I knew I would miss someone.. or three.
No matter how diligent we are as humans we are bound to make mistakes. Albeit small, mistakes do happen over our lifetime and the right thing to do is to own up to them. Come on Tiger, tell us what really happened.
I too made a small mistake on my last rendition of my blog. My deepest apologizes have to go out to my brother-in-law Ernie Latchford who came to Toronto with his wife twice to pick me up and bring me home. The second person I forgot is Lynn Harris who's daughter Melissa played lacrosse with Trent this past summer. Lynn took me to Toronto, stayed with me for a treatment and then dropped me off at the Lodge one late afternoon. And finally, to our ex-neighbour Mike Lord who drove me once and while getting closer to the PMH we found out his daughter lived across the road from the hospital's parking lot. We went for lunch with Kayla and had a awesome meal.
I hope that's everyone now. To everyone, thank you once again.
***
Results! I promised to inform everyone who carefully reads my blather here to update them following my visits to Toronto last week for my results on an MRI for my head and neck and a CT-Scan for the disease which infests my lungs at the present time.
Well, the news is good for the most part. The tumour which was close to my optic nerve and potentially in danger of growing and causing blindness is GONE! My doctor told me they had annihilated it with nothing remaining. Very positive news for us and since I have been seeing well again when looking to the right, I was confidently expecting this result. Those that I have told are excited about the news and I am as well. However, the fear of cancer recurrence lives in us all suffering from it daily. It's gone for now, but when will it come again is our greatest fear.
As for the CT-Scan, the news there is good as well. The cells are stable, as Dr. Sui puts it. I then asked "What does that mean really... Stable?". As she explained the size of the nodes are relatively small, ranging from a millimetre to the largest at approximately two centimetres. There a lots of them in both lungs but they are tiny. She then went on to say that there has been a small 8 % growth of the cells over the past several months. But, according to Dr. Sui, when you take into consideration 8% growth on a two centimetre nodule that's a very little concern to the doctors and therefore considered, 'Stable'.
As I have stated before, there is no known chemo to destroy this form of cancer. So, I have to live my life waiting for some dedicated doctor to find one. And they are out there. When they will find it is the million dollar question. Following my meeting with Dr. Sui she told me the next steps were for her to search for another trial that would be good for me to consider. You see, I cannot just jump on any trial. With a heart history as vast as mine, most of the trials automatically rule me out as a prospective candidate because they don't want me skewing the trial by getting sick from a trial drug or damaging my heart further in the process.
So, as Dr. Sui searches, I am going to take the month of December to spend quality time with Jennifer and Trent and forget about travelling or living in Toronto for treatment. I have an appointment with Dr. Sui January 11, 2010 with hopes that she will have found something to destroy all of my cancer. Let's hope 2010 is a much better year.
Thanks for sharing and reading...
Next blog... January 1st.... It's a Wonderful Life
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thank you to my drivers
Time to say Thanks!
There simply are not enough ways to thank those who have assisted Jennifer, Trent and I during this time of illness.
Many family members and friends have contributed in some way to making my journey a little less strenuous. Some have contributed with assisting me with outside chores at the house while others have provided me with gifts of candy, books and food. And still others have graciously offered, including taking time from work, to drive me to Toronto for treatment. Whether it was a simple drop off or pick up at times a round trip adventure, it is those family and friends I would like to send a thank you to today.
My ever thoughtful wife, Jennifer, mentioned more than a month ago now that it may be wise to make a list of those who have contributed to driving and thought it would be nice to acknowledge them on my blog. I have to admit that even though men do not like to admit, but our spouses do often assist us in so many ways with ideas that are downright responsible. So today, with the latest round of treatments complete, and I know await the results of the most rececent CT-Scan and MRI, I offer my thanks to those on behalf of Jennifer, Trent and yours truly.
My extraordinary team of drivers include:
Pat and Lorraine Larock - Mom and Dad
Beth Latchford
Blair Larock
Natalie Burgess
Nathan Latchford
Andy Wasson
Craig Field
Bill Duff
Ed Burke
Kelly O'Brien
Jamie Batley
Sue Ross
Joe Sullivan
Bob Keast
John Oke
Lee Stephens
Brandon Blancher
Gary Dalliday
I also have to thank the Canadian Cancer Society. I have had a few drivers as well from the pool of volunteer drivers who spend their free time helping by assisting cancer patients with back and forth trips to Toronto, Kingston, and Oshawa hospitals. Finally, if I have forgotten anyone in the list above, please forgive me and let me know. You too deserve to be recognized for your kind efforts.
***
Finally, most of you know already but on November 1, 2009 Jennifer, Trent and I had to watch as our beloved pet B.J. Larock passed away at the age of 17. Always there for me when I needed a hug of someone to cuddle with, B.J. lasted as long as he possibly could until a stroke finally took his life. He was a very good friend of mine and as pet owners know his loss shook our family substantially.
I often wondered as B.J. aged as to whether or not he or I would go first.
As brutally honest as the next comment is, please don't take it the wrong way. I am glad he was the first to go. You see, his death, our mourning and his eventual burial at my niece's house really gave me the first true insight into death firsthand. I, luckily, have never had to deal with death and closure before. I was obviously very sad to see him pass but in his death I tried to teach myself and Trent that we will always have his memory. We found photos of him and relished his pictures with Trent and us from but a baby to his death. We have buried B.J. at a place that we can all visit and affectionately remember him for his true unconditional love that he provided for us every momement of his life.
Personally, I have considered cremation over burial because, quite frankly, I didnt want to be placed in the cold, cold ground. (I hate the cold by the way). But now, I'm not so sure. I am no longer thinking of my self but rather thinking of a place to rest where my family or friends who wish to visit will still come and remember me at peace. A place with no disease, no needles, and no pain. I know B.J. is at peace now and by living through his death and the aftercare, I am grateful to him for the life lesson he has taught me. His death was scary and the loss enormous, but the sense of peace, rest and closure for those that remain has me feeling a little more informed on my own eventual future. Now I can make a more informed decision on how to deal with it. Thank you B.J. for all that you gave us.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next bog... November 27.. the Results are In
There simply are not enough ways to thank those who have assisted Jennifer, Trent and I during this time of illness.
Many family members and friends have contributed in some way to making my journey a little less strenuous. Some have contributed with assisting me with outside chores at the house while others have provided me with gifts of candy, books and food. And still others have graciously offered, including taking time from work, to drive me to Toronto for treatment. Whether it was a simple drop off or pick up at times a round trip adventure, it is those family and friends I would like to send a thank you to today.
My ever thoughtful wife, Jennifer, mentioned more than a month ago now that it may be wise to make a list of those who have contributed to driving and thought it would be nice to acknowledge them on my blog. I have to admit that even though men do not like to admit, but our spouses do often assist us in so many ways with ideas that are downright responsible. So today, with the latest round of treatments complete, and I know await the results of the most rececent CT-Scan and MRI, I offer my thanks to those on behalf of Jennifer, Trent and yours truly.
My extraordinary team of drivers include:
Pat and Lorraine Larock - Mom and Dad
Beth Latchford
Blair Larock
Natalie Burgess
Nathan Latchford
Andy Wasson
Craig Field
Bill Duff
Ed Burke
Kelly O'Brien
Jamie Batley
Sue Ross
Joe Sullivan
Bob Keast
John Oke
Lee Stephens
Brandon Blancher
Gary Dalliday
I also have to thank the Canadian Cancer Society. I have had a few drivers as well from the pool of volunteer drivers who spend their free time helping by assisting cancer patients with back and forth trips to Toronto, Kingston, and Oshawa hospitals. Finally, if I have forgotten anyone in the list above, please forgive me and let me know. You too deserve to be recognized for your kind efforts.
***
Finally, most of you know already but on November 1, 2009 Jennifer, Trent and I had to watch as our beloved pet B.J. Larock passed away at the age of 17. Always there for me when I needed a hug of someone to cuddle with, B.J. lasted as long as he possibly could until a stroke finally took his life. He was a very good friend of mine and as pet owners know his loss shook our family substantially.
I often wondered as B.J. aged as to whether or not he or I would go first.
As brutally honest as the next comment is, please don't take it the wrong way. I am glad he was the first to go. You see, his death, our mourning and his eventual burial at my niece's house really gave me the first true insight into death firsthand. I, luckily, have never had to deal with death and closure before. I was obviously very sad to see him pass but in his death I tried to teach myself and Trent that we will always have his memory. We found photos of him and relished his pictures with Trent and us from but a baby to his death. We have buried B.J. at a place that we can all visit and affectionately remember him for his true unconditional love that he provided for us every momement of his life.
Personally, I have considered cremation over burial because, quite frankly, I didnt want to be placed in the cold, cold ground. (I hate the cold by the way). But now, I'm not so sure. I am no longer thinking of my self but rather thinking of a place to rest where my family or friends who wish to visit will still come and remember me at peace. A place with no disease, no needles, and no pain. I know B.J. is at peace now and by living through his death and the aftercare, I am grateful to him for the life lesson he has taught me. His death was scary and the loss enormous, but the sense of peace, rest and closure for those that remain has me feeling a little more informed on my own eventual future. Now I can make a more informed decision on how to deal with it. Thank you B.J. for all that you gave us.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next bog... November 27.. the Results are In
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
A Fabulous Summer Indeed...
A lot can be said about this past summer. There are just too many memories to type in this blog.
Too many good memories of things that happened, such as our visit with Pablo Perez from Madrid, Spain and our family vacation to Prince Edward Island with my brother Blair and wife Jane. Yes, Jennifer, Trent and I had a true family summer together.
We enjoyed Pablo, who came to us as part of the Red Leaf program to experience life in Canada for 28 days. Jennifer shed a tear when Pablo left and I have to admit I did as well. He was a good friend to Trent for the month of July and introduced us to many things European, a place I would love to experience but likely never will. Once our Spanish friend departed, our next adventure was to plan for our two week trip to PEI. We rented a cottage and set out a plan to stay a few days with my brother Blair and sister-in-law Jane on the west side of the island before travelling to our own rented cottage on the east side of the island in Montague, for the remainder of the trip.
Now, if you’ve never been to the tiny island, it’s one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been. The countryside is beautiful, the people friendly and its nothing like Ontario because you can drive for kilometers at a time and never see another car or human being. It’s peaceful, it smells sea-like and at night, there were a million or so stars in the sky. We visited beaches, lighthouses, and even went fishing on the ocean catching mackerel with a local who was a cousin of a cousin of my brother’s ex-brother in law (whew, I hope I got that right).
Our trip also included a night stay in Quebec City to experience the Ole Town and of course a plate of crapes all covered in chocolate and strawberries for us all. The trip was capped off by an overnight rest in Ottawa to see the parliament buildings and of course to remember the days when Jennifer and I lived in the City and the town where Trent was born. Yes it was a great adventure and a good way to end the summer before facing new challenges, as described below.
Now it sounds like we had a wonderful and eventful summer. Of course, we did. However, mid-way through all this wonder a sad side dish of reality was delivered as I received more bad news on my health in July. Did the good side of my summer balance with the bad? Well, you be the judge.
Everything was going smoothly according to my last blog. I was taking chemo on a regular monthly basis staying in Toronto for a week at a time receiving a dose of ‘trial medicine’ that was apparently working to slow down the growth of my disease. But near the end of June I started to encounter double vision in my right eye when looking to the right. An MRI later and the diagnosis was a small tumor had developed in a cavity located near my right optic nerve. The tumor is small and the plan at the time was to see if it would grow in the next month of two while I continued on with the ‘trial medicine’ each month. I let it go one more month and then was told by one of my many splendid doctors that at second thought perhaps we should get this tumor before it grows and attaches to the optic nerve. If it did, then I would surely lose the vision in right my eye when the doctors finally attacked the tumor with radiation. The other concern was that if the tumor grew large enough it could affect another nerve which controls both eyes and thus if not attacked with radiation, I would lose my vision entirely.
Of course, one would immediately say, “well then, let’s get rid of it,” no question. However, if I were to have radiation I would have to come off the ‘trial medicine’ for my lungs and I would not be guaranteed to get back on the ‘trial’ following the last of the radiation treatments. This left me in a terrible dilemma. Should I secure my vision and potentially forgo my life? No shit, this was a tough decision for any 44 year-old man with a loving wife and 12-year old son. And to think, I hate making the decision on what to make for dinner!
After careful consideration, I decided to attack the young tumor and get rid of it now. We would deal with the cancer in the lungs later perhaps with a new drug or as I learned later after I had made my decision. She said, “we really don’t know if the ‘trial medicine ‘ is working anyways because you amassed this new tumor while on the drug. It might just be that your disease, as we know it does, is progressing very slowly.”
Time can only tell if I made the right decision. I made some good ones this summer going to PEI and giving the nod to our visiting friend Pablo. Perhaps this one is a good decision too.
Today, September 10, 2009, 7:28 pm, I am in my room at the Princess Margaret Lodge on Jarvis Street where I just finished dinner and I am now writing this blog. I completed my tenth treatment today of radiation so pure and refined that it is hitting the tumor within less than two millimeter of my optic nerve. The doctors believe now that I will not lose my eyesight and they will destroy the tumor in the remaining 25 treatments. (That is the plan). Once this is finished, we will surely set course to tackle the next obstacle in the game of my life.
Oh and if you’re looking for me, I am here in downtown Toronto, Monday to Friday for the next 5 weeks.
And I know it’s a long, long way from PEI and our family’s fabulous vacation. But I do have the good memories.
Thanks for reading and sharing! Next blog, September 17, 2009.. What else do I have to do?
Too many good memories of things that happened, such as our visit with Pablo Perez from Madrid, Spain and our family vacation to Prince Edward Island with my brother Blair and wife Jane. Yes, Jennifer, Trent and I had a true family summer together.
We enjoyed Pablo, who came to us as part of the Red Leaf program to experience life in Canada for 28 days. Jennifer shed a tear when Pablo left and I have to admit I did as well. He was a good friend to Trent for the month of July and introduced us to many things European, a place I would love to experience but likely never will. Once our Spanish friend departed, our next adventure was to plan for our two week trip to PEI. We rented a cottage and set out a plan to stay a few days with my brother Blair and sister-in-law Jane on the west side of the island before travelling to our own rented cottage on the east side of the island in Montague, for the remainder of the trip.
Now, if you’ve never been to the tiny island, it’s one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been. The countryside is beautiful, the people friendly and its nothing like Ontario because you can drive for kilometers at a time and never see another car or human being. It’s peaceful, it smells sea-like and at night, there were a million or so stars in the sky. We visited beaches, lighthouses, and even went fishing on the ocean catching mackerel with a local who was a cousin of a cousin of my brother’s ex-brother in law (whew, I hope I got that right).
Our trip also included a night stay in Quebec City to experience the Ole Town and of course a plate of crapes all covered in chocolate and strawberries for us all. The trip was capped off by an overnight rest in Ottawa to see the parliament buildings and of course to remember the days when Jennifer and I lived in the City and the town where Trent was born. Yes it was a great adventure and a good way to end the summer before facing new challenges, as described below.
Now it sounds like we had a wonderful and eventful summer. Of course, we did. However, mid-way through all this wonder a sad side dish of reality was delivered as I received more bad news on my health in July. Did the good side of my summer balance with the bad? Well, you be the judge.
Everything was going smoothly according to my last blog. I was taking chemo on a regular monthly basis staying in Toronto for a week at a time receiving a dose of ‘trial medicine’ that was apparently working to slow down the growth of my disease. But near the end of June I started to encounter double vision in my right eye when looking to the right. An MRI later and the diagnosis was a small tumor had developed in a cavity located near my right optic nerve. The tumor is small and the plan at the time was to see if it would grow in the next month of two while I continued on with the ‘trial medicine’ each month. I let it go one more month and then was told by one of my many splendid doctors that at second thought perhaps we should get this tumor before it grows and attaches to the optic nerve. If it did, then I would surely lose the vision in right my eye when the doctors finally attacked the tumor with radiation. The other concern was that if the tumor grew large enough it could affect another nerve which controls both eyes and thus if not attacked with radiation, I would lose my vision entirely.
Of course, one would immediately say, “well then, let’s get rid of it,” no question. However, if I were to have radiation I would have to come off the ‘trial medicine’ for my lungs and I would not be guaranteed to get back on the ‘trial’ following the last of the radiation treatments. This left me in a terrible dilemma. Should I secure my vision and potentially forgo my life? No shit, this was a tough decision for any 44 year-old man with a loving wife and 12-year old son. And to think, I hate making the decision on what to make for dinner!
After careful consideration, I decided to attack the young tumor and get rid of it now. We would deal with the cancer in the lungs later perhaps with a new drug or as I learned later after I had made my decision. She said, “we really don’t know if the ‘trial medicine ‘ is working anyways because you amassed this new tumor while on the drug. It might just be that your disease, as we know it does, is progressing very slowly.”
Time can only tell if I made the right decision. I made some good ones this summer going to PEI and giving the nod to our visiting friend Pablo. Perhaps this one is a good decision too.
Today, September 10, 2009, 7:28 pm, I am in my room at the Princess Margaret Lodge on Jarvis Street where I just finished dinner and I am now writing this blog. I completed my tenth treatment today of radiation so pure and refined that it is hitting the tumor within less than two millimeter of my optic nerve. The doctors believe now that I will not lose my eyesight and they will destroy the tumor in the remaining 25 treatments. (That is the plan). Once this is finished, we will surely set course to tackle the next obstacle in the game of my life.
Oh and if you’re looking for me, I am here in downtown Toronto, Monday to Friday for the next 5 weeks.
And I know it’s a long, long way from PEI and our family’s fabulous vacation. But I do have the good memories.
Thanks for reading and sharing! Next blog, September 17, 2009.. What else do I have to do?
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Good as my Word...
This is for my Aunt Norine.
My mother-in-law's sister, Nornie, (Jennifer's aunt and therefore my aunt too) sent me a cute and sassy email the other day looking for a much promised update to my blog May 19. She wrote, "Excuse me … but it must be my technological incompetence that is hampering me from accessing your next blog update so passionately promised for May 19 because I am sure you are as good as your word!!!!!"
The truth is Aunt Norine.. I am obviously not as good as my word? But I have been trying. Especially these days.
I write this because I have been struggling recently with my so called 'words'. I recognize and perhaps you have too that I have been a little more crusty recently and have done and said some things since the dreaded day in 2006 when I was diagnosed that the old Barry Larock just wouldn't have mustered enough courage to follow through with. Gone are the days of me being as quiet as a mouse and listening before speaking. Today, I say what's on my mind and haven't been too afraid of who hears it.
I suppose, however, that all comes with the fact that with time potentially running out one might say to himself "who gives a rats ass what people will think."
And so I have spoken, wrote or did some things that others might scorn at. Not to hurt people of course but to be honest to myself and air out my feelings. It has been enlightening to say the least to speak up against and for things I truly believe in. I feel better when I say what is on my mind and I believe I have been healthier for it. I'm certainly not going to get into any specific details of what I have wrote or said since 2006 but I will tell you that sometimes expressing your feelings and being truthful can be fabulous.
To this enlightenment I owe two friends. I've learned from a couple of good friends of mine that being honest with people and your initial feelings is very important to a good solid relationship. Jamie Batley, who has become an exceptional friend over the past few years has taught me to 'call people out' if someone is telling me something I think might be misleading from the truth. Jamie has strong opinions on matters and speaks his mind openly. He will out right call someone a liar if he thinks they are lieing to him. I know, he's done it to me. But I respect him for that because quite honestly he caught me lying and in the end I told him the truth. For that, we are much better friends.
My other friend is Lee Stephens. Lee is the type of person who does what's right for Lee and what's right for Lee's family. He has never cared what people think of him and has even confronted people face to face if he has heard a rumour about him behind his back. Lee's a good person with a good heart and I know he and his family will be there for my family should they eventually need him.
Lee Stephens will tell you the way he feels no matter what you might think afterwards. He is so honest, its scary. We used to be neighbours with the Stephen's and one day Lee and I disagreed on a subject. I called him a liar over the phone because of course its always easier to call someone a liar over the phone. The problem was that it wasn't ten seconds after I called him a liar with my ear to the phone that there was a knock on my front door. Lee was at the door, phone in hand, and wanted me to step outside for a face-to-face conversation. Somehow in my wisdom to call him a liar, I had forgotten he lived across the road.
I suppose the point of this blog is to first apologize if I have offended anyone recently with my comments or actions. I will blame it on the fact I have cancer. We can blame everything on the stinking disease can't we?
But, I won't apologize for being so honest. I think its made me deal with having cancer better in that I no longer suffer the stress of having something build up inside me as this is certainly not healthy. Trust your instinct I say and be honest with yourself, your friends and even your enemies. Follow my lead now, before you get sick, and speak, write and email with honesty. You will be a better person for it.
***
My cousins Grant and Liz Holohan are involved in the Ride to Conquer Cancer.
What I knew but forgot to mention here in my blog is that Grant and Liz have dedicated their ride to me this year. Now that's an honour.
If you would like to learn more about their ride and or make a donation, please follow the link to Grant and Liz's blog at http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Toronto2009?px=1382437&pg=personal&fr_id=1261&fl=en_US&et=lI61B8hZsT27i5oftz_aSQ..&s_tafId=114156
As you are aware, every little bit counts to help find an end to this terrible disease.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, June 22, 2009... (maybe)
My mother-in-law's sister, Nornie, (Jennifer's aunt and therefore my aunt too) sent me a cute and sassy email the other day looking for a much promised update to my blog May 19. She wrote, "Excuse me … but it must be my technological incompetence that is hampering me from accessing your next blog update so passionately promised for May 19 because I am sure you are as good as your word!!!!!"
The truth is Aunt Norine.. I am obviously not as good as my word? But I have been trying. Especially these days.
I write this because I have been struggling recently with my so called 'words'. I recognize and perhaps you have too that I have been a little more crusty recently and have done and said some things since the dreaded day in 2006 when I was diagnosed that the old Barry Larock just wouldn't have mustered enough courage to follow through with. Gone are the days of me being as quiet as a mouse and listening before speaking. Today, I say what's on my mind and haven't been too afraid of who hears it.
I suppose, however, that all comes with the fact that with time potentially running out one might say to himself "who gives a rats ass what people will think."
And so I have spoken, wrote or did some things that others might scorn at. Not to hurt people of course but to be honest to myself and air out my feelings. It has been enlightening to say the least to speak up against and for things I truly believe in. I feel better when I say what is on my mind and I believe I have been healthier for it. I'm certainly not going to get into any specific details of what I have wrote or said since 2006 but I will tell you that sometimes expressing your feelings and being truthful can be fabulous.
To this enlightenment I owe two friends. I've learned from a couple of good friends of mine that being honest with people and your initial feelings is very important to a good solid relationship. Jamie Batley, who has become an exceptional friend over the past few years has taught me to 'call people out' if someone is telling me something I think might be misleading from the truth. Jamie has strong opinions on matters and speaks his mind openly. He will out right call someone a liar if he thinks they are lieing to him. I know, he's done it to me. But I respect him for that because quite honestly he caught me lying and in the end I told him the truth. For that, we are much better friends.
My other friend is Lee Stephens. Lee is the type of person who does what's right for Lee and what's right for Lee's family. He has never cared what people think of him and has even confronted people face to face if he has heard a rumour about him behind his back. Lee's a good person with a good heart and I know he and his family will be there for my family should they eventually need him.
Lee Stephens will tell you the way he feels no matter what you might think afterwards. He is so honest, its scary. We used to be neighbours with the Stephen's and one day Lee and I disagreed on a subject. I called him a liar over the phone because of course its always easier to call someone a liar over the phone. The problem was that it wasn't ten seconds after I called him a liar with my ear to the phone that there was a knock on my front door. Lee was at the door, phone in hand, and wanted me to step outside for a face-to-face conversation. Somehow in my wisdom to call him a liar, I had forgotten he lived across the road.
I suppose the point of this blog is to first apologize if I have offended anyone recently with my comments or actions. I will blame it on the fact I have cancer. We can blame everything on the stinking disease can't we?
But, I won't apologize for being so honest. I think its made me deal with having cancer better in that I no longer suffer the stress of having something build up inside me as this is certainly not healthy. Trust your instinct I say and be honest with yourself, your friends and even your enemies. Follow my lead now, before you get sick, and speak, write and email with honesty. You will be a better person for it.
***
My cousins Grant and Liz Holohan are involved in the Ride to Conquer Cancer.
What I knew but forgot to mention here in my blog is that Grant and Liz have dedicated their ride to me this year. Now that's an honour.
If you would like to learn more about their ride and or make a donation, please follow the link to Grant and Liz's blog at http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Toronto2009?px=1382437&pg=personal&fr_id=1261&fl=en_US&et=lI61B8hZsT27i5oftz_aSQ..&s_tafId=114156
As you are aware, every little bit counts to help find an end to this terrible disease.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, June 22, 2009... (maybe)
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The Man with No Nose!
I've seen lots. More than you can even imagine. Every time I pass through the doors of the Princess Margaret Hospital I am disgusted at the horrible, horrible way cancer treats people.
First of all it doesn't care about your age. Secondly, it doesn't care if you are thin, stout or well built with a body like that of Lance Armstrong. And finally, cancer has no regard for what part of your body it takes. It could be your eye, your liver, your lungs and even your nose. Yes... your nose.
Last week I had to endure another week of trial chemo treatments at the hospital in Toronto. A routine that happens every four weeks now and it sucks. Five days in cancer camp, as I like to refer to it, because like a child who doesn't want to go to summer camp, I'm whisked from my family and friends and subjected to hospital needles, tubes and IV bags. And to top it all off, there is no TV in my room and limited internet access at the Princess Margaret Lodge. I am a prisoner to this disease and I despise it.
I am thankful, of course, for the cheap room and board at the Lodge but I am also angry about the fact that I even know about the PMH Lodge and what it looks like from the inside. My hope is you never do.
Back to the nose. While withstanding all that I have, I was flabbergasted last week when I witnessed for the first time, a man with no nose. Think about it. A man with nothing but a hole in his face. It was covered thankfully by a tiny hospital surgical mask but the dark area around the edges of the mask and the fact that the mask was completely flat against his face told me that this man had no nose. Gone! Deleted from his well aged greying head. Just eyes and a mouth, no nose.
I tell you 'Cancer' does not care. This ugly disease is really beginning to piss me off. I felt so sorry for the man. Not only does he have cancer to deal with but he hasn't got a nose. I still can't get over it. I overheard him tell another person at the Lodge that he was done for two weeks and was returning home to be with his wife. I can't image his life at home. I'm sure his wife loves him very much and his children will be thrilled to see him but without a nose he must be absolutely terrified. I know I would be.
I have been extremely fortunate that my outer appearance hasn't been effected to much by my battle with this disease. I haven't lost any hair with the chemo nor have I vomited... Yet! I am getting more and more nausea with the pills I am taking on this trial. I thank God everyday because I hate to vomit. It hurts my chest.
I thank God for a lot of things these days. 1. I am still here for starters. 2. I thank God that I am still in one piece and able to do most of the things I have always been able to do. My breathing is getting more laboured with exertion but I have to say I'm doing alot better than I thought I would be at this point last year. And 3. I am finally starting to look forward to things instead of wondering if I'll be around to partake in them.
But could I do all these things that I do and be the same person I am without my nose? I'm really not sure about that. Perhaps that's why it terrifies me so much. Then again, I should be one of the most self conscious people around with my short stature, frog-like voice, hunch back and four eyes but I'm not and never have been. I am sure I must have been teased behind my back more times than I can count but it never stopped me. People probably look at me as if I didn't have a nose. But did I really care?
The truth is that I suppose that if I lost my arm or even my nose to cancer I would learn to live with it. Terry Fox learned to run across Canada without his leg. So I can too. I have endured so much in my life I am sure I could survive without a limb or even my nasal appendage. I would just have to breathe a little differently.
So I guess my point to all this is that i am officially announcing that cancer is not now or ever going to become a fear factor in my life. Don't get me wrong. I will think of it every hour of every day because it is always in my thoughts and in everything I do, say and see. And I will, however, have to deal with it head on when I travel to Toronto and the PMH Lodge. But it will change me. It will change the way I see others and especially those at the PMH Lodge as I now feel more than ever before for people with cancer and for those caring for those with cancer, which is often forgotten about when discussing this disease.
I have come to the conclusion after seeing the man with no nose that all things are possible with cancer. I have also discovered in the many articles of successful treatments, miracles and the progress of medicine that cancer can be beaten, no matter the odds or prognosis. The bottom line is that we all must keep fighting; we must keep our membership at the cancer camp; and it is absolutely imperative that we keep smiling everyday for the rest of our lives.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, May 19, 2009... (I promise!)
First of all it doesn't care about your age. Secondly, it doesn't care if you are thin, stout or well built with a body like that of Lance Armstrong. And finally, cancer has no regard for what part of your body it takes. It could be your eye, your liver, your lungs and even your nose. Yes... your nose.
Last week I had to endure another week of trial chemo treatments at the hospital in Toronto. A routine that happens every four weeks now and it sucks. Five days in cancer camp, as I like to refer to it, because like a child who doesn't want to go to summer camp, I'm whisked from my family and friends and subjected to hospital needles, tubes and IV bags. And to top it all off, there is no TV in my room and limited internet access at the Princess Margaret Lodge. I am a prisoner to this disease and I despise it.
I am thankful, of course, for the cheap room and board at the Lodge but I am also angry about the fact that I even know about the PMH Lodge and what it looks like from the inside. My hope is you never do.
Back to the nose. While withstanding all that I have, I was flabbergasted last week when I witnessed for the first time, a man with no nose. Think about it. A man with nothing but a hole in his face. It was covered thankfully by a tiny hospital surgical mask but the dark area around the edges of the mask and the fact that the mask was completely flat against his face told me that this man had no nose. Gone! Deleted from his well aged greying head. Just eyes and a mouth, no nose.
I tell you 'Cancer' does not care. This ugly disease is really beginning to piss me off. I felt so sorry for the man. Not only does he have cancer to deal with but he hasn't got a nose. I still can't get over it. I overheard him tell another person at the Lodge that he was done for two weeks and was returning home to be with his wife. I can't image his life at home. I'm sure his wife loves him very much and his children will be thrilled to see him but without a nose he must be absolutely terrified. I know I would be.
I have been extremely fortunate that my outer appearance hasn't been effected to much by my battle with this disease. I haven't lost any hair with the chemo nor have I vomited... Yet! I am getting more and more nausea with the pills I am taking on this trial. I thank God everyday because I hate to vomit. It hurts my chest.
I thank God for a lot of things these days. 1. I am still here for starters. 2. I thank God that I am still in one piece and able to do most of the things I have always been able to do. My breathing is getting more laboured with exertion but I have to say I'm doing alot better than I thought I would be at this point last year. And 3. I am finally starting to look forward to things instead of wondering if I'll be around to partake in them.
But could I do all these things that I do and be the same person I am without my nose? I'm really not sure about that. Perhaps that's why it terrifies me so much. Then again, I should be one of the most self conscious people around with my short stature, frog-like voice, hunch back and four eyes but I'm not and never have been. I am sure I must have been teased behind my back more times than I can count but it never stopped me. People probably look at me as if I didn't have a nose. But did I really care?
The truth is that I suppose that if I lost my arm or even my nose to cancer I would learn to live with it. Terry Fox learned to run across Canada without his leg. So I can too. I have endured so much in my life I am sure I could survive without a limb or even my nasal appendage. I would just have to breathe a little differently.
So I guess my point to all this is that i am officially announcing that cancer is not now or ever going to become a fear factor in my life. Don't get me wrong. I will think of it every hour of every day because it is always in my thoughts and in everything I do, say and see. And I will, however, have to deal with it head on when I travel to Toronto and the PMH Lodge. But it will change me. It will change the way I see others and especially those at the PMH Lodge as I now feel more than ever before for people with cancer and for those caring for those with cancer, which is often forgotten about when discussing this disease.
I have come to the conclusion after seeing the man with no nose that all things are possible with cancer. I have also discovered in the many articles of successful treatments, miracles and the progress of medicine that cancer can be beaten, no matter the odds or prognosis. The bottom line is that we all must keep fighting; we must keep our membership at the cancer camp; and it is absolutely imperative that we keep smiling everyday for the rest of our lives.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, May 19, 2009... (I promise!)
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
New Chemo, New Hope!
Sometimes life gets in the way of life.
If you can follow that statement you will understand that as I promised to update my blog on January 19, 2009 a certain number of normal events interrupted my abnormal life.
First, the day after I met with my doctor in Toronto to discuss a new Chemotherapy treatment the entire Peterborough Lakers coaching staff, of which I am a part of, was hired three games into the season by the Toronto Rock Lacrosse Club. This professional sport franchise is nothing new to me and what I have been doing for the past four seasons with my friends and fellow coaches Jamie Batley, Bob Keast, Joe Sullivan and Jim Milligan. What is new is that it's TORONTO, and like the beloved Maple Leafs, being associated with them carries a considerable amount of weight throughout the City.
We had 9 days to prepare for our next game and as video coach, this meant a lot of video preparation for the bench coaches and of course the players. Jamie Batley, who was one of the first people to know of my diagnoses, has always reminded me that I must continue life as normal as possible. He also told me that he will continue to push me, in spite of my condition, until it is entirely not possible. If I believe I can do it, I am able.
I respect that. I live with cancer and I choose to direct my own life. I accepted Jamie's request to assist him with the Toronto Rock for that reason. I could have stepped aside and allowed myself to waste away in self pity but I chose to push myself and take on his challenge.
A challenge that has the Rock at a current record of 1 win and 2 losses since we took over. It's not perfect, but we are working to get better and the position is certainly something that I love and in the end being involved in professional sport franchise such as the Toronto Rock, Colorado Mammoth, Edmonton Rush or Chicago Shamrox is something to be extremely proud of in my life.
The other normal event that took place that week was already referred too. As normal as normal can be. Normal to me, these days my life evolves around regular visits to Princess Margaret Hospital for MRIs, CT Scans, check-ups and blood tests. It was during one of these regular visits that I was told by Dr. Sui that things were soon to change. She informed me that I would be put on a new Trial drug which has been used in the U.S. and there has been optimistic results with conditions such as mine. We can all hope that this is true.
So beginning Monday, February 23, 2009, I will endure five consecutive days of infusions at Princess Margaret. This means I will stay at the Princess Margaret Lodge on Jarvis Street and take the free van to the hospital for a daily injection of Chemotherapy. There will be many blood tests and watchful eyes on me for the five days. On the third day, as part of this trial, another drug will be introduced in a pill form. Together, these two poisons are 'GOING' to take away or at least slow down the cancer that is still growing in my lungs.
Following the five days of infusions, the plan is to return home and continue taking the pills for an additional four more days. Only then will I be free of the poisons entering my body. I will then be given three weeks following to recuperate until I have to go through it all again on March 16, 2009. This plan will continue for as long as the drugs work. We are not sure yet of the side effects of these drugs however the normal ones do lead the list: tiredness, hair loss, and of course vomiting. Not to worry friends, my body has adapted to the chemo in the past and I have been fortunate to suffer no such effects. The hope is that will continue.
In spite of that news, the last few weeks have been busy. Many of you probably think I am enjoying a good book or watching a few movies while I am away from work. Others might think I am on deaths door waiting for the Reaper to collect my soul.
No, the truth is I am living my life large. Fulfilling my high school dream of coaching a professional sport and watching my son play competitive hockey. I'm even helping my friend Bill Duff coach a little hockey some nights opening the door of his son's house league hockey team. There is nothing better than watching the smile of Trevor when he comes off the ice in celebration of a goal. Yes, Trevor's smaller than the others, a little weaker skater, but has good hands and works hard each and every shift. Does that remind you of anybody?
The real question, however, is Why do I do all this? Why do I continue to charge full steam ahead?
Simply because cancer should not get in the way of life. I continue to stress to my wife Jennifer and my friends that I have been blessed with this time right now. The cancer is slow and perhaps there may be a cure on the horizon. But I cannot and will not wallow in self pity. I am strong. I will fight. And I will be happy!
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, February 24, 2009
If you can follow that statement you will understand that as I promised to update my blog on January 19, 2009 a certain number of normal events interrupted my abnormal life.
First, the day after I met with my doctor in Toronto to discuss a new Chemotherapy treatment the entire Peterborough Lakers coaching staff, of which I am a part of, was hired three games into the season by the Toronto Rock Lacrosse Club. This professional sport franchise is nothing new to me and what I have been doing for the past four seasons with my friends and fellow coaches Jamie Batley, Bob Keast, Joe Sullivan and Jim Milligan. What is new is that it's TORONTO, and like the beloved Maple Leafs, being associated with them carries a considerable amount of weight throughout the City.
We had 9 days to prepare for our next game and as video coach, this meant a lot of video preparation for the bench coaches and of course the players. Jamie Batley, who was one of the first people to know of my diagnoses, has always reminded me that I must continue life as normal as possible. He also told me that he will continue to push me, in spite of my condition, until it is entirely not possible. If I believe I can do it, I am able.
I respect that. I live with cancer and I choose to direct my own life. I accepted Jamie's request to assist him with the Toronto Rock for that reason. I could have stepped aside and allowed myself to waste away in self pity but I chose to push myself and take on his challenge.
A challenge that has the Rock at a current record of 1 win and 2 losses since we took over. It's not perfect, but we are working to get better and the position is certainly something that I love and in the end being involved in professional sport franchise such as the Toronto Rock, Colorado Mammoth, Edmonton Rush or Chicago Shamrox is something to be extremely proud of in my life.
The other normal event that took place that week was already referred too. As normal as normal can be. Normal to me, these days my life evolves around regular visits to Princess Margaret Hospital for MRIs, CT Scans, check-ups and blood tests. It was during one of these regular visits that I was told by Dr. Sui that things were soon to change. She informed me that I would be put on a new Trial drug which has been used in the U.S. and there has been optimistic results with conditions such as mine. We can all hope that this is true.
So beginning Monday, February 23, 2009, I will endure five consecutive days of infusions at Princess Margaret. This means I will stay at the Princess Margaret Lodge on Jarvis Street and take the free van to the hospital for a daily injection of Chemotherapy. There will be many blood tests and watchful eyes on me for the five days. On the third day, as part of this trial, another drug will be introduced in a pill form. Together, these two poisons are 'GOING' to take away or at least slow down the cancer that is still growing in my lungs.
Following the five days of infusions, the plan is to return home and continue taking the pills for an additional four more days. Only then will I be free of the poisons entering my body. I will then be given three weeks following to recuperate until I have to go through it all again on March 16, 2009. This plan will continue for as long as the drugs work. We are not sure yet of the side effects of these drugs however the normal ones do lead the list: tiredness, hair loss, and of course vomiting. Not to worry friends, my body has adapted to the chemo in the past and I have been fortunate to suffer no such effects. The hope is that will continue.
In spite of that news, the last few weeks have been busy. Many of you probably think I am enjoying a good book or watching a few movies while I am away from work. Others might think I am on deaths door waiting for the Reaper to collect my soul.
No, the truth is I am living my life large. Fulfilling my high school dream of coaching a professional sport and watching my son play competitive hockey. I'm even helping my friend Bill Duff coach a little hockey some nights opening the door of his son's house league hockey team. There is nothing better than watching the smile of Trevor when he comes off the ice in celebration of a goal. Yes, Trevor's smaller than the others, a little weaker skater, but has good hands and works hard each and every shift. Does that remind you of anybody?
The real question, however, is Why do I do all this? Why do I continue to charge full steam ahead?
Simply because cancer should not get in the way of life. I continue to stress to my wife Jennifer and my friends that I have been blessed with this time right now. The cancer is slow and perhaps there may be a cure on the horizon. But I cannot and will not wallow in self pity. I am strong. I will fight. And I will be happy!
Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, February 24, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Live for the NOW... not the future!
In order for me to fulfill a bucket list wish my wife Jennifer instructed me that I could do so on one condition.
"UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG", she said.
So here it goes. Today is Tuesday, January 6, 2009. WOW, I made it to 2009. I have to be happy with that accomplishment alone.
This year I'll be 44 years old in March. The 26th in fact, in case you are wondering. 44 just happens to be my favourite number as well. Which makes things highly ironic as this year may be my last. You see, I think like that all the time. When I last wrote my blog on October 24, 2008, I wondered at that time...
"Is this my last trip?"
"Will I see Christmas?"
"Will I see 2009?"
Questions like these pop into my head constantly. People talk about next summer, when we're 50, what they're doing for retirement. Hell, I'm hoping I live till Christmas.
But then again, here I am. My health for most part has been pretty good. I have been congested more recently and coughing at night. That is expected with my disease and its progression. However, one must go on and deal with those effects. Overall though, its the mind that struggles with the end. I keep telling myself not to think about what will happen but live for today, tomorrow and two days after that. Live in the now, ease your pain by taking advantage of your condition now and not the future. For we never really know what the future will bring to any of us. This is important to remember for anyone, healthy or sick. Live for today, not for tomorrow.
So that's why I'm going on another adventure. A bucket list wish to see Las Vegas. My good friend John called me recently and asked me to go with him and his friend, Don. "We're going for five days," he said. "That will be plenty of time for you to get into trouble." John also advised me that all I had to pay for was the flight and bring my own play money. He would look after the rest, accommodations and meals. John is an amazing guy. You have to love a friend like that.
So I asked Jennifer. Of course she said because she knows how important is for me to do everything I can before I can't. Jennifer had one condition, of which I am doing right now. "UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG," she said.
For the past couple months since my last Blog, I've been in pretty good shape. My brother and I had a wonderful trip to sunny Curacao. Temperatures of 33 degress celcuis day and night. Lots of beaches with pearly blue water and sand. A plethera of drinks and a golf course that took way too many strokes to complete. It was a true brother to brother bonding adventure.
Then came the Christmas season. Fast paced and enormously busy, I was lucky to see my new great neice, who is just as beautiful as her mother was as a baby. I was lucky to spend Christmas Day as the host of Christmas dinner, along with Jennifer and Trent, with my family. On boxing day, we travelled to Barrie and spent the day with Jennifer's parents and her brothers family. My brother-in-law, David, and his wife Trish have twin girls, who are 3-years old now and again as precious as can be. It was a tremedous thrill to read a book to them in my lap that day. Something, I hope, they will always remember.
Aside from those two busy months, I have been living life as normal as can be expected. Following Trent to hockey practice and games. Sharing in household chores like cleaning and cooking. And getting plenty of rest and watching movies. There are times when I don't feel ill. That is until the time comes when I have to force down my throat four little pills, called Chemotherapy, every 12 hours for two consecutive weeks. It is then that I am rudely reminded of my fate and my mind begins to wonder.
"Will I make it to my birthday?"
"Will I get to see Trent play lacrosse this summer?"
"Will Jennifer, Trent and I go on another holiday?"
It sucks. Believe me I know. The only positive thing I can take from this situation is that life is what you make it. And I'm going to make it last for as long as I can. I'm living in the NOW. And I don't give two shits about the future.
***
One final thing... if you notice on the right hand side of the blog at the bottom there is a section called Friends of Barry. Please click on the follow button and add your name to show me that people are reading this blog. I would certainly appreciate it. Thanks!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog, (I promise), January 19, 2009
"UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG", she said.
So here it goes. Today is Tuesday, January 6, 2009. WOW, I made it to 2009. I have to be happy with that accomplishment alone.
This year I'll be 44 years old in March. The 26th in fact, in case you are wondering. 44 just happens to be my favourite number as well. Which makes things highly ironic as this year may be my last. You see, I think like that all the time. When I last wrote my blog on October 24, 2008, I wondered at that time...
"Is this my last trip?"
"Will I see Christmas?"
"Will I see 2009?"
Questions like these pop into my head constantly. People talk about next summer, when we're 50, what they're doing for retirement. Hell, I'm hoping I live till Christmas.
But then again, here I am. My health for most part has been pretty good. I have been congested more recently and coughing at night. That is expected with my disease and its progression. However, one must go on and deal with those effects. Overall though, its the mind that struggles with the end. I keep telling myself not to think about what will happen but live for today, tomorrow and two days after that. Live in the now, ease your pain by taking advantage of your condition now and not the future. For we never really know what the future will bring to any of us. This is important to remember for anyone, healthy or sick. Live for today, not for tomorrow.
So that's why I'm going on another adventure. A bucket list wish to see Las Vegas. My good friend John called me recently and asked me to go with him and his friend, Don. "We're going for five days," he said. "That will be plenty of time for you to get into trouble." John also advised me that all I had to pay for was the flight and bring my own play money. He would look after the rest, accommodations and meals. John is an amazing guy. You have to love a friend like that.
So I asked Jennifer. Of course she said because she knows how important is for me to do everything I can before I can't. Jennifer had one condition, of which I am doing right now. "UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG," she said.
For the past couple months since my last Blog, I've been in pretty good shape. My brother and I had a wonderful trip to sunny Curacao. Temperatures of 33 degress celcuis day and night. Lots of beaches with pearly blue water and sand. A plethera of drinks and a golf course that took way too many strokes to complete. It was a true brother to brother bonding adventure.
Then came the Christmas season. Fast paced and enormously busy, I was lucky to see my new great neice, who is just as beautiful as her mother was as a baby. I was lucky to spend Christmas Day as the host of Christmas dinner, along with Jennifer and Trent, with my family. On boxing day, we travelled to Barrie and spent the day with Jennifer's parents and her brothers family. My brother-in-law, David, and his wife Trish have twin girls, who are 3-years old now and again as precious as can be. It was a tremedous thrill to read a book to them in my lap that day. Something, I hope, they will always remember.
Aside from those two busy months, I have been living life as normal as can be expected. Following Trent to hockey practice and games. Sharing in household chores like cleaning and cooking. And getting plenty of rest and watching movies. There are times when I don't feel ill. That is until the time comes when I have to force down my throat four little pills, called Chemotherapy, every 12 hours for two consecutive weeks. It is then that I am rudely reminded of my fate and my mind begins to wonder.
"Will I make it to my birthday?"
"Will I get to see Trent play lacrosse this summer?"
"Will Jennifer, Trent and I go on another holiday?"
It sucks. Believe me I know. The only positive thing I can take from this situation is that life is what you make it. And I'm going to make it last for as long as I can. I'm living in the NOW. And I don't give two shits about the future.
***
One final thing... if you notice on the right hand side of the blog at the bottom there is a section called Friends of Barry. Please click on the follow button and add your name to show me that people are reading this blog. I would certainly appreciate it. Thanks!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog, (I promise), January 19, 2009
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