Monday, August 24, 2015

On coding, coping and hoping …

So it's been awhile since my last post and that probably has a lot to do with the fatigue and depression that set in while living on a 2 week cycle of chemo. I wrote this little dialogue to give others a chance to understand what chemo means to me.

Doctor: We think you'll be ok but just to be sure we want you to bang your head against a brick wall for a few months.
Patient: That will help?

Doctor: Well then we can be more sure you'll be ok.
Patient: But what about the headaches and brain damage?
Doctor: We can give you aspirin.
Patient: Thank god for modern medicine.

At my nephew's baptism
As I realized that the fatigue would not allow me to "fight" through the chemo the way that I wanted to, I decided to redirect my energies into re-learning how to program apps. Coding has been a hobby for me since high school and is an excellent way to focus and forget about my symptoms. Of course I am incorporating capoeira into my apps and I will have an exciting announcement soon.

After my fourth cycle of chemo I was still experiencing extended nausea and extreme fatigue. I was also facing 4-5 weeks of radiation in addition to the chemo. My sister Allison went with me to meet the radiologist who, despite being not much older that 16 was extremely knowledgable about my specific case. Because I have a very low probability of local recurrence (5-10%) they are allowing me to forego radiation and it's harmful side effects.

The last remaining hurdle to resuming my life is to meet with my primary oncologist and discuss how much more chemo is necessary. The normal regime is 12 cycles (6 mos.) though I am convinced that getting back in shape, eating healthy and capoeira will be more beneficial than additional chemo. More about this in my next post ...

Injecting myself through the port
So according to my sister Catharine, the best medicine I've received was the arrival of Stacey, my best friend and partner in crime. When you're an old, grumpy curmudgeon you don't really like to admit that you need anyone. But then you go and get cancer and you realize it's really nice not to be alone in this world. So without getting sentimental, let me just say how much my family, my son and my extended capoeira family have meant to me. But there is something special about that one special someone that knows your dark side and still loves you. I feel extremely appreciative.
A lighter moment at the movies


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