The fork in the road

Last Friday, Steve's port was removed. His little buddy who has been with him since this journey began was unceremoniously pulled from his chest. If you go online and google "power port", you'll find a lot of info about these things. Add "removal" to it and you'll find some surgeons who have blogged about the importance to the patient of having the port removed. 

It's a real tangible sign that the worst is over. And it should be a high point. 

But since that day, while he's doing well physically,  he's going through a tough time emotionally. I admit that I am unsure of how to handle the situation right now. I respect the way he feels: the colostomy has changed the way he thinks of himself and he feels that has substantively changed our relationship as well. I thought he would be elated to be cancer free and with the odds in his favor (70-30) that he can stay that way. But instead, i think he's dealing with some kind of survivor's guilt. And he's let this build up over the past couple of weeks until last night we just had a giant meltdown. And although I respect how he feels, I don't know what to say when I really want to say: Look how lucky you are! Enjoy what you've got and what we have rather than torturing yourself over the things you can't change. And yet, I know that even though I have walked this road side by side with him for the past year, I can't know how he really FEELS. It didn't happen to me. Just as - i guess - he can't know how I feel.

The bottom line is: I want to be supportive and help him over this hump. I just don't know how to do it. I didn't think there would be a hump here. If you know what I mean....

Why is this man smiling?

Because we just got great news from the doctor! The results of Steve's PET scan are clear so he's cancer free and we hope he'll stay that way. He'll get the port removed from his chest next week. That's always been sort of the big sign for us that this ordeal may really be behind us.

He had the PET scan about a week ago and, although neither of us was willing to admit it, we were both scared about the results... waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn't want Steve to know I was worried about it because he didn't seem worried and I didn't want to start him on that path. And he felt the same way. But when Dr. Stephenson walked into the exam room yesterday and pronounced Steve clear of cancer, we both let out an audible sign of relief.



We had a glass of champagne to celebrate - a big deal since we really don't drink anymore and I finally removed the LIVESTRONG support bracelet I have worn for just about a year. I always said I would wear it until this was behind us and last night, i finally felt it really was.

I don't want to throw this away; I would rather give it to someone else who can benefit from the strength of the message.


We walked out of the cancer center yesterday and Steve rang the bell (again!). He got resounding applause from the patients and caregivers. One of the nurses told us they had 90 people doing Chemo on monday. More than 400 people in a week.

Each and every one exhibits heroism. Few people I have met on this journey are grumpy or whiney or pitying. Most are upbeat and encouraging, many have faith to sustain them, nearly all have a loved one at their side. But each and every one gets up each day and says "No matter how crappy I feel, or how sick it makes me, I am not letting this disease get me." And they fight it with faith, with love, with good humor and above all, with hope.


They applaud when you ring the bell because you are an embodiment of that hope - another one who made it out alive. As we walked out, I couldn't help but think we should turn around and applaud them! Those who wait with just a hope to keep them getting up each morning.


I am not a relgious person, but God bless them. Every one.

Getting back to normal

I see it's been a month since I posted, and I apologize for not being more communicative. But you know what they say: no news is good news.

Steve is doing GREAT. He's been exercising and building up muscle (looks great!). That's helped him add weight and he's probably put on about 20 pounds. He's around 144-145 right now. If he can get up to 150, that would be great. His eating again and he has energy and a much improved attitude.

Life is returning to normal and cancer is less a part of our everyday existence. A sign of that occurred this week when we both FORGOT that he had an appointment for a blood test and port maintenance at the Cancer Center. We had dinner a couple of weeks ago with our friends Nancy and Chuck. Chuck had bladder cancer surgery just about two weeks before steve's surgery. We had an enjoyable evening with a lot of great conversation and NOT ONCE did we talk about cancer.

Those are good signs.

Last night we went to the symphony (Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue and American in Paris). Steve got all duded up (as you can see) and was clearly the best looking dude in the place. The week before we saw Smokey Robinson. An eclectic mix of entertainment lately. But I think I'm succeeding in expanding steve's horizons to include classical music.

So all is well. PET scan at the end of april will hopefully tell us there's no cancer anywhere else and then they will remove his port. I think for Steve that will be the sign that this is behind him.

For all of our friends, thank you for the support, caring, concern and help over the past year. I hope we will find a way to honor that and give it back to someone else who needs it - hopefully none of you guys!

Attaching a short video of Mr. Smooth putting his dancing moves on in the kitchen last night. As terri hovey will tell you, he LOVES singing and dancing in the kitchen!

Back on the Fairway

In more ways than one...

Again, I see that it's been some time since I updated ya'll on Steve's progress. I think that's generally a good sign. There seems a lot less to say when he's getting healthy than when he was so sick. His last chemo was just a month ago today.

It seemed a lot slower this time for him to recover than the first round. Probably only in about the past 10 days or so has he really started to feel significantly better and more like himself.
He'd gotten back down to about 125 pounds but as his appetite has recovered - including an unexpected passion for potato chips (in fact, i hear a bag rustling in the kitchen right now) - he's started to put on some weight. He was up to 138 this past Friday.

A lot of that also has to do with the fact that he's started to work out. He's lifting some weights - perhaps more than he should - and walking on the treadmill every day. For Steve, who has a metabolism like a hummingbird, it's the muscle mass that is the only way he can really put on weight. Now, I, on the other hand, was born without a metabolism. It's a rare and often misunderstood condition :).

Along with the workouts comes more energy. And it's all a nice little circle that comes down to him getting better and better every day.

Today we played golf. It's one of the things we love about living down here - you are just as likely to get a day like this - 65 degrees on February 3 - as you are to get freezing. Considering how little we've played since Steve's diagnosis back in April, we played pretty well. I shot a 90 (courtesy of four pars on the back nine) and Steve shot a 98. Not bad for the early stages of the year.

After golf, we went to Rafferty's - our usual Sunday-after-golf stop for some lunch and then home to crash with the dogs.

Tomorrow, we see the oncologist for a checkup and a blood test. But everything seems to be heading in the right direction and as soon as all the members of our family - Sable and Bogey - are recovered from their surgeries, we're looking to plan a nice vacation -- somewhere we can take the dogs, play golf, relax in the sun and have no worries.

Things seem to be looking up for others in our extended family as well: We were thrilled to get the email the other day about Marilyn taking some steps with a cane. Considering where she was just a year ago, that is a miracle. And one step closer to walking on the beach. Our friend Chuck has recovered pretty well from his cancer surgery and I hope we'll have some enjoyable evenings with him and Nancy now that we are all doing better.

I am hoping for a happy and healthy year for everyone and I think we're getting started on the right foot.

A Winter (?) Wonderland

Snow in SC? In nearly five years here, it's the first time I've seen it. The last time it snowed (about 3 years ago in our area) we were in Cancun! It's pretty though - and it melted fast!

Steve is starting to feel better. Even without chemo, for the past couple of weeks he's still been feeling pretty crappy, lethargic and not eating. The metal taste in his both has been the big problem in terms of getting some eating going on. But over the past few days, he's started to have a little bit of a taste for food and he's definitely developing an appetite.

He needs to get some food in his system so he can get some energy and start exercising and getting himself strong again. He's lost a lot of muscle tone and it's hard for him to get motivated - especially when he's here on his own all day. I'm hoping he'll start working out soon - that will both build his muscles and give him some positive energy.

I haven't updated much lately because things have been pretty normal. Just trying to get better and get on with it.

Ring that bell!

Today was Steve's last chemo treatment. As is traditional - at least at the Cancer Centers of the Carolinas - when a patient leaves after their final treatment they ring the bell and walk out to the applause and good wishes of fellow patients and center staff. Steve got a big hug (me too) from Marianne - the nurse who takes care of him each week. I had to take the photo with my cell phone because I brought our good camera BUT without the media card in it (!!).

There were some bittersweet moments today as I talked with some of the other patients who we see weekly and have struck up a relationship of sorts with. You are walking out - and you hope never to return - but you don't know what fate has in store for all the others you see each week.

The last treatment seemed to take forever. We were there for almost five hours today. But it was worth it to walk out with that bell ringing in our ears. We see Trocha (the surgeon) and Stephenson (the oncologist) next Friday for a checkup and go back in a month for blood tests and an office visit. But hopefully that's all on the downside of the mountain and this is behind us. We are ready to get on with enjoying life in 2008!