New Beginnings

First off, I do apologize to all of you who have been waiting for an update. I got sick a few weeks ago and I really got knocked off my feet.

Good news, I've only got two treatments left. Man, time has flown! I'm not complaining though, believe me. So, over the past few weeks, I got a nasty case of Strep Throat. It was awful!! I've never been so sick in all my life and there was a point where I really pretty much wanted to die. But, like a phoenix out of the ashes, I rose from what I thought was my demise and now I feel better than ever. Ive gained some of the 10 lbs. back that I lost while I was sick and am finally back in the gym after a hiatus for several weeks.

New beginnings.

The time has come, as I knew it would, where I start thinking about what I am going to do differently and how I will live my life going forward. At the beginning of all this, the oncologist told me there was nothing I did to cause this and that there is no way anyone could have predicted I would have developed lymphoma. Trust I wish I had a crystal ball that told me what the next five years would hold, but unfortunately, there is no mystic charm or clairvoyant whom I've met that has that power and I've looked!

I don't have any sage knowledge to bestow upon anyone, but I there are a few things I've learned over the past few months that I would like to share:

1. Don't ever take vitamins on an empty stomach, especially Zinc.
2. If you think you are gonna vomit, you probably are. Keep your toilet clean.
3. Positive thinking can get you through almost anything.
4. Other people's drama will always make you forget about your own.
5. Friends are a great distraction from the real world.
6. There is no disease or illness your friends won't find away to make jokes about, deal with it and laugh with them.
7. My mom and dad are the greatest parents in the world. I love you both more than words can express.
8. Chocolate is always the best prescription.
9. No matter what you are going through, there is always someone out there who has it worse than you. Grin and bare it!
10. None of us knows how long we are given on this planet, live your life to the fullest every day and embrace all that you have in this life.

So, as I sit here almost on the verge of losing it (I've been a bit emotional lately), I invite you to ask yourself, "What is really important to me?" If it's your family, your kids, your dog... Whatever it is, cherish it. Find happiness in whatever you can and express it every day of your life.

A few weeks after I was diagnosed with the "Big C", I had to go to Emory University for a few tests. As soon as I walked into the lobby of the Cancer Ward I glanced over and noticed a man in a wheelchair being pushed by what looked like his mother. The man appeared to be about 30-something, was completely bald and pale as a ghost. He was very week and seemingly hadn't seen the sun for some time. The lobby, that was outlined in glass, was the only window to the world the man had seen in some time. As we passed him, I thought about what the next 6 months would hold for me. Would I be bald? Would I be sickly and choleric? Lots of things flew through my mind and an overwhelming sense of fear and sadness came over me. I remember holding my mother's hand in the lobby and trying to fight back the tears welling up in my eyes. After what seemed like hours, I was finally called back to have the tests. I could not get the vision of that man out of my mind for weeks afterwards.

The reason I convey what I saw is because I think as humans we always think the absolute worst. We jump to conclusions so quickly and usually the outlook is overwhelmingly bad. My story is not over and I really don't know what the next two treatments will hold. All I do know is that I have been given a second chance and I intend on using that opportunity to live a life that is full of meaning and purpose. No more taking anything for granted and no more half-assed attempts at doing things. I am going to do all the things I have dreamed of doing and I am here to implore you to do the same with your life.

Take today as yor last day of living in the dark. Live in the light from here on out and challenge yourself to really live as if there is no tomorrow.

You never know what tomorrow holds for you.

Disaster Recovery

Labor Day weekend: My friends Scott and Ryan (and myself) decided that it would be a really good idea to hit New Orleans right about the time that Hurricane Gustav made an appearance as well. Being a "seasoned" hurricane enthusiast and having lived through my fair share, (Andrew, Ivan and Fran) I figured all we'd have to do is pack the car back up (we drove) and come back. No biggie, right - I'd been through this before. So, we got a rental car, loaded up our several pairs of shoes and over- stuffed luggage and headed out. I'll admit: yes, I pack like a chic. But having been through a monsoon in New Orleans last year, I wasn't taking any chances of looking like a drowned sewer rat, not even if a hurricane were to drop by for a spell.

Scott, my second year travel buddy to the event known as "Southern Decadence" and I still laugh about my ingenious plan of running like mad men through the cobblestone streets of the French Quarter in the pouring rain. Our shoes, needless to say, were ruined by the time we got home. Scott and our other travel companion, James, had to buy new shoes the following day. I still thought it was worth the experience to hear the both of them squeal like frightened women all the while running to our hotel on Canal Street. Okay, so I am easily amused.



Southern Decadence is akin to gay Mardis Gras in New Orleans. Boys and girls (well if you want to call them girls) come to New Orleans for a scandalous weekend of booze, flashing in the streets and pretty much all-out hedonism. The Southern Baptists hate it, so therefore it's a real blast for me and I try to attend each year. Besides, like I need a better reason to drink right now, I have cancer... So, back to the debauchery. Mostly, guys stand shirtless (and sometimes pants less) in the street at St. Ann and Bourbon, also known as the "Lavender Line", where all the gay bars are. Not just gays, but everyone loves to come through to see what kind of mess the drag queens, leathermen, bears and circuit boys all have going on in the streets. The two bars facing one another are called "The Bourbon Pub" and "Oz". They're really great clubs, but highly over-priced at night on holiday and events weekends. I don't really care for strippers enough to pay a $20 dollar cover, thanks.

See, it's a "gay" ole time!


So, we left on the Thursday before, with the impending storm headed to the same vacation spot and took our chances. It was my idea to leave on Thursday to miss the weekend's traffic and to give us a head start on the weekend. I needed it, so did my friends. We finally got on the road about 4:30p after a small chore of herding cats (literally) for my friend Ryan. He'd let his roommate's cat out and the damned thing took refuge under the new deck he had just built. Note to readers: a cold glass of water will help get a cat out from under a porch when you're rushed. The drive was long, a little bitchy, and man can those two eat! We arrived in New Orleans at about 1:30am local time and were exhausted. I got my own bed, WOOHOO!

The next morning we got up, went to the gym and had a nice breakfast.

New Orleans is a really unique city, it's one of my favorites. It also has the uncanny ability to allow people to drink more than they otherwise would humanly be able to. Shortly after breakfast, we started drinking. We drank, then we drank some more and then amazingly, we drank even more than that. After that, we drank a little bit more. My liver hurts just thinking about how much I drank, even though I really can't remember exactly how much that was. If my doctor is reading this... well... sorry.

New Orleans also happens to be a very friendly city and it's a good thing, cause I'd probably talk to a street sign after the amount of alcohol I had consumed that day. So we walked around, drunk, in the French Quarter ogling all the sites and watching the Southern Baptist torment all the guys who were confident enough to taunt them by feigning lewd acts in the street or other public displays of affection. It was a good day. More walking around, a little chatting with the locals and not-so-locals and we decided to go back to the hotel for a little disco nap. On the way back to the hotel, we noticed sand bags, some boarded up windows and lots of signs on ATM's stating that the machines had been emptied due to the hurricane. Even having been through hurricane preparation in several of other cities in which I had lived, it was still a bit frightening and made me uneasy. Plus, since we had been out getting inebriated all afternoon, we really hadn't seen much of the weather report. We had no idea the path of the storm was a straight shot right towards us and all the other folks who had traveled to The Big Easy that weekend.

So, we napped.

We went back to the hotel where we were staying and rested for a few hours and to let some of the alcohol process out of our system. After our catnap, we went back out to the Quarter (insert drank some more) and laughed it up till the wee hours of the night. Scott went back first (he has a small bladder) and called me shortly after getting back to the room to let me know that we'd received a letter from the hotel asking us to be out by noon the next day. Bummer.

So, after hearing that I had one more drink. I mean come on! We were leaving the next day - it was mandatory that I toast off the city. Then, I made my way back to the hotel. Gustav was predicted to hit New Orleans on Monday evening or early Tuesday and St. Bernard's Parish, the area of New Orleans hit the hardest three years ago by Katrina had evacuated earlier in the day. The hotel was making preparations, like the rest of the city, to be hit by another category 4 hurricane.




















On Saturday, the Mayor was on virtually every channel and the city made it's first evacuation preparations by asking the elderly and handicapped to get out on the first wave of buses transporting evacuees. People were taken to evacuation locations all over the city and in the surrounding counties. Thank God we drove. We packed up the car and hit the road about 12noon. Traffic was surprisingly steady, but it still took 2 hours to cross Lake Pontchartrain leaving New Orleans.

On the long drive home we all discussed our minor irritation and disappointment with the weekend and though I could say that my weekend was ruined I don't look at it that way. I could also say that my trip was a washout and be all negative about it. Truth is, I had more fun in the 24 hour period with two of my best friends than I'd had in months. As the city shut down and boarded up, we partied it up like a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah. I'll admit, I had a great time and I am not ashamed... The walls may have been tumbling down, but we were ready for it and when we had to, we packed it up and we left. No harm, no foul.

What did I take back from my Hurricane Hoedown? Well, I realized that we all need a little disaster relief from time to time. Sometimes in the midst of adversity, right when the proverbial storm seems the darkest, all you need is to let loose. And who better to do that with than two of your best (drinking) buddies. New Orleans may have been a poor choice for our Labor Day excursion, but we made the most of it. So thanks, Scott and Ryan. You were the National Guard that day. When Hurricane Geoffrey was spinning wildly out of control, you were there with your fatigues and your bullhorns ready to make sure the levy held. Luckily, it did and it continues to weather the storm that's raging in my lymphatic system. You made my weekend and though I missed the beignets and the pralines, I had a great time. Thanks!

Good night.

Entropy

Entropy is the concept of order dissolving to disorder in nature. Over the past few weeks, all order in my life has approached entropy. Life, in general, has sort of slipped past me and has cascaded into a huge pile of emails, unopened mail, unreturned voicemails, etc. Needless to say, a big pile of crap lays before me. Now, I am not saying my life is a big pile of crap. Not whatsoever. I'm merely commenting on the disarray of things in my life right now. It's doubtful that the "Big C" has much to do with it, but I'm going to apologize to you all for not writing sooner. I appreciate those of you out there who actually read this and have requested an update.

I just got back from a family vacation in Myrtle Beach. My neice, who just had a birthday, turned eight. Eight. The number that is basically the infinity sign turned on its side. After a few nights with an eight year old, I see where the infinity sign comes in... It's the reason behind their infinite bundle of energy. OH GOD, do you know what it's like trying to entertain an eight-year-old for three days? Let me tell you, I have a new found respect for babysitters and boy do I NEVER wanna be one!

Anyway, back to entropy... I am in the midst of trying to pull myself out of this abyss of disorganization and get back to me. The anal, over-organized, lining-things-up guy with post-its all over the place. So, that's where we are. Back to the grind of putting things back into their containers, clothes on hangers, socks in drawers and my life back to some semblance of order.

Wish me luck!

Disco, Divas and Determination

Dr. Evil. Was he really that evil? I'm not sure. Nonetheless, he stood for evil. So in my little snippet today, we are going to refer to the big "C" as Dr. Evil. Austin Powers was always fighting Dr. Evil and he always had a fun, gorgeous and kick-ass female heroin there to back him up. I have a few of my own, there names aren't as cool at Felicity Shagwell or Foxxy Cleopatra, but they are the heroins in my 70's retro themed battle.

Diva # 1:

My Mom.





This is her with four generations (my grandma, sister and neice)



I lucked out when it comes to moms. Now, I know you are all reading this saying, "My mom is better than or just as good.." Sorry to burst your bubbles, folks. My mom (and dad) drove into the eye of hurricane a few years ago to drag me back home during one of South Florida's worst hurricanes. Some call it insanity, I call it "My mom!". When I was in college at the university of NC at Wilmington, I was having severe roommate issues. Mom grabbed dad and drove 4.5 hours to help me move out secretly on Thanksgiving weekend while the roommates were all enjoying turkey and stuffing. We left them an empty apartment with nothing to sit on in the living room and no television (Moo-ha-ha). Fast forward to present day, my mom is my trusty sidekick through perhaps my most difficult "life speedbump".
Dr. Evil, quiver in your platforms!!

The Divas-in-training:

My sister, grandmother and my aunt have also been an overwhelming source of support, too. Anyone who knows me, knows that my family is really close. Dad, haven't forgotten you, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you! XOXO






Diva #2:

Betsy

My Physician's Assistant at Georgia Cancer Specialists, is also one of the "divas" in my short story. She works with my oncologist to help me sort through all this madness and mayhem. She is bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and a real joy to be around. She's helped make sense out of a lot of things and she's the one administered my bone marrow test, so that makes her one of the few women, besides my mom, who have even seen my butt. Thanks, Betsy! You're one groovy gal!



The Grand Damme Diva:

Dr. Weakland.

My oncologist, Dr. Weakland, happened to be on vacation over my last treatment this week, so I had to take her picture off the website. She's a real life miracle worker and I have to give her the credit to helping me get back to "my old" self. THANKS Dr. Weakland, I really owe you! Much like the other fabulous divas in my life, I owe a great deal of gratitude (one could say my life, actually) to Dr. Weakland and her team at Georgia Cancer Specialists. As far as kickass chics go, she ranks right up there with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You can see the obvious resemblance.


Dr. Weakland


















Thanks to all the fantastic people who have sent cards and gifts, emails and left voicemails. You are all very special to me and I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life. I will get through this. I leave you with one of my all time favorite disco anthems and my theme song through all of this. Look for me on a Friday or Saturday night and you just might catch me screaming it at the top of my lungs!




Go on, now, go! I WILL SURVIVE, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive!

Eye of the Storm

The wind just picked up here and lightning is flashing across the sky in billions of brilliant pulses.

A storm is coming.

I just got home from dinner with my parents. My mom, who has the nerves of cast iron, made the decision at the beginning of all of this, that she'd come to Atlanta (my family all live in North Carolina) for every treatment. I told her she might change her mind when gas prices get up to $6 or $7 a gallon. She's stubborn. Like mother, like son. We had a great dinner, gnocchi at one of these little French-esque cafes. The dessert was great, perhaps that is more because of the fact that I have my second treatment tomorrow and I know I won't be eating like that for a while Nonetheless, the chocoloate raspberry mousse torte was to die for. My regimen has been to stop eating around 9pm on the before my treatment. The last one went so well that I have to admit I have pretty high expectations for the second go around.

Guess I'll find out, huh?

Tomorrow, like two weeks ago, I'll go in around noon and the treatment should take about 2.5 hours. I hope my same nurse is there. She's a really good sport and humors my incessant line of questioning with the patience of Job. can I help it if I actually want to know a little about all these chemicals being so gingerly pumped into my body?! Well, maybe less of the "gingerly" and more like carefully. Anywho, a lot is going into my veins.

Back to dinner tonite.

I have been considering after all this chemo crap is over to get a new perspective on life. My entire life (even that one year of insanity in S. Florida) I have lived in the South. It's time for me to get a new view. Born and raised in North Carolina, then moving to Georgia in my twenties, a brief stint in Ft. Lauderdale and then back to Atlanta since 2004. My whole life has been spent in the South. Good ole' fried cooking, years of "please" and "thank you, ma'am", that ya'll's and the aint's... Really, I wouldn't have traded in my childhood, twenties or even the past few years I've spent in Atlanta as a thirty-something, but... There's more out there I haven't seen. A change of venue, something new, something completely different. That's what I need.

Movin' on up!! A la Weezy Jefferson and the gang.

Where will I wind up?? Who know's? All I know is I need to beat this cancer stuff so I can get on woth my life. More to come on my "change in venue", but it's coming. I want to leave all this behind me. Speaking of leaving, it's late and I need to get in the bed, I have a hard time sleeping some nights and I need to give myself enough time to get to LALA land.

I will close with this: A few weeks ago one of the personalities on my favorite radio station decided to separate from her husband. She is always one of those chipper, happy-go-lucky attitudes on the show that you can just tell has some kind of drama going on behind the scenes. Anyway, she decided to go sky-diving and the radio station wanted to air the jump. Before the plane took off and all the static and feedback started they asked her why she felt the need to do this. Turns out that her and two of her friends had put together this idea to "leave some things behind" when they jumped. Each of the three girls had there "baggage" written on a piece of paper which they were going to leave on the plane when they jumped. The theory was that the pieces of paper (the thing that wanted to forget) would be lost at 14,000 feet once they hopped out of plane. I thought it was very poignant and quite a way to cathartically purge themselves of these negative vibes.

When I am done with all this and I am finally cancerr free, I want to figuratively take that jump. I need a catharsis of my own.

The thunder rolls...

Back in the Saddle

Today was a GREAT day! I felt like a million dollars.. Went to the gym, second day in a row (thank you very much) and did some retail therapy. Shopping is what will get me through all this, you know. I am realising that chemotherapy will have its ups and downs, much like life, and it's gonna be up to me to go with the ebb and "flow". So, in going with the flow, I'll eat when I can (as much as I can) and when I can't work out, I won't. My friends and family are all still calling (keep those get well cards a-comin!) and I am very blessed to have such a wide array of people talkin' to the Big Guy for me.

Thanks. I repeat, THANKS!

Flow. It's really all about that. I'm keeping my eyes on the prize here. I recently read the book, "The Last Lecture", by Randy Pausch. If you haven't had a chance to read it, go pick it up, it's one of my picks (along with being on the NY Times Best Seller List). The author is a college professor at Carnegie Mellon University, a computer science professor who specialized in virtual reality. He also happened to diagnosed with ten tumors in his liver.


Flow. It's all about the flow.

In his book or really his "lecture" he talks about realizing your childhood dreams. The book is actually his "last lecture" on attaining your childhood dreams. Randy was asked, at a pretty poignant time in his life, right after he found out that he condition was terminal. He battled over whether or not to give the lecture, because at the time he had also just moved his family to Virginia so that after his passing his wife would be closer to her family. I can't tell you how many times I almost lost it while I was reading this book in the airport. While on a business trip to Houston, I picked the book up in the airport bookstore because the cover was cute. Little did I know this book would have such relevance to my own life (the cancer anyways). I don't intend to give away the ending, but go pick it up, it's a short read, but a great book.

Why do I bring up this book?

I want to end this post by restating something Randy put throughout his book. Paraphrasing was always my favorite part of English class.

"We don't get to change the cards we are dealt. Only how we play our hand."

Play your cards wisely and live your life the way you wold if today were your last.

Dream well.

One Down

Today was my first chemo treatment. I have to say, it was about a quarter as bad as I thought it would be, well, the treatment itself anyway. The clinic where I am receiving the therapy is located at Crawford Long Hospital here in Atlanta, a division of Emory Healthcare. The staff is overwhelmingly friendly, I attribute it to the fact that they all have some weird fascination with bald people.
The area itself resembles most any doctor's office, except they have exceptionally comfortable reclning Laz-e-boy chairs. Of course, the dead give away is that each chair is equipped with it's own nifty IV pump. The pumps are both battery operated and have a plug in the wall, lucky for me because I had to get up to use the restroom about every 4th minute while receiving the therapy.


Here's my dad reclining in one of the comfy chairs. He slept almost the whole time, so I don't know why he looks so unhappy- he didn't have a needle in his arm!








My nurse was very attentive. A few of the drugs involved in my treatment are "pre-meds". These are to help aid fighting nausea and to keep me healthy. All the drugs are administered through a port (a catheter) which is basically a gateway into my veins.

PORT OF ENTRY


My treatment itself is a combination of 4 drugs. The combo is known as "ABVD", which stands for the first letter of each corresponding drug administered:
Adriamycin
Bleomycin
Vinblastine
Dacarbazine
All of the drugs in my chemo "set" are forced into the catheter, meaning that they are not hanging bags like most drugs in an IV and for those of you who have only seen an IV on tel vision, I am hating you right now... The forced drugs are manually "pushed" into my body by the nurse. I'd be surprised if you haven't stopped reading by this point.

And that brings me to being nauseated. Sorry, I didn't say this was going to be a cake walk, folks - it's cancer. Again, here's that word "luckily". Luckily, with modern medicine and so many bulimics out there, pharmaceutical companies have come up with some AMAZING nausea medicines. Be forewarned, they AIN'T cheap, so... I wouldn't recommend binge drinking and asking for any of the stuff I'm on unless you have some extra petty cash. Most of the afternoon I felt a little like I'd eaten some bad guacamole and washed it down with sour milk, but that has subsided and allowed me to spend a little time with you.

I want to thank all of you reading this and let you know how much I appreciate your thoughts and positive energy. Only 11 more treatments to go!

Good night, X.