Grown Men Don't Cry and Have Jobs ...Well Most Do.

Fortunately, Faith was smart enough to obtain post secondary education. She first studied Early Childhood Education and later Office Administration. She has worked in both fields and enjoyed working with children the most.

She is going back to the working world come September 6th at a preschool nearby. We had planned for me to work and for her to follow her desire to be a full-time homemaker. But of course neither of us planned for me to get cancer and all the side effects that come with it and its treatment. Thankfully though, Faith has education and work experience on her / our side.

I happened to see a posting for the job, even though we weren't looking yet - we were going to figure things out after we knew how much care I would need through the fall. Faith applied and was offered the job beating out other candidates. The stipulation though was for Faith to be Myrtle's preschool teacher. The owner told Faith that that situation isn't ideal and Myrtle would be in another class if Faith wanted the job and then gave Faith the night to sleep on the offer.

The short story is that I wasn't comfortable with it and either was Faith. To me it just didn't seem fair for Myrtle to go from being with both of her parents each day to neither if there was another option. 

Right now Myrtle doesn't care how much money her parents have, rather how much time and love she receives from us - she gets a lot.  So, I expressed to Faith that there had to be another option and I knew God would answer my prayer over this. The following morning it came to me to mention to Faith that if her future employer had more information she might be inclined to make a different decision.

Faith called her and said something like "Thank you for the offer, but in the past year my husband has been diagnosed and treated for cancer and it made me realize how much my family means to me and what my priorities are. If I can't be with Myrtle I won't be able to accept the job."

Faith was thanked for her honesty and was told she'd think it over and call Faith later that day. She called Faith back and said she just had such a good feeling about her and would make an exception. Answers to prayers of course don't change another's will, like some type of mind control over another, rather one can feel inspired how to act or what to say to be bring about a righteous desire if it is God's will. Personally, I feel that was an answered prayer.

Myrtle being such a bright, smart, social and loving girl I have always felt that it's a crime if she doesn't spend the day with other kids giving them unsolicited hugs and getting outside to discover her world. I am so incredibly happy that she will have friends 5 days a week to play and learn with. Also, that Myrtle can be with her mother each day.

Myrtle giving her friend Lyla hugs. Myrtle prefers if they can't run away, like Lyla's brother Owen does.

Today the three of us popped over to the preschool to drop off some forms, etc. and to see how construction of the new preschool is coming. It was Myrtle and mine's first time there. I was so thrilled to see Myrtle over the moon with all the toys. Everything there is built for her size, her mind was blown. To see that there was a big yard for her to enjoy was a major bonus - kids need to go outside and get dirty!

While Faith and her boss chatted I watched Myrtle so content to be there. I couldn't help but wonder how different her days would been had I not been her advocate and piped up my concerns and prayed about what to do. Then the weight of Myrtle's new life soon hit me, Myrtle would be with her mom and friends and I would be left out.

I'm reminded of scene from a movie:

Ethan: Where's your dad?
Peter: Uh... no idea.
Ethan: When's the last time you saw him?
Peter: 1977. He had his bags packed at the door and he picked them up and put in the back of his car. And, uh, drove away. Last time I ever saw him.
Ethan: [begins laughing hysterically] That's so funny! My dad would never do that, he loved me! 

Maybe "left out" is too strong of a way to express the change, but it's how I feel felt. Being Myrtle's father has been my life's highlight, she is such a joy (incidentally Joy was one of the names we thought of giving her). After my diagnosis and spending most of my time home she has been a welcomed ray of sunshine. Literally no one but me and God know how much my role of being her father has kept me going. To all of a sudden to see her new preschool where she'd be spending her days crushed me. 

Seemingly out of nowhere Faith's new boss said to me "Any time you need to snuggle with Myrtle and say hi, feel free to." I smiled and said casually "Thanks, I think I will."

She and Faith kept talking and I turned around and tried to keep it together, keeping my eyes WIDE to avoid tears that found their way out anyways. I wiped those away. How could I have been comforted so quickly? How did Faith's boss just happen to weave that side comment there and then? Like I said, and I mean it, God knows how much my role of being her father has kept me going and I know I am blessed.

“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” 

~ Albert Einstein 

Neither Down or Out

Some people drift along like a cork on a river,

 feeling that they cannot do anything except drift, 

moment to moment. This is an attitude of mind. 

Everyone can be constructive even in tiny ways.

~ Bono

Most of my life I have heard people mock the idea that you can do anything if you put your mind to it. Yet they can watch TV and cheer "their team" to "give 110%" to win something shiny. Once I heard a parent tell their child to not bother with college unless they're a genius (WHAT!?!). People chasing their dreams and passions, really going for it is a punch-line for some. For others the mere mention of doing/thinking/voting/eating/accepting anything different is about as effective as speaking Chinese to them, unless of course if they do speak Chinese - then you might be getting somewhere.

There are lots of things I thought would work and didn't. Once I joined the choir in Grade 6 only to be humiliated by the choir director. "Didn't you audition?" she asked in front everyone. "I did" sheepishly I replied.  "Well, I don't how did you ever passed the audition." And I was asked to leave there and then. I can't begin to express the humiliation felt as I walked off the bleacher passing everyone and walking out alone. I was 10 years old. Lucky me had her for all of grade 7 too, an inspirational woman. No?

Even after that I really, really believed on several occasions I could sing. The verdict each time was reliving the embarrassment in Grade 6, but now I just say "Ya, ya, ya I know." I know and really do not mind. 

My heroes are the ones who survived doing it wrong, 

who made mistakes, but recovered from them.  

~ Bono

Twenty years later I even joined a church choir - just because. I heard no talk of excommunication to get me out. But come to think of it, no one ever asked me to come back when I stopped going. Hmmm....

Driving today with the windows down, I was singing at the top of my lungs with all the passion my inner-Bono could muster. I stopped at a red light beside to two cyclists and gave them a rendition to U2's One that may haunt them for years to come. I thought about being quieter, but decided that "One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should" was too apropos to not belt out. 

The right to appear ridiculous is something I hold dear. 

~ U2, I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight

There's no reason for me to not sing. I enjoy it and it hurts no one. ...Well, maybe their ears and good taste. But what other option does one have? Not give it my all? That's no way to live -  worried what others might think. 

I know dead 17 year olds that won't get buried unitll their 77.

~ Bono

My poor singing of course is a trivial thing. I'm sure I'd be a mediocre singer at best if I trained and put heart into the craft. But I'm only interested in singing along to my iPod and whomever has the misfortune of sitting beside me in church. 

Every day I die again, and again I'm reborn

Every day I have to find the courage

To walk out into the street

With arms out

Got a love you can't defeat

Neither down or out

~ U2, Breathe

Fortunately for my family I don't sing that loud every time U2 is played. In the car I was just happy, very, very joyously happy about this new chapter in my life. I'm excited about the future, learning and doing new things, providing for my family, being a father, meeting new people and singing new U2 songs. 

It's not a hill, it's a mountain

As we start out the climb

Listen for me, I'll be shouting

Shouting to the darkness, squeeze out sparks of light 

~ U2, I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight

Wrinkly, Balding and Gray Haired Friends

Last week some old friends came by, Mori, Russel and his wife Jenn (friend too). Faith asked at some point how we all became friends. The simple answer is we met at church. 

August 8, 2011

I met Russel shortly after I made the transition between fetus and baby. I have no recollection of not knowing Russ. We went to church, Cubs/Scouts/Ventures, grades 9-12 together and played hooky. We started really hanging out once I learned I could ride my bike to his house. We bonded over typical boy things like when we accidentally lit the side of his house on fire, threw his dad's records in a pond (when you have cassettes who listens to vinyl?) and slept in his tree fort the night before grad.

Mori moved to Victoria when he was eight-ish. I remember finding out Russ and Mori played together before I was included, I was devastated and about nine years old. Soon enough we all did things together. Mori and I went to the same elementary and junior high. We skipped skool, made homemade onion rings and like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles we took ourselves and our skateboards into storm drains with flashlights. I am not sure how our combined IQ did not compute how dumb that was.

The three of us made skimboards. I still remember being the only ones skimming at Witty's Lagoon and people asking us about the boards. We camped, canoed, got in car accidents (those darn deer, eh Russ?) We dated and married each other's girlfriends/crushes, I though rebelled and married outside our circle.

Of course there were other friends. Why they're friends with me? I'm not so sure. There was more than those three that we grew up with, but why are we three still friendly? Is it Facebook? Familiarity? Curiosity? Nostalgia? I can't speak for them, of course. For me to not  be friends or friendly with anyone, let alone those I grew up with, they'd have to really, really not like me because I like or tolerate everyone.

One of my life defining moments was being diagnosed with cancer. With Russ being a cancer survivor I called him ...a few times. He always answered and calmed me down. We live several hours away, but see each other whenever we're in the same town and have time.

What about Mori? First I should note his fantastic wife Marnie has fed me and now us for years. Like any real friend, whether I see Mori, whether once a week or once a year there's no awkwardness. When I got the diagnosis, Mori dropped by with a hand written letter, the one any decent human being thinks they should or wished they had written at least once in their life to a friend.  Mori actually did though.

Among many things, his letter reminded me of what Neil Young sang...

One of these days,

I'm gonna sit down

and write a long letter

To all the good friends I've known

And I'm gonna try

And thank them all

for the good times together.

Friendship can be a rare and fickle thing; especially as we age and hopefully become more discerning. As a boy if I had a bike and a kid on the same block had a bike, we were the best of friends. Truthfully, on the surface that does seem to be true with "men" in their thirty's who are still playing video games; or women with babies the same age; or me with anyone that will play Scrabble with me (Anyone? Anyone? ...Anyone?).  

However today, as an adult, what friendship means is different, at least to me it is. I'd rather have one Mori dropping by with a letter, than a hundred people asking Faith when they bump into her "How's Ruban? Tell him 'Hi' for me." 

Of course, having a friend is being one and to answer Faith's question Mori and Russ are one to me. Perhaps I too will, one of these days, sit down and write a long letter to all the good friends I've known, but for today this blog will have to do.

New Years Eve 1990 - Russ' basement
Russel, Ruban, Mori

This Is Starting To Get On My Vagus Nerve!

One of the side effects of radiation on the bowel area is διάρροια, a Greek word meaning "flowing through". Germans say durchfall. Our Icelandic friends use the word niðurgangur. In Swahili they call it kuhara.  While the French say la diarrhée. 

When I was a little boy I told my Grandma Myrtle that I was sick, she asked if I had "the trots?". Not knowing what the trots were, she said "You know, you trot back and forth to the bathroom, a lot." This past week I've trotted more than a pony show. 

We had a camping trip planned with our friends Devon and Sarah at Horne Lake Caves, about 3+ hours up island. On the way there I made an emergency pit stop in the town of Lantzville. A tip for my fellow travelers thinking public restrooms exist there, nope. Their gas station, no. Clinic, no. Plaza, no. The local karate dojo, "So sorry". Post office, "You're not using ours, employees only!" The local gross, old dirty bar? Yup. It was a type of an oasis. I was able to take care of business in a dark, dank, cramped stall on a wobbly throne. Meanwhile, Myrtle got to play in their back parking lot in front of the liquor store, happy to be stretching her rolls legs.

We left Lantzville's watering hole and made it 2.3 km to their volunteer fire department. No one was there, but they had some bushes in the back that could use some "fertilizer", they were in luck and so was I. 

Back in the car, I was unsure whether to drive home or to the camp. Not wanting to give up I continued the drive. Arriving at the camp I quickly visited the outhouse, and a few bushes. The pain level was above and beyond anything I have ever felt. I have had a car run over my right leg. My left foot with 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degree burns. Broken my left arm once and my right arm twice. Smashed my face on pavement in a roller blading accident. These did not compare.

2006 Roller Blading Accident

When we arrived at the campsite a woman was there with her twenty-something daughter. We explained that she was in our campsite. She reluctantly accepted the reality. As she drove away she drove over some of our luggage too, wrecking two suitcases and some the contents. I do think it was an accident. 

Meanwhile, it felt like I was about to die and I actually thought I might. Perhaps I might write on that another time, the thought process. I called Sarah and Devon to let them know I was off to the hospital. I then called 9-1-1. All I remember was being impatient with the operator. After the call I lied down in the tent, then I went off to the bushes again. I remember thinking that I felt like how an animal might as they go alone into the forrest to die.

The next thing I remember is being in the ambulance and for a nanosecond I wondered if I was on an alien ship. I then recall talking to the paramedic about plasmacytoma. After that I remember Myrtle briefly being on top of me at the hospital. 

When I really began to be awake I was moving from the gurney to the hospital bed. My "room" was just curtains and I could clearly hear my neighbors. One, a foul mouthed alcoholic, he left later in hand cuffs with the R.C.M.P.  He was replaced by a female who tried to kill herself with pills. Other neighbors included someone hacking up their lungs behind an oxygen mask and a confused old lady with a broken pelvis. Between my new friends chatter and the blood pressure cuff on my bicep that went on automatically every 15 minutes I was wide awake. 

When I saw that it was 11:25p.m. I was shocked at the unaccounted time lost. It seemed like moments ago I was setting up camp. My flip flops must've have flopped off, so a nurse gave me some booties.

After the the foul mouthed alcoholic left, Myrtle and Faith came to visit me until the doctor arrived. Myrtle did fantastic, as usual, especially considering she was not in a child proofed setting and in the middle of the night. I blew up some rubber gloves for her, those were a lot of fun, but not as mind blowing as a tissue box.

The doctor eventually came in and I had to explain plasmacytoma to him (you know it's a rare cancer when...). He was kind and explained things well, doing an equally thorough job checking all my vitals. After he left I was given a blood test and a take home stool sample kit.  

I'll try to sum up what the doc said. We all have a vagus nerve that goes from the brian to our bowels or uterus. When there is extreme trauma to that area the nerve sends a signal to the brain to slow down the heart. That is done for self preservation, so that the brain has enough blood. The consequence can be knocking out the body unconscious, to reserve strength. And that is what happened to me. Also, I was dehydrated and malnourished. 

When I trotted into the woods I collapsed. My trauma was the radiation's side effects. I don't recall very much so I've to asked Faith to write something, here's her version of those lost hours.

Ruban, Myrtle and I arrived at our campsite, #47. I should mention that where we parked our car was on a hill and our campsite was below us at the lakes shore, so we needed to keep an extra eye on Myrtle.  We started unpacking our fully loaded vehicle, then setting up our tent and mattress. I asked Ruban if he would watch Myrtle so that I could let him  rest and I would bring everything down to our camping spot.


Ruban then told me "No, I can't." He was in too much pain. For those of you who know Ruban, Myrtle means everything to him and he always does what he can to support me as her mother. So him saying no, I can't, really shows just how much pain he was in.


He then goes up to the car to grab his phone, Myrtle and I head up the hill to start the unpacking the rest of our car.


Ruban says to me, "We need to go home" bursting into tears because of the pain, "I 'm so sorry!" I told him not to worry about it. He apologized a couple of more times after that. I told him to stop saying sorry. 


With Myrtle not able to walk down hills without support, I grabbed her and started packing up our car.  Ruban then says to me,  " I think I need to call the ambulance"  I look at Ruban and give him a hug. Truly sensing just how serious his pain was.


I started rushing to pack the car. Ruban said that I didn't need to worry about everything that we would have someone come and pick up the rest of our stuff. I didn't know what to do. I didn't emotionally prepare myself for this moment. 


Ruban then "trotted" back into the woods. After a few moments passed, I checked the time on  his cell phone, 8:05pm. By now, Myrtle was getting hungry and needed a diaper change. As she's eating I hear this yell,  I thought maybe it was Ruban, but it could also just be the other campers nearby. Not wanting to believe what might have happened.


I put Myrtle in her car-seat to breast feed and she soon fell asleep. I checked the time and it was now 8:25pm. Ruban still had not returned. I was worried.


One of the Horne Lake workers comes by with a clipboard, I thought that he was probably just looking to be paid or something. 


I was wrong.


Finished feeding Myrtle, I come out of the car. The worker says to me, "Is everything ok?" I replied "Yes, I was just nursing my daughter." 


He says, "There's an ambulance here." 


"Oh."


"What happened?"


In shock, what I said next didn't make sense. "My husband has cancer, plasmacytoma. He had to go to the bathroom. He had a bathroom attack."


I run over to the woods, calling for Ruban. No answer. I call him again. No answer. Now I'm scared and worried. Where is he? How are we going to find him? 


A young girl comes out of a trail in the woods and asked me, "Are you looking for a tall guy?"


"Yes."


"About this big?" Showing his height stretching her arms high.


"Yes."


"He's sleeping and he's over there."


I almost didn't believe her. I ran to were she said.


I find Ruban on the ground in a fetal position. He looked dead. "Ruban! The ambulance is here!" He didn't respond or move. When I saw that his eyes were open I knew he was alive.


I ran to the ambulance and said that he can't get up.


The paramedics, came out and I ran over to Ruban. They were both female and Ruban probably had about 80 to 100 lbs on them. So how were they supposed to lift Ruban, I wondered. Not saying that females can't lift heavy objects, but Ruban's 6"3  and 205 lbs. At best of times, I can't get him to budge. 


As the paramedics and the two Horne Lake workers attended to Ruban, I ran to the car to check on Myrtle. Feeling torn, I needed to be with Ruban to comfort him and I needed to watch Myrtle who is sleeping to keep her safe. I was by myself. I wasn't about to ask other campers who I didn't know or trust to watch my daughter. "What do I do?"


One of the Horne Lake workers, called me over and said that the paramedics needed some information. I ran over and answered some typical questions, like where we lived, etc. 


When a paramedic was asking Ruban what his name was, he didn't answer. I said his name. 


When I was asked where we lived, I said Victoria and then Ruban piped up saying "Langford." In between all of this I checked on Myrtle without leaving Ruban.


One paramedic went to get the stretcher. Meanwhile, Ruban all of a sudden sits up and then falls over. When the paramedic brings the stretcher over, they start getting Ruban ready to go on the stretcher. Ruban says to me "Let's go" meaning back home, I say "We can't, you need to be taken care of."


The paramedics ask the Horne Lake workers to help move Ruban onto the stretcher. They start strapping Ruban to the stretcher and he says "I don't know you" referring to the paramedics. I say to Ruban "It's okay, they are helping you. It's Faith." He started crying and said  "I love you." I say "I love you too" and give him a kiss on the head.


As they start lifting Ruban up and he says "I want to go home." I tell him again that we can't and that he needs to get help. He replied that he wants to talk to Myrtle and that he's thirsty.


I run to get him some water and say to the paramedic, he's thirsty. But they don't give him any water.


Ruban's all ready to go to the hospital, he tells me once again that he loves me.


At this point I didn't know where to go. I catch up to the ambulance. Feeling scared and worried, wondering how would I find the Nanaimo hospital.


Once on the highway, the ambulance speeds up and I no longer see the flashing lights or hear the siren. I turned on my hazard lights so people would let me pass them letting them know that I was having an emergency.


One person went in front of me.  Frustration came over me. "What the heck! What are they thinking?" I calmed down and say to myself, "Drive safe, Myrtle doesn't need two parents in the hospital."


I make it to the hospital. I went to the main entrance. LOCKED! I go to emergency entrance and I find Ruban. I ask how he's doing, the paramedic said that he came to in the ambulance. The paramedic then said "Ruban your wife is here." He didn't respond. I then said, "Ruban, Myrtle is here." He reaches out his hand to touch Myrtle.


He wants to hold Myrtle and tried to lift her up and says help me. I help him and Myrtle is on him. Myrtle cries and wants to come to me.


I later find out from Ruban that Myrtle saw someone behind him and it frightened her. Probably the yelling alcoholic man. 


God works in mysterious ways. With last night's experience the weight of Ruban's diagnosis of plasmastoma finally really hit home with me. I truly feel that Heavenly Father put this diagnosis in our path to help Ruban and I. Last night, I felt as if Ruban and I were on the same page with a few comments he has made in the past. Before when Ruban stated those comments, I would just nod my head and give him a hug and try to offer some words of comfort. Not understanding the full weight of what he was saying. Without knowing it, I was VERY naive. 


Since last night, my eyes were opened. Following the ambulance, I really felt the seriousness of Ruban's diagnosis. I prayed, "Please don't let him die, please don't let him die!" I then remembered one of Ruban's many wise words to speak in the positive. So I then prayed, " Please let him live." I was feeling what someone might be feeling with a death bed repentance. Once again I felt that life can change in seconds. 


With this experience I am feeling the blessing of it. "It" being the unity with Ruban. Feeling that I now have a better understanding of Ruban and what he has and does feel with his journey.


With all of this said, maybe in my next prayer I'll ask, "If it's possible to find another way to help Ruban and I become closer, other than an ambulance and cancer, I will run to it with open arms."

Jump to Conclusions Blog

If my memory serves me well, it's been a long time since this has happened. If my memory doesn't serve me well, there's no need for you to think that this is about our conversation about that thing. 


In the Oscar (snubbed) movie Office Space, a side character Tom Smykowski, has an idea...


Tom Smykowski: It was a "Jump to Conclusions" mat. You see, it would be this mat that you would put on the floor... and would have different CONCLUSIONS written on it that you could JUMP TO.
Michael Bolton: That's the worst idea I've ever heard in my life, Tom.
Samir: Yes, this is horrible, this idea. 

I personally think it's great idea for a game. Michael Bolton and Samir jumped to the wrong conclusion. Why? The game is played in real life all the time. I too play the game, maybe even more than Scrabble. Unless you're brain dead, you play too. (Arhg, I jumped to a conclusion again!) Try not to play, you can't. Sometimes the conclusions aren't super positive, sometimes they're indifferent, rarely are they accurate. 


So let's play, I'll start. This is only an exhibition, so please no gambling.

• Just because I don't like country, it doesn't mean I don't like Johnny Cash.
• Just because you watch (insert sport or tv show), it doesn't mean everyone else does (you are the minority, do the math).
• Just because I try to eat organic, it doesn't mean you need to defend why you don't.
• Just because you watch The Daily Show or Glen Beck, it doesn't mean you or them are right.
• Just because I don't own pets, it doesn't mean I hate animals.
• Just because you drive a truck bigger than you need, it doesn't make you bigger in any way, whatsoever.
• Just because U2 is the best band in the world, it doesn't make all other bands irrelevant, just most. 
• Just because I'm wrong, it doesn't necessarily mean you're right. 
• Just because we go to different churches, it doesn't we believe in different Jesus'.
• Just because I'm 6'3", it doesn't mean I play basketball.
• Just because I was diagnosed with cancer and I'm at a party, it doesn't mean it's a party topic.
• Just because it didn't work out for you, it doesn't mean it won't work for me.
• Just because you were offended, it doesn't mean you should be.
• Just because you don't like me, it doesn't mean I don't like you. I like pretty much everybody.
• Just because I didn't vote for your political party, it doesn't mean I hate the one you voted for.
• Just because Oprah is on the cover of O magazine, it doesn't mean anything, nothing at all. Zero.
• Just because you didn't laugh, it doesn't mean it wasn't funny.
• Just because I'm bald, it doesn't mean I wish I had hair - I don't. 
• Just because you're right, it doesn't mean they're wrong.
• Just because I didn't laugh, it doesn't mean it wasn't funny.
• Just because you heard from a friend, it doesn't make it true.
• Just because there are explosions, it doesn't mean there is a story line.
• Just because I blog, it doesn't mean it's about you.

For kids wanting to play at home, now's your turn!

Just Because, The Game©

I̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶N̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶B̶l̶o̶g̶ ̶A̶g̶a̶i̶n̶

Driving with Myrtle and Faith yesterday I said "I know it's cliché sounding, but I really look at the world differently since being diagnosed with cancer."

Faith replied, "What's the best part of that?"

"That I now look at the world differently."

Partly what prompted my comment was some crazy driver in the other lane, she wasn't driving super crazy, just too crazy around my family. It seemed like all the other cars on the road were a bother to her. We, our car and the others on her road, were just getting in the her way. How dare we!  What were we thinking?! 

If present day Ruban met up with not so long ago past Ruban I'm not so sure what we'd have in common. On the surface we'd be identical, our love for swimming, U2, Mexican cuisine and ice cream would be the start of a beautiful bro-mance. But after a few man-dates, we'd drift apart with him seeming crude, and me sounding like a prude. Present day Ruban felt sorry for the crazy driver, being so wound up. Not so long ago Ruban might've honked and glared at her as she whizzed past us. 

Yes, looking at the world is a different experience for me. If fatherhood and beating cancer in the same year doesn't shift ones focus, maybe nothing will.  

I did end my last blog ahiptumor.blogspot.com. I was tempted to write in it more, but I just wasn't the same guy inside who started writing it. Reading from it felt either foreign or too emotional. 

For kicks I now blog the dreams as I remember them and when I have time to type them out youwereinmydreamlastnight.blogspot.com. Most comments about that blog have been unfavorable. What can I say? I guess my dreams are less interesting then a me dying a slow death.

Today I had my follow up appointment at the BC Cancer Agency in Victoria, BC. They had me fill out a questionnaire. Then a med student came in, Jack, and he asked me the questions I just filled out on the questionnaire. Then the real doc came in, Dr. Wai, and she asked me the same questions. She felt my throat and arm pits for lumps. Then she felt my back and my tummy. After she put on gloves and probed deeper. Do I send her flowers, or does she send me flowers? Either way, I'll be getting an appointment card within three months to for fluid sample and a CT Scan. In between now and then some physical rehab is on the agenda.

For those who care or are g̶o̶s̶s̶i̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ writing fan-fiction about me might be interested to know that I'm off my crutches (hopefully for good) and I'm still healing. I had a lot of radiation, literally the med student's eyes popped out and jaw dropped when he heard how much. Hopefully Jack can learn what a poker face is, it's less jarring on the patient and families nerves. The oncologist today did say I statistically have 50/50 chances of survival. Clearly she doesn't know me. Upon further thought, she should be sending me flowers.

I don't mind people asking me details, if they really care and aren't just curious. There's a HUGE difference between a friend caring enough to ask how my family is and/or doing something thoughtful to lift our spirits than bumping into someone who says "Uh, I heard from ______ you have cancer, what does it feel like? Well, if you need anything let me know."

I've only shed tears twice since my last blog entry. Both sound like pity parties, but only one was. My pity party was a Sunday morning waking up to no one home. I was too tired and sore to attend church with my family. Knowing their lives go on without me triggered some tears. But life must go on and it does. Thank goodness!

The other teary time was the night before. I went out in the rain to the market on my trustee crutches. As I entered the store and my feet were on the carpet and as my wet crutches hit the shiny floor they slipped from under me. Steadying myself strained my hip where the tumor i̶s̶ was. 


Later as I laid in bed hoping to sleep trying to ignore my fresh injury and the radiation side effect of feeling the need to pee when there's nothing to pee. Frustration set in. I realized no one really cares. 


Now, of course people do care, I know that. But it was 11 o'clock at night. Do I call anyone that said to me "If there is anything you need you let me know." "Hello, yes it's Ruban, 'member how you said if I needed anything? Well, I'm having a hard time relaxing because it'll feel like I would pee my bed if I do, logically I know that won't happen. ...BUT it would be great if you could tell me a story to take my mind off this faux full bladder feeling and the reason why I have these side effects so I can sleep and wake up and spend time with my daughter when she is awake." No one really cares that much. Unless you pay them. And that's okay.

It wasn't a "Woe is me." Just a wake-up call. Some parts of life, struggles and victories are just meant to be me, myself and I. We three knew there would be a time when my cancer would be old news to people. Friends and family now call less as life is normalizing*.

I don't want to talk about it all the time either, or blog it. So, in the meantime I'll blog about this and that. ahiptumor.blogspot.com is retired, by default I'll write about life as a c̶a̶n̶c̶e̶r̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶v̶i̶v̶o̶r̶  guy thriving post cancer treatment.

*Wasn't sure if normalizing was a word until I typed it. It does sound a little made up, no?

P.S. If you read this far I might as well say how I'm doing. I'm doing good, life is uneven and complex at times, but I'm doing good and look forward to having a clean bill of health.