Resolutions

For as many years as I can remember, I've really scorned the whole idea of resolutions. If I made them, they were sarcastic, snarky, or just downright silly. I made a resolution once to not make any resolutions.

Brilliant.

This year, I'm thinking a little humility wouldn't be a bad thing -- so maybe a resolution or two would be a good idea.

So I resolve to accept people for who they are.  Don't misread that to think that I'm going to *like* everyone. I'm just not going to tear people down just because they do/say/view things differently than I would. I don't need for other people to be less for me to be more. That's the heart of this resolution.

I resolve to remember that Noah is only 7 and Matthew is only 10. That means sometimes they will act silly; sometimes they won't listen; sometimes they won't follow directions; sometimes they will do things that will drive me crazy and  make me want to check their DNA. But I know that they are also kind, compassionate, considerate, well-mannered, bright, friendly and loving boys.  When they exhibit the former, I resolve to remember the latter and be patient.

I resolve to try to keep my anxiety at bay by focusing on the day, the hour, the minute, and on what I can affect and control.

I resolve to learn things because if you're not learning, you're not living (at least that's my philosophy).

I resolve to have fun. (See above.) There are only so many years we have and as I enter into year 50, I want to be able to look back at moments where I chose having fun over being afraid to have fun, where I chose doing something over doing nothing, and where I chose to be positive instead of negative.

That's it. Five resolutions -- one for each decade. Not bad. I wouldn't mind eating better and running more as well, but I think five's enough.

Here's to a good 2012.

Three Months Out

About two weeks ago I followed up with Dr. LeCasce. Bloodwork looked normal. Lymph nodes seemed small. All clear for another three months.

Really, my situation hasn't changed from July 11 (my last appointment) to October 6th. But it feels very different.  I had written a post back in August but never published it -- and when I read it now, it just doesn't seem right. Back in August, I was obsessed with every ache and pain -- was it just an ache and pain, or was it a symptom. Now, after a clean bill of health (or as clean as I'm going to get -- meaning, lymph nodes all seem normal and bloodwork is all normal), I'm not looking for symptoms. There have been days that go by and I realize that I haven't thought about cancer all day. (Now I have yet to make it a full day without thinking about cancer, but maybe that's a post to be made in three more months).

It feels like that I've at least proven to myself that I can make it three months with stability, which as I think about it, hadn't happened in a long time. The road to the cancer diagnosis began back in March or April and with each step, I grew closer to the diagnosis. I wasn't actually getting sicker, but it felt that way.

I'm running a couple of times a week; taking my iron pills again (interestingly enough, there's a link between distance running and anemia, but whatever, I'll take my iron pills); and I gave up caffeine.

The other day, Noah had a minor cold; Stacy was recovering from some kind of bug that had been knocking her around for two weeks and Matthew was nursing his broken arm. Noah said, as only he can, "Dad, you're the only healthy one in the family."

 True, that.

Symptoms

The whole idea of this blog is to take the contagious thoughts that fill my head and get them out of my head. This is supposed to be mentally therapeutic.  It is also challenging.

When I'm in the mood to write, it's usually because I'm in a good place (mentally) and so I don't feel the need to write. I have the will but not the need. Other times, usually at night, when I'm lying in bed trying to sleep, I have all these ideas spreading like a virus through my thought processes but I'm trying to sleep.

I have the need but not the will to write.

That, I suppose, is a long way of saying that it's hard to find the right time and place to write. That's come to me here on vacation on Lake Winnepesauke. It's been a good vacation so far -- the boys have swam a lot; we've played games; gone kayaking;  took a little hike. They've learned to fish and I've managed to get four runs in in five days.

But I'm having a hard time with symptom suspicion. When we're younger, having something wrong with your body is an anomaly. But for the last 5-10 years, it's hard to think of a day when there wasn't SOME ache or pain -- a muscle that's tighter than usual; a new bruise; a strain; an upset stomach; a headache, something.  A day without some little ache or pain is the anomaly now. And I get that. But now I can't stop wondering if that ache or pain is related to the lymphoma and does it mean I am getting sicker.  Does the giant bruise on my leg mean anything? No. Or is really just a big bruise from a softball bat that hit my leg? Yes.

 Does the occasional pain in my lower abdomen mean anything? Or is it just soreness from a lot of kayak paddling? Probably.

Does the pain in the back of my wrist mean anything? No. Or is it just a strain from some sport that doesn't heal as quickly in a 48-year-0ld body? Yes.

I keep reminding myself that some of the main symptoms is fatigue, weight loss, fever and night sweats. And I'm running 3-4 miles at 8:20- 8:30 minute miles and staying active, without any concerns. In other words, 48-year-old aches and pains aside, I feel good.

I'm about seven weeks out from initial diagnosis and six weeks until I see Dr. LaCasce again. If I can have one 3-month checkup where the disease has not really progressed, it'll certainly help. But I know that this constant symptom suspicion is a battle I'll face forever.

The Plan

To say it wasn't the best day to spend your birthday would be an understatement but on Stacy's birthday last Monday (7/11), we were back at Dana-Farber for scans, blood work and a meeting  again with Dr. LaCasce.

The scans showed a couple of slightly enlarged lymph nodes in my abdomen but that was it. My blood work looked good (eventually, I'll probably understand what makes it look good or not good, but for now, I'll just take Dr. LaCasce's word on the matter. She did explain what it was that specifically looked good, but the only word I really heard was the "good" part.)

By the way, I like the way she gives news. Somewhere in between entering the room, shaking my hand, and taking a seat, she's already laid out the news -- in this case, two small lymph nodes in the abdomen. "Out of how many nodes?" I asked.

"Loads of nodes."

So what do we do? We wait and watch. Or watch and wait. Or actively monitor. What that means is that every three months I see her and have blood work; and every six months or so, I have scans -- unless I have any symptoms (fatigue, fever, night sweats, noticeably enlarged lymph nodes, etc.).  And we watch and wait, and with luck, we stay in watch and wait for a long time.