tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88766054784214647092024-02-07T22:09:32.052-05:00Barry Larock's Cancer Treatment2009 Christmas photo in front of tree. Barry, Trent and Jennifer LarockBarry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-30825024866108002202010-04-09T16:03:00.003-04:002010-04-10T10:43:03.464-04:00My Choice for Passing On...Many things have been written and discussed over the centuries of human existence on what happens when you pass on.<br /><br />Religion, of course, is the anchor that most of the Christian global population believes in with God taking our souls to heaven to be at peace, for evermore.<br /><br />Others believe that when we pass on our souls are reincarnated into another body to live yet another life. All so that our soul may learn to grow and appreciate its journey to peace, for evermore.<br /><br />The third option is, quite frankly, as abrupt as driving down any highway in Ontario and looking out the window to see the day’s road kill on the shoulder of the highway. One day we are here. The next, we are gone.<br /><br />So what do I believe in? I asked myself this question one day recently because a lot of things go through your mind when you are faced with passing on. And like anything I buy into, I’d like to know my options.<br /><br />I’ve researched all three for awhile now. First, reading two books on reincarnation and how the process of learning about your past lives can be channeled through hypnosis. I’ve seen hypnosis and isn’t that popular entertainment at Corporate Conventions and on Carnival Cruise Lines? Don’t get me wrong the books are extremely interesting. They say that when you pass on your future lives learn and grow from your past lives and your soul, or inner being, enters new bodies to develop an overall peacefulness much like religion informs us of heaven, and being with God.<br /><br />Reincarnation is also interesting because I would love to know what my past lives were and how I passed on in them. We all would, I’m sure. The hard part about this option for me is that when I called to see about the possibility of regressing to a prior life through hypnosis, I was told the charge would be $75 for a three-hour session. When I set out to examine reincarnation, I honestly didn’t think about the cost of doing so.<br /><br />Another fascinating aspect of reincarnation is the definition of a soul mate. Most people think the term soul mate has romantic meaning. But that is not true. As I see it, soul mate has really little to do with a star-crossed lover and more to do with an acquaintance, friend or even family member. In reincarnation, a soul mate is everyone who you come in contact with in this life; or who you have been in contact with before, in a previous life. So you could have been your grandfather’s teacher; or your brother may have been your girlfriend’s father, in a former life. I would prefer to think of it that way. And so, if I am reincarnated, my first request would be to be reincarnated as Trent’s nurse at his retirement home.<br /><br />Now the third option, to me, just isn’t possible. Call it what you may, but it’s the way I feel, how I have lived and the rationale of why we all are on this earth as human beings. With our emotions, our ability to communicate and all the other attributes that make us Human over Animal, it’s easy to see that one of those reasons must be a soul or life force. And therefore if Human has a soul, then an Animal doesn’t. When an Animal passes on, its gift to the Earth is to replenish the ground with its composition. The Lion King termed it, the Cycle of Life. I just think there has to be more.<br /><br />And so that brings us to Religion. A bountiful and pure answer that is driven by faith. To trust that we will be looked after by God is certainly pleasing. He is our Shepherd who watches over us and instills little miracles amongst us occasionally. These help breed the faith.<br /><br />My mother says I am a miracle. Jennifer and I think Trent is a miracle. And I’m sure all of you have your own miracle in your life. Some of you might think that my choice to pass on and have faith in Religion is sort of a sure thing; but, it wasn’t.<br /><br />Religion has not been so pleasing to our family over the years. Two events come to mind. First, my mother was raised Baptist and my father, Catholic. My grandfather refused to attend my parents wedding because of my father’s choice of a Baptist woman. My father is kind and loving but I know too he is stubborn and with his long memory his relationship with his father was never really the same. That was until my grandfather had nowhere to go and with my parents good hearts took him for the last 10 years of his life. There my mother and father fed, cleaned and cared for him before his death at age 91. A difference of religion can play havoc on families until family values from religion prevail.<br /><br />The second story begins when my young two-year-old body was suffering in hospital in Toronto. One Sunday my parents, eager to see me, indicated to members of the congregation at Park Street Baptist Church that it they would not be attending Sunday’s service as they were off to visit me in Toronto for the day. One member of the congregation was extremely upset by this news and spoke proudly that God will look after me and that they should stay at Church instead. (Note: My mother, to this day, won’t tell me who the woman was but does note that the woman attended her 50th wedding anniversary.) Well, that conversation did not sit well with my parents and so trips to Park Street Baptist Church lessened and lessened when my bothers got involved in hockey until they were no more. My mother said she introduced us all too religion but wasn’t going to force it on us either.<br /><br />And so religion in my parents’ home was never really discussed. My mother rarely took me to church only when I asked what Sunday school was all about. We went a few times. I listened to some stories. But God never showed up at Church and I’m sure I asked him really, really nicely in a prayer or two to reach into my chest and fix my heart so that I do everything all my friends could do. But he never did. So to me religion was always just an option, as my mother described.<br /><br />I renewed my strength in God when I was baptized in my mid-30s. Why was I baptized so late in life? Well it was due to two special events. The first was the birth of Trent Larock in 1996. Trent was two years in the making and when he was born, I pledged to God and anyone that would listen that I would rekindle my questions about faith and promised to take him to church. We did that.<br /><br />And then in the year 2000, I had my Mitral Valve replaced with a true pig valve in my heart, the gift of modern medicine technology. With those two life-altering events, Jennifer and I joined St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church and became good standing members of the congregation. We took in the teas; I joined the buildings committee and even post-dated our cheques for weekly contributions.<br /><br />All was good. Then Trent and I were baptized. I wanted to be before my operation to ensure that we would all get to Heaven someday together. After the baptism and for a year or so following we continued to church each Sunday, but then Trent joined hockey. And a practice here, game there led to another here and another there. Soon we were not going to church anymore. But the bottom line is Jennifer and I had restored our faith in God and hopefully passed a little on to Trent for the future.<br /><br />When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2006 I was angry. Why me was the common phrase. I asked God the question, “Why did you do this to me God after all I have been through?” I never got an answer. I wasn’t going back to church. I was done with faith… until recently.<br /><br />In my research for what happens after you pass on, I was surprisingly drawn to pick up the Bible. I didn’t want to but when reading about reincarnation there were but a few, believe it or not, references to the Bible. Things sounded familiar, a lot of what I believed in now and therefore it coxed me to think about reading it again… but I didn’t.<br /><br />Instead I went to Chapters where I found a book by Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, entitled The Lord is My Shepherd – Healing Wisdom of the 23rd Psalm. I chose this book because it is based on the 23rd Psalm; the only psalm that I remember as a child and what I thought was a prayer to god, asking to keep us safe at night while we sleep.<br /><br />The book is quite interesting because it is actually based on each line of the famous 23rd Psalm. The author takes each word of the Psalm and turns it into readable layman terms or Barry’s English as I call it. It’s purifying, encouraging and magnificent for the soul. I am reading the book for a second time now and underlining key words and phrases. I want Jennifer to keep this book and read it. Give it to Trent if he wants to read it. This one Psalm answers a lot of questions.<br /><br />The other day I picked up the Bible. I started at the beginning and read well into the Old Testament. There are a lot of names in the Bible and stories about 900 year old men and a flood that covered the entire earth. Still, the most interesting stories are in the New Testament about Jesus. I find the Bible easier to read now then when I was younger or even when I was healthier. Perhaps that’s why people turn to God near death. It just makes more sense to me now. It feels good to open it and just start reading anywhere.<br /><br />I made a choice the other day to believe in a spiritual departure. I’m going to pass on and go to heaven because of two reasons. First, I was baptized and second, because it is my mind’s choice. I am what I am because of who I am. I choose religion.<br /><br />Thank you for reading and sharing,<br /><br />Next blog... April 15, 2010... What's the dose of the day?Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-50312444266719398952010-03-08T10:44:00.012-05:002010-03-08T13:52:07.676-05:00A Dog Day Afternoon - Buddy and I<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQlunaUiXjA4ysFaDW0o0YjtgNYKm4j_OeaaUm4McetttwahwR1KNtmQyjiNBFzpvCETMKdE-l2YMH_Z5dWWZEeTlFzTqoCOmRk7VaHbKvns7qzXvNkfxyA6pbT3FyEc3kJOJ3C47yScOt/s1600-h/DSC_0070.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446324030463598018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQlunaUiXjA4ysFaDW0o0YjtgNYKm4j_OeaaUm4McetttwahwR1KNtmQyjiNBFzpvCETMKdE-l2YMH_Z5dWWZEeTlFzTqoCOmRk7VaHbKvns7qzXvNkfxyA6pbT3FyEc3kJOJ3C47yScOt/s320/DSC_0070.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Sorry this entry is a little past February 15, 2010 as promised but I hve been very, very busy these days training a puppy. Or at least attempting to train a puppy.<br /><br />Buddy Larock, our newest edition, came into exsistence on October 17, 2009. We purchased him from a breeder in January and in a week from Wednesday on March 17, 2010 Buddy celebrates his five-month birthday. Oh boy, will that be party? That is if I don't strangle him first.<br /><br />You see, training a puppy is extremely hard work. It demands a lot of attention, a schedule, rules and of course discipline. And these are all simply for the trainer. The puppy, well he's just happy go lucky puppy, bouncing, eating, pooping and peeing wherever and whenever he likes.<br /><br />"Oh that training", Buddy throws out at me telepathically when I speak to him about leaking in the house. "Do I get a treat for that one?" is usually what telepathically follows.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, the unconditional love that Buddy brings to my life everyday is a welcomed treasure. He sits with me when I'm blue, he comforts and snuggles with me when I'm tired and he does whatever he can to make me smile whether its chasing his own tail, jumping from furniture to furniture or simply biting the back of Trent's ankles when he walks (now that's the funniest).<br /><br />Buddy is a real helper too. He often wants to share his toys with me and will bring them and place them in a pile in front of my feet. He also helps me with tieing my shoes always getting his little paws on top of my fingers to knot the laces while using his razor sharp teeth to gnaw on my flesh. He often helps as well to wake Jennifer up when she sleeps in on weekdays and the weekends. Instead of me taking the heat, Buddy is now an easy blame for suddenly jumping on the bed and biting the very tip of Jennifer's nose. "Oh sorry! ...hehehe" Buddy says to me again telepathically.<br /><br />The key to good training is consistency which is difficult in a house of three people. I am becoming Mr. Mean while Jennifer is Ms. Softy and Trent is well... 13. He doesn't handle poo well or Buddy peeing in his bedroom, which Buddy apparently thinks is hilarious, espeically when Trent often leaves his door <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTWkhMcn8aK62UeWa1nJw4vFqEF3Egwqs6_gbzKw8hefS_XAdq3y5szDv8BVujbM5s8SLNRvIvRMwqV7dKizvWYpFysxFUoxrMVkUVFZy7B-KSyJLYfsTm6aDvI4HPeE6LM66t0Qo_9lv/s1600-h/DSC_0068.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446336145711139922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTWkhMcn8aK62UeWa1nJw4vFqEF3Egwqs6_gbzKw8hefS_XAdq3y5szDv8BVujbM5s8SLNRvIvRMwqV7dKizvWYpFysxFUoxrMVkUVFZy7B-KSyJLYfsTm6aDvI4HPeE6LM66t0Qo_9lv/s320/DSC_0068.jpg" border="0" /></a>open for just a few minutes. Overall Buddy is taking to training and is less and less hard work and more and more wonderful. Don't get me wrong, he's learning as are we, his three trainers.<br /><br />In between training sessions when I am at home most of the day, Buddy and I catch up on some T.V. together, read a good book or have an afternoon nap every once-in-a-while. He has been a very welcomed edition to keep me company. And although, hard work is something that tires you out a little faster and keeps your body moving when you want to sit and relax, Buddy is exactly what I needed. He's smart, he funny and best of all he's very good at bitting Trent's ankles..hehehe. I think I will go a give him a hug right now!<br /><br />***<br /><br />So much to write about, so little time. I have to be honest and say that time is getting shorter. I am on oxygen at night and my breathing during the day is more laboured. I am trying my best to get up during the day and get out but somedays I just need to stay home and take it easy. NO one wants to admit they are dying and that's not what I am doing but I know and can tell I am getting sicker and sicker than even before January.<br /><br />So much to write about, so little time. I realize I just wrote that but its true.<br /><br />I have always wanted to write a book about my life and perhaps I should have but then again... who would read it? I mentioned on this blog that I honestly believe that I have done some very amazing things in my life that most people only dream of doing. And I have done so with every reason to feel sorry for myself. No reason to do that. So here's but one example.<br /><br />The year is 1989 and I am working part-time for the Peterborough Sun, a small weekly newspaper in Peterborough. My parents, sister and her two children are going to Chicago to see friends of my sister who moved there with her husband, John Black, to work for Sears. I join them on the road trip. But before I go, I sell it to the newspaper and to the Chicago Blackhawks that I want to do an article on Steve Larmer, a Peterborough native and leading goal scorer of the Chicago Blackhawks, when I am in Chicago. So I arrange for a press pass to the old Chicago Stadium. My friend, Paul Jensen, thinks I'm crazy and told me I wouldn't get a press pass. I proved him wrong.<br /><br />My father, nephew and sister's friend husband attend the game and I make my way to the press box at Chicago Stadium. Now this is an original six franchise and has been around since 1926. The building is in a very tough part of Chicago and go for it, like anyone else would.<br /><br />I proudly show my pass and enter the press room which is full of food and drinks and NHL players out of the line-up. There are a few media guys as well like Mickey Redmond, also from Peterborough, but I do not approach him or bring it up. The Blackhawks are playing the Detroit Red Wings that night and so the Savard - Yzerman match-up is the only thing being discussed. I stand by myself and munch on the free food.<br /><br />As the game starts I take my press box plastic chair, sorry nothing stylish, and sit down next to Bob Murray, an older veteran Blackhawks defenceman. After some brief conversation on who I was and what I was doing there, I settled in to watch the game beside my new friend Bob. The contest becomes a game filled with Yzerman moves that wonder the mind and Savardian spins that causes one to shutter. But the best moves of the night come from another player and I had no idea who he was because it was his debut that season, Jeremy Roenick. A young hot-shot that was rather small but fiesty as fiesty can be.<br /><br />Following the game, I did my best to make it quickly through the crowd with my press pass snuggled tightly to my chest pocket until I had to flash it several times to the mature ushers enroute to the dressing room. I did say 1926 didn't I. I didn't know those ushers still worked there.<br /><br />On my way down the stairs towards the dressing rooms I ran into Steve Larmer leaving the arena rather quickly. If I had been 20-seconds more, I would have missed him and my interview. Something that would not have looked good on my resume. So quckly I talked to Steve, otherwise known as Grandpa in the Blackhawks dressing room for his constant chewing of gum and laid back attitude towards the NHL persona. You see, Steve Larmer just considered hockey his job and never really looked it as a big deal. He did his job so well that he eventually won a Stanley Cup for it. That's not a bad way to look at it. Maybe more players should remember how lucky they are to be working for the NHL product.<br /><br />After my interview with Steve, I made my way to get a quote off of Mike Keenan, coach of the Blackhawks. I had met Mike Keenan in Peterborough months before when the Petes had a roast of Scotty Bowman and both Bowman and Keenan were there. When I finally arrived at the dressing room I turned left into the large players room instead of right to the coaches room and all of a sudden someone yelled... "What the F*&^K are you doing here?"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkFVxiyTTx-Prfkjdvm6zBbdxWuB_ou9wXfvGts3dOuIBzbDXbGk_pU8cYwflbV4JpNSR9zWtuFGZO0Z-Tx8nxJYquFwAM4zZ5Q3Syluc2lvp7U_xHOKvJ4Uw1vTifssXwKTCI3jiuVGI/s1600-h/pang_darren_action.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446326613028298786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkFVxiyTTx-Prfkjdvm6zBbdxWuB_ou9wXfvGts3dOuIBzbDXbGk_pU8cYwflbV4JpNSR9zWtuFGZO0Z-Tx8nxJYquFwAM4zZ5Q3Syluc2lvp7U_xHOKvJ4Uw1vTifssXwKTCI3jiuVGI/s320/pang_darren_action.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Amongst Denis Savard, Dirk Graham, Steve Thomas, Doug Wilson and Jeremy Roenick, who just scored two goals that night, an old friend, just a skate blade taller than me, started to cross the room towards me. And you all know him too. You watched him during the 2010 Olympics and you should be able to tell by his bald head. It was Darren Pang. Panger and I played lacrosse against each other in Peewee. Darren, stayed at my parents house on Grady Avenue when he was in a lacrosse tournament as a peewee at 12 and then the following year, I stayed at his house when I went to a tournament in his hometown of Gloucester the next summer. We were majors that year and we played against each other. I stopped him on a breakaway and he scored on me twice. You don't forget people like Darren Pang. Beleive it or not, but Darren Pang and I went to see the movie GREASE together in a theatre when it first came out. And we grew up to be the same height.. imagine that!<br /><br />I used to work at the Memorial Centre as well. From 1982 to 1988 I worked under Gary Watkins and Peter Bujold sweeping seats and eventually driving the Zamboni. When Panger played for the Ottawa 67s in Junior we would meet before the game or after and chat for a few minutes and Steve Yzerman who knew Panger as well from hockey days in Ottawa would also join us if he could. Sorry.. back to my story.<br /><br />So Darren Pang comes over and starts to ask me how I am and we talk for about five minutes before he introduces me to everyone in the room. I almost walked on the middle carpet, a Chiefs head and Blackhawk logo, which is a NO, NO in that dressing room. Boy did I get the look. Panger then takes me to the coaches room and introduces me to Mike Keenan, who really had no idea we had met in Peterborough but had to make me feel good so nodded an oh yeah, I remember before I asked him a few questions about Steve Larmer.<br /><br />After a couple of quotes from Iron Mike I made my way back up from the bowels of Chicago Stadium to find my father, nephew and sisters' friend husband. We made it to our car safely and off we drove to his home. Not a bad night of work for a part-time sports reporter at the Peterborough Sun. Was it worth asking for a press pass? ABSOLUTELY...<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next blog... March 25, 2010... House of Commons Adventures</div>Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-73608625455062197372010-02-04T11:55:00.010-05:002010-02-04T13:21:18.718-05:00Let's Just See How I Am DoingThey say no news is good news but when there is news... do we really want to hear it?<br /><br />Some say "yes, course we do", while others will say "it all depends on the severity". For me, I always say give it to me straight, good or bad because like it or not, that's just the way it is.<br /><br />So when Dr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Siu</span> informed me on January 25 that the cancer had grown slightly since my last CT-Scan in November, I wasn't surprised. I could sense it. I had been struggling with shortness of breath at times and this coughing at night was driving me crazy. The reality is that things are getting worse and I now know I need further help to manage.<br /><br />At the conclusion of my last appointment it was decided that I would go on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Tarveca</span>, an inhibitor cancer drug that can, in small cell lung patients, slow down or stop the progression of cancer. Of course this is not a cure nor is there a guarantee it will work but hopefully it will buy me more a little more time in the long run. It was also decided at this appointment that Dr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Siu</span> would arrange for oxygen at night for me and I am too continue with my puffers during the day. All of this medication would all help to make me feel better and keep my quality of life more normal.<br /><br />Now this is where the story gets interesting. You see, I have never been one for doing something easy. In fact, both Jennifer and I have always done things the hard way. For example, Trent was two years in the making. Some may call that the 'fun way' but when you're eager to have your first child, two years is a long time to wait.<br /><br />So I arrive home with my medication <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Tarceva</span> and take the first pill on the first day. On the second day, I take two pills and for the next four days, two pills each day. Unfortunately, when Saturday morning arrived I decided to count the number of pills left which were to last me a month and the numbers did not add up. I did not have enough pills left to finish the month.<br /><br />As foolish as one can be, I ended up figuring out that I did not read the literature properly and instead of being short pills, I was taking too many pills and therefore overdosed on my supply of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Tarceva</span>. I took two per day instead of the prescribed one. A rash like no other rash developed on my face, neck, scalp and torso. I was getting as red as the brightest strawberry and as itchy as the biggest summer mosquito bite brings. After figuring out my blunder, I immediately called the hospital to see if I was going to die earlier than expected and spoke with a doctor at Princess Margaret Hospital who ended up being the boss of my doctor, Dr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Siu</span>.<br /><br />The doctor asked me a few questions pertaining to my general health and after I bored him with what I thought was a lengthy history of my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">congenital</span> heart problems and numerous cancer treatments, he simply said, "oh". Then continued, "well you seem to be doing <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">OK</span> if after four days of taking the extra pills you're still standing. But please stop taking them immediately and don't take anymore until you see your doctor on Monday."<br /><br />And so I did. For a week now I have suffered with the rash, even after getting some cream and an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">antibiotic</span> following my appointment February 1st. I am still horribly embarrassed, however, considering my history with medications and my stupidity in overdosing and potentially cutting my life even shorter than it is. So people, that's why it is so very important to read your prescription bottle directions every time you take it. And don't forget to read the inside sheets of your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">prescription</span> detailing all side effects as well.<br /><br />Today, February 4, I am finally feeling better. My scalp doesn't itch, my face is no longer apple red and fatigue is not dragging my ass around the house slowly. I can now focus again on going back Monday Febraury 8 to Toronto for another blood test with hope of getting back on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Tarceva</span> and YES... taking the dose correctly. Perhaps then and with the good grace of God I can stick around a whole lot longer.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Just wanted to pass along thanks to a few people who have helped us in the past few weeks with rides and just for being there when I need someone to talk too. Andy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Wasson</span>, Ed Burke, and Jamie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Batley</span> have all driven me to Toronto recently. They are good friends and their time from work and family to drive me is greatly appreciated... Katrina <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Brumpton</span> was the first person I called when I realized I overdosed on my pills. Katrina works at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">PRHC</span> and she helped to calm me down and gave me great advice on what to do and who to call next.<br /><br />Knowing I have these great people in my life helps me understand why I was selected to bear all of my illnesses. I have tried hard all my life to be a good friend to those who have treated me with respect and who have accepted me for who I am in spite of all of my health shortcomings. The time has come for me to slow down and allow some of that hard work to gently fall on the shoulders of my true friends. They don't just help me because they feel sorry for me. They do it because they know I have earned their friendship, their trust and their love. And that is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">exactly</span> what friendship is all about.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next blog... February 15, 2010... Dog Day AfternoonBarry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-31929346422695038902010-01-12T08:30:00.006-05:002010-01-12T10:09:00.129-05:00It's a Wonderful Life<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicETRLxEutR1m2otUEQqZtKxTr4GLXNKpcdyp3CGmcJDp_uv_VxNGyx7FXccvrHQu9V4FJFWtwBtjyrxMA5af4g4rfw96iKDNIAriTU4aeMyFLsi6BQ8DNTMZFdHdrYKUHpowg-FFGDf7J/s1600-h/buddy1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425870543736185506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicETRLxEutR1m2otUEQqZtKxTr4GLXNKpcdyp3CGmcJDp_uv_VxNGyx7FXccvrHQu9V4FJFWtwBtjyrxMA5af4g4rfw96iKDNIAriTU4aeMyFLsi6BQ8DNTMZFdHdrYKUHpowg-FFGDf7J/s320/buddy1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Christmas has come and Christmas has gone for another year. Are we all happy that it's over?<br /><br />Not me. I find that time of year the one time when you can sit on your ass and do nothing and not get into trouble for it. Sure your spouse or significant other is always looking at you to assist with drinks, put out food for guests, or clean up after everyone leaves, but for the most part you can leave your pajamas on all day and nobody really cares. At least for few days.<br /><br />In my last blog, I stated that I was going to take this Christmas season to enjoy it with Jennifer and Trent. And yes, we did thank you. It truly is a Wonderful Life.<br /><br />I don't believe you want to read all the details of the Holiday Season but aside from being busy with family and parties, we did enjoy a few movies and Jennifer's newest board game, Blockus, together. Trent and Jennifer are rather good at it while I am, well... terrible. It's ok, I love to see the smiles on their faces when I pretend I'm such a bad loser.<br /><br />On January 11, 2010, which was yesterday, I travelled to Princess Margaret Hospital for an appointment with Dr. Siu. The hope was that she would find a miracle trial over the holidays that would work on my Cancer and I would be cured in the very near future. Wouldn't that be friggin fantastic? The reality is there is no such drug yet.<br /><br />You see, over the course of the holidays, I contracted bronchitis for which my local doctor, Dr. Ahee, prescribed an antibiotic. It certainly worked to get rid of the infection but the truth is that despite my determination to deny it, my breathing is getting more labored these days when I climb stairs, walk and/or do simple chores like take out the garbage.<br /><br />I also have acquired a cough that many have supportively offered as a 'time of the year virus', but I know differently. I can feel it. I am keeping Jennifer awake at night and its causing me aches in my back and chest daily.<br /><br />Dr. Siu confirmed that perhaps it may be the cancer growing so its was decided to order a CT-Scan on January 19, 2010 to determine its validity. At this time there is no new trial chemotherapy to give me but she did offer two other cancer drugs for me to read about on the internet and find out if they are covered through our work drug plans. You see, trials are 'free' while 'cancer drugs' cost lots of money. There are substantial side effects as well that one has to consider. She also offered the word I have most dreaded in recent discussions, oxygen. For me, being on oxygen was the worst thing in the world when I was in hospital as a child. First off, you look sick, secondly, you are sick if on oxygen and finally, its a bugger to get around with it. I will definitely have to read more about it first before I agree to it.<br /><br />Cancer! It has to be the most hated disease, at least, in the Northern Hemisphere. Why can't it just get along with the body? I mean, Cancer wants to just take you over so quickly. I wouldn't mind sharing my body with a little cancer for say 30 - 50 years or so and then I would surely give it up for it. Go ahead, take my wilted, aged body and knock yourself out Cancer. But not 3, 5, or 10 years at best... that's way too damn short in terms of time remaining.<br /><br />Trust me, I am not giving up but you have to admit that when a terminal illness moves to a next stage you get a whole lot more worried. Especially when the end seems to be closing in. It reminds me of Luke and Hans Solo in the trash compactor. Again that was only a movie with a happy ending.<br /><br />On a happier note, we added another addition to our family this past weekend. Being home without my friend B.J. who passed away in November, was really tough on me. So Jennifer and I have been searching on the internet for a new friend. We found 11 week-old Buddy Larock, our newest Shitzpoo, on Kijji and picked him up in Bowmanville Saturday.<br /><br />He's as black as midnight and you can barely see his bright little eyes until he looks up at you to say "I love you". Trent and Buddy are already good friends and I know Buddy and I will spend lots of time in the next few weeks learning how to pee where he is suppose to and not all over the house. I haven't quite figured out yet, however, who will be training who.<br /><br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog... January 25... "Let's Just See How I'm Doing"</div>Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-55619289668432512572009-12-03T09:14:00.004-05:002009-12-03T15:19:39.518-05:00The Results Are In...I knew I would miss someone.. or three.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I hope that's everyone now. To everyone, thank you once again.<br /><br />***<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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'.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Thanks for sharing and reading...<br /><br />Next blog... January 1st.... It's a Wonderful LifeBarry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-17466148197779595442009-11-18T10:58:00.006-05:002009-11-18T12:12:35.951-05:00Thank you to my driversTime to say Thanks!<br /><br />There simply are not enough ways to thank those who have assisted Jennifer, Trent and I during this time of illness.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />My extraordinary team of drivers include:<br /><br />Pat and Lorraine Larock - Mom and Dad<br />Beth Latchford<br />Blair Larock<br />Natalie Burgess<br />Nathan Latchford<br />Andy Wasson<br />Craig Field<br />Bill Duff<br />Ed Burke<br />Kelly O'Brien<br />Jamie Batley<br />Sue Ross<br />Joe Sullivan<br />Bob Keast<br />John Oke<br />Lee Stephens<br />Brandon Blancher<br />Gary Dalliday<br /><br />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.<br /><br />***<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I often wondered as B.J. aged as to whether or not he or I would go first.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next bog... November 27.. the Results are InBarry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-30186473057818427432009-09-09T21:36:00.003-04:002009-09-09T21:40:41.016-04:00A Fabulous Summer Indeed...A lot can be said about this past summer. There are just too many memories to type in this blog.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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).<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Oh and if you’re looking for me, I am here in downtown Toronto, Monday to Friday for the next 5 weeks.<br /><br />And I know it’s a long, long way from PEI and our family’s fabulous vacation. But I do have the good memories.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing! Next blog, September 17, 2009.. What else do I have to do?Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-82152504051750336102009-06-07T13:19:00.012-04:002009-06-08T14:26:17.096-04:00Good as my Word...This is for my Aunt Norine.<br /><br />My mother-in-law's sister, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nornie</span>, (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!!!!!"<br /><br />The truth is Aunt Norine.. I am obviously not as good as my word? But I have been trying. Especially these days.<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">diagnosed</span> that the old Barry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Larock</span> 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.<br /><br />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."<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">certainly</span> 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.<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Batley</span>, 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Lee Stephens will tell you the way he feels no matter what you might think afterwards. He is so honest, its <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">scary</span>. 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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />***<br /><br />My cousins Grant and Liz <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Holohan</span> are involved in the Ride to Conquer Cancer.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Toronto2009?px=1382437&pg=personal&fr_id=1261&fl=en_US&et=lI61B8hZsT27i5oftz_aSQ..&s_tafId=114156">http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Toronto2009?px=1382437&pg=personal&fr_id=1261&fl=en_US&<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">et</span>=<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">lI</span>61B8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">hZsT</span>27i5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">oftz</span>_<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">aSQ</span>..&s_<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">tafId</span>=114156</a><br />As you are aware, every little bit counts to help find an end to this terrible disease.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, June 22, 2009... (maybe)Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-62938661472737725542009-05-05T22:30:00.009-04:002009-05-06T00:10:01.778-04:00The 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, May 19, 2009... (I promise!)Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-75857508427218807342009-02-17T20:01:00.011-05:002009-02-19T16:34:32.495-05:00New Chemo, New Hope!Sometimes life gets in the way of life.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />The real question, however, is Why do I do all this? Why do I continue to charge full steam ahead?<br /><br />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!<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing.... next blog, February 24, 2009Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-10852995514644428032009-01-06T11:26:00.009-05:002009-01-06T16:34:29.575-05:00Live 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.<br /><br />"UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG", she said.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />"Is this my last trip?"<br />"Will I see Christmas?"<br />"Will I see 2009?"<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />"Will I make it to my birthday?"<br />"Will I get to see Trent play lacrosse this summer?"<br />"Will Jennifer, Trent and I go on another holiday?"<br /><br />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.<br /><br />***<br /><br />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!<br /><br />Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog, (I promise), January 19, 2009Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-91454829945753842772008-10-24T12:27:00.007-04:002008-10-24T13:33:53.539-04:00More Stories from the PastIt's always nice to hear from my friends.<br /><br />Many of you have emailed, spoken or passed along word that you think I should write go ahead and write a book. Not just for public consumption but also one for prosperity in which Trent, and perhaps Trent's children can someday read and gather insight into who and where their grandfather BARRY LAROCK was and what he accomplished. Boy, is that ever a deep thought... Trent as a father and me as a grandfather... WOW!<br /><br />But honestly, your words and inspiration hold true. In fact, everyone should put together their memoirs for their children and future grandchildren, why not? That's the way our ancestors did it. They kept what is called a journal in which they wrote family recipes, stories and reenactments of the history in their family lineage. We can learn a great amount about our past families from old photographs, old verbal accounts but nothing tells a historical tale better than the written word.<br /><br />So, I did it. I went to Chapters and purchased a journal. I haven't started yet, but I'm going to write thoughts, past stories and my personal opinions on events so to keep and give to my family for their enjoyment and for my historical significance on earth from start to finish.<br /><br />For now, however, I want to pass along another event in my life to those reading this blog that almost ended my life at age 14. It wasn't a surgery, a battle against cancer or even a first date gone bad. No it was none of those but rather a trip to Florida with my parents and my cousin Kent Ferguson. As the youngest of four children and a six year difference to my next eldest brother Blair, a majority of my life was spent as really an only child.<br /><br />So with a trip to Florida planned and of course at the age of rebellion, I asked if cousin Kent could join us on the trip that year. Being the kind parents they are, Pat and Lorraine took on the responsibility of parenting Kent and I for the two-week adventure. En route to Orlando, we travelled down the Gulf coast and one day found a small little beach along the side of the road.<br /><br />Out of the car faster than a greyhound after a rabbit, Kent and I made our way onto the beach and into the ocean for a dip. I am not a very good swimmer and I tend to be overly cautious when entering strange water so I vowed not to go in too deep and never over my head.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Pat and Lorraine set up residence on the beach to relax in the sun and allow Kent and I to splash against the waves under the warm Florida sun. Life couldn't get much better.<br /><br />As the time passed, however, Kent and I started to move in parallel line with the beach but further and further away from an ever-watching eye of Lorraine. She waited, and waited and of course couldn't control herself when she had seen enough and bellowed, like any good mother would, for the two of us to come closer.<br /><br />The problem was, and of course we did not realize until later when those locals on the beach explained, that the rushing waves hid an small inlet pool of water that was well over my head. It wasn't massive but large enough to swallow small Barry.<br /><br />When Lorraine called, Kent and I immediately listened and started to walk in a diagonal fashion towards Pat and Lorraine in order to get there a little sooner than later. Suddenly, my feet went out from under me. My breath was taken away by the rush of water and waves crashing against the back of my head. Kent, who was a good swimmer and without a heart condition, laughed as the waves hit and he began to easily swim to shore.<br /><br />I, on the other hand, struggled. I tried to swim but couldn't move. My feet were kicking and my arms swinging but I was constantly being hit by waves forcing my head and arms under the water. I was drowning. I was taking in big breaths of air whenever I could but I wasn't moving and I certainly couldn't feel the earth beneath me. I can still remember to this day the thought I had after Kent tried to grab my arm and I saw it slip away. I knew I was drowning. Could this be the end of my life, I thought. I was just about to let go and allow my body to sink and take in as much water as I could when finally a total stranger reached for my arm and pulled me up and onto a bright yellow inflatable water bed raft. He quitely told me to me hold on and breath deeply, everything was going to be OK. <div></div><br />Afterwards as I laid on the beach with my scared chest and lungs gasping for air, I looked over a saw my Mom in tears and Dad holding her closely. I remember thanking God that day for the stranger, the yellow raft, and for not taking me. I knew then that it obviously wasn't time for me to die.<br /><br />What I haven't told you yet was that in early May of that same year I had a what the doctors called was a complete correction of my heart condition, Tetralogy of Fallot. There was no way, as I look back, that a little water and a inlet lake was going to take me when I had just survived open heart surgery. There is a reason, however, why I believe that I was dealt that very close call. It was because I was put on this earth to do much more. I was given a second chance that day to live longer, breath more and to experience things in life that will define my existence. Whether it be though my work, my sports or though the most important thing in life... my family.<br /><br />Whenever I see Kent these days I always think of that story. I have never mentioned it to him but I always am reminded of it. And I what I remember the most is just how lucky I am to have had another opportunity to live, love and enjoy life a little longer. And that's exactly what I am doing everyday!<br /><br />***<br /><br />In two weeks I will be away on a holiday with my brother, Blaine.<br /><br />Blaine and I are ten years apart but in spite of the age difference we are also a lot alike. We are the adventurous type. Beth and Blair, my other siblings, are more home bodies than Blaine and I. Hockey friends of Blair and Blaine like to refer to the three of us as the 'Let's Go' brothers because we are always saying... "Let's go"... leading the way into whatever is next on the agenda.<br />Blaine, his friend Jim and I are going south to relax, beach it and chill out as Trent likes to call it. Blaine told me, "this is your holiday Barry, I'm just going to be your bodyguard. We're there to do what you want to do." Blaine is funny. If you knew him, you'd know that when we step off the plane, he will have the agenda planned for the entire week and Jim nor I will get a word in edgewise. I'm OK with that. I love the fact that Blaine decided to go away with me on a trip using a week's holidays to spend it with me. I know we're going to have a great time.<br /><br />And I know I'm going to be extra, extra careful around the water!<br /><br />Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... November 11, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-34872815019746162562008-10-14T11:01:00.006-04:002008-10-14T16:35:36.383-04:00An Interesting LifeSomeone once told me... "To be honest, would your life really be interesting enough?"<br /><br />The comment was in reference to an idea I had several years ago to write a book on my heart condition so others who have the same condition could recognize they are not alone and secondly to highlight the many medical advancements over the past 40 years that have kept me and thousands of others alive.<br /><br />Not many of you know, but prior to the 1960s, children born with heart defects had little chance of survival. Those born with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">congenital</span> defects in the 1960s are true pioneers in heart surgery and very, very lucky to be alive, thanks to doctors such as mine, Dr. William <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Thorton</span> Mustard, a worldwide pioneer in open-heart surgery.<br /><br />The comment, by the way, came from a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">administrative</span> lead with the Adult <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Congenital</span> Heart Clinic at Toronto General Hospital who with that statement basically shattered my dream of passing along the message to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">congenital</span> heart conditions patients about the life I chose to lead. Many of them may still wallow in self pity and have led sheltered and extremely fragile lives. I was never like that. I never asked for pity but rather all I ever wanted and often did was to be normal and do exactly what others could do.<br /><br />When in a challenge like the one before me now, perhaps I should rethink my idea. Hell, I've survived 5 open heart surgeries, one bout of cancer in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">parotid</span> gland and I'm currently battling the return of the big 'C' in both my lungs. For the past two years now, and from what I've been through, I could have said 'fuck it', and laid down and died. But, again, I've never been like that. I've always put up a fight. I have never really considered myself any different than anyone else. I set goals in life, I achieved them and I have lived what I am very proud of, and that is what I would call a '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Larock</span> and Roll' lifestyle.<br /><br />I say <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Larock</span> and Roll because, of course, my last name is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Larock</span> and I've always had a "This is the Way I Roll' attitude about life. I was never a follower and always picked my friends. 'Friends' that to this day I have stayed in touch. 'Friends' that have come over to help us with random acts of kindness, and 'Friends' who would be there if I needed them for anything.<br /><br />My mother, who was completely overprotective, I now realize, also did a wonderful job with my growth into adolescence and eventually adulthood because no matter what new adventures I wanted to do she never really said no but tried to persuade me to find an better, safer alternative. I tried to simply roll with the flow and made decisions based on what was best for my life and my body, respectively. Sometimes the choices I made for my life were not so good for my body, it would appear now.. but then I wouldn't be the person I am today if I stayed sheltered and protected.<br /><br />Now I know that writing a book is difficult and I profess that perhaps it might not ever come to fruition. But over the next few weeks, I'm going to write here on my blog some of my life's stories, including regrets and accomplishments. I would like you the reader to be the judge as to warrant my future endeavour. Should I or should I not pursue my autobiography?<br /><br />I want you to be honest as well. I don't want any pity cast upon me because of my current situation.<br /><br />And so as a taste of one life experience I found very interesting, I want to recount my life crossing with Mr. Harold Ballard, the former owner of the Toronto Maple Leafs.<br /><br />You see, Mr. Ballard was considered a mean tyrant who everyone hated because he didn't spend that much on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">beloved</span> Maple Leafs. But there is another side to Mr. Ballard. At times, Mr. Ballard would take a moment to be thankful for his life and success and share it with others. In 1974, when I was recovering from surgery at Toronto's Sick Children Hospital a crisp new $5.00 bill was beside my bed when I awoke after an afternoon nap. My mother wondered where the money came from as all six of us in the hospital's ward room discovered crisp new $5.00 bills. The hospital confirmed that it might have been Mr. Ballard as he would often come in and randomly give young patients money. A sort of pick me up for those less fortunate. Years later after reading Pal Hal by Dick <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Beddoes</span> and working with at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Peterborough</span> Memorial Centre with Mr. Peter <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Bourgeois</span>, a personal driver of Mr. Ballard in the 1970s did I realize and honestly believe that I was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">recipient</span> of a Mr. Ballard $5.00 bill.<br /><br /><p>Sick Kids Hospital has always had sports figures come to spread hope in the eyes of young patients. Mr. Ballard, however, did it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">unanimously</span> because of course he had a reputation to upkeep. Nobody would want to recognize that a man so evil could have a good side too. </p><p>***</p>I want to touch on the loss of a friend recently. The City of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Peterborough</span> lost a good employee and a great man recently in the passing of solicitor John Hart. John passed away in his sleep while at a conference in Ottawa. When he left home before the conference he had no idea he would never return. Is that the way we should all go. Quietly in our sleep? My sister said that the way she wants to go.<br /><br />But I beg to differ. I like my situation currently in that I can assess, prepare and take part in my potentially, a long-time from now soul's departure. I feel so sorry for John's family. He did not have a chance to say goodbye. He didn't suffer either. The only leason from his loss is that we should not take life for granted. Go and hug someone close today because they may not be here tomorrow. There is no garantee that I will be around next year. And there is certainly no garantee you will be either. My condolences to John's family and our family at City Hall for enduring such a sudden death. John Hart was a good man and I was proud to call him a friend of mine.<br /><br />***<br /><br />My cousin Grant <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Holohan</span> has dedicated his 2009 Ride To Conquer Cancer to me. Grant is my wife's first cousin. I don't get to see much of Grant and his wife Liz because they live in Toronto but I am so happy and honoured that he has thought of me for his ride. I am also thankful that they, as well as Grant's brother Greg, have decided to do something about a cure for Cancer. If you wish to check out his personal website, please feel free to do so through the link on the right side of my page under 'MY BLOG LIST'. Thank you again Grant and Liz. Good Luck, earn lots of money and train hard!<br /><br />Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... October 21, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-66686039270336001772008-09-16T09:08:00.007-04:002008-09-16T13:10:56.181-04:00The Road to New ChemotheraphyPills! As we all get older most of us will start to take them on a regular basis. But for now, most of us take them for a headache, backache, and perhaps constipation and or the dreaded <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">diarrhea</span>. YUCK!<br /><br />I was at my parents the other day and remember when I was the only one taking pills for my heart as a teenager. Now my parents kitchen table is chocked full of them. Heart pills, high blood pressure, diabetes, pain killers, hell they were spread all over the place. My Mom told me that she takes 19 pills a day now while my Dad is close behind at 11. Both of my parents are 77 years of age.<br /><br />When I had my last heart surgery in the year 2000 to replace an overused valve, I had some other things corrected as well and was thankfully taken off the blood thinning pill, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">coumadin</span>. For the first time since I was a teenager I was free of a daily pill. That lasted 8 years.<br /><br />Beginning this past July, I was put back on pills recently for this dreaded cancer. This time, it's a potential life extending chemotherapy treatment in a pill form called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Capecitabine</span>. Disappointed with the thought of choking down another pill or two per day I was happy, however, to be receiving something that would hopefully take the cancer in my lungs away. Or if anything, slow the bastard of a disease down.<br /><br />When I received the first prescription of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Capecitabine</span> I was surprised to learn that it wasn't just one or two pills per day but a total of eight. Four in the morning and four at night. I was informed I had to take them 12 hours apart and they must be taken within 30-minutes after I have eaten. This is the difficult part. You see, we usually eat at around 6:00 pm to 7:00 pm at night. This means that I would have to get up at 6:00 or 7:00 in the am to eat breakfast and then force 4 pills down my throat. There's no way my body could do it. I need my sleep at 6:00 am. Don't you?<br /><br />In a compromise, I now take my pills between 10:00 and 11:00 am so therefore I can enjoy a 12 hour break just in time for a bedtime snack in the PM in order to take my pills. Confused? Don't worry; the bottom line is that taking pills are a pain in the ass but it's something I have to do.<br /><br />The only good thing about these pills is that it appears that the cancer is slowing, according to the results of my last CT-Scan. That's great news. I suppose the other good news is that I have not lost any of my strawberry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blonde</span> locks, nor am I visiting the infamous <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">porcelain</span> bowl <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">vomiting</span>. I have one side effect which is a hand and foot disorder where my fingers and feet tingle, swell and get red and sore. They can also blister which is very bad because it opens you to infection. Thankfully, I have just endued the tingling, swelling and soreness, no blisters yet. The other side effect, very common to all forms of chemo, is fatigue. This is a daily <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">occurrence</span> and I have simply learned to live with it.<br /><br />So this is where we are now. I am currently on week 2 of my fourth round of pill chemo. After two weeks of taking 4 pills, every 12 hours, I then go on a one week break where I recoup my system, blood count and energy. I then go to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">PMH</span> (Princess Margaret Hospital) for blood work and a meeting with my doctor to ensure the side effects are not to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">strenuous</span> on the body. If blood work is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">OK</span>, then I return home to do it all over again. Pills, pills and more pills. Don't worry, you never get used to it.<br /><br />Just ask my parents.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing.... Next Blog.... September 23, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-45619558134507151352008-09-09T16:16:00.004-04:002008-09-10T14:04:31.676-04:00Still Kickin' - September 9, 2008Hi.. I hope you remember me. I'm Barry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Larock</span> and I'm still alive and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">kickin</span>'!<br /><br />I know <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">a lot</span> of people have been wondering and asking about my blog and why I stopped so suddenly on June 23, 2008. The reason was because I had a change in medication and a change in my living habits. That week was a difficult one for me as I was told by my doctors that the injected <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">chemotherapy</span> didn't seem to be working and they were going to try an oral form of medication to see if they could slow down or stop the tumors from growing. I accepted the challenge and took on the new medication. Then on June 28th Jennifer and Trent changed my living habits by ending school for the summer and joining me at home 24 -7 (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ahhhhhhhhhhh</span>!) Just kidding.<br /><br />The summer just blew by and here we are today with the recent addition of my blog.<br /><br />Oh... What did we do this summer you ask? Well, I hate to brag but it was probably one of the best summers of my life. Many of you know how I dislike being away from work because I honestly do love my work, but this summer and this disease gave me an opportunity that most people could choose to do but fail to do in their entire lifetime. And that was to take the summer off with my family.<br /><br />We went camping! We went on a cruise to the Eastern <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Caribbean</span>! We stayed up late watching movies! We swam in our pool! We visited friends on Sunday evenings! And we slept in till 10:00 am or later. It was awesome and well deserved for all of us. There is nothing quite like being free to do what you want when you want with your family.<br /><br />So now September comes and the family goes back to school. Jennifer back teaching and Trent back to being a student. Barry is relegated to kitchen chores, a bucket list of fall household chores and my newest commitment, getting back into shape. This is all because of some positive news I have received in the last couple of days.<br /><br />This past weekend in Toronto I visited the MRI machine on Friday and then the CT-Scan machine on Saturday before going Monday (yesterday) for the results. Dr. Sui informed me, as she always does in such an honest and pleasant manner, that the results showed that there is still some progression of the disease but not as much as the last time I had an MRI and CT-Scan three months ago. So it appears the cancer is slowing down. Could this be due to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">chemotherapy</span> in June, July and August? Or is it because of the healthier lifestyle I have chosen? Or further still is it because my body is doing all that it can to fight this son of a bitch disease?<br /><br />That's the puzzling part of cancer and its phases as not even the doctors know why, what or how anything works on it because it is different in every person. My doctor can't be sure its the chemo but she is confident enough to refill my perscription for another round against this monster in the pervervable ring. I am ready for the challenge. Eye of the Tiger Barry... Eye of the Tiger!<br /><br />Another lesson I learned this summer about myself and facing this disease is that you have to maintain a positive attitude and you have to keep looking forward to the next event in your life. For me the cruise was a big family event that has since come and gone. Then it was Trent's lacrosse and hopes of making it to the provincials, which never happened. And now, I look forward to a holiday away with my brother Blaine in November. All this involves a positive attitude on living and keeping active by doing such mundane tasks as kitchen chores, cleaning the hot tub, closing the pool and even power washing the garbage receptacles.<br /><br />I must admit, now that I am nearing the end of this blog edition, that it was very hard and a long time coming to sit down and write it. Once you are away from something for awhile it is hard to get back into it and pour your heart out on such a personal issue. But, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">because</span> of your enquires and your continued support for my well being I have finally done it and I feel very gracious to all of you for doing so. You have provided me with yet a another chore to look forward too for the coming weeks ahead.<br /><br />Thank you for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog.... the road to new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">chemotherapy</span>... September 15, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-37476707704483779942008-06-23T09:07:00.000-04:002008-06-23T10:02:31.790-04:00Random Acts Of Kindness .... June 23, 2008When you're ill and people just show up out of the blue to help or simply drop off something for you to enjoy, it's called a random act of kindness. And believe me when I say it's so greatly appreciated.<br /><br />On June 14, Trent and I went to the Blue Jays game in Toronto. Trent had never been to the Rogers Centre and so my brother Blaine, his daughter Melanie and son Roman met us in Toronto for an afternoon of baseball and dinner. It was a great day for Trent and I to spend together with his cousins and uncle of which we don't get to see very often. I also enjoyed the day because it was a day I didn't have to think about my illness, except of course for the beer at the game that I had to pass up when Blaine offered to purchase. <br /><br />So while Trent and I were off enjoying an open Rogers Centre and a Chicago Cub victory, Jennifer was at home alone when she received a telephone call from friends of ours who just happened to enquire as to whether or not I had opened the pool for the season. When Jennifer responded that I had not, the friend suddenly responded to Jennifer's surprise that he'd be right over to help. And before Jennifer could say anything else, the friend was off the phone and on his way. But not only did he arrive alone with his wife but another couple joined them as well. And while the two couples worked around my house cutting grass and opening the pool Jennifer told me she was almost in tears because of this incredible random act of kindness. For these two couples to take a few hours of their precious Saturday after working all week to come and help us out with cutting the grass and opening the pool, it's was just too good to be true. A greatly appreciated act of kindness on their part.<br /><br />When Trent and I arrived home later that evening after the ball game and a delicious dinner at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yonge</span> Street Koren Grill, I noticed that the grass had been cut. Jennifer's certainly not one to cut the grass so I knew something was up. Then as I entered the house I heard a strange sound coming from the open dining room patio door which sounded much like a motor running. Sure enough the pool was crystal clear and the pump in operation. I asked Jennifer, what went on here today and she told me.<br /><br />She also held up a plate of chocolate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">macaroons</span> of which a former summer student employee of mind had also dropped for me to enjoy. Jennifer and I looked at each other and I nearly cried. (I did actually, but I don't want to say that publicly).<br /><br />Random acts of kindness are probably the greatest gift of all. I've always thought of myself as a kind person but what these and many others have done for me over the course of my illness now and in 2006 are far beyond what I have ever done to support another person. This type of giving with no expectation of return gives me a better understanding of what kindness really is all about. When I phoned to thank the two couples on Sunday morning personally, each couple said that after they left our house they both felt <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">incredibly</span> thankful to be able help as they did and the whole event made them feel very good inside.<br /><br />I should also mention that since I've been off work I have received numerous cards from fellow employees, work related associations, friends, the local <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">MPP</span>, and others who are all helping me to stay positive during my treatments. Two of my very best high school friends came over one day and in another random act of kindness helped me to clean out my garage. And I have also received flowers, soup, movies and of course rides to Toronto for my treatments from friends and family who are all playing a vital role in my battle. I suppose, I am the general of this army and all of these random acts of kindness shall serve as my warriors until victory over this disease is complete. Heck, I'm starting to sound like William Wallace.<br /><br />The point is that I guess it's a good time to thank all of you who have supported me in this fight thus far. To anyone who has felt the burden of cancer you know that when someone shows a random act of kindness, it makes you feel stronger, safer and better. Please keep helping me fight.<br /><br /><br />***<br /><br />Appointment number 6 in Toronto was a typical day of blood work, lunch at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Druxy's</span> and then the dreaded chemo injection in the arm. The one thing that was very different on this day is the smell of the hospital. I getting sick of it. And I mean literally. I felt <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nauseated</span> when I stepped into the front foyer of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">PMH</span> this time and the stench of it was in my throat until we left.<br /><br />Now I've been in many hospitals, eaten the food like no tomorrow and naturally enjoyed the attention of some of the nurses but the thought of going back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">PMH</span> next week is already getting to me. Does anyone have any ideas of how not to think of the smell of the hospital so I won't feel like throwing up. A week off will certainly help but if you have any idea, please let me know.<br /><br />My nephew Nathan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Latchford</span> drove from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Beachburg</span>, Ontario (just west of Pembroke, Ontario) on Tuesday, June 17<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">th</span> to take me to Toronto. Nathan is a very good lad who grew up in the city but always worked and played on the Hutchinson farm in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Otonabee</span>. And so, after years of 4-H cattle shows, Nathan found himself a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">fiancee</span>, Jackie, and so has moved away to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Beachburg</span>, Ontario to work in the in-law family business as well as continue with his love for cattle on the family farm. His life is different now then when he lived in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Peterborough</span>, he told me. "It's much slower up there Uncle Barry and I love it," he said.<br /><br />I'm happy that Nathan is happy. It's important to be happy in life and I wish him and Jackie all the best in the world. He also asked me to share emcee duties at his wedding next June 2009. I told him that without question I would be there!<br /><br />Nathan didn't know it at the time and quite frankly neither did I but at that moment Nathan officially joined my army. You see he gave me a reason to keep fighting and living until I can participate in his and Jackie's wonderful event. I can't wait to share in those duties. <br /> <br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog - The Longest Day... June 30, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-9908905139176093112008-06-13T13:57:00.000-04:002008-06-13T15:05:20.625-04:005th Day of Chemo - June 10, 2008Father's Day has a whole new meaning this year.<br /><br />In the past, the day was simply another event during the calendar year in which I got to see my father. As we get older, we begin to realize slowly just how fortunate we are to have our parents still around. And I'm especially lucky because my mom and dad still live close by and we do see them rather frequently. But this year, it's all going to be different.<br /><br />I know my mom is having a tough time with my current condition. She's always been there for me and has looked after me forever. Jennifer still gets angry at times when my mother sticks up for me in her very sweet way of trying to keep me from harm. It's a Moms right to care and love for her child the way my mom does with me. She certainly doesn't want any harm to come to me and I know she's angry that all this is happening to her baby boy. I have to be strong so she can be strong too.<br /><br />And I have to be strong for my father too. Back when everything was good (And I like to refer to that period as prior to 2006), my father would simply go with the flow. He would come to the house, do the odd thing to help out, serve his time at the family gathering, but honestly he was a lot like me and he would simply by his time until the end of the event, when he would say, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Come'on</span> Lorraine, it's time to go home".<br /><br />But not anymore. I can sense that my Dad aches when he see me these days. I know that he loves me and that he feels terrible for what I am going through. He's sorry, he wants to help but he knows there's not much he can do. I feel for him, especially now that I am a father, and in the same way, I too feel sorry for Trent and his pain with this entire misadventure. It's simply not fair .<br /><br />The one thing my father never did as I grew up was too allow me to feel sorry for myself. He told me too many times "just do what you could do and have fun doing it". And that was always good enough for him. He wanted me to play sports and so I did, to the best of my ability. And it was a good solid respectable way of life for me. So good that it pushed me in the career I am in today and without my father's respect and admiration I certainly would not have 3 Mann Cup rings to my credit nor the experience of coaching professional lacrosse for the past four seasons.<br /><br />I was also lucky enough to get his great personality. Everybody loves my Dad. He's funny, quirky, easy to talk too, a great listener and the best damn thing about him is that he's out there in the community for the kids, not himself. And if you're one of my top thousand friends you'll see similar qualities in me. Confidence included.<br /><br />So today, Friday, after a long week of dragging my ass after chemo injection number 5, I went out today and bought my father a Father's Day gift. Honestly, it's probably the first that I have personally purchased for him ever. I know that sounds disgusting but that's the way it has been for the past 43 years. Like I said things now are different. I feel good about the gift. I feel good about inviting my parents and my brother and my sister to my house on Sunday for an afternoon Father's Day Lunch. I'm not going to say this might be the last Father's Day but I will say that it will be a memorable and emotional one.<br /><br />And I'm going to hug and kiss my father on Sunday like never before. Because I know what he's feeling inside. And I want him to know that I do love him.<br /><br />***<br /><br />My sister Beth took me to Toronto this past Tuesday for my 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> Chemo injection. The day went rather smooth until the end when she announced that she didn't want me to write about her in my blog. I laughed and said, "the blog is simply a way to express my feelings Beth. I would never mean to offend anyone."<br /><br />Beth has had a tough week with some extensive internal water damage at her house due to a crack in their bathroom toilet. So I suppose I'll decline from writing about her. If I were so inclined however, I was simply going to write about how nice it was to talk to her one-on-one for that day without family, parents and others around. You see, we rarely get to visit like that without others. My sister is a smart, beautiful woman who loves me as much as my mother and father do. She's been beside me at Sick Kids, Toronto General and now Princess Margaret through thick and thin. She's kind, generous and would do anything for me and my family. If there's one thing about these trips to Toronto is that there is always a silver lining. Being with a cherished family member for those eight hours is time well spent..... thank you.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog - The 6th Chemo Visit.... June 18, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-10123026415703250592008-05-29T14:06:00.000-04:002008-06-13T13:57:55.101-04:004th Day of Chemo - May 27, 2008This has been a hard week for me because the Chemo, believe or not, is beginning to take its toll.<br /><br />I am weaker physically, my focus and concentration is a bit off and I've been terribly edgy. I must admit though that I have been extremely lucky, of course, not to feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nauseated</span> nor have I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">vomited</span> but there are other things that are beginning to creep into my being that I'm not comfortable with.<br /><br />First, I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">agitated</span> Monday, the day before treatment this week because I had planned for a relatively quite day of rest and movies when both the telephone and door bell wouldn't stop ringing. Friends and family members, who are all generally concerned with my health, called or simply dropped by to say hello and then naturally ask that question I'm beginning to detest... "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">soooo</span>... how are you feeling today?"<br /><br />Who in there right mind would say... "terrible, I'm weak, my head is aching and I'm generally in a bitchy mood, but thanks for asking".<br /><br />No, instead, with a smile on my face and sense of 'I can do this' I lead with a quick "not bad" followed by a "I'm a little weak but I'll get by." The problem with being under the weather is that nobody wants to be under the weather. We all want the normal routine to continue. We all want for our lives to go on. When we are sick for just a few days, say with the flu, we simply grin and bear it and we all know that the flu will eventually go away.<br /><br />But when you get into a situation like the one I am currently in you're not sure, or pretty not so sure, that it is going to go away. I've finally realized that I'm going to be sick with this Chemo feeling for another number of weeks. And of course all this starts to play on your mind.<br /><br />As for the friends and family, I'm not saying to stay away or stop calling at all, but instead thank you for thinking and caring about me. As I stated I don't like the way my mind is playing games on my general being. This is not about you. It's about me. I love visitors. I hate having cancer.<br /><br />I'm also not comfortable with not being there for Trent. I had to miss being on the bench for his first box lacrosse game of the year in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Clarington</span> Tuesday. I was simply too tired after my treatment earlier that day to contribute as the teams trainer so I told Trent before the game that I wouldn't be on the bench. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes and said "it's OK Dad" but still he seemed a little disappointed. It's that feeling which hurts more than the six I.V. needle attempts in the arm I had early in treatments. It's that feeling that makes me detest the cancer even more.<br /><br />And finally, I not comfortable with being <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">unmotivated</span>. We have a treadmill in the basement. I should be on it every second day getting some exercise to strengthen my immune system and stay in shape. But I'm not. I have a bicycle in the garage. I haven't rode it once in three weeks. Lance <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Armstrong</span> rode his bike everyday when he had cancer and went through chemo. I read his book. What the hell is wrong with me? Get motivated. I don't know what it is but the chemo is fogging my mind a bit when it comes to what can I do. There is so much to do around the house. I want to get the pool open for the season. There is laundry, dishes, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">re-coating</span> the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">lane way</span>, but I simply don't have the energy. This whole thing sucks.<br /><br />I've been off work for five weeks now and you know what? I miss it. Believe it or not but I miss my fellow employees, my sport contacts and my routine. I went into work yesterday to say hi to those in the office. It was a short visit but it was a tough visit just the same. All of these 'can't dos' start to build up and it's tough on the mind. I suppose it's just another battle that has to be won in the fight against cancer for all of us with the disease.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Tuesday, my friend Bill Duff took me to Toronto for my 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span> day of treatment. Bill is a fantastic guy who would do anything for me if I asked. In fact, he's much like all my friends. It's great to have friends like Bill who offer to drive you to Chemo. It's certainly not a fun day for anyone, especially the driver, who has to come in a watch the faces of those sick at Princess Margaret.<br /><br /><br /><p>The day went smooth with only two people to wait for in front of me to give blood. We then had a light snack before heading up to wait for approximately an hour before I was called in to unit 4 for treatment. My nurse was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Anda</span>, from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Romania</span>, was the same person who finally hit the mark after six I.V. attempts during my second chemo treatment. She said she didn't remember that day but I certainly did. I knew <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Anda</span> would hit the mark first try and she did. </p><p>After the regular hour of treatment was over Bill and I were on our way home again. Another day of worry, fear and a constant reminder of my brutal disease was over. All I had to look forward too was the yucky feeling of being sleepy, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">agitated</span> and grumpy for the next two weeks. All of which will subside before my next treatment on June 10. I'm officially done my second cycle and so I don't have to return to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">PMH</span> until June 10 so my body can <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">re-cooperate</span> reproducing good cells destroyed by the chemo and getting rid of the bad cancer cells though human waste. </p><p>I know... I might have crossed the line with that one but with every poop I have to believe the cancer is getting exactly what it deserves. A flush right down the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">toilet</span>. </p><p>Thanks for reading and sharing...</p><p>Next Blog - A New Cycle... June 10, 2008<br /><br /></p>Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-81787917200382669912008-05-21T12:05:00.000-04:002008-05-21T13:24:32.933-04:003rd Day of Chemo - May 20, 2008This is my first blog following my week off from Chemo. Welcome back.. and yes, I'm still here.<br /><br />You see my treatment is set in cycles whereas as I go one Tuesday, then the next and then I am off for a week to allow the body to recover from all the chemo that's left in my body. What I mean by recover is that the chemo destroys both bad cells (cancer) and good cells (white and red blood cells) so your body must have time to recoup those good cells (raise the white and red blood cells) before the next cycle of treatments.<br /><br />Besides, I really didn't feel like writing last week. I took a vacation you might say. I didn't read my book by Eckert Tolle but instead played video games, watched movies and even took up cooking for Trent and Jennifer because I know how rough it is for her coming home from work and preparing supper. From work routine to home routine, we all go through it. But for now, we're in a different situation so I am taking up some of that responsibility (when I'm up for it) and it feels good being able to contribute.<br /><br />So here we are.. cycle 2 or chemo treatment 3. Yesterday, my brother Blair showed up at 8:30 am for the ride to T.O. and Princess Margaret Hospital. Blair, my second brother and the one closest in age to me by 6 years, is a teacher and lives in Lakefield with his wife Jane and they have two beautiful daughters, Renee and Abby. Abby's going to have a baby soon and so I'll be a great uncle for the third time. But of course, Renee and Abby already know that I am their GREATEST Uncle.<br /><br />Upon arrival at the PMH, I received my plastic card that read number 66 for blood giving only to look and find they were currently serving number 29 on the large neon sign. "It doesn't take that long to call your number" I said to Blair. But it was long enough for me to start worrying, because my appointment with the doctor (Dr. Sui) was for 11:30 am and still not given blood at 10:55 am. I gave blood around 11:05 am and made it to the appointment office to check in. But, of course, I had to wait until 12:10 pm to actually see the Doctor as the blood count had to get from the lab to my doctor first to ensure the levels were good for today's treatment. A little tip for non-frequent hospital goers... The first thing about hospitals is 'BE PREPARED TO WAIT.' I learned that a long time ago.<br /><br />While waiting in the doctor's office I sat across from a gentlemen who I did not know. Or did I? He had an obvious scar in the same general location as I do on his neck and near his ear. He was about my age and waiting to see the same doctor. And I noticed his wife, spouse or girlfriend who looked very similar to Jennifer, also in this situation, nervous and in an obvious state of despair. <br /><br />But it was not until I looked back at the man and deep into his eyes that I realized I was looking at myself. I could sense the nervousness that comes with every appointment. I could see in his eyes that he was sick and tired of this disease. And I could feel from his body image that it was crying out to say help me, help me to get better.<br /><br />No it was me alright and I wanted to stand up and walk over and say, "I know exactly what you are going through". But I didn't... and why? I don't know. Today, I'm kicking myself in the ass because I didn't have the balls to stand up and say hello. I guess we are all so concerned with our own lives that we forget others who are crying out for help. Take the situation in China or Myanmar for example. Two distinct events with enormous tragic loss of lives in the past two weeks. For me, I feel very sorry for those families who have lost loved one so quickly without a chance to say goodbye. The dead, on the hand, didn't know it was coming and for the most part their lives were taken so quickly. Taken to school one morning and never to be seen again, buried beneath the rubble. In Myanmar, people were whisked away while standing next to a loved one, a body ripped out of the hand of another and taken away. This is incomprehensible to me.<br /><br />I should have stood up and walked over the man. For we are the lucky ones when you compare to those events. We get to have our family close for now. We get to share in whatever time is left with our familes and friends. Hell, we could even plan to throw a whale of a goodbye party if we wanted too. The point is that you have to be thankful for what you have today not what you want tomorrow.<br /><br />And furthermore, we certainly should have HOPE because we we are at the best hospital in Ontario and have faith that these doctors know what they are doing and they are going to stop, slow down or control what growing in our bodies. So I should have stood up and walked over the man and said...<br /><br />"Do you know just how lucky we are?"<br /><br />Maybe next week I'll take a stroll by the doctors office to see if the same man (or another perhaps) is waiting with the same look in his eyes and give him that message. A message that has long been my philosophy on life.<br /><br />There is no future for any of us really. We can look at the past but we can't live in the past. And the future is not here yet, not even one-second of the future is here because when it is, it is the present. We have to live in the present and enjoy every moment that we are breathing and our heart is beating. Don't take for granted what you have in your life right now. Because it can be torn away in an instant.<br /><br />The rest of the day went fairly smoothly. After the doctors office, I had quick X-Ray to see if anything in the form of pneumonia was stirring in the lungs then it was off to get chemo. Don't worry, the doctor called by the time I got home and said there was no pneumonia in the lungs... whew!<br /><br />Brother Blair came in with me to the chemo room and had his eyes opened, I would have hope. This disease effects alot of people. Did you know there are 37 beds or chairs in the chemo room that is busy seven days a week for at least 8 hours per day giving people chemotheraphy to stop, slow or rid this disease. You do the math people. And it's just not seniors. There are people younger than me, the same age and then there are people in their 60s, 70s and 80s. It can effect anyone at anytime.<br /><br />First poke and the I.V. was in this time and then after one hour of chemo it was out the door and home. Quicker that my first two appointments. My brother lit up a cigarette on the way to the parking garage and I didn't say anything... again. It's sad but I guess he didn't get the message. <br /><br />So I'll stand up and say it now... BLAIR, TRY TO STOP SMOKING!<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog - Chemo Treatment #4 ... May 27, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-25734916387173828562008-05-07T10:48:00.001-04:002008-05-07T12:15:48.126-04:002nd Day of Chemo - May 6, 2008My second date with Chemo started out as the first one did, with great optimism and my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">outlook</span> focused on taking the IV with great ease.<br /><br />So as we loaded up the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">entourage</span> of Pat and Lorraine <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Larock</span> (my 77-year old parents) and my eldest sister (she hates when we say that) Beth, I was relaxed, confident and pleased that I had survived the first week without any nausea or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">vomiting. </span><br /><br />Just some weakness throughout and a couple of days in bed and on the couch resting and relaxing. I did entail some slight headaches Wednesday and Thursday but by Friday the tiredness softened and I did make it to watch my favourite lacrosse goalie stop a lot of shots in a cruel 9-4 loss in women's lacrosse at the Kinsmen Civic Centre. The goalie by the way is my gorgeous wife Jennifer who plays much like I did as a young star... with great passion and a love for being part of a team.<br /><br />Back to HWY 401, things were going great on the 1.5 hour <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">commute</span> into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">PMH on this sunny Tuesday morning</span>. However, when we arrived at 10:40 am things quickly turned from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">optimistic</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pessimistic</span> when I arrived in line for my weekly blood work. My number in line was 29 while the large neon-lit number sign on the wall said they were currently serving number 86. That meant 43 people had to go in before me and as I looked around, believe me when I say, it looked like a whole lot more.<br /><br />Slowly and quite efficiently, I might add, the numbers turned on the neon sign and people went through leading up to my call as number 29. When I entered the room my nurse directed me to cubicle 14 where I started to roll up my sleeve for the extraction of blood. The chemotherapy lab requires all patients to give blood before they give your specific chemotherapy to ensure your blood and body is strong enough to take the dosage. Chemo, by the way, is very heavy duty shit. It kills everything (all bad cells and sometimes good cells, white and red blood cells) in its way to the cancer and so giving blood is very important to the chemo process.<br /><br />Another step in the process is for the nurse to ensure you are the right person who gave her #29. So she asks your a couple of questions like your name, age, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">birth date</span>. This particular nurse wasn't smiling and seeing that I was in a proactive mood I decided to try and make her smile. "What is your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">birth date</span> sir?" she asked. "March 26, 1965, now being fair what's yours?" I replied with a grin. Once a small smile started I knew I had her. She said, "Oh, its in August," When I quickly added, "And that would be in the late 1970's I presume?." Right then I knew my job was done. The smile swept across her face from ear to ear and I honestly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">believed</span> I made the rest of her day. I know that because she said "Oh, and thank you for the compliment," when I was preparing to leave.<br /><br />Next on the agenda was, of course, another short break before Chemo at 12:00 noon. We stopped at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Druxy's</span> for a drink and then proceeded to wait for the next 1.5 hours in the chemo waiting room. I played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">PSP</span> while Beth and Mom talked and Pat, while he had his midday <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">siesta</span>, complete with a gentle snore.<br /><br />After the wait, it was finally time to tackle the Chemo room, an area set up with a few beds and few chairs for people to openly watch you get poked, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">IV'd</span> and then we all site facing each other to watch as the Chemo enters your body. It's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">OK</span> though because you know what? We're all in it together. Each one of us in that room faces the same fears, the same challenges and each of us have the same hope. And that is that this public display of nurses poking, I.Vs running and chemo flowing is all a plan to work and each of us are going to get rid of the cancer.<br /><br />The next part of this blog may seem frightening especially if you don't like needles. But I don't have a choice. I had to endure the pain and frustration of being poked on both arms and in the wrist 7 times before the nurses could find a good I.V line or back-flow as they called it. Seven times is a lot but when you've been through what I have, seven is three less than 10. It's all in the way you think of it.<br /><br />When it did finally arrive and the back flow was fine, my frustration finally subsided. Don't get me wrong I did give the nurses a small piece of my mind at being poked seven times but I'm not that crazy to know that it is a difficult job when the veins will simply not cooperate. And remember what I said before about Chemo being heavy shit. If it's not in the blood stream and leaking though a vein into the muscle, then there's a whole other ball of wax to contend with.<br /><br />All in all the day went pretty smoothly. I received my 2<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">nd</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">treatment</span> and the good thing is that I now have until May 20 before I return again for number 3. In the meantime, I have an appointment tomorrow (May 8) back at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">PMH</span> for an MRI on my face region where I have been having some discomfort and they want to check it out to make sure the cancer has not returned to that original region. Then it's rest and relaxation with my family with hope that I can contend with treatment #2 and be able to watch Trent play lacrosse and try out for AA hockey this weekend.<br /><br />As for my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">entourage</span> yesterday, they are very special people to me and I want to thank them for sharing in my adventure.<br /><br />My Dad, who has always supported me in my life, continues to be the comedian when we are at the hospital. I guess his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">philosophy</span> has rubbed off on me, like many of his others, and that is too make someone smile who might not be very happy. Without smiles, the world would be a very sad place.<br /><br />And to my sister, who has always been a second mother to me because she was 12 when I was born and therefore the perfect age for helping with such a sick child. She's always been there and supported me through hospital and life and always with great love. A lot of people know my father, brothers and I throughout the community but it always been my sister and my mother responsible for keeping us all so close as a family.<br /><br />And finally to my mom, who will celebrate being my lucky mother for the 43rd time this weekend on Mothers Day. And that is certainly something to celebrate. She's been the one who is responsible for me having a level head, good job and great attitude about beating this disease, not to mention my other health problems. She's never told me but I've heard that I wasn't suppose to leave the hospital after birth. But she knew differently. She believed in me. She knew the odds were supposed to be beaten and she kindled the love that made it happen. I have always cherished every moment I am around her.<br /><br />We should all cherish every moment we have with our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">families</span> and our friends. Because life is simply way too short to not too.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog - Chemo Treatment #3 ... May 20, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-69208803011479975572008-04-30T18:07:00.000-04:002008-04-30T19:18:02.706-04:001st Day of Chemo - April 29I woke at the usual 7:00 am today, which is routine for me at the Larock house as I begin to prepare for another day of work.<br /><br />However, today I wasn't going to work. Instead it was my first day of Chemotherapy at Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto.<br /><br />Our son Trent had asked the day before if he could join his mother and I on the adventure to Toronto. I, as well as his mother, thought it would be a good experience for the 11 year-old to witness in person that his father was not going to be hurt in anyway today but rather that the medicine he would receive will be given to help slow down the cancerous disease.<br /><br />The day started out as usual with me anxious to get on the road while Trent and Jennifer took their sweet time. The trip was the usual 1.5 hours in length with, of course, two pee breaks in between. Once for Mom and the second for Dad.<br /><br />When we arrived at PMH, I knew exactly where we were going. It's a place that I have been many times before and if you've never been there, I hope you never have to go. Don't get me wrong the Hospital is a wonderful place but from the first time I stepped through the door I've been amazed at the fact that this Hospital services ONLY patients with cancer. And there isn't just a few people in the lobby. There must be thousands in and out the door everyday. Not to mention the number of patients in the rooms upstairs. It certainly is an eye opening experience to say the least. And a very sad one as well.<br /><br />Off topic - One day I read the many different types of cancers followed at the PMH. I was amazed at everything from lung, kidney, breast (which are the obvious) but then there is throat, testicle and eye cancer. Can you imagine having eye cancer? That would be horrible. But as I found out later when talking with my doctor, eye cancer is perhaps one of the lucky forms of cancer to have because you see with eye cancer, once you remove the eye... the cancer is... gone. You can always live and even drive with one eye.<br /><br />Back to chemo day 1... After you arrive at the Daycare Chemo Clinic there tends to be a lot of what 'normal' people would call waiting. For us 'not normal' people this is called hospital patience. The problem is that there are so many people with cancer and more than 100 different types of chemotherapy drugs that you simply have to wait your turn. We waited approximately an hour to see the nurse who would administer my drugs. He was a nice fellow, Mike, who looked a little like Eddie Murphy, so Trent said. Jennifer and Trent watched and listened, as Mike, read through the many side effects that can take effect following Chemo. I knew the list because I've done a little research. I'm usually good with side effects which should help in my treatments. I didn't have many with radiation and I am hoping the same with Chemo. I was a tad mesmorized by the amount of times Mike mentioned nausea and vomitting because quite honestly I really hate doing it.<br /><br />Then came time for Mike to adminster by injection I.V. the drug Prochlorperazine (pro-klor-pare-a-zeen) to help eleviate nausea or vomitting which is a main side effect of chemo. I was thankful to start with that one.<br /><br />That process took approximately 15 minutes and then came time for the actual chemo drug entitled Gemcitabine (Jem-Site-a-been) which was again injected through an I.V. (as seen in the photo). This process took approximately 30 minutes. During this period we took photos with my cell phone camera of the event and Trent and I had a free juice and cookie supplied by one of the many tremendous volunteers at the PMH. A third and final solution was administered following the Gemcitabine to flush the system and prepare me to go home for the day. I think Trent was as drained as I was by this time and so we were both happy to leave the hospital hand in hand.<br /><br />The whole procedure from arrival to out the parking lot was 2 hours. In total we left at 9:30 am and arrived home at 4:35 pm. I slept in the car on the road home because during the ride I suddenly felt like someone had hit me in the head with a hammer and I fell asleep rather quickly. I awoke just in time to turn into the laneway.<br /><br />I truly think the day was important for Trent. It demonstrated to him two very important things. First, I was not harmed in any way during the procedure which might have been a concern for him going in. Secondly, it showed Trent that I am truly sick with something and that I do need some sort of medication. You see to him, I'm normal. Up until Monday I was working and coaching lacrosse. I had just gotten home from our last NLL games on the weekend in Minnesota and Chicago and I'm not surprise my boy was wondering "how come my Dad has become so sick so fast". He now knows it's not like that. The medicine I am receiving is going to help.<br /><br />You see I had a revelation on the weekend while I was asleep in Minnesota.<br /><br />Suddenly in the night I woke up and I said to myself, self... maybe, just maybe this chemo treatment will work. If I believe in it and give it a chance then perhaps it will stop, control and maybe even destroy the cancer cells that are currently growing in my lungs. And that would definitely extend my life.<br /><br />Before that revelation I was too focused on dying rather than focused on living. All the news I have been given over the past two years has been negative. Oh... you have might cancer but its a slime chance.. but it was. Oh.. you have cancer but we'll get the rest with radiation... but they didn't and finally... Oh.. it's back and it's not curable.... well you know what? Maybe it is... I'm going to take the positive side of the road and focusing on it is from now on and so here's to hoping and praying that this funny 11-letter word Gemcitabine (Jem-Site-a-been) is going to work. Will you hope and pray with me?<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog - Chemo treatment #2 .... May 6, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8876605478421464709.post-45532606290542802362008-04-30T14:37:00.000-04:002008-04-30T15:59:37.473-04:00History - Barry's cancer historyMy name is Barry Larock. I'm 43 years old and live in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada.<br /><br />I have a very lenghtly medical history. I was born a blue-baby with a heart defect specifically known as tetraology of fallot. I have survived five open heart surgeries since birth, twice at age 2, one at age 9, another at 14, and finally a valve replacement at age 35. I've also been through many catherizations, blood tests, hospital visits and through it all have a deep, deep respect for the medical profession in Ontario. I am obviously very thankful for living in this country.<br /><br />Since I was old enough to remember I always feared dying from sudden heart failure. When I awoke in each morning I always listened for my heart to beat. I opened my eyes slowly and then smiled. Why... because I had made it to another day. I have enjoyed a pretty good healthy life in general. I played sports as a child, started working at age 16 part-time, attending two community colleges and started to work full-time at age 26. I have been a volunteer for sport teams, assisted with provincial sport organizations at the Canada Games and captured two Canadian Lacrosse Championships with the Peterborough Lakers as the Video Coach and Assistant General Manager in 2006 and 2007 respectively.<br /><br />My two greatest accomplishments are the day I was married to Jennifer Craw on November 16, 1991 and the birth of my son Trent on September 30, 1996. I've certainly accomplished a lot for a guy with a hole-in-his heart but I don't want to bore you right now with all the details.<br /><br />After my last heart surgery in 2000, I thought life was going good. I no longer listened as carefully to the beat of my heart each morning. I enjoyed coaching my son's lacrosse teams and I enjoyed my time with adult lacrosse both amateur work with the Lakers and professional work with the Colorado Mammoth, Edmonton Rush and Chicago Shamrox in the National Lacrosse League.<br /><br />But it was early June 2006 when all that changed.<br /><br />A small lump on my neck emerged and my family physician, Dr. Ahee, referred me to a local ear, nose and throat specialist here in Peterborough, Dr. Fuco who sent me for an MRI and then met with me in his office. He told me that there was a mass of something in my neck. He first warned me that the mass could be removed because it is some sort of tumour most likely beign but possibiliy cancerous. Of course the first thought in anyones mind is... 'What did he just say?'. When you first hear those word, immediately thoughts of death enters your mind, but then he added, "Again that is a slight 10% chance, so not to worry".<br /><br />On June 21, 2006 I had surgery to remove the tumour from my partiod gland and seven days later in his office, I was officially told the news. Adeniod Cystistic Carcenoma was the term he used but that obviously went stay over my head and into a terrified space. The only word I heard through the entire visit was Cancer.<br /><br />Acting rather calm about the diagnoses, I noticed my spouse's (Jennifer) eyes were beginning to swell and her emotions quickly getting the best of her so I remained as calm as I could, and had experience doing so, so I started to ask questions pertaining to next steps, chances of getting it all and what is the overall pronogisis.<br /><br />The next step was a referral to a doctor teacher friend of Dr. Fuco from Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto. Dr. Irish, a leader in this field, was very throughtful and extremely helpful during our visit in July of 2006. He then in turn referred to me Dr. O'Sullivan, a radiation oncologist at Princess Margaret who arranged for raditation treatments as quick as possible in August, September and October to hopefully finally get rid of any reminents of the disease.<br /><br />After completing the radition in October, I returned to PMH every three months for follow-up with Dr. O'Sullivan either seeing him in his clinic or in his office. Each time it was a quick look over and examine in the parodid area as well as inside of the mouth and concluding with some general questions pertaining to pain and areas of concerns. And then like that it was see you next time and I was off for another three months. On two occassions during these visits I had X-rays completed with the first one showing no signs of further disease.<br /><br />However, in January of 2008, I received a telephone call from my congential heart doctor who had seen something on the X-Ray taken December 19, 2007. She had received the X-Ray because the paperwork for the X-Ray had been requested by her for an appointment I had in October on the heart side of my history and so since her name was on the paperwork, the results came back to her. She then notified both I and Dr. O'Sullivan who requested that I have a Cat Scan immediately of which was done in early February and confirmed that there were a number of very small cancer cells growing on both of my lungs.<br /><br />After meeting with Dr. O'Sullivan to discuss potential options for treatment I have now been referred to Dr. Sui, another specialist in Adeniod Cystistic Carcemona which commonly mastisties to the lungs. Dr. Sui is a young asian doctor who tells it like it is. She is incredible to talk too and definetely knows her stuff. I have met with twice to date and have learned an incredible amount about this disease and the work she is doing. I desperately hope that through her knowledge she can extend my life.<br /><br />You notice I said extend. One of the first things Dr. Sui told me was that there is no cure at this time for this type of cancer. They have ways to slow or stop the progress of the disease but they have not found a cure. This is very hard for me to accept. And for anyone who reads this blog I would suspect. However, there is good in this diagnosis.<br /><br />Remember at the very beginning of this blog I explained that I used to wake up and listen for the beat of my heart. I no longer do that. I have learned in the past two years that life is what it delivers. I have been very, very, very, lucky to live 43 years. A lot of people, expecially people born in the 1960s with congential heart disease never got that chance, and another lot of people throw their chance at life away by sucide, drugs and other stupid stunts. And more that there are a lot of people have suffered far more than I have or ever will.<br /><br />Sure, I can die tomorrow from sudden cardiac arrest and quite frankly that would suck.<br /><br />If I were to then I would never get the chance I have now to prepare for death. To help plan with my wife and son for life after me. Right now my heart is good. My heart is healthy so I guess the plan for me is to go in another way. But I must be thankful for the way choosen and that is to prepare for my death.<br /><br />From now on, I'm not going to be afraid of death but rather embrace life and put all good thoughts and plans into ensuring Jennifer and Trent can enjoy the very best of life after I am gone.<br /><br />And so that's why I am writing this blog and hoping that many people read it. For people to understand that message. I am here to share my stories of fighting cancer and trying to extend my life. I am also writing it for people to understand that cancer is something that must be shared, put on display for people to get angry and do what they can because we must destory this disease once and for all. It is killing too many people. To many mothers, fathers, relatives and friends. We must find a way to control it, get rid of it and extend our lives. Because it's not really fair... that only the good die young.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and sharing...<br /><br />Next Blog... My first visit for Chemo... April 29, 2008Barry Larockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18412547073448363905noreply@blogger.com6