A Different Perspective

I just came across this article which provides a different perspective.  It is from a oncology nurse that was diagnosed with colon cancer.

https://www.yahoo.com/news/oncology-nurse-diagnosed-cancer-writes-203228585.html

The original blog post:  https://herecomesthesun927.com/2016/11/14/dear-every-cancer-patient-i-ever-took-care-of-im-sorry-i-didnt-get-it/

There is one paragraph towards the end of the article best describes what I have been experiencing.

“Yes, there are phases — the treatment won’t last forever, but you are changed now... The worrying won’t stop, the uncertainty won’t stop, the fear of recurrence or an awful end won’t stop. I hear that gets better- time will tell. And time is precious...”

Banana Avocado Spinach Sandwich and Sweet Potato Pie

I got a call from the Oncologist yesterday requesting that I double my dosage of Potassium.  For the last two months my blood tests have shown low levels and their concern has rose to the level of a weekly sample of blood.

The remedy is the potassium supplement, increased consumption of Powerade and increased intake of food items with high potassium.  Bananas are the common recommendation from the nursing field and my wife.  The root of the problem is that I have a huge dislike of bananas.

During my college days, I worked in the produce dept. at Lucky Markets.   Being low man on the totem pole meant I was tasked with stocking the banana display.  In those days, bananas came in boxes wrapped in plastic wrap.  The plastic wrap accelerated their ripening.  During the summer days I would load up 10 boxes on my cart, trudge out and proceed to open the boxes one by one.  As you lift the cardboard top off you start getting a whiff of ripe bananas, as you remove the wrap, you get hit with blast of the fragrance of ripe bananas.  Multiply that by two when you have over ripe bananas hidden inside.

It wasn't until about 10 years ago that I started eating banana baked goods.  In agreement with Gayle, I will start incorporating bananas into my diet.  It only took 40 years.  And she says I'm resistant to change.

Misc. Notes:

Darrin and Rachel broke the Wada 5th generation male domination.  Nephew Darrin and Rachel welcomed Eleanor Etsuko Sera into the world on Nov. 27th.  Auntie Gayle is elated to finally be shopping for a girl?  But she asked if white or pink was preferable.  What happened to t-shirts and shorts?  Warning, start buying Hello Kitty stock.

You look Marvelous:  Despite feeling yucky at best at times, the comment I get most is that I am looking good.  The direct opposite of what I see in the mirror in the morning.  I look like Frank Barone when I go out to get the morning paper.

I Miss the Cold

The chemo infusion as stated before has a side affect in reaction to cold.  Grabbing cold shopping carts, opening refrigeration units at stores, walking outside at night.

The worst part is craving cold foods and drinks.  I'm still craving ice cold cokes, ice cream, cold left overs.  Case in point we recently brought home a leftover tuna sandwich.  In order to eat it, I have to pull it out of the refrigerator, remove the lettuce and tomatoe to microwave, wait for the lettuce and tomatoe to cool to warm to room temperature or play Russian roulette with the microwave.

I have learned to keep a bottle of powerade next to me in bed under the covers to keep it Luke warm. Room temperature is still too cold.  Even asking for water at restaurants without ice comes too cold.

The urge for cold often overcomes common sense.  I order before realizing my error in judgment.

So here's looking forward to next March. Cold weather or hot, I'm going for a coke float.

Comfort and Joy

Just when I start feeling comfortable with the process of dealing with stage 3 Colon cancer, I get hit with accounts of others that had stage 3 and 4 and did not survive.  It becomes more apparent that is the example of what it means to persevere.  It not only is the physical and mental aspects of surviving surgery and chemo, but also the emotional toughness to continue when there are overwhelming accounts of folks that have not survived.

The guilt factor has not taken hold of me.  I know of too many folks and friends that have been taken way too early.  There should be some bit of contemplation of why am I still here.  I still have my hopes for the future, more grand kids, hope that both Gayle and I are healthy enough to reach retirement and beyond.  These are assumptions that I will be cancer free and nothing else will pop up.  But we all know life does not always deal those cards.

So the search for the joy continues.  It may seem obvious for some, but I am still struggling with it.  My earthly joy is my family, which often can obscure the need for spiritual assurance.  My health issues have exposed that void.  I now better understand the need of spiritual assurance during times of doubt.  I am still working on the heavenly joy.

Thanksgiving will be at home.  Low white cell count and other blood factors limits my exposure to people who might be sick.  Jared came home only to be exiled to the Merit house with Judy and Cliff.  He is recovering from a cold.

Happy Thanksgiving

Round 5

There remains an unpredictability in the chemo therapy process other than its effectivity.  For the second time, the infusion for round 5 has been postponed one week due low white cell count.  It's bothersome in that it not only pushes out the chemo process window to Feb., it affects thanksgiving.  Chemo is now scheduled for Tues. of next week.  They moved it up one day to give me a little more time before Thanksgiving.

The effects of the infusion is worse the week of the procedure, especially the first three days.  I still have not resolved the nausea and daily vomiting.  Eating is not the worse part, not feeling well and fatigue is.  Therefore we are adjusting our Thanksgiving plans to be determined on how I am feeling. But it will be good to have #3 home for the weekend.

As you can tell sleep issues continue.  Late night, early mornings are prime time for web surfing, thinking and frequent relief visits due to my increased intake of fluids.  Blogging becomes a little more challenging with the one finger typing on the IPad.

Tina to the Rescue

On a previous post I had shown a picture of the pill bag Tina made for me that I carry around religiously.  It was a more masculine version of the borrowed one she made for Gayle.  The morning after posting my adventures with nausea I found a package on my doorstep.  Apparently the Japanese have products that deal with this sort of problems.  They are bags from Daiso that are used mainly for bodily function disposal.   It is a bag with gel to absorb liquids and neutralize odors. They include a bag to dispose of the inner bag.

Leave it to the Japanese to invent the product and leave it to Tina to find it.  If you ever have been at Daiso, you know it would take a few days of searching to even come across the product.  That does not include picking it up, reading the instructions and understanding the translation.  My backpack, car and jacket pocket now have them ready for use.

I did meet with the nurse practitioner this afternoon and we are trying some alternative and additional meds to eliminate my daily visits.  I am a little more understanding what women go through when they are nauseous during pregnancy.  It is the female friends that offer suggestions of dealing with the nausea.  The slightest smell, position or taste can set it off.

 

For the life of me, I can't remember how to spell nausea and it's various versions.  I need to go back and edit check my previous posts for the spelling errors and spell check that inserted other words in it's place.

Update:  Tina says it is in the travel section at Daiso.

The Porcelain god

Subject Warning: Vomiting

I have inherited an intolerance for alcohol from my father.  I can tolerate maybe one or two sips of beer before I start feeling sick, and it would not take consuming the whole bottle to induce vomiting.
This creates problems of various proportions.  At one time I was thinking of joining a group dealing with Businesses in Japan.  As most know, socialization based on alcohol after hours is a requirement.  Not to mention my dislike for the taste of most alcoholic beverages (beer and wine in particular, sake being the exception).

I have adjusted by not participating in most social activities where alcohol is involved.   This is not the main reason for my anti socialization tendencies, but a factor.  I don't mind other people drinking, and my family members have not inherited the trait.  So it is not unusual to find beer or wine in the house.

All of this leads to the porcelain god, the toilet.  On our honeymoon, the hotel left us a bottle of complementary champagne.  I took two sips and ending up the entire evening in the bathroom.  Gayle on the other hand ended up ordering room service and enjoyed a nice meal.  I assume it was very nice from the charge on my bill.  From that point on, I avoided that experience other than due to illness.

With Chemo, especially this latest round (round 4)  I have found myself meeting the receptacle about twice a day.  Our visits are unpredictable and usually short in duration.  But what has come out is not one would expect.  I never experienced the pleasure of vomiting water before.  I do take anti nausea medications, but for some reason I assumed it would eliminate the nausea.  It lessens the affect and produces some unexpected side events.

Usually after my visit, things calm down and within an hour I am settled down.  Lately the visits have been late at night or early morning causing disruptions in my sleep patterns.  I have been learning the early signs that I might require a visit, but am being proactive in always carrying a bag with me (I wonder if Amazon sells airline barf bags).

So if you see me suddenly excuse myself without saying anything, you can guess what may be occurring.  Thanks for your understanding and willingness to allow me to discuss the subject.

Support

Gayle gently drove me to an introductory cancer support group meeting this evening.  She had gone last week and decided it would be good for me to attend.   Remember me mentioning that often she has these ideas that are good, but difficult to implement?

So what is so difficult to implement here?  Let's list the issues, I am a guy, who is not very verbal in person, who does not freely express his feelings, privately or publicly, who tends to be anti social in nature.  What can go wrong here?

The support groups are designed to give you a perspective of you are not alone.  Their goal is to get you into groups that are targeted for your type of cancer.  This doesn't sound like that bad of idea does it.  That is the problem.  My normal George says, don't do it,  my conscious George (Gayle) says it would be a good thing to do.

As you may know, as I age, normal George's won loss record is slanted to the loss side.  Conscious George (Gayle) has been gaining steam and winning by large land slides.  But normal George still has that inborn stubborn streak.  As we can tell by my medical history, that stubborn streak probably contributed to the bypass surgery and late colonoscopy.  Conscious George (Gayle) has been running at about 95% correct.  I reserve the 5% for the margin of error and preservation of my ego.

So you get this feeling of where this all is heading.

Update: Round 3

White blood count came back up and round 3was administered.  This time around I have immediately
felt the side effects.  I'm a bit unsteady (shaky) even when I'm walking.  My new tradition with the start of each new round is a bowl of chicken pho.  As I began to eat my soup, I had visions of my dad in his later years shaking as he ate.  I'm sitting there trying to lift the plastic soup spoon with my hand shaking and mouth vibrating out of sync with the hand.  To make things more difficult, I was unable to enjoy a glass of lemonade and soda (similar to a Lemon Squash drink in Japan) or a lettuce wrapped egg roll.  Even taking the three chemo pills after dinner was difficult.  As I'm sitting here, I feel a very slight vibration throughout the body.  I can't  figure out if it is a cumulative build up from previous rounds or the two weeks off due to the low white count.

Perspective check:  I recently read that it is increasingly possible to live to 115.  But I just may have a better understanding the inevitable degeneration of our bodies as we age.  I should repeat that even in a crowded waiting room, I am still one of the youngest there.

Update:  short term memory loss.  I keep forgetting to run the faucet until the water warms up when washing my hands.  Cold equals fuzzy electrical sensation on the skin.

Batter Up

I have a habit of waking up late and then head out searching for breakfast.  Every once in awhile I end up at McDonalds for an egg mcmuffin.  It became a watershed moment when the server automatically announced that she was giving me the senior coffee.  Wait a minute, did I ask for  the senior discount?  Then I looked around me and noticed that everyone there were on the grey side.  Apparently weekday mornings at Mc Donald's are a key time to find seniors.  I humbly accepted my senior coffee.

Humility tends to come in bunches.  I was confident about starting round 3 of chemo.  I had my routine down.  Schedule in the late afternoon, request a ride to get there, dress warmly with long pants, bring my backpack with all the essentials (iPod, headphones, iPad, books).  I get called in to get my blood tested, then stroll in to select and settle into my recliner.  Methodically positioning myself near an outlet and a view out the window.  Then comes the news that my white blood count was too low and that my treatment will be postponed for another week.  I pack up my stuff and shuffle out the room.

It was like being called to pinch hit in a baseball game.  Getting your name called By the manager, selecting your bat, warming up in the batters circle taking practice swings in sync with the pitcher.  Strolling up to the plate, settling in and ready to take that first pitch when you are called back to the dugout.  You can tell I watched a Dodger game tonight.

I was told that this was not unusual.  Apparently chemo does reduce the white blood count, and they did not want it going lower, increasing the risk for infection and the ability to fight back.  But this pushes back my chemo schedule another week to end in late Jan. This pushes chemo into Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It never occurred to me that there would be setbacks like this. Other than altering my calendars. It pushes back the goal or light at the end of the tunnel. Or as Gayle puts it, someone is trying to teach me something but i just don't quite get it.

Hello Kitty.

One of the byproducts of cancer treatment is the ability to manage the multiple perceptions from the various doctors.  Timing I found to be the critical factor in how well you adjust to the Meds.  If I take the anti nausea meds too late, it diminishes their effectivity.

In order to manage the timing I use my phone alarm and calendar, while toting around multiple vials of prescriptions.  A friend had made a little tote for Gayle that was just the right size.  The only problem was that the design was somewhat feminine in nature.  Being classified as a senior and the reduced capacity to be embarrassed, I carry it around with me religiously, plopping it down on the table in front of me at restaurants.

One day as I sat by myself with my drug tote, I realized how strange it looked.  I  took the photo and requested a more masculine design.  My request was more of a desperate plea with a concession that a black Hello Kitty was acceptable.  Tina within a day delivers a Star Trek themed bag with a hidden hello kitty patch inside.  I now maintain my masculinity by proudly carrying my new bag exploring new worlds where no man has gone before.  Thank you Tina!!

By the way the Wada clan welcomed another boy, congratulations to Kerri and Josh on the birth of Luke !!!

How You Doing?

The question I get more often is how I am doing.  The lady who I banned from editing this blog suggested I describe the process I am going through, then how it affects me.  Hmm, not bad coming from the side lines.

You will read some repeat information.   Like two weeks after my colon reduction surgery (my description, it has been reduced by about 33% by surgically removing the affected regions) I started my Chemo Therapy regimen of 8 rounds.  Each round lasts 3 weeks and starts out at the oncology office with an IV infusion of a strong Chemo drug I have a hard time pronouncing.  This process takes about 3.5 hrs where I sit in a reclining leatherette chair with my reading material and iPod.

The side affects if this particular drug is tingling of the finger tips (sometimes toes) and a weird reaction to cold.  I have been told not to open a refrigerator and to wrap up warmly including the neck and head for a few days.  If i had to describe the sensation when exposed to cold, it is a fuzzy, semi electrical sensation.  If I eat, the first bite results in pain to my jaw joints, then somehow disappears for the rest of the meal.  I avoid cold drinks, especially ice for about a week.  When I use the facilities, I have to run the water until it gets hot before I can wash my hands.

Following the IV infusion, I am allowed to eat but within 20 minutes of the meal I start taking the Chemo pills (3), twice a day for two weeks.  This takes bit of coordination and discipline (uh oh) as one of the side affects is nausea.  I time the nausea pills just after my first bites to lessen the taste of the pills and to give it time to settle in before I take the Chemo pills.  The side affects other than nausea is fatigue and irregular sleep habits.

It becomes a vicious cycle when you take the pills, get tired, take a short nap, wake up for a short time and repeat the cycle.  There is some doubt from the side lines about my sleep habits as they are similar to what I was experiencing at the hospital.

After the two weeks I take a one week break.  Part of that week is consumed with my body gradually expels the Chemo pills.  That leaves about 2 to 3 days of feeling normal just before we start over with a new round.  They send me a new perscription with each round, therefore I display my pill bottles to remind me of which round I am currently in.

Looking ahead, this puts me on schedule to end Chemo in mid January.  Round 5 week 2 ends the day before Thanksgiving.  Round 7 starts just before Christmas.

Appetite wise,  I can eat anything.  But as stated before, I have no cravings.  Put me in front of food, it will disappear quickly which would explain why I have regained 10 lbs.  I do miss our visits to Kansha for Ice Cream, but like Pavlav's dog I have been conditioned to avoid it.

The other aspect they don't really address is how to juggle the doctors and any conflicting orders.  Oncologist, Cardiologist, Nephrologist, Surgeon, and their various staff and nurses.  I find the Nurses to be the most helpful in advice as they often suggest the non pharmaceutical options based on experience of dealing with numerous patients.

The other repeat observation is that I am still on the young side.  Walking into the waiting room gives me a jolt of the fountain of youth, but acknowledging that age may be a factor later in life.

Once I reach January, it will still take a year to fully recover and that depends on test results to verify Chemo was effective.  Five years before you are considered "cancer free".

Hope this puts the process in perspective.  Of course there is a disclaimer that this is unique to my  situation, stage 3 colon cancer, chemo therapy that is designed for my situation and my irregular disposition.

Safety Net

My Safety Net goes back to college this weekend.  He has been shadowing me like his brother did when recovering from bypass.  Only I could probably sneak out without him knowing it, but have gotten used to him just driving me around.  I am more agreeable to being dependent these days.

I have made comments on how aging has progressed and shown up physically.  The other age factor is the maturation of the 3 sons.  Jeff turned thirty last week.  My youngest can drink legally and today is Jordan's 28th birthday.  He is number two.  I'm always amazed at his willingness (or naive) to try things.  Not too many people would plop themselves in France for School without any knowledge of the language.  Or move to another state to start Law School.  Thankfully Auntie Phyllis was there to provide some assistance and the knowledge there will always be a meal waiting.

I was hoping to be more descriptive on the process of going through Chemo, but have not been able to express the experience yet.  It is usually confined to I'm doing OK, nations and tired, with little appetite.  But that does not really give the reader a grasp of the experience. I am hoping that one of these late nights it will hit me and come pouring out.  You can tell It's late in the morning and I'm listening to a Bee Gees PBS concert in the background.

I have heard many stories of folks that have bouts with cancer.  Some are positive, some are not so positive.  Every time I have come to the point where I am sure I will survive this, a news report or a casual remark will bring back the reality that death does occur.  Eventually.  But as a friend has put it, it is not my time.  That is my safety net that I am clinging to.  Hope in that it is not my time yet.

2am

Today marks the end of the first week of Chemo round 1.  To refresh, the Chemo course prescribed is 8 rounds of IV infusion followed by two weeks of pills plus one week of recovery.  I feel tired  nautious, and am kind of in a wierd physical state that is hard to explain.  I have no cravings for the food I dreamed of in the hospital, what I eat just doesn't seem to matter much even though I can eat just about anything I want.  Come to think of it, the only craving I have is for the ume onigiri at. Nijiya.

To put it all in perspective, my sister in law died of breast cancer over 16 years ago.  Her Chemo was more potent, and racked her body tremendously.  She was courageous and you never quite understood what pain she was going through.  She was so strong.  What I am going through is not even close.
Here is to Erin's memory.  We miss you.


Old man cranky complaints:  Why am I paying for cable to watch infomercials on ceramic pans and air fryers on multiple channels late at night?  The answer is;  How to tighten crepey skin.  Yeah, losing 30 lbs. has left me with the old person's body.  When I flex my muscles, the muscle droops and skin looks like crepe paper.  And I thought thinning hair was bad.

Chemo notes:  No sign of losing hair.  I have developed the coping system of Cutting it short, don't look too closely, and keep in denial.  The disturbing side affect is not the hair loss, but the thinning of the hair.  How am I supposed to recognize if my thinning hair is due to age or Chemo?  Time to check out the air fryer.

Step 3

Step 1:  Colonoscopy, Step 2: Colon surgery, Step 3 Chemotherapy.  Sitting in the Chemo room today, observations have shown that cancer is more common than i assumed.  When you start counting the number of people in the large waiting room and the number of patients getting treatment next to you times 3 treatment rooms you begin to understand that the war on cancer is still waging.

Other than being on the younger side, there were still some even younger.  Cancer may increase in odds as we age, but is still indiscriminate in type, gender or stage of life.

I came across these two articles published in the Chicago Times on the reporter undergoing a colonoscopy and reader reactions.  You can scroll down for the original publication.
Did you schedule your colonoscopy this year?

http://www.chicagotribune.com/suburbs/post-tribune/opinion/ct-ptb-davich-colonoscopy-follow-up-st-0817-20160816-story.html

I Looked It Up on YouTube

YouTube has been great when it comes to diagnosing and repairing the car.  It always amazes me that folks are willing to impart their knowledge of the obscure every day solutions.  It finally came down to figuring out how to remove my wedding ring from my overgrown knuckle.  One would think that losing 30lbs would reduce the size of the finger.  While I have gained senior skin that tends to drape from my skeletal structure, the fat around the ring finger has not diminished.

The nurse tried in vain to remove the ring before my heart surgery.  She finally gave up. Something about metal and surgery don't mesh well.  This time the surgical staff didn't even to make an attempt and insulated it with tape.  Thoughts of my ring shorting out a surgical tool through a bolt of static charge in the middle of the procedure came to mind.  I finally looked it up on you tube.

I had the choice between the Windex (original blue formula with Amonia D) soaking of the finger and the technique of unwinding a ribbon tied tightly around the ring finger.  Both seemed feasible and easy.  Being the engineer (by the way, nurses for some reason know when they are dealing with engineers) I decided to try method B.  After numerous attempts using different types of materials, I decided soaking the finger in chemicals didn't sound so bad after all.  So much for empirical experimentation.

OK, since both failed, and a few phone calls to local jewelers on their capability to cut off the ring and the cost to repair seemed a bit.......   destructive.  It didn't seem quite right to saw through a symbol of our eternal love, while sweeping up the left over shavings.

Desperation (vs. logic) sometimes results in a simple solution.  I did both.  I pre soaked the finger and borrowed a wider ribbon from Gayle's craft stash.  The ring indentation in the circumference of my finger is still visible and we won't  mention the farmer type tan it left behind.

Why the story of removing the wedding ring?  I'm not comfortable without it.  I am finding it difficult to resolve my feelings of starting Chemo without it on my finger.

Chicken and Suits

I am in the recovery mode, meaning I am still healing from the surgery and still on a semi restricted diet.  I am often left with watching tv at odd hours, which have been filled with the Olympics.  After five years, I am still watching the Popeye chicken lady and updated and more slickly produced Hollywood Suit ads.
 
I have been blessed to be the recipient of many prayers and support during this experience.  The most memorable visit was from my 91 year old aunt who came to visit me in the hospital.  She walks in with her walker, looks at me and asks what is wrong with me.  That was a highlight of my stay.

Chemo starts next week.  I have no idea what to expect since everyone reacts differently to the meds. And we all know how I do in normal circumstances.  A port is being inserted on Monday, Chemo 101 class (my title) on Tues. and then round 1 starts Weds.  I did see the surgeon today and he has confirmed that I am doing well in the healing process.  My diet is unrestricted (but not according to Gayle).  I did have my first Peets coffee this morning in two months and still feel the caffeine affect. Im sure I will be up late tonight watching chicken and suits commercials, planning to fill my craving check list this weekend and yes,  Popeyes is not on the list.

Ir-regular

My stay at Torrance Memorial was an extended one, due to unforeseen complications of my recovery.  Regular patients for this type of surgery expected stay was 3 to 5 days.  I was delicately told I was not regular.  After I started digesting soft food and was swiftly released.  It was a strange feeling of being doted with attention for so long, then exited with silent efficiency out of the building.

 During those two weeks, I had the privilege of receiving care from a great staff of nurses and nurses aides.  If there are any parallels between my heart surgery and colon surgery, it was the tremendous care I received from the nursing staff.

I am now on a soft diet.  That means I eat things that are easy to digest and chewing thoroughly. It expected that it will be a month before I can eat the items I have been craving including that ice cold Coke.  The only good news is that I am restricted from raw vegetables and salads.

Today was filled with appointments with the Oncologist and Gastrolologist.  Chemo is being scheduled and long term colon screening planned.  The sobering news is that without Chemo, the chances of cancer returning is 50%.  With treatment, it is reduced to 25%.  I am thankful for the two doctors giving it to me straight. Those odds are slowly sinking in.   I should be looking at 25% as being in my favor and irregular patients seem to defy those odds.  Lets hope irregular translates into improved odds.

Progress

I spent the last 4 days with a tube stuck down my nasal cavity, throat and stomach removing all the residual fluids that was causing bloating and nausea.  It was not fun.  The main problem was that it limited my mobility.  I had to have it disconnected to go anywhere, making the bathroom breaks more of a timed event vs spontaneous.  I have a habit of awakening at odd hours and going for a walk around the halls as they chase me down to secure my gown from the back.  I'm at that stage where it bothers them more than it bothers me.

They removed the tube last night with the hope of further progress with a bit of jello.  And all I can think of is Chick Fil A chicken salad sandwich, chicken noodle soup and lemonade.  Thank goodness it is Sunday and they are closed.

A Place Where Everyone Knows Your Name

I am approaching two weeks in the hospital.  It's been so long that I am recognized by the staff as they rotate through their 3 days on 3 days off schedule.  The digestive track has not woken up to be fully functional.  There is some concern that they may have to go back in with a camera.  This is in addition to the various X-rays being taken everyday.   That also means that i have not taken any fluids or food for over a week.

The bright side? My condition is not degrading.  My major problem is that I am thinking of food.  In Boy Scouts the boys on the week long hike in the wilderness would talk about their favorite food and eateries.  I'm doing that now.  Pho,  chicken tacos at Toms, bento boxes at Home Kitchen, pollo Saltado, chicken kabobs fro Al Hamra,  my brother in law's bbq, the list grows daily.  The one consistent craving that carries over from my bypass is for an ice cold Coke.

Thanks to all for your prayers and support.  It is greatly appreciated.

You Look Mar-velous!

Well it's 6 in the morning and I just took 6 laps around the place and am wide awake. The morning of my surgery I went to get a haircut since I was overdue.  Therefore after the surgery, everyone who has seen me here or on FaceTime say I look good.  It is usually a look of surprise.  Apparently the last time I looked not marvelous.

Well the other side is I don't feel marvelous.  The first night was due to the pain and my foolish resistance to pain killers.  My friend (Dr.) Perry convinced me otherwise.  No pain is good after all.

Day 2 was terrible.  They let me to eat my clear liquid lunch.  I spent the rest of the day and night regurgitating the lemon ice, grape juice and chicken broth in painful small amounts.  I am going through the process, slow process of awakening the bowels to let the food pass through.  But I'm sure that is more info than you want to know.

On the lighter side, if you remember a previous post on legacy Wada puns,  this is from my cousin Jon.  Since they took out part of my colon, I now have a semicolon!

The Funeral will be on July 19th

We all have those moments where it just comes out wrong.  Gayle was trying to tell someone when my surgery has been scheduled.  I have to admit my sense of humor has become a bit more morbid.
I laughed pretty hard at the story and laughed harder when I threatened to quote her in this blog.

I have come to the conclusion that all is not grim.  I have appreciated the words of support and prayers.  Our friend Wendy today shared her system of keeping track of all the medical history, reports, doctors, etc. in a notebook.  She had prepared a notebook for me similar to the one she created for her dad.  While I had been collecting all my information in a semi organized manner, her system is far superior.  It not only organizes the information, but keeps a running chronological history and makes the transfer of information between doctors easier.

I have talked to a few people who have shared  their cancer treatment.  The type  of cancer may be different, their sharing of the process has been encouraging and hopeful.  It is a little tougher getting to the emotional experience.  They have a look in their eyes that they all have in common that I have yet to comprehend.  But I expect I will soon try to be able to express those feelings through the blog.

In the meantime, I'm still waiting for the funeral, I mean surgery.

◾"I'm a doctor, not an engineer." Dr. Leonard McCoy, Star Fleet

Medicine is definitely not an exact science.  At least with the car, I can plug in a diagnostic tool to give me a pretty good idea of what is wrong.   With all the blood drawn, tests, and expert medical opinion, they are not able to determine what my exact condition is.  Where is that medical Tricorder (I googled it) that Bones uses on Star Trek?

It is a bit unsettling for me to have my condition out there and of course, one of the contributors is this blog.  It is the vulnerability due to the exposure that bothers me.  But I am more accepting of it. Why is this time different?  Is it fatigue from old age, maturity (nah), wisdom (nah), or indifference?  It is definitely not for the attention.  This time around, I am actually more concerned for my future on earth.

It is definitely tied to the grandkids.  After Cam and Emerson, I was actually looking forward to seeing Jordan and Jared’s kids.  Will I get to see them? Will there be a grand daughter? Will I get to see them grow up? It thrills me to hear of births of the new generation among the family and friends.  For some reason they give me hope, even though this world is going out of whack.  I was looking forward getting old and see them grow up. 

Maybe it is this hope in our next generation that allows me to feel more comfortable with the vulnerability.  What carries us through our trials and tribulations is hope.  Hope is tied into all those around us.  It is communicated, transmitted, shared, encouraged through vulnerability.

Kind of a reach, but it works for me.

Senior Citizens

Picking up a copy of AARP at the Dr. office is a common occurrence these days.  The ads always has pictures of senior couples smiling enjoying life even though it is an ad for some fatal ailment.  I never thought I would look like that.  I laughed at my sister in law who tries to convince me to dye my hair.  The silver mane bothers her and it brings some amount of joy that it does.  Then there are the subtle hints.  The first was the picture my daughter in law drew of me and the grandkids that I posted.  While I love the picture, Gayle pointed out that I look like my dad.  When did that happen?  Today as we walked through Sams Club, I decided to take passport photos in anticipation of a full recovery and living the AARP ad life.

Now in defense of Sams Club, they do show you the picture before the print it, and on that little screen in dim light and at a distance, it looks great.  But as I opened the envelope to my surprise, we look like two escaped seniors on the run from the old folks home.  I can see the post on the bulletin board at Marukai; Lost, two seniors wandering around the streets of Torrance.  If I post the pictures here, I can say goodbye to a leisure retirement as Gayle would make sure I don't make it to surgery alive.

When I had my heart attack and bypass surgery, I was considered young.  I now fit the description, I look like I belong in that Doctor's waiting room.  People are starting to offer me their seat, some restaurants automatically give me the senior discount.  No one is surprised I have grand kids.  Did I suddenly wake up and find myself looking my age?

I have become the walking representative for Cardiac Stress testing and Colonoscopies.  I get that look as I talk to folks about my situation.  It is the look of "Uh oh, I better schedule a colonoscopy"  or it's a sigh of relief "It's a good thing I just had my colonoscopy".  The second reaction is the surprised look of "hey, he looks ok".  I'm tempted to stop shaving and leave my hair disshelved  to look the part.  Number three is when everyone watches my every move like I may suddenly keel over.

Latest update:  The radiation oncologist called to cancel my appointment as the tumor board did not think it will be required.  In meeting with the gastrologist, he provided more information on my condition and the diagnosis process.  As expected, there are still open questions that he is not able to answer until the surgery.  Modern technology has yet to catch up with the medical decoders of Star Trek.

Can't Sleep

Don't ask why but these are some of my favorite YouTube videos (not including Comedians in Cars getting Coffee and Jame Corden's Carpool Karaoke)

Reba McIntyre singing So Far Away from her tv show Reba
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c23HF5A4lGc

A modern version of the theme to the Andy Griffith Show
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jR7rWvj5s4k

The last opening of Craig Ferguson's Late Late Show
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHRC184WqD0

The theme to MadMen with lyrics
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEj0z0maxzM

Jordan Smith's version of Great is Thy Faithfulness on the Voice
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dm-KsLytcW0

A long forgotten song from my past.  A version of Wes Terasaki's He is God
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQUO9VlK5MI


Time to go to sleep

There Must be Better Things to Read Online

I'm a little surprised people actually read this blog.  I use it more for therapy than for information or amusement.  I am attempting to correct any perceptions based on a previous post.  It was written after the initial diagnosis at 4 in the morning.

At this point of time, I'm not feeling as though the diagnosis is fatal.  There is more hope than futility.  As one doctor put it, "if it was stage 4, there is nothing we can offer."  Ouch.  That kind of woke me up a bit.

I have family, a wife that will not let go, friends, co workers who have shown tremendous support.  This is a bit unusual for me this time, as I am more accepting of the support.  During the heart bypass, I wanted to be in solitude.

But I will admit, the wait is driving me batty.  2 months for a colonoscopy, 2 weeks to get scheduled for surgery, 3 weeks until surgery, 2 more weeks before knowing the future course of action, 6 months of possible Chemo therapy.  In between all of this are appointments, more pokes to the veins,  opinions from different perspectives, instructions through multiple phone calls.

I now keep my insurance card next to my drivers license as each Dr.  and lab requires a copy.  I have memorized all of my medications and dosage.  I am now quite familiar with my family health history which may be painting a genetic path that has been passed on to the boys (sons and grandsons).  I have actually read the fine print of all the multiple documents presented to me for my signature.

I am constantly carrying my folder of information with a spiral notebook of notes as they occur down this path of uncertainty.  It becomes my other therapy and a distilled record of events.

I find myself preparing my hospital bag 3 weeks in advance.  Amazon is benefiting from my book requests.  You would assume I am purchasing inspirational life stories or theological themes.  I am ordering books on how to create videos, audio recording through the computer, and improvisational comedy.  And an old tattered copy of the NIV bible that is printed in novel form.  Chapters, paragraphs, single column, no notes, commentary, etc.

I would assume all of this is an indication that I expect to continue living for some time.

I am also revisiting the will, trust, what will Gayle be left with.  I am also reinforcing to the boys that no matter what happens to me, they are to continue living their lives.  It does not go on hold or sidetrack from what they are doing.   Finish school, get married, have the grandkids I will not live to see.  Oops.

You can tell that is a re occurring thought.  Here is hope that I do get to see them all in my lifetime here on earth.

A Few More Scars.

It is a comfort to the world that I will never take off my shirt in public.  Other than the older out of shape figure, it is the sight of a long scar down the middle of the chest, the two lower scars that drained fluids after the heart surgery creating an inverted face of eyes and nose, it will soon be joined with five other yet to be decided marks of surgery.  Laproscopic is what I have been told, not knowing where or the length.  I might be able to sell the photo as modern art on ebay.  I need a title.

The diagnosis and plan is the following.  Stage 3 cancer of the transverse colon.  Right Extendcolectormy is the surgical term given to be performed July 19th.  If things go ok, everything gets connected, and in 2 to 3 weeks possibly back to the cube farm.  Chemo therapy follows for up to 6 to 9 months.  Chemo depends on what they find when they go in to remove the cancer.

Are there options?  Possibly, but it would require other consultations.  Word of mouth is this group of Doctors are very good at what they do, working as a team.  In the mean time I am absorbing way too much info to fully understand.

The side issues remain, is the will and trust up to date?  Are the beneficiaries correct on all accounts and what happens to the company benefits?  When planning for the worse, reality sets in.  A few more scars doesn't seem that bad after all.

Fathers Day

Mortality

Sometimes I think I'm just waiting to die.  As we get older, death becomes inevitable.  The question becomes when and how.  Two days ago I went through a colonoscopy procedure and they found a large mass in my colon.   The doctor sat me down and described what he found.  The way he presented it was neutral.  It could be cancer or it could me benign.

It wasn't until the next day I actually read the medical report.  It said it was malignant.  I started getting phone calls that same afternoon of the procedure from Drs. offices and nurses scheduling appointments.   Blood tests, CT scans, Surgeon, Oncologist, etc. I feel as though I have the needle marks of a junkie from all the different blood tests.

As the day goes by, especially during the quiet of the late night, I just sit and think i'm sitting here watching tv just waiting to die.

So begins my journey of hope and destiny.  It may long and hopeful or it may be disappointment and short.

It’s All About That Bass

No offense to those who play the bass guitar, but there is nothing like the sound of a string bass.  Yes the overgrown violin on hormones.  It’s size generates it’s tone, but also limits it’s volume.  There is something about it’s resonance, the vibrating rumbling that cannot be duplicated electronically.  Arranged where it blends in with a volume just above where you can hear it, accentuating but not overpowering.  You should not have to strain to hear it, and not have to ignore the thumping.  It’s smoothness blends into the arrangement and gives it just the right amount of oomph like chocolate syrup on vanilla ice cream.  The classic example is Fever, Vocalist, drum and string bass.

Puns part 2

From Mental Floss:  7 Puns That Make Sense in More Than One Language

GREEK PANTS
Speakers of Greek and English with a penchant for the Classics will enjoy this short joke about a Greek dramatist who ripped his pants.

A Greek playwright entered a tailor shop. The tailor asked him, “Euripides?” The tragedian responded, “Yes, Eumenides?”

S-O-C-K-S
If you’re bilingual in English and Spanish, this joke about a Spanish-speaker trying to buy calcetines (socks) will induce giggles (and probably also some eye-rolling).

A Spanish man went into a clothing store where the salesperson only spoke English. Walking up to the nearest sales clerk, the man said, “Quiero calcetines, por favor.” The clerk shook his head and said, “I don’t speak Spanish.” The sales clerk and the man walked around the store, the clerk pointing at jackets, sweaters, pants, and shoes, hoping to find what the Spanish man needed. Finally, the clerk pointed at a table of socks, and the Spanish man exclaimed, “Eso, si que es!” Wide-eyed, the sales clerk said, “If you could spell it, why didn’t you say so before!”

In Spanish, Eso, si que es basically translates as “That’s what it is!” But it also sounds like a person spelling out s-o-c-k-s.

Legacy Part 1

Within the Wada family (legacy of Yukio, Kennie and Frank) there has been a dominance of certain traits that make our Wada branch unique.  We tend to have bushy eyebrows that will eventually extend beyond our glasses, have a propensity for puns (In honor of Pi day:  The roundest knight at King Arthur’s table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from far too much pi) and have assured the world that the family name will carry on.  

Male’s vs females.  The second generation is 6 to 3.  Third generation is 14 to 4.  Fourth generation is currently at 6 to 0.  How does one figure out the odds of this occurring.  When I Googled the subject I looked through an assortment of links with conclusions based off of Scientific, Cultural, Anthropological and Anecdotal research. 

Scientifically, everything goes out the window.  The XY chromosomes theory where the gender is determined by the male is weakened by the Wada females having boys.

Culturally, we have extended beyond our heritage and probably find more similarities than differences in values and in just being Wadas.

The most disturbing is what I classify as Anthropological.  You start reading about how even though worldwide boys outnumber girls 51 to 49%, there are disturbing reasons why it either evens out our shifts in the balance. 

Some are mixed.  When you start reading about methodology of procreation that can affect the outcome, you begin to wonder what the author used as research.

Of course the most enjoyable were the personal accounts that eventually came to no satisfying conclusion other than consolation. 

My conclusions:  1.  Sanrio and Hello Kitty will not profit from the Wadas.  2.  (In honor of my cousins and the former Olympia Beer slogan) it’s the Wada.  Say goodnight Gracie…………..

Hair Cut Records

If you are a follower of the TV show Big Bang Theory, you are familiar with the quirky character Dr. Sheldon Cooper.  In one episode, Sheldon has difficulty with the fact his barber is in a coma and is reluctant to have the nephew cut his hair.  The main reason is that Sheldon does not like change and that the nephew does not have access to his Haircut records sent by his mom in Texas.

What brings this up is that my barber of many years has suddenly retired.  Suddenly is characterized by no one knowing he retired.  Jared went there yesterday, walked in  and noticed a different interior set up and two ladies running the shop.  He apparently closed shop in Nov. and moved to Utah.

We have ben going to Louis for over 20 years.  He was fast, efficient and no one better at a crew cut.  The boys never grew their hair out until high school.  I could always go there, tell him I wanted the same hair cut, short and I would be out in 15 to 20 minutes.  One time he got me out in 10 in time for a funeral.  Louis had a large Asian and Hispanic clientele and was a part of Gardena.  He would not be the town gossip, but the resource for new restaurants, and business changes within the community. 

Our problem ( myself, #3 son and my brother in law) is how do we find another barber?  They seem to be  a dying breed.  They are all hairdressers now.  Where do we go for a economical, quick simple haircut with out the shampoo, excessive hair blowing and shoulder massages?  As Leonard put it in the BBT episode, my haircut is #3 from the poster from 1946.

Who will be the new keeper my Hair cut records and will they have the poster from 1946?