"If it doesn't kill you . . ."

" . . . it only makes you stronger." How often have you heard that somewhat oxymoronic old adage? Coaches use it to validate their training methods, others in an attempt to offer a rationale or encouragement to those dealing with a variety of events in their lives -- physical injuries and illnesses, ends of relationships, problems at work or school. It's popped into my head a few times the past couple of weeks, in particular after I've finished retching and vomiting the contents of an almost empty stomach right after chemotherapy -- an observation that those of you who know me as the biology teacher I am may appreciate, well maybe not appreciate, but not find unexpected: fresh blueberries stay in your stomach long after most of the rest of breakfast has moved on.

Chemotherapy, does seem to be one of those things that kind of fits the adage. So far, it hasn't killed me, although "death" from any one of a number of causes does sit among the rare, but possible, side effects of both drugs I receive. It hasn't left me stronger physically, either -- and I'm not relating all of this looking for sympathy nor am I "sandbagging" (my running friends know what this means) prior to the Dipsea; people ask how things are going, so I hope this answers the question. In addition to the nausea and digestive distress that has accompanied my last several chemo sessions (although it hasn't lasted past the day I get infused -- as much a "head" thing as something physical), I get regular nosebleeds, my hair (head and body) is thinning, I bruise easily, my blood pressure has increased (requiring an increase in the dosage of my blood pressure medication), blood counts and hemoglobin levels drop, and a fatigue that sleep doesn't seem to relieve settles in for several days -- that's the side effect that most affects my life. It leaves me with arms that feel heavy, a head that gets "fuzzy" (or fuzzier for those who have seen me enter a room and wonder why I'm there), and a general malaise -- sometimes I feel too tired to read but not to sleep, if that makes sense. It gets better with the passing of time, although just as am feeling almost normal, three weeks out of four, I'm back in for another dose of what I've come to call "anti-performance enhancing drugs." I am beginning to lust after those every fourth weeks off when I feel my old "normal" self for the most part. My doctor has talked about cutting out the middle, gemcitabine-only dose and going to an every-other-week regimen -- giving me two such weeks each cycle -- but doesn't want to do so yet since we are seeing such good results. My CA 19-9 level has continued to drop and is now in the high "normal" range at 37. The abdominal pain I do have generally occurs a day or so after a chemo session and lasts for a few days, hinting that it is due to inflammation occurring at the sites of tumor necrosis (die tumor cells, die!!) rather than "cancer" pain. As crummy as I feel at times, I have to agree that staying the course is the best option; I can't argue with success.

So, am I stronger for all of this? Physically, no, even though I try to exercise by walking, running or biking 5-6 days each week. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually? Maybe. I'm not even sure if stronger is the right word. Have I been changed by the experience? Most certainly, especially my perspective on so many things. It has been easy to discard lots of "stuff," the trivia that rule too much of all our lives, and focus on what's important -- love, relationships, the need for laughter in our lives, the need to find something good in each and every day and to be thankful for it. And in saying this I don't mean to discount the work I do and have done as a teacher, or the things that have to be done to keep food on the table and a roof over my head. It's just that the significance of so many every day things has changed. Have I enjoyed some increased philosophical clarity about life and love then? I don't know if it's clarity as much as a sorting out of the things, people and events that make up my life. I will not pretend to have any grand insights into or revelations about living life, about facing demons, about death and dying (subjects that still are scary for me). One thing that has become very clear to me is that none of us really have control over many of the things that happen in our lives, even though we may take our plans for our lives as a matter of fact. In the end, stuff will happen over which we have little say. Our only hope lies in our attitudes and the way we react to whatever life throws at us. A corollary to that is that I have learned how much I am loved, and how important knowing that is to my well-being, to my attitude about life. If I can share any insight it is that we all need to be open to love, to recognize it in others, and to reciprocate. Ultimately, it's what enables me to continue on this journey. My thanks, as always, for the continued prayers and the support so many of you provide in so many ways. God bless . . .

Peace,

Don