Author: kwundrow

My Cancer Journey: Ringing the Bell

Posted on by kwundrow

When this journey began back in October, I set a goal. I was going to ring the bell. But to earn that I had to face what lay ahead. Thirty three times I would lay down on that table and be hit with radiation. That radiation would be targeted at my tongue and throat. Included in the protocol would be as many chemo treatments as my body can handle. Though I was warned how hard that treatment would be, I had my goal.

As the number of radiation treatments piled up, my condition deteriorated. Eventually chemo was no longer an option. We would have to settle for only four of the seven treatments they had planned. Next hurdle was my ability to get down enough calories without going to a feeding tube. Though definitely the most difficult part of the journey, I cleared that hurdle. Yesterday, I crossed off the thirty-third radiation treatment, walked out of the room, and rang the bell. I wasn’t there alone. My radiation team, my two daughters, my wife, and even my two grand-kids joined with me as I rang it. And then when I rang it again!

As I stood there at the finish line, I knew I had not accomplished this on my own. The support of my family was always there. When I grew weak, they grew stronger in their commitment to keeping me going. When I reached out in this blog, you the readers, gave me strength through your messages and prayers. If it had been possible, I would have invited you all to the ringing.

I want to say that ringing the bell signified that it was all over. That it meant a clean bill of health. That crossing the finish line meant the tumor was gone. The truth is that getting to ring the bell marked the end of the first half of the journey. The healing process now lies ahead. These next two weeks will be the hardest. My body is weak. I am fatigued and still plagued with the aftermath of all that radiation. Healing will start, but slowly. Never the less, yesterday WAS significant. I can start to look ahead. The true finish line will be crossed three months from now. I will take that long to heal to the point where they can take another CT scan. My hope, my belief, my prayer, is that CT scan will show the tumor gone. I will be a cancer survivor!

Yesterday WAS significant. Tomorrow and every day after are important. Each day will take me one step closer to my final goal. Cancer free!

My Cancer Journey: The End is in Sight?

Posted on by kwundrow

It was two for Tuesday today. After two radiation sessions in one day, they added in a fluids infusion. It was a long day but it also brought me nearer to the end. With these two sessions today, I now have only three radiation treatments remaining. This means that once I walk out of radiation on Friday, I get to RING THE BELL! This is a big deal. I have invited both of my daughters to be there as I celebrate crossing the finish line.

I am not trying to rain on my own parade, but even though I finish treatments, it’s not really over. Those two weeks after that last treatment will be tough. That is the warning they are giving me. My body needs to heal now and my throat has been completely burned by the radiation. The difficulty I have eating and the amount of weight I have lost, will stand in my way. But, I’ve come this far, what’s a couple more weeks? Then there’s the question everyone asks, “will the tumor be gone?” The answer, unfortunately, will have to wait two to three months before they can do a final CT scan. Fingers crossed, the answer will be that it is gone.

This journey has been tough, even tougher than I thought it would be. Through it all, I found my strength in the incredible support I received from friends and family. So many of you prayed for me. Still others sent me periodic messages of strength. A little shout out to my sister and my cousin who sent me daily inspirations. Some of you even took over when I couldn’t do it myself. And then there was my wife, Deb. She never missed a beat. Day in and day out she was there for me. She was my cook, my stenographer, my cheerleader, and my coach. She experimented as we searched for foods and combinations that I would tolerate. She filled notebooks with the advice and directives of our seven doctor team. And when I was down, she left me daily notes of encouragement. I would not have made it this far without that support. You win battles through team efforts. Thank you everyone for all that you have done. Your encouragement and willingness to help was the strength you gave me to see this through. I had a team of doctors but just as important, I had a team of supporters.

Thanks for taking this journey with me. I would never had taken it without you.

My Cancer Journey: The Kindness of Neighbors

Posted on by kwundrow

We are entering the home stretch. Treatment will be completed next Friday. As this journey has progressed, I have gotten considerably weaker and have continued to struggle finding enough calories. Many friends and family have offered to help in whatever way we need them, but so far, we have managed. But that ended tonight. I watched Deb spend all afternoon packing away the Christmas decorations while I sat on the couch. I decided I needed to help out and would tackle taking down and storing our rather large artificial Christmas tree. I first had to separate the three sections of the tree. That done, I would have to get them back in the large storage box. There they would lie silent, waiting for next Christmas. I managed the separation part, but half way through the packing away, the room gave way. In a heartbeat, a very rapid heart beat, I found myself on my back on the floor. After a few scary moments, we decided it was time to call in one of those offers. Tom and Judy, our neighbors across the street, was one of our options. Deb put out the call and within minutes they were there. Tom took over the job of storing the tree while Judy, a retired nurse took charge of me. Thankfully, my heart settled down, my pulse strengthened and my blood pressure looked good. We made it through this time.

I am so grateful to live in a neighborhood where any of my neighbors would have responded the same. The same holds true for each and every promise to step in whether or not the opportunity arose. It’s knowing you would is all I need. It alone gives me strength to keep going.

We have reached the point in this journey when everything is tough. Where pain is constant, and just trying is an effort. But we will make it. Deb will keep up the advocacy along with her own journal. I will keep trying. Together we will see this to the end. Tonight, without Tom and Judy, I’m not sure how it would have ended. At the very least, my tree would be lying in state in our living room. Three separate pieces trying to be whole. I have learned a valuable lesson, If people want to help, I really should let them.

My Cancer Journey: Running on Empty

Posted on by kwundrow

We are down to eight radiation / chemo treatments left. Put another way, we are two thirds of the way to the end. But we have run into a hiccup. Last week, our fourth chemo was canceled. The idea was that with time off, my counts would rebound and we would get back at it. Today was supposed to be that “back at it” day. On a typical chemo day, we report early to have blood drawn and a port put in. That port is where the saline and then chemo will be dripped into my body. Next stop, oncology for a consult and then on to radiation. Once I have had that treatment, it is finally time for chemo. Today, that should have been the routine.

So what went wrong? Over the past several days, I was experiencing weight loss coupled with fatigue. My weight began to drop as soon as I started my treatments. At first, my weight loss was gradual. I dropped from 183 pounds to 175 pounds. That was over a four week period. Since then I continued to lose pounds and this morning I weighed in at 162 pounds. Two culprits are at work here. As my tumor is hit with its daily dose of radiation, it becomes pretty raw. Eating is my least favorite thing to do. The second culprit is apparently my bone marrow. It says it does not like the radiation or the chemo and it has taken it out on my platelets. Today’s blood draw came back with low counts on my red and white blood cells. The drop in my platelets was the most pronounced. To do a chemo treatment, our doctor needed that count to be 95. Mine was 12. The only good news for me was that a suspect had been identified and it wasn’t me.

When you are in cancer treatment and things start getting rough, the tendency is to ask questions. You wonder about the actions you are taking. Are they causing things to get rough? Finding out that it was a problem with my bone marrow was a relief. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I often find myself grabbing onto any piece of news and trying to extract something positive. Today, my weight loss and my platelet count would be worked on. The blocked chemo time would be made up. Today’s chemo was replaced with an infusion of platelets meant to give me a boost. Strange as it seems, I found comfort in that. But then, I’m a little strange when it comes to perspective.

My Cancer Journey: Chemo Holiday

Posted on by kwundrow

T – 12 and holding. The title really says it all. Yesterday, I was graciously given a pass for chemo session five. That’s the good news. The problem is that I still have to get the last three in. The holiday is not really because of Christmas but that would have been nice. The real reason is low counts across the board. The holiday is so that I can get my counts to rebound and for me to gain some weight back.

If it wasn’t for the taste thing, Christmas brunch and dinner would certainly take care of the weight thing. But this Christmas I will have to deal with looking at food that just two months ago would have irresistible. It is what it is though and I will need to find my way through the food maze. At least I will be surrounded by family and that will be enough to lift my spirits.

Merry Christmas to all of my readers. Please take a second somewhere during this holiday season and say a little prayer for any and all who might be suffering their cancer journey. Believe me, they can feel the energy it sends.

Generational Traditions

Posted on by kwundrow

Christmas may come just once a year, but in all the hurry and busyness leading up to it, it’s easy to lose sight of what it truly means. Across the world, Christmas Day reminds us of the birth of Christ and the hope that entered the world with Him. But to me, Christmas is more than a single date on the calendar—it is a season of the heart. It is a season filled with generosity and kindness, with laughter shared in gatherings and joy found in celebrations. It is the thoughtful exchange of gifts, the comfort of favorite foods and treats, and above all, it is family. It is the blessing of being together, the beauty of connection, and the warmth of a shared family tradition.

When I was growing up, our family tradition was church on Christmas Eve and performing in the children’s presentation of the Christmas Story. After the mandatory delaying tactic visit to my aunt’s home, we would race home to eagerly open our gifts. Empty boxes and piles of wrapping paper later, my brothers and I would retire to coach to watch The Christmas Carol. We would start the movie snuggled in my dad’s arms. Although we didn’t make it to the end of the film, we saw Ebenezer Scrooge begin to change after meeting the three spirits.   Somewhere between the Spirit of the Present and the Spirit of Things yet to Come, sleep would overpower us. Dad would wake us and point us in the direction of our bedroom just as Tiny Tim was uttering his famous line, “God bless us everyone.” Repeated year after year it seeped into my very being. As I grew older, no Christmas was complete without the viewing of The Christmas Carol. When my daughters were born, they were the ones nestled under my arms on the couch and true to tradition, they would never make it to the end. Like my dad, with the movie ending, I would scoop them up and carry them off to their beds.

Through the years my own family has created our version of that tradition from my childhood. Influenced by my dad, my wife and I created our version of that family time during the Christmas season. It started simple with a trip to a movie and a dinner afterward. That first one being Paulie and dinner at TGI Fridays. I still remember watching the snow softly falling as we sat under the glass canopied side table eating dinner. Traditions have that effect of creating memories that are so vivid you remember every aspect of them. Over the years and as our daughters grew, the honoring of the tradition became tickets each year to the theatrical performance of A Christmas Carol. Now grown and parents themselves, they still hold to the core of that tradition, family time together in a Christmas activity. It always includes dressing up, a holdover from the stage performances, and dinner together now all planned by my daughters. Our last one was a stage performance and dinner in Chicago.

Now as the Opa to three grandchildren, the tradition of watching A Christmas Carol is me watching the movie on Christmas Eve as I await the arrival of our children and their families Christmas morn. But know this, it is my goal to follow the tradition with my grandchildren even if I must drag them to the couch, bribe them with treats, and force them to watch. I will let the movie do the rest. God bless them all.

My Cancer Journey: The New Bucket List

Posted on by kwundrow

Week four is now behind me and starting tomorrow I will have thirteen sessions of radiation to complete.  Though I am feeling the best I have felt in several days, chemo session number four was rough. My counts are all low now which means I am on house arrest and I am not a happy camper. Missing so many things during the holidays is tough. You can only watch so many Christmas movies before you ache to be with friends during the holidays. With every passing day another party, another get-together, another festivity has to be skipped. I begin to list all the things I am missing. And thus, I present to you my new bucket list:

Lazy Jane’s for breakfast, possibly for days in a row, a steak, medium rare and covered in mushrooms and onions, Culvers North Atlantic Cod dinner, in the restaurant, no mask, a piece of pie, any pie, with whipped cream, lots of whipped cream, a crowded room with people having conversations, going out to a movie, sipping wine on the porch of Wollersheim Winery, trying all of the food samples at Costco and savoring the flavors. Playing with my grandkids, hugging people again, being free. I suspect you understand now that this is not the normal bucket list, but the items are just as inviting as anything on my other bucket list, the one where I stand atop Machu Picchu or maybe the Great Wall of China. If and when my health and taste decide to return, watch out Madison and surrounding areas because I’m coming. I have a lot of catching up to do and I’m hungry, very hungry.

My Cancer Journey: Somethings Not Right Here

Posted on by kwundrow

T – 14 and counting

Four weeks in, with still 14 days to go. The good news is I get Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off next week, and I may even get out of one chemo treatment. I’m almost giddy thinking about it—though maybe that’s just the weight loss making me feel lighter. I’m officially back to the weight I was when they issued those old drinking IDs. Remember those? If not, you really missed out on a strange little era of draft cards and drinking licenses. Mine was worn thin from how often I had to pull it out. Anyway… I started treatment at 180 pounds. This morning I was 167. Quite the weight-loss program.

There are reasons cancer treatment takes the pounds off. Part of it is the tumor just wearing me down. Part of it is my throat not exactly loving the idea of swallowing food—more on that in a minute. But honestly, the biggest problem is taste. You don’t realize how much taste matters until it disappears.

When we enjoy food, it’s never just one sense. We see it first and remember what it should taste like. Then we smell it, and that makes us even more excited. Sometimes we even feel it—like a hot dog in a bun—before we finally get to that first bite. And when the taste matches or beats our expectations, it’s wonderful. When it doesn’t, everything falls apart pretty quickly.

Now picture your favorite pie. It looks amazing. It smells perfect. You’re ready for that first bite. For me, it’s pumpkin pie with a generous pile of whipped cream. That first bite is everything I hoped for—warm, creamy, delicious. Then I take a second bite… and suddenly it’s like a completely different pie. It tastes old, wrong, almost spoiled. It’s so awful I push the plate away and try not to give that bite back the way it came.

That’s what treatment has done to my taste buds. It isn’t really the tumor or pain that’s caused the big weight loss—it’s the fact that food just doesn’t taste right anymore. So now I’m living on things like cream of wheat and oatmeal. Bland foods, little expectation, fewer disappointments. I miss my favorites—pie, desserts, chocolate. And the hardest part is the food friends have lovingly brought us. Their hearts are in every dish. Many of them are proud of these meals, and I wish I could enjoy them the way they hoped I would. But most of the time I barely make it past a first bite. I worry it makes me look rude, but it’s just the reality right now.

So that’s my confession. I appreciate every gesture. Truly. I just can’t eat most of it. If there’s one upside, I probably did need to lose a few pounds—the tumor just got a little too enthusiastic about it. And when all of this is over and my taste finally returns, we’ll have a freezer full of meals waiting for me.

My Cancer Journey: Shrinkage is Good

Posted on by kwundrow

T- 17 and halfway point reached. Today we had both chemo and radiation treatments. This meant we were able to speak with both doctors in charge of my treatment and the take away, is good news. At the very least that is what Deb and I heard.

The tumor has started to shrink, which has ramifications for what’s next. Radiology will reset their markers and be able to focus the radiation away from the muscles of my tongue. This could mean a lessening of the pain I endure when I try to swallow anything I eat. Because the magnesium pill I take is very difficult to swallow, the radiologist recommended getting my magnesium through gummies. He has also okayed, almost recommended, switching to THC gummies to get the added benefit of increased appetite and some relief to my now long gone taste. That recommendation has not been completely accepted by my head nurse, Deb, but we’re working on it.

On the oncology side, we are being given a chemo holiday next week, perfect timing there, due in part to my platelet count dropping below the threshold for safe administering of chemo. Still, the good news is that we may only need one more session of chemo even with the one-week skip.

This is good news and it leads me to the first of my cancer treatment rules. For fans of HGTV, you may recognize my shameless use of the “Vacation House Rules” program.

Rule #1.  Find your support team

The temptation is to keep everything to yourself and just go it alone. This is a mistake. People want to feel useful when you get handed this crappy diagnosis. To deny them that chance isn’t fair to them and you. On top of that, you will be wasting a valuable and well-deserved side benefit. Don’t suffer alone, drag your friends in. I was kidding there. Ironically, they will thank you later for honoring them with the chance to show they really care. Now who doesn’t want that feeling? It’s a win win situation and when you have cancer take all the wins you can. Which leads me to my next cancer treatment rules.

Rule #2. Attitude is everything

You weren’t looking for this gift of cancer, but you also can’t walk away from it. The first thing that goes is your whole outlook on everything. That is to be understood. There is a boat load of hard work, discomfort, to put it lightly, and a tsunami of information appointments coming at you. Attitude is critical now. You can give into your cancer, or you can start finding a way through this. You do just that, if you look for the positives. The team of clinicians and doctors assigned to you will do everything they can to fight your cancer. There are even doctors on your team that  to guide you through that maze that the whole protocol created. Lean on friends, see Rule #1, and take each day as it comes. Find the reasons to smile, something worked, something felt a little better, or you just reconnected with a friend who found out you were in need. The little things matter. And that leads me to cancer treatment rule three.

Rule #3. Put in the work

Don’t let anyone tell you this will be easy. It won’t be. Cancer needs to be beaten, not ignored, not taken for granted, and certainly not coddled. You have to do the work. If you have to get up early every day to drive in to the clinic, don’t make your partner drag you out of bed. When they lay out the treatment schedule, get a handle on it. Prepare ahead mentally for what that day will bring. Being ready is good for you and the team. If this whole journey is going to end successfully, it is the effort you put in that will get it there. Prescription is half the battle. You still need to take the medicine. And that leads me to my final rule.

Rule #4. Follow the plan

Cancer is a team sport. Your team has multiple members. Your quarterbacks: the doctors, your running backs: the nurses, your offensive line: your friends and family keeping you safe through the process, your center: this is your most trusted partner, the person who will take charge of the battle at home. This team will collectively lay out a plan for tackling your cancer.  You need to trust these people to have your best interest at heart and because you trust them, follow the plan. There will be days when you might not want to do what’s being prescribed, but if it’s part of the plan, do the work. You are going to beat this. That’s part of the plan.

Deb and I got good news today. I can tell you that it is in no small part due to these four rules. My fight isn’t done but my attitude, my team, and the plan are getting it done. Tomorrow is day seventeen. Bring it on.

My Cancer Journey: Lost Days

Posted on by kwundrow

T- 19 and on hold for the weekend. My goal with this journal was to both let people know what treatment protocol is like, while also letting friends know how I was doing. The ride after chemo is rough. For the first twenty-four hours after, there is this increase in energy and spirit. That is at least what my experience was after those first three.

With the first two chemo sessions, I experienced a little nausea, but not much else. The chemo session I had on Wednesday was number three. Thursday was the same manic high that I have described before. Then on Friday I got my first look at what might lie ahead. I was down for the count, and nothing was working. Eating was a task because swallowing anything was painful to nearly impossible. My loving caretaker wife, worried about my weight loss, was constantly asking me what food she could make. Honestly, she should have been saying what food can I make you eat. The effort in eating is one thing, the general lack of taste and, with certain foods, the adverse taste, combines to make it undesirable. After radiation, yup, feeling lousy doesn’t get you a pass, the only thing that saved me was sleeping the entire afternoon away.

Today is Saturday, but Deb actually had to convince me of that since my chemo brain had apparently misplaced Friday. Considering how Friday had gone, good move chemo brain. I am feeling much better today, but also two pounds lighter than three days ago.  At this pace, when friends reach out asking if they can see me, I’d have to say maybe, maybe not. It depends on how I’m standing.

I have two days of rest before I mark the next session off my countdown calendar. It will be number fifteen and put one day closer to the end, one day closer to a cure. Everyone around me is trying to keep me positive, but their intent is hard for me to hear. I am in this dark tunnel and the light at the end seems so very far away. But keep the positive messages coming. If I am ever going to crawl out the other end of this tunnel, I need you to keep pushing me.