T – 27 and counting. This past weekend, my daughter Kathryn along with my two granddaughters, Adela and Faye, spent the afternoon making calendars as their way of encouraging me forward on my countdown of the days remaining. That countdown will hit zero in the middle of January leaving me just a month to recover before my seventy fifth birthday. I hope they will always know how much that means to me.
When Deb and I met the doctor that first time, for a moment when the cancer word first entered the conversation, we felt terribly alone. Almost immediately the support started showing up. In fact, by the time we went home we had a radiologist team, oncology team, a nutritionist, a gastrologist, swallow therapy doctor, speech and language doctor, and a cancer guide nurse. Though overwhelming, Deb and I have come to realize how important they are if we are going to be successful.
I swear the radiologist team must have a hundred players. Every time I have a radiation treatment, there are three new faces in the room. To their credit, everyone of them know me and treat me like a guest at their inn, not just another patient for them to work through the system. When you can be made to feel comfortable while a machine zaps you for twenty minutes, well I am glad they are on the team. Meanwhile the oncology team makes me feel like I’m flying first class on United, except maybe for the IV tube and bag of chemo hanging over my head. Deb and I have our own little cubicle and even though busy with her schedule, the nurse attends to our snacks and beverage needs. Each team we meet with gives me more information and encouragement. They listen, and according to Deb, I don’t give them much of an option, but that chance to talk about it, to let my guard down, is my chance to find firm ground. No one ever had to ask me twice to let them know how I feel. I can bury that masculinity card pretty quick when there is someone who will listen, even if it is their job.
There was one strange piece today, or at least not as strange as this whole journey. The nutritionist mentioned that there are patients who forego these team services and just choose to meet with radiation and chemo alone. I say, if you’re offering I’m taking. I don’t know how you could give me too much support. For all of my working life, I made sure that I recognized the support people that surrounded me, that helped me meet the deadlines and accomplished all the details. I never thought that I could truly be successful without them. We were all part of a team in every sense of the word. Unfortunately, it is easy to take for granted that somehow the work could get done without them, that the patient would simple get better without them. Today I knew I needed to include the roles these nurses, doctors, practitioners, and therapists play in my cancer journey. I’m only six days in and I know I won’t be successful, or at least not as successful without them. They are all heroes and on this journey they are my heroes.
Dear Bad Ass Ken – let’s talk via email, if you are interested. Or I can come over and tell you about the world, there’s so much going on so you can sit and absorb. Pat tells me I talk too much so I will compress 30 hours of talk into whatever amount of time you allot me. Text me.
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