Rest, Results, Resuming Life with Cancer
Vacation was great, but we returned home and quickly returned to the real world.
Savannah is a beautiful city, full of incredible architecture, history, and food. Especially the food. It’s a city where you could spend weeks roaming from block to block, discovering hidden gems and well-known treasures. Or, as many people seemed inclined to do, you could spend your entire visit drunk.
That’s the beauty of choice, I suppose.
My clan opted to bypass a spirit-fueled getaway in favor of more traditional family fare: putt-putt, parasailing, ghost tours, and shopping around the city’s various boutiques. We ate seafood and steak and some incredible pretzels, and I was able to surprise Rachel with flowers in celebration of our 20th wedding anniversary. We continued celebrating by going to dinner—with the kids. They loved the experience and can’t wait to go back to, as Jon termed it, “a real grown-up restaurant.
We also did some non-traditional family things, at least, non-traditional for families with kids as young as ours: college campus tours, college theater performances, and a long discussion about the incredible opportunities and benefits that come with matriculating at the Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD).
I had a few issues with my health, but the family was able to adapt and overcome. I spent a couple of days lying on my back, feet elevated, to combat swelling in my legs and feet. While I’ve struggled with fluid retention lately, I’ve not had to worry about my legs or belly the way I had to in Savannah.
We were careful about how much I did, trying to limit my activity in order to limit an increase in swelling, but I was still able to participate in much of the fun. I loved going to dinner each night (I was in charge of selecting restaurants) and spending time recapping the day during a lovely dinner conversation. It was awesome to hear about the city through the eyes of my kids and Rachel; but it was even more awesome when I was able to be with them for experiences.
I could be bummed about the days I spent on the couch, but I’m incredibly grateful for them because they helped me stay focused on what truly mattered: being there with the family. I was able to join them each day for the evening meal and activities, and it provided a nice contrast to my day on the couch. But the whole trip was a nice contrast; I liked looking at different walls, and enjoyed the way the sounds of the city were always reaching through the windows to remind me that life continues moving even if we can’t.
That’s what make vacations great. They remind you of the value and joy of life. They refresh not only your body and mind, but your spirit and soul as well. I knew that once I got back from vacation I was facing a PET scan that would reveal how effective my chemo is on my cancer and the resumption of my chemo treatments. I knew that after vacation, I’d have to go back to real life and face whatever was next.
Today, I came face to face with that next.
That last line sounds a little ominous, but that’s what good writers do—they build tension to increase the interest and impact of a story. But I don’t want to mislead, so let me go ahead and set your mind at ease:
My scans revealed no new growth, no major changes with regards to my existing cancer. The chemo is not only working, it’s working well.1 We saw a big drop off in my CEA, which is a measurement I don’t understand in the slightest, but my doctor considers very important. None of the tumors have grown, nor are they showing increased activity, and the only thing of concern is the fluid that I’m retaining.
The fluid is what causes the swelling my feet, legs, and other areas, and it’s the result of my protein levels being too low. My doctor said the number should be a 5; mine is closer to 3, which doesn’t sound like much but is apparently a significant gap, if what I’m going through is any indication.
Since I don’t have enough protein in my system, there’s a decrease in a protective layers around my blood cells, and that deficiency allows fluid to leak from those cells and into the empty spaces in my body. The more fluid accumulates, the more I swell, and the more things inside me get squeezed.
So while I can put on compression socks and other gear to help manage the way the fluid settles, the only way I can get it to go away is by upping my protein intake.
I’ve been trying to do that, but I’ve allowed my picky eating habits and tastebuds to get in the way. Simply put, I’ve not made myself do what I know is right, and as a result I’m paying the price.2 But now, I can no longer afford to act like a child. I have to be a grown up or risk not being around long enough to see my actual children grow up.
It’s a no-brainer in the theory department; it’s gonna take some growth in the practice department.
That’s because food has always been less of a nutritional thing for me and more of a psychological one. Food is more of a reward for me than anything else, especially now that I’m an adult and can buy whatever food I want without anyone telling me, “You can’t have that.”
Well, now my body is telling me, “You can’t do that.” And I can’t afford to be a whiny brat about this. I’ve got to do it.
I don’t know if it’s weird that I’m fighting this kind of battle. I’m sure other people have food issues too, but usually they’re more of the eating disorder type, the kind you see on TV because they make for good drama. Perhaps my issues amount to a disorder of some kind, but I’ve never run across a term that would sum it up nicely. That’s why it’s easy to assume that I’m just weird and that no one else has this issue.
But that can’t be true, can it? On a planet with 7+ billion people, surely one or two others share this strange, dysfunctional relationship with food.
Right?
If you’ve struggled with an issue like this, I’d love to hear from you. It doesn’t have to be an issue with food, mind you; it’s more about growing up with a strange relationship to something that seems so simple and straightforward. The kind of thing where, when people hear about it, they ask, “How can you have an issue with that?”
Maybe there’s not really a corollary here. Maybe I’m just looking for one so I don’t feel alone or strange, even if it’s only a little bit. I’m trying to move beyond my childhood belief that I was weird, trying to accept that I was just a kid like any other, and that we all had issues of one type or another. And like with food, I know what’s good for me and what I need to do to get healthy; it’s just the doing that gets in the way because doing is hard.
But the doing is also where the magic happens, not matter what the issue may be. So Phil Knight and his fellow Shoe Dogs had it right:
Just do it.
If that’s what it takes, then that’s what it takes. I’ll survive, and so will you, and we’ll come out of the doing with a greater sense of self and self-worth. And that’s an area of life where everyone deserves to be healthy.
Prayer requests for this week:
Jason—for the fortitude to make the right eating choices; for the strength to “just do it” when it comes to consuming protein; for the adjusted dosage of chemo to not affect the continued effectiveness of the chemo; for fluid retention to quickly and significantly decrease; for side effects to be minimal this go round; and for a special work meeting on Thursday—that I would be well enough to attend and sharp enough to bring value with my contributions.
Rachel—for rest, rest, and more rest; for continued strength and stamina as a caregiver and partner to a cancer fighter; for her to see her hard work towards key goals pay off with significant dividends; for wisdom and peace as she continues to be the parent doing most of the heavy lifting.
Ella—for rest, rest, and more rest; for continued growth in her healthy friendships; for continued wisdom in what makes healthy friendships; for her continued interest in reading over the summer; for her to continue learning about herself and who she is and wants to become.
Jon—can you guess?—rest, rest, and more rest; for him to continue his growth, both physically, mentally, and spiritually; for his continued curiosity about life and history and philosophy; for him to develop some interests outside of the laptop and gaming world; for him to begin leaning into the process of self-discovery, and to learn who he is and what kind of man he wants to become.
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I didn’t think I’d have a final thought for this week’s post. I just wrapped up chemo, and am feeling a bit tired and loopy, so I’m ready for a nap. But I will say it’s nice to have that choice, and I’m grateful to lead a life that provides me with those kind of options.
I know of others who aren’t so lucky.
If you have the kind of life I do, where you can choose what’s best for you, then be thankful today. It’s a gift, unless you take it for granted, in which case it becomes a privilege—a gift you feel entitled to because you’re special somehow.
The funny thing about both a gift and a privilege is that neither is earned; they’re each bestowed. It’s just that gifts inspire gratitude, while privileges inspire greed.
Don’t live life privileged. Live it with gratitude for the gift it is.
Because you never know when that gift might cease to come your way.
As always, thanks for reading!
Best,
Jason
We did choose to make an adjustment to the dosage. We’re going to decrease the strength by 20%, as a way of trying to improve my quality of life by (hopefully) diminishing the side effects I experience.
If you’re a Bible reader, you’ll pick up on the reference.
I am glad that the family had a time for getting away together. It sounds as if you were able to do more than expected. Wonderfu! The test results are great. You have a lot of people who continue to pray for all of you. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏