Four years and a day ago, I lay on the
operating table for over six hours to remove the cancerous tumor from
the lower part of my colon. There are days when it seems like a
distant memory and days when it seems like yesterday.
Last night (Saturday) I and some of our
friends and Kelly's parents surprised her with a small birthday
dinner gathering in Brimley. Saturday morning, we were going
different directions because of my freshman basketball game and
Abbie's travel basketball game in Newberry. I thought I had it
planned out perfectly. While we're getting ourselves ready, Kelly
suggests that we go to Gaylord, get a hotel room and use the pool and
hot tub since we were planning to go down there the next morning
anyway. I am in a full-blown panic at this point, trying to figure
out a way to say no to Gaylord and come up with a reason why.
Any other night and I would have been
in the car before she finished her suggestion because I like to do
stuff like that and she knows it. I thought she must have been on to
me because she doesn't usually suggest things like that. So, I'm
wondering why, WHY of all nights, she suggested Saturday night to go
and do this.
Even when we got to dinner, I still had
it in the back of my mind that she must have seen the texts between
me and my co-conspiritors and was just messing with me on Gaylord.
I finally figured it out after dinner.
And by figured it out, I mean I found out because Kelly told me. We
had a round of shots and Kelly toasted everyone for being there.
During the toast, she said that in addition to this being a good day
because of of our get-together, it was also a good day because it was
four years ago to the day that I had my surgery. She got a little
emotional when she said that and I was completely stunned. We had
had about a two second conversation about this being the anniversary
of my surgery, but it was pretty brief and I had forgotten all about
it. What stunned me was that it was really a big deal to Kelly. I
have tried to put it out of my mind as much as I could because I feel
like I have enough reminders in my every day life. But the fact that
Kelly put so much value on the day made me re-think it a little bit.
A lot has happened in the four years
since then, both good and bad. Some of the good things have been
that we have graduated three kids in that time. We have added a pug
to our four-legged family, and none of our kids have informed us that
we are going to be grandparents. (knocking on wood).
On the other side of the coin, I lost
my grandma last year in early January. I can't really get into that
right now because, somehow, it hasn't really hit me yet. I can still
hear her voice in my head sometimes and part of me died when she did.
Kelly lost her grandmother as well. Kelly always loved to tell the
story of how resourceful she was. When Kelly was a child, she was
riding with her grandma and one of the tires came off the car. All
the lugnuts were gone from the tire and Kelly's grandma had the
presence of mind to take one lugnut off of each of the other tires to
put the spare on and get home.
Also on the bad side of the coin, my
ex-wife, the mother of my children passed away in August of 17. She
left after going through a living hell for the past two-plus years.
For those of you who don't know already, the breast cancer that she
dealt with had moved into her brain without anyone knowing. She
complained of weakness and pain and she continually heard that it was
just part of the recovery process. At Thanksgiving of 2015 it became
apparent that there was something serious going on and we had a
conversation about her going to the doctor and not leaving until they
had agreed to do whatever tests it took to figure it out. They did
the tests and found the tumor right before Christmas. I remember
getting the phone call from her asking me to if I could pick Abbie up
from school. She was sobbing, telling me about the tumor and she was
so afraid that she was going to die. I told her that she was going
to be fine and that we'd talk after she was done. I had no idea that
that would be the last time we would ever speak actual words to each
other. She told me that the local hospital had called and told her
to come to the ER immediately. From there, she went to the hospital
in Petoskey, where she was promised that she'd be home by Christmas
and Andrew's birthday. The initial surgery went well, but her brain
bled after and created a lot of swelling and pressure on the brain
and a second surgery had to be performed immediately. Liz didn't
regain consciousness for weeks and when she did, she was unable to
move or even speak. She could respond with her eyes, but nothing
else.
As weeks dragged into months, the kids
were forced to watch their mother slowly wither and die as the
improvements that were made were small and the cancer in her brain
began to attack her again. She fought as hard as she could, but in
the end, she lost the battle. All the kids were devastated, and
Kelly and I cried for all of them. The worst though, was checking on
Abbie before I left for work at night. Many nights I would stand at
her door and watch her as she listened to an audio book recorded by
her mother. It's a Winnie The Pooh story and Abbie would listen to
it over and over at night.
She did see Andrew and Callie graduate
high school, and I know that it meant the world to them and to her
that she was able to see that.
That was what made the whole ordeal so
frustrating for everyone. You could talk to her and look into her
eyes and you know that she was aware of what was going on around her.
She was trapped in there and just couldn't make her body do what she
wanted so badly for it to do.
I know that it sounds like I'm getting
a little sidetracked, but I think it's important for a couple of
reasons. The first is that this sort of explains the reason that I
don't go to cancer survivor stuff. We donate to different cancer
fighting causes, but I don't like to be recognized for being a
survivor because I didn't do anything special. I just lived. What
happened to Liz or the thousands of other people who have lost to
cancer could have happened to me. It just didn't.
The second is cancer isn't just about
one person. It doesn't just affect you, it affects everyone around
you. People have to do things for you because you can't do them
yourself, and you have to rely on people for those things. Liz's
cancer had an effect on all of us, and mine had an affect on more
people than I can even name.
The kids came to live with us and it
was an adjustment for all of us. We got another dog out of the deal
too as Marsh joined the herd. We are only one pooch short of a
basketball team now.
Liz and I were supposed to hate each
other, I know. But we were actually better friends towards the end
than we were while we were married, I think. That may seem weird,
but that's just how it was.
There have been other changes in the
past four years, but they seem small.
As I write this, Kelly, Abbie and I are
sitting here watching the Grammy Awards and watching her watch all
the singers that she listens to on Hits 1 is actually kind of fun. I
can't say enough about the bravery and toughness she has shown
through this whole process. At her mother's “funeral,” Abbie got
up and said that she had some things she wanted to say. I had no
idea what they were, or how she was going to get though it, but she
had the whole room laughing and then in tears during her five minutes
of talking about her mom.
I'm rambling now, which happens from
time to time when I'm trying to figure out life.
The bottom line is that it's been four
years and a day since I went under the knife for the first time, and
I'm still here. One more year and I'll be officially be considered
cancer-free. I'll be here for that too, and we'll see what changes
the next year brings. Hopefully more good than bad.
I Will Win
