Uncle Bill”

Poppy is the father of my dear friend, Gloria, and my "South Carolina Daddy". The first time I met him, we instantly connected and I knew this was a genuine and special man with which I was conversing - the epitome of a downhome, traditional, Southern gentleman.

In November 2014, at the age of 81, Poppy was diagnosed with prostate cancer.  He was diagnosed during a routine checkup in which his PSA had risen significantly since his prior checkup.  An MRI was then conducted and cancer was confirmed. The tumor was so small that Poppy's doctor recommended intense radiation for a month and a half instead of surgery, which at his age would have been more dangerous than the cancer itself. After deciding to take prostate cancer head on, I am proud to say that on May 19, 2015, Poppy had his last radiation treatment and rang the bell at the finish line! Poppy is a perfect example of how routine checkups are important and early detection is key!  He is continuing with hormone therapy and is on medicine for nausea and another to relax the prostate area. Poppy is an example of how we should never give up!

"The race is not a sprint. It's a marathon! Keep going!"
Farrell Thomas

In 2013, Farrell, Gloria's cousin by marriage and part of my South Carolina family, was diagnosed at the young age of 42 with a PSA of 5. (For a point of reference, my dad was diagnosed at the age of 47 with a PSA of 26.)  Farrell's doctor told him he had not seen many men as young as he diagnosed with prostate cancer.  Farrell had robotic surgery to remove the prostate and his PSA has been 0 ever since! He is a perfect example of how prostate cancer can affect any man - regardless of age - and how early detection is key! Farrell continues to have PSA tests every six months and is thankful to God for his recovery and for the support of his incredible wife, Gina.

Tony Wilson

I met Tony when he was 36 years old back in 1996. Tony was full of life, athletic and a devoted father of two young boys. Tony was part of my everyday life when my dad was initially diagnosed with prostate cancer. 

About a year after we met, Tony moved to Colorado and while we kept in a touch for a while, it wasn't long before life got in the way and we lost touch for many years.  Three years ago, our paths crossed again and I was shocked and sad to hear that he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer in October of 2011 at the age of 51. At the time of diagnosis, Tony was only four years older than my dad at his time of diagnosis and my heart shuddered to think that he had gone through this battle at such a young age and alone.

When Tony was diagnosed, his PSA was 46! He endured hormone therapy and Cyberknife radiation treatments - five directly to the prostate and 23 to the surrounding lymph nodes. His treatment was completed in March 2012 and he has had negative PSAs ever since. He's physically doing well, is appreciative of every day that the Lord has given him and wholeheartedly believes in the power of prayer.

Glenn Poe

Natalie, my friend and Glenn's daughter, was happy to share his story with me. Glenn was diagnosed in 1992 at the age of 54. His prostate cancer was diagnosed through a routine checkup and he had a PSA of 4.5.

Glenn was told that if his cancer was inoperable he had five to six years to live and if it was operable he had 10 to 12 years to live.  Glenn has surpassed the doctor's expectations because he is now 78 years old!

He endured radiation and surgery in which his urologist said the cancer was well contained and he was able to "get it all".  Twenty-four years later, Glenn is still cancer free and continues to have a PSA of 0.1! He has always had an unshakeable fear of the 10-12 year survival comment and while now feeling physically healthy, he remains heartbroken over the loss of his amazing wife to ovarian cancer in December 2012.  Natalie attributes her father's survival to early detection which yielded great results!

Lou Manne

Lou, my friend Adam's dad, was diagnosed at the age of 80 by way of a routine blood test during his annual physical.  Lou endured radiation and chemotherapy with his last treatment being in December 2014. A native, New Yorker, Lou now enjoys life between living in Las Vegas and Bali, Indonesia. Once he got a clean bill of health in the U.S., he couldn't wait to go back to Bali and enjoy the good life again! I can't blame him! He will continue follow up appointments and routine PSAs when he returns to Vegas.

 Gary Pugh

I've known Gary for the majority of my life. I grew up with

his daughter, Kari, and his son, Casey. Their mother, Sheila, was my mom's best friend and my "second mom" until we unfortunately lost her in November 2003. 

In 2013, Gary's PSA slowly started to increase but was still only at a 2.5. His doctor suggested Gary see a urologist when it was at 4.5 at which time a biopsy was conducted. In September 2014, Gary was diagnosed with prostate cancer at the age of 67. In February 2015, he opted to have surgery to remove the prostate to hopefully eliminate the risk of his cancer returning.

Ironically, his urologist is the protégé of my dad's urologist who diagnosed him back in 1997. Gary is in great hands because Dr. Desai is a mini me of Dr. Lou and extremely proactive! Another example how early detection and a proactive doctor is key!

Bill

In 2003, at the age of 71, Bill's PSA was a 5 and had symptoms of problematic urination. His doctor recommended a biopsy which confirmed prostate cancer and that same year Bill had a radical prostatectomy. In 2004, Bill's PSA started to increase again. A small spot was found and he went through radiation. I'm happy to say he has been cancer free ever since with a PSA of 0.1.

Clarence R. Moore

Clarence is my dad's grandfather who was diagnosed in the 1960s with prostate cancer had cobalt radiation treatment because it was the only option at that point in time. He was a master electrician and died in 1968. I, unfortunately, was not able to meet my great grandfather who my dad remembers fondly. I feel he passed on many of his genuine traits to his great grandson.

Art Campbell

I never got the pleasure of meeting Art, but I often feel as if I know him through his son. Art was diagnosed with prostate cancer with a PSA in the single digits but it slowly increased over time. After radiation and chemotherapy, it eventually metastasized to the bone and caused much pain in the pelvic area and broken bones.  At the age of 83, Art lost his battle as a result of prostate-cancer related complications.
The following are additional men who have been affected by prostate cancer for whom I vowed to walk. Unfortunately, I have not been given photos or stories but will share what I know.

I will also be racing in honor or memory of the following men:

• Avery Williams, survivor and friend
• Ron DeFreitas, survivor and friend, currently undergoing chemotherapy and radiation
• the father of my cousin, Gail Moore
• the father of my friend, Nancy Kotney
• the father of my friend, Paula Calvin
• Robert Pearles, the grandfather of Kerri Beroza (Certified Specialist of Wine, Ingleside Vineyards)
• Ron Klebacher, father of my friend, Honora Klebacher - survivor of prostate (and colon) cancer
• the father of Laura Brletic (owner of Confections Cupcakery)
• Tony Keyes, four year survivor and husband of Dawn Keyes (Old Hickory Golf Club)
• Gerry Moore, survivor and father of my high school friend, Jenny
• Sy Estep, maternal grandfather of my favorite guy

Rob Harris

While Rob did not have prostate cancer, I am adding him to my list of men for whom I walk because: 1) he was the son of a very good friend of mine; and 2) the way he fought his battle is one that should be showcased and admired.  On November 29, 2015, Rob was diagnosed with metastatic adenocarcinoma, characterized as Stage 4 small cell lung cancer.  His prognosis for survival without chemo was 3-6 months and with chemo and radiation was a year. Rob was not satisfied with simply extending his life while enduring the ravages of traditional chemo and radiation. After much research and soul searching, he decided to fight this disease with a non-traditional approach - starting with a complete raw diet of organic vegetables and fruit to detoxify his body followed by treatment protocols including immunotherapy and was gone for over a month.. abroad.  (Check out www.gersontreatment.com for more info.) 

I am horribly sad to say that Rob lost his valiant battle to cancer on March 24, 2016; never giving up, always staying positive and doing it HIS way. In the words of his heartbroken father, and one of my favorite people, Bob, "During the last month, he was in horrible pain. But, to talk with him, you would never have known it. Positive and upbeat until the end. He was actually thanking all the nursing staff for all that they did until hours before he passed away. Rob was an amazing and thoughtful person who loved his family, loved his son unconditionally, loved life and lived it to the fullest, and was an unwavering friend." May we all learn from Rob and remain Harris Strong!

Through me, these men will never be alone, will never be forgotten and they will continue to have a voice.

It's not too late to make a donation and help me put an end to this wretched disease!  2.8 million men are diagnosed with prostate cancer every year!! Please help me create Generation Zero!


http://support.zerocancer.org/site/TR/RunWalk/RunWalk16?px=1102458&pg=personal&fr_id=1082 

Blessings abound

It's been a while since I've updated everyone and perhaps it was because after an incredibly successful fundraiser in April, I needed to decompress. I am ecstatic to say that I had over 80 people in attendance and more donated raffle, silent auction, and door prizes than last year. As a result, I raised over $6,000 and there are so many people to thank. For fear of inadvertently missing someone, I'm not going to state names. You know who you are - you were there. You bought cupcakes, you bought raffle tickets, you bid on silent auction items, you drank wine and you supported my family in a way that cannot compare! For that, and so much more, I thank you.

I am almost at my goal of $12,500 and I have 11 days to go! So that means there is still plenty of time for you procrastinators to donate! You thought that you were off the hook, huh? Yeah, not so much. I will never stop trying to put an end to this disease!  Here's the link to make a donation: http://support.zerocancer.org/site/TR/RunWalk/RunWalk16?px=1102458&pg=personal&fr_id=1082
More important than the money and the awareness I am raising is the fact that Dad is finally healing! You may recall that his last chemo was December 30, 2015. We decided to take a chemo vacation because his body was extremely weak and could not take anymore. While chemo was killing the cancer, it had begun to lose its effectiveness because the PSA started to slowly rise again. More detrimental than that was the fact that chemo was starting to do more harm to Dad than good. The poison needed to cease.

One would think when you stop chemo, you would start feeling better soon, right? Wrong. Just because you stop pumping poison into your body every month doesn't mean that the poison disappears. The effects don't disappear either. Over the last six months, I have been watching my dad slowly deteriorate. He hasn't been suffering because of the cancer though. He's been suffering at the hand of chemo.  Chemo has caused him to walk with a cane (if he walks at all) because his feet hurt so bad from nerve pain. Chemo has caused him to stop eating and lose weight at a pound a week because his gums were badly infected, his teeth are loose and it is extremely painful to bite. Chemo has caused him extreme fatigue and exhaustion just by sitting in a chair. Chemo has caused him to go back on oxycodone every three to four hours because the constant head and mouth pain is horrendous. Chemo has caused his personality to diminish because he is living in complete misery. He doesn't engage in conversation and  he suffers through continuous pain getting frustrated because he has no energy or strength to do the simplest of tasks. Chemo brain caused him to act erratically and I can't even begin to tell you how much my mom resembles a pure angel.  Chemo changed my dad.  I would see him but I wouldn't know him. That man who looked like my dad wasn't my dad anymore.

He has been blessed with advice from a nutritionist over the last few months and I taught Mom how to make smoothies so Dad would get the calories and good fat that he needs to put weight back on or at least to help him stop losing. Hesitant at first because who in their right mind wants to drink green stuff, it didn't take long for him to jump on the green smoothie bandwagon and that started to help. Then one morning, in late May, he was able to get into the periodontist. That's when things started to change.

Within three days of being put on two different antibiotics and a medicated mouthwash, Dad's mouth pain was just about gone!! The man who has been sitting in a chair, sucking down narcotics, barely eating and holding his face in his hands in pure misery day in and day out talked to me on the phone for two straight hours! One night, he was afraid that mom would complain because she was trying to sleep and he wouldn't stop talking! On June 1, we celebrated his birthday at his favorite local Mexican restaurant and he not only carried on a conversation with us the entire time but he even started them! We spent more time with him at home opening presents and he even jumped up and started screaming at the tv because of the exciting Nats baseball game!  I was in awe and almost couldn't believe my eyes.  I looked at Dad and said, "Welcome back, buddy!" The defining moment; however, was when I went to leave my parents' house that night.

For as long as I can remember, when I leave, my mom and dad stand on the front porch waving until I drive out of sight. I can't remember the last time my dad even got up out of his chair to say goodbye much less came outside. That night, June 1, I sat in my car, turned around to look at the house as I was backing out and the biggest smile came across my face. My parents - both of them - my mom AND MY DAD - were standing on the front porch waving goodbye to me. You'd think it was my birthday and not Dad's because I got the best present of all that night!

I'm pleased to say that Dad has been improving more and more each day. In his 45 years of practice, the periodontist said he's never seen someone respond to antibiotics and heal so quickly! We thought he may have to pull Dad's loose teeth but now that may not even have to occur. Chemo caused his gum line to pull away from his teeth, but it may grow back in time. We'll try to be patient and see what happens over the next few months. Bottom line is my dad's personality is back, the infection and mouth pain are gone and he hasn't had to take oxycodone in almost a week!

Every day is a gift. Every good day is a blessing. When you have nothing but bad days for six months straight, a string of good days culminating in a week is an absolute miracle.

Thank you all for your continued prayers. Please keep 'em coming! We have been through the valley and it was very dark. But we've seen the light at the end of the tunnel. While it's a very long tunnel, that slightest hint of light is making all the difference.

What your friends with cancer want you to know but are afraid to say....

I posted this last year as a result of it resonating with my dear friend, Peggy, who we lost a year ago February after a valiant fight with breast cancer.  She thanked me for posting the article to Facebook because it said everything she was feeling but didn't know how to say. I find it very appropriate to post it again in light of the hell that my dad is going through with prostate cancer.


Please take a few moments to read this and really take it to heart. Until you have encountered a cancer diagnosis and battle of your own or are a caregiver to a cancer warrior, you really have no idea how it feels. 

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What your friends with cancer want you to know (but are afraid to say)
-Kim Helminski Keller (a Dallas-based mom, wife, teacher and journalist who is currently receiving treatment for thyroid cancer.)

People with cancer are supposed to be heroic.
We fight a disease that terrifies everyone.
We are strong because we endure treatments that can feel worse than the actual malignancies.
We are brave because our lab tests come back with news we don’t want to hear.



The reality of life with cancer is very different from the image we try to portray. Our fight is simply a willingness to go through treatment because, frankly, the alternative sucks. Strength? We endure pain and sickness for the chance to feel normal down the road.  Brave? We build up an emotional tolerance and acceptance of things we can’t change. Faith kicks in to take care of the rest.
The truth is that if someone you love has cancer, they probably won’t be completely open about what they’re going through because they’re trying so hard to be strong. For you.

However, if they could be truly honest and vulnerable, they would tell you:

1. Don’t wait on me to call you if I need anything.  Please call me every once in a while and set up a date and time to come over. I know you told me to call if I ever needed anything, but it’s weird asking others to spend time with me or help me with stuff I used to be able to do on my own. It makes me feel weak and needy, and I’m also afraid you’ll say “no.”

2. Let me experience real emotions. Even though cancer and its treatments can sometimes influence my outlook, I still have normal moods and feelings in response to life events. If I’m angry or upset, accept that something made me mad and don’t write it off as the disease. I need to experience and express real emotions and not have them minimized or brushed off.

 

3. Ask me “what’s up” rather than “how do you feel.” Let’s talk about life and what’s been happening rather than focusing on my illness.

 

4. Forgive me.  There will be times when the illness and its treatment make me “not myself.” I may be forgetful, abrupt or hurtful. None of this is deliberate. Please don’t take it personally, and please forgive me.

 

5. Just listen. I’m doing my very best to be brave and strong, but I have moments when I need to fall apart. Just listen and don’t offer solutions. A good cry releases a lot of stress and pressure for me.

 

6. Take pictures of us. I may fuss about a photo, but a snapshot of us can help get me through tough times.  A photo is a reminder that someone thinks I’m important and worth remembering. Don’t let me say “I don’t want you to remember me like this” when treatment leaves me bald or scarred.  This is me, who I am RIGHT NOW. Embrace the now with me.

 

7. I need a little time alone.  A few points ago I was talking about how much I need to spend time with you, and now I’m telling you to go away.  I love you, but sometimes I need a little solitude. It gives me the chance to take off the brave face I’ve been wearing too long, and the silence can be soothing.

 

8. My family needs friends. Parenting is hard enough when your body is healthy; it becomes even more challenging when you’re managing a cancer diagnosis with the day-to-day needs of your family. My children, who aren’t mature enough to understand what I’m going through, still need to go to school, do homework, play sports, and hang out with friends. Car-pooling and play dates are sanity-savers for me. Take my kids. Please. My spouse could also benefit from a little time with friends. Grab lunch or play a round of golf together. I take comfort in knowing you care about the people I love.

 

9. I want you to reduce your cancer risk. I don’t want you to go through this. While some cancers strike out of the blue, many can be prevented with just a few lifestyle changes – stop smoking, lose extra weight, protect your skin from sun damage, and watch what you eat. Please go see a doctor for regular check-ups and demand follow-up whenever pain, bleeding or unusual lumps show up. Many people can live long and fulfilling lives if this disease is discovered in its early stages. I want you to have a long and fulfilling life.

 

10. Take nothing for granted. Enjoy the life you have right now. Take time to jump in puddles, hug the kids, and feel the wind on your face. Marvel at this amazing world God created, and thank Him for bringing us together.

 

While we may not be thankful for my cancer, we need to be grateful for the physicians and treatments that give me the chance to fight this thing. And if there ever comes a time when the treatments no longer work, please know that I will always be grateful for having lived my life with you in it. I hope you feel the same about me.