Its Game Time

Today I begin a week long preconditioning regiment before receiving a stem cell transplant next Thursday; my new birthday.  Frankly my mind has been a mess this past week.  Thoughts buried shortly after my diagnosis have emerged again, and I've been carrying them around like a ton of bricks.  This past week I've gone through a range of emotions.  I've felt really depressed, angry, sad, hopeful, and joyful.  At times I've found myself feeling like I need to tie up loose ends just in case.  Other times I've focused on fully engaging myself in certain moments...striving to live in them completely.  I had hoped that having cancer might eliminate my moodiness.  However there have been times this week when I've been so pissed I had to lock myself in my room for hours and try to sleep. The reasons are difficult to pin down.  One night Missy said to me during a long conversation, "If you're worried about dying do you really want to spend your last week being so angry?"   It was a pretty low moment.  She was right.  I hadn't said more than two words to anyone for days, and just walked around the house scowling.  How could I treat her and the rest of my family with anger at a time when I should be letting them know how much I care about them?

Doctors all along have felt the need to explain to me in a variety of styles, ranging from blunt to rude, that the transplant is a very serious procedure and I may not survive.   Each time I hear this I want to tell the doctors to fuck off.  I don't know if they think its helpful for me to hear, or if they are trying to cover their own asses, but for me hearing those words is simply demoralizing.   I know what the risks are, but I'd rather focus on fighting and winning, not dwell on the possibility of losing.   Yet what the hell am I doing right now in this blog?  Perhaps I just need to get all of this off my chest.

I am not afraid of dying.   In a physical sense, death would merely be a relief from the nastiness of this disease and its treatment.  Instead the thought of dying fills me with the absolute deepest sense of sadness I have ever felt.  The thought of watching Brogan and Ethan's first T-ball game from bleachers on "the other side" is so unbearable I have a hard time even writing it.  The possibility of missing out on my remaining years with Missy rips my heart to pieces.   I want to go on family vacations with my boys, play catch and climb mountains with them.  I want more time with my family and friends.  For God's sake I'm only 36 years old.   Life is just getting started.  I want to grow old.

I wonder, can a person's will to live be so strong they can defy death?   Should the circumstance present itself will I be able to choose to fight and live?  Does God make complete plans for us, or are we presented with challenges and left to our own devices?  Who knows the answers?  Not me.  All I know is that I am not ready to call it quits, and if death comes knocking I will stubbornly refuse to open the door.  I've been told by more than one person that I'm pretty stubborn.

People often refer to my cancer with hate and anger, but I don't feel a sense of ill will towards the cancer.  The treatment has certainly been rough at times, but to me the cancer itself is in many ways a positive entity; one that I actually care about.  Certainly when the time comes I will cordially ask it to leave my body and not return.  But I feel it has been a necessary part of my life.  Something to be experienced as part of my growth as a human being...another journey to learn from.  It has truly helped my family to grow stronger, and wiser, and I hope it will instill in my boys a stronger value for life as they get older and understand more.

Another burden of the mind that's resurfaced from time to time is the need to know why this happened. Yet "why" is such a dangerous question, and I struggle not to engage it.  I will never fully know the answer, yet it's difficult not to dwell on.  Is this payback for things I've done wrong in my life?  Is this a totally random event?  When the urge to produce an answer overcomes my resistance in looking for one, I like to think that I am making a necessary sacrifice for myself and my family.   I'm thankful that I'm the one making it.  Before my diagnosis, our family was always too busy, or too tired; focusing too much on material things.   Now what really matters most is so clear to us.  It all comes down to love.  Love of family.  Love of friends.  Love of Self.  That's what guides us now.

Anyhow, as for what's to come...here's a brief rundown.  Today I will have bilateral lines inserted into my chest.  These will be used both to draw blood and administer medicine, chemo, stem cells, etc.   After the lines are placed I will begin a two day regimen of chemo, and then 4 days of total body radiation.  On Thursday, I will only get one dose of radiation and then I will receive the stem cell transplant.  This s when the game kicks into high gear.  Since the chemo and radiation will have completely wiped out my immune system, infection will be a very dangerous enemy.  Additionally there is the possibility of "graft versus host" disease.  This is when the new cells perceive the rest of my body as foreign and begin to attack it.  The doctors like to see a low level of graft versus host disease, because it lets them know things are working, however they don't want it to get out of hand, as it can be fatal.  The third concern is that the transplant is ineffective and the cancer returns.  In which case I would have to go through all of this again.  I'm really hoping it works the first time!

Despite some of the negative things I've just written about, I feel very confident that I will get through this successfully and get back to life with my family and friends.  I've felt this way from the beginning and the feeling has never wavered.  I'm looking forward to getting into the game and will try to keep up with the blog posts as the week progresses.  Thanks to all of you who have been so thoughtful and supportive through my treatment.  

Peace.