Another Anniversary

We just passed another anniversary.

October 8th, 2003 - Seven years ago from the 8th, I went into the ER with severe abdominal pains. We ended up staying in the ER for about 16 hours, and that includes being moved to another hospital where my doctor at that time had admitting rights.

October 9th, 2003 - Seven years ago from that date, I had an emergency surgery for the severe abdominal pains. It was a three hour surgery and I woke up with an NG Tube, a temporary ileostomy and about a 10 inch scar running down my stomach, and what eventually became a fistula.

It would be a few more days before we were told I had cancer.

I still believe I shocked a few people when I walked out of that hospital, and even came back a few weeks laters. I'm sure there were some who believed that I would probably never leave that hospital alive.

Not only did I walk out of that hospital, I'm still alive, 7 years later with a lot of life lived during those years. I believe our goals should always be to prove the doctors wrong. :-)

Roni's Musings and Reporting

Kevin's last posting (let me just say, what a man!) reminded me of a poem I discovered early on in our Journey:

What Cancer Cannot Do

Cancer is so limited . . .
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot invade the soul.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.
It cannot lessen the power of the resurrection.

~ Anonymous

I posted that same poem to this blog in November 2003. At the time, it was an inspiring ideal. Now I understand that cancer tries to do many of these things, and will, if you give over to it.

Though Kevin's been a bit rawer and more transparent than I, we tend to post here when we've come out on the other side of challenges. But I'd hate to give the impression that we haven't struggled with the "demon" that is cancer and the "personal demons" that rise to the surface when one faces difficulties. But through it all, I've seen Kevin -- and felt myself -- upheld by the foundation of our faith and the loving hands of G-d. Sometimes it has felt as though we were in free fall, but never as though we'd fallen into an abyss. Through grasping (sometimes after grappling with) the truths that G-d has lovingly revealed through scripture, we've always come back to that foundation with fairly soft landings. I am so grateful for the truths that have guided us, and the Hand that has held us. I'm so grateful for support from so many people G-d has used to help us in so many ways. A long-time family friend put it beautifully when he said, " With [Kevin and Roni] we can be only thankful for all of the helping hands--social and medical. With them we rest in Him Who only has unfailing, heavenly hands.”

So, that's the musings part of my posting. Now on to the reporting part.

I realized from some comments we've received that many people equate hospice with very final "deathbed" stage of deterioration. Let me assure you that Kevin is not an invalid. Hospice can be involved early on, as soon as one chooses to discontinue treatment, and that's what we've chosen, in order to enhance Kevin's quality of life. For example, a good hospice will advise on the appropriate amount of activity and exercise to keep the patient strong and limber without taxing their reserve. They may teach therapeutic massage to deal with aches and pains from a more sedentary life. etc. The point is that Kevin is still mobile, still has his wits about him -- though he needs a bit more help with remembering words and editing when he writes than before. He's lost some weight and he sleeps more -- about 40% of a 24 hr. period -- and rests a lot while awake. But he also has moments when he's feeling pretty well and continues to help out with light household chores, runs short errands, takes Elke out, and cracks me up with his quirky wit on a regular basis.

"You Beat This!"

Now before you all get excited from the title of this post and think that the cancer is gone -- it isn't -- let me tell you why my oncologist told me that the cancer didn't beat me, but that in fact, I beat it.

Those who have been following my blog for awhile will know that part of my original diagnosis is what is referred to as "Signet Ring Cells." It is important to know this because some of the doctors that we have met did not believe us when we told them I had Signet Ring Cells (SRC). One doctor said I probably misunderstood, because if the Oct 2003 diagnosis of SRC was correct, I would not be alive today. A couple of doctors even insisted on doing their own pathology reports to prove me wrong. You see, SRC is the more aggressive of the colorectal cancers; and people diagnosed with it usually don't make a year. As for me, tomorrow will be the 7th year anniversary of when I went to the hospital complaining of severe abdominal pains. Needless to say, for the past 7 years more than one doctor has been stumped as to why I am still alive. It is also needless to say that we believe the reason is answered prayers, aligned with the Will of G-d, and for whatever reason, He has decided to keep me around. Just by staying alive for seven years, I, beat the standard prognosis.

In those 7 years I have had 5 surgeries related to cancer, been septic, had numerous rounds of chemo and 5 weeks of radiation, weeks of recovering from the surgeries, learning to deal with an ileostomy for 9 months, the side effects of the chemo and radiation, countless blood tests, and I can't even remember all of the CT/PET or just CT Scans. So while, yes, I have survived the cancer, it has not been an easy road, and I have the scars to prove it. Both emotionally and physically. Every scar I have is another reminder that I beat whatever this cancer could throw at me.

Let me take this opportunity to say that because of the success of those treatments, I have also had the opportunity to enjoy life. Roni and I have traveled twice to Israel with good friends for the Bar Mitzvah of each of our Rabbi's sons. We've been able to take vacations in Arizona (one of our favorite states), The Bahamas, Jamaica, the Florida Keys, Vermont, a week with Roni's and my parents in Virginia, a week long cruise in Alaska with my family, a week in the Wisconsin Dells with my family and just recently, two amazing weeks in Australia where I was able to reconnect with old friends and show Roni where I grew up during my high school years. And I celebrated my 50th birthday in New York with close friends. So, in continuing to enjoy life, I beat cancer.

I've also been able to help others who have been diagnosed with this disease through our on-line support group and through this blog, and please G-d, may they continue to help others even when I am no longer able to contribute to them. Which brings us to the reason for this post.

Yesterday, Roni and I met with my oncologist. The same person who just 2 weeks ago told us what our options were. She asked if I had made up my mind about what I would like to do. I had made my decision. After much thought and prayer, discussions with Roni, counsel from trusted sources, I had made the decision to forgo any further treatment and start with home hospice care. The doctor understood the decision, and explained how home hospice would work and how things would now progress.

Last night I spoke to my family to let them know of my decision. My sister asked if they gave me an expiration date  :-). With a chuckle, I said no. None of us really know how long I have. We believe that with people's prayers and G-d's intervention, I have already lived longer then any of the doctors have thought I likely would. I know people will continue to pray and we believe that G-d will take care of things in His timing. So we are going to leave those details in His hands.

As we were getting ready to leave the appointment yesterday, the doctor looked at me and said (I didn't have a tape recorder on me, so I'm paraphrasing here), "Don't think that this cancer beat you. You have lived longer than anyone would have thought. With all of the treatment you had, you had probably 80% of that time as good quality of life. And with all the people you have helped with your support group and blog, don't think for one minute the cancer has beaten you. In fact, You Beat This." I know that I didn't beat it alone. I had a "band of brothers" to fight beside me (I wrote about my team here), and we believe most of all, G-d fought for me.

Choosing hospice doesn't mean I'm laying down and giving up. I'm expanding my team to include the expertise of hospice care in order to achieve the best possible quality of life I can. We continue to pray for a miracle, and I plan to live each day enjoying life as much as possible. I want to spend time with family and friends. And I will continue to give my support where it is needed, my advice when it is asked for, and my wisdom for what it is worth. :-) That's why I won't be removing the phrase, "So far I'm winning" from the heading of this blog page. G-d is in control, not cancer, and that means that even if G-d does not perform that miracle, cancer still doesn't win!