Tom Smith
©2007 Thomas G. Smith
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Blogs from previous
months here. February-March-April 2007
Cancer Blogs Latest: Posted
April 23, 2007
Posted March
8, 2007
Posted February 8, 2007
We’re nine months into the battle
with cancer now, and one thing I can conclude for certain is that it is
tiring. There was a lot of adrenalin flowing back in the summer and early
fall as I underwent my 35 radiation treatments and seven weeks of
chemotherapy. We never stopped long enough to get tired. It was a struggle
then to maintain equilibrium and continue to eat as those treatments did
their work. I dropped close to 40 pounds, which wasn’t that bad since I had a
lot of weight to spare. During that time I took my tests and went into
conferences with a surgeon to see if we could operate and end the contest,
but there was no luck there. I have had to be satisfied with a “draw” wherein
the shrunken tumor is not growing and may even be inert, but it is still
there. As we watch and wait, I have my appetite back. No type of food is safe
in my presence. The downside is that after a wonderful period when there was
no pain in the area of the cancer, the pain has returned. Since it cannot be
blamed on growth of the tumor, it is likely to be internal scar tissue
stretching and mending, or it could be my damaged ribs trying to heal.
Whatever, it is an aggravating fact of life to live with. I am now using
hydrocodone again, albeit sparingly, and my general practitioner has fixed me
up with a prescription strength naproxen (Aleve) that really helps. Between the pain and the
drugs, I get really tired by the time afternoon and evening roll around. I
walk outside for a cooling blast of frigid air once in a while, but my times
of late nights watching movies or television or simply reading are a thing of
the past. Considering that lung cancer
is nearly always terminal, it is almost laughable—and maybe not a good
thing—to be so concerned about my energy level, but doggone it, I don’t think
I’m old enough to be nodding
off at my work station in the afternoons! I should, perhaps, be more
concerned about my future down the line. I don’t worry about it too much. I
have been much benefited and greatly lifted up by the prayer of my friends
and loved ones. It is good to know that I am on prayer lists around the
country and that many people care enough to think of me during their daily
conversations with God. In addition to prayer and good
medicine, life itself is offering way too much of interest for me to spend
much time contemplating death. Every Tuesday evening I am privileged to visit
with my Atlanta grandchildren while their mother and grandmother go to an
evening class. Our wonderful grandson in Mexico is muy guapo and
nearing his first birthday, and I’ve been lucky enough to visit him in
Guadalajara. I have delighted in watching my daughter Taylor progress very
positively with her first pregnancy, the baby anticipated in early April. The
other day I went with her to the doctor’s office and got to see first-hand
those amazing sonograms that show my next grandchild’s spine, kidneys,
beating heart, bladder and stomach so clearly while denying this untrained
eye any hint of his or her gender. I have a lively grandson walking, talking
and growing like a weed in Chicago. My oldest grandson is having a great time
studying at Penn while his brother tears up the sporting world in high school
in Spartanburg. And there is the step-granddaughter marching with the band at
Clemson University. Through all this happiness we
are ever reminded that life and death go on, sometimes not at all mindful of
our own desires. In the most recent Parish Post, I wrote about our
friend Pam Spikler. She was a wonderful friend and schoolteacher. She was a
wife and mother. She had two great daughters and one granddaughter. She and
her husband retired at the same time and were prepared to have a long,
delightful retirement traveling and enjoying their children and
grandchildren. Then pancreatic cancer came calling, and Pam was taken from us
at age 62. She enjoyed her time, Lord, and surely she made her mark not only
with her own family but with hundreds of second-graders who came through her
classrooms over time. Lord, more time would have been good for her and for
us, but it was not to be. I am surviving to enjoy all
this thanks to God and to your prayers, but I will never forget how my wife
and life partner, Teresa, has supported me through all this—especially when I
moan and groan and sometimes forget to get on with enjoying life. She’s why
I’m still here and will be for a time to come. There’s too much to do to stop
loving this life just yet. Posted March 8,
2007
We have nothing new to report
in the way of tests or major changes in the cancer. I still have a good bit
of pain in the shoulder area. I got my hopes up a little when Dr. Simpson, my
general practitioner, noted my shoulder-pain symptoms and decided I might
have a rotator cuff tear or some other strain in the shoulder ligaments completely
unrelated to the cancer. Though a rotator cuff injury undoubtedly would
signal the end of my major league baseball-pitching career, I would have
gladly received confirmation of this diagnosis. At the ripe old age of 64, I
don’t have that many innings left in the old pitching arm anyway. I’m not
Satchel Paige, after all. An X-ray, however, blew the bubble. While it shows
there is no cancer running loose in the shoulder joint, there’s no rotator
cuff damage, either. Too bad. I was beginning to become accustomed to the
exercises prescribed as physical therapy. The X-ray did show arthritis in the
joint, so I will consider that the likely source of the pain and go to work
on it. I have joined a yoga class. I never thought those words
would stream out of my computer, but there you are. There is a small yoga,
chiropractic and high colonic studio/clinic in my neighborhood, and I’ve
taken to the mat as a yoga beginner. Thinking I’ll save the chiropractic and
high colonic stuff for later, for now I am a beginner learning just how
difficult yoga can be as an exercise. It is slow and contemplative, but when
the 70 minutes are done, you’ve had a workout! It seems to help the shoulder.
I have read in many places that people have successfully used yoga in pain
management, so I think it is definitely worth a try. It is a small world. Beverly,
my yoga instructor, is an émigré from South Africa. Dr. Rosenbaum, my
radiation therapist, also is an émigré from South Africa. I know that the
turbulence in that tortured country was really tough a decade or so ago, and
I regret that so many people felt they had to leave. In the cases of Beverly
and Dr. Rosenbaum, however, South Africa’s loss is certainly my gain
personally. From cancer to the (hopefully) funnyMoving completely away from
cancer stuff for the moment, the recent meeting of the Anglican
Communion’s leaders in Tanzania got my attention. Those who know me also
know that my feeling is that God is with us in what we do most importantly at
the parish and diocesan level. I view national and global Church politics
with the attitude of an old American who remembers the American Revolution
from history and has inherited and nurtured that rebellious streak where
foreign powers are concerned. Things might be a little
different for a while. Some of our bishops have asked for “oversight” from
beyond our shores. This first goaded me into a completely tongue-in-cheek
essay on how a partial merger with the Roman Catholic Church might solve a
lot of problems and salve some hurt feelings. For your consideration and
hopefully a smile or two, that essay is linked here. After hearing that our own
diocesan bishop, the Rt. Rev. Neil Alexander, was recommending that I have my
head examined, I came up with a much more serious take on the events and the
communiqué coming from the Anglican “primates” meeting in Tanzania. That one
is in the upcoming Parish Post, and it is also linked here. Let me know what you think.
Meanwhile, at the bishop’s suggestion, I am adjusting my medications! Posted April 23,
2007
As I told Teresa, it is a good
idea to wear a figurative bullet-proof vest when going to visit Dr. Goldberg.
I was ready last Friday when I drove over to Cumberland to go over the
results of my April 12 CT scan. He had already sent me a laconic letter
saying that the tumor was “progressing somewhat” and that we would need to
resume chemotherapy. So it was that the cancer has had a spell of rather
dramatic growth. I have now filled my anti-allergy and anti-nausea
prescriptions and am ready to go. I await word from Kaiser’s Cumberland
Infusion Center as to when we will start. Dr. Goldberg said that my regimen
this time would be to get treatment every three weeks. It will be the same
drug combination as before, but of course in a higher dosage. I will
experience more hair loss this time, he said, but so what? I’d taken the
initiative a long time ago to start buzzing my hair down to the length left
by a No. 1 blade guard. If I lose
body hair, there’s plenty to spare. I recalled a conversation
months ago with Dr. Rosenbaum when she said she could see the possibility of
resuming radiation therapy if needed. I asked Dr. Goldberg about that, and he
called her on the spot. She said that the most effective thing to do now
would be to reduce the size of the tumor with chemotherapy and then employ
radiation. She would like for it to be reduced to two inches or less. Right
now it is over five inches, so this does not seem impossible. I would like to
radiate it. The more weapons, the better. Dr. Goldberg reminded me that
he does not hope for a cure out of all this, but more containment. Of course
he has been telling us from the beginning that a “cure” is not possible, so
this is not news. My
best hope is that we are continuing a cycle of growth, containment,
shrinkage, repeat. That’s what one does with a chronic disease, and I am
prepared to go along with that as long as possible. If there is any good news in
all this, the source of my constant upper chest and shoulder pain is
explained. It is the cancer on the move. If we can achieve a reduction, then
the pain will be reduced. That would certainly be welcome. Dr. Goldberg is blunt about
most things, but of course he does not wish to guess at any kind of time
frame as we play out this hand. He says that as long as I’m not losing weight
and my activities aren’t restricted, he’s not worried too much that the end
might be near. I am, in fact, gaining weight, so I think I’m ready for this
round. I don’t walk or exercise as much as I would like, primarily because it
hurts to do so, but I don’t feel overly restricted. We thank you for your prayers
as we continue the fight. To be continued… (If you wish to correspond via email, please use this address: * Long as I can see the light… The words below come from “Long as
I can see the light,” written by John Fogerty and first appearing on the
Creedence Clearwater Revival album, “Cosmo’s Factory,” in 1970. If it is possible for anyone’s cover of this song to beat CCR, it
would be the version by the late Ted Hawkins, recorded on his 1994 album,
“The Next Hundred Years.” Put a candle in the window, 'cause I feel I've got to move. I'll be coming home soon, 'cause I'm bound to drift a while. 'cause this feelin' won't leave me alone. 'cause I feel I've got to move. I'll be coming home soon, John Fogerty |