In order for me to fulfill a bucket list wish my wife Jennifer instructed me that I could do so on one condition.
"UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG", she said.
So here it goes. Today is Tuesday, January 6, 2009. WOW, I made it to 2009. I have to be happy with that accomplishment alone.
This year I'll be 44 years old in March. The 26th in fact, in case you are wondering. 44 just happens to be my favourite number as well. Which makes things highly ironic as this year may be my last. You see, I think like that all the time. When I last wrote my blog on October 24, 2008, I wondered at that time...
"Is this my last trip?"
"Will I see Christmas?"
"Will I see 2009?"
Questions like these pop into my head constantly. People talk about next summer, when we're 50, what they're doing for retirement. Hell, I'm hoping I live till Christmas.
But then again, here I am. My health for most part has been pretty good. I have been congested more recently and coughing at night. That is expected with my disease and its progression. However, one must go on and deal with those effects. Overall though, its the mind that struggles with the end. I keep telling myself not to think about what will happen but live for today, tomorrow and two days after that. Live in the now, ease your pain by taking advantage of your condition now and not the future. For we never really know what the future will bring to any of us. This is important to remember for anyone, healthy or sick. Live for today, not for tomorrow.
So that's why I'm going on another adventure. A bucket list wish to see Las Vegas. My good friend John called me recently and asked me to go with him and his friend, Don. "We're going for five days," he said. "That will be plenty of time for you to get into trouble." John also advised me that all I had to pay for was the flight and bring my own play money. He would look after the rest, accommodations and meals. John is an amazing guy. You have to love a friend like that.
So I asked Jennifer. Of course she said because she knows how important is for me to do everything I can before I can't. Jennifer had one condition, of which I am doing right now. "UPDATE YOUR DARN BLOG," she said.
For the past couple months since my last Blog, I've been in pretty good shape. My brother and I had a wonderful trip to sunny Curacao. Temperatures of 33 degress celcuis day and night. Lots of beaches with pearly blue water and sand. A plethera of drinks and a golf course that took way too many strokes to complete. It was a true brother to brother bonding adventure.
Then came the Christmas season. Fast paced and enormously busy, I was lucky to see my new great neice, who is just as beautiful as her mother was as a baby. I was lucky to spend Christmas Day as the host of Christmas dinner, along with Jennifer and Trent, with my family. On boxing day, we travelled to Barrie and spent the day with Jennifer's parents and her brothers family. My brother-in-law, David, and his wife Trish have twin girls, who are 3-years old now and again as precious as can be. It was a tremedous thrill to read a book to them in my lap that day. Something, I hope, they will always remember.
Aside from those two busy months, I have been living life as normal as can be expected. Following Trent to hockey practice and games. Sharing in household chores like cleaning and cooking. And getting plenty of rest and watching movies. There are times when I don't feel ill. That is until the time comes when I have to force down my throat four little pills, called Chemotherapy, every 12 hours for two consecutive weeks. It is then that I am rudely reminded of my fate and my mind begins to wonder.
"Will I make it to my birthday?"
"Will I get to see Trent play lacrosse this summer?"
"Will Jennifer, Trent and I go on another holiday?"
It sucks. Believe me I know. The only positive thing I can take from this situation is that life is what you make it. And I'm going to make it last for as long as I can. I'm living in the NOW. And I don't give two shits about the future.
***
One final thing... if you notice on the right hand side of the blog at the bottom there is a section called Friends of Barry. Please click on the follow button and add your name to show me that people are reading this blog. I would certainly appreciate it. Thanks!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog, (I promise), January 19, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Friday, October 24, 2008
More Stories from the Past
It's always nice to hear from my friends.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
***
In two weeks I will be away on a holiday with my brother, Blaine.
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.
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.
And I know I'm going to be extra, extra careful around the water!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... November 11, 2008
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
***
In two weeks I will be away on a holiday with my brother, Blaine.
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.
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.
And I know I'm going to be extra, extra careful around the water!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... November 11, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
An Interesting Life
Someone once told me... "To be honest, would your life really be interesting enough?"
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.
Not many of you know, but prior to the 1960s, children born with heart defects had little chance of survival. Those born with congenital 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 Thorton Mustard, a worldwide pioneer in open-heart surgery.
The comment, by the way, came from a administrative lead with the Adult Congenital Heart Clinic at Toronto General Hospital who with that statement basically shattered my dream of passing along the message to congenital 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.
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 parotid 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 'Larock and Roll' lifestyle.
I say Larock and Roll because, of course, my last name is Larock 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.
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.
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?
I want you to be honest as well. I don't want any pity cast upon me because of my current situation.
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.
You see, Mr. Ballard was considered a mean tyrant who everyone hated because he didn't spend that much on the beloved 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 Beddoes and working with at the Peterborough Memorial Centre with Mr. Peter Bourgeois, a personal driver of Mr. Ballard in the 1970s did I realize and honestly believe that I was a recipient of a Mr. Ballard $5.00 bill.
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.
***
My cousin Grant Holohan 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!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... October 21, 2008
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.
Not many of you know, but prior to the 1960s, children born with heart defects had little chance of survival. Those born with congenital 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 Thorton Mustard, a worldwide pioneer in open-heart surgery.
The comment, by the way, came from a administrative lead with the Adult Congenital Heart Clinic at Toronto General Hospital who with that statement basically shattered my dream of passing along the message to congenital 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.
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 parotid 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 'Larock and Roll' lifestyle.
I say Larock and Roll because, of course, my last name is Larock 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.
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.
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?
I want you to be honest as well. I don't want any pity cast upon me because of my current situation.
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.
You see, Mr. Ballard was considered a mean tyrant who everyone hated because he didn't spend that much on the beloved 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 Beddoes and working with at the Peterborough Memorial Centre with Mr. Peter Bourgeois, a personal driver of Mr. Ballard in the 1970s did I realize and honestly believe that I was a recipient of a Mr. Ballard $5.00 bill.
Sick Kids Hospital has always had sports figures come to spread hope in the eyes of young patients. Mr. Ballard, however, did it unanimously 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.
***
I want to touch on the loss of a friend recently. The City of Peterborough 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.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.
***
My cousin Grant Holohan 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!
Thanks for Reading and Sharing... next blog... October 21, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
The Road to New Chemotheraphy
Pills! 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 diarrhea. YUCK!
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.
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, coumadin. For the first time since I was a teenager I was free of a daily pill. That lasted 8 years.
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 Capecitabine. 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.
When I received the first prescription of Capecitabine 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?
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.
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 blonde locks, nor am I visiting the infamous porcelain bowl vomiting. 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 occurrence and I have simply learned to live with it.
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 PMH (Princess Margaret Hospital) for blood work and a meeting with my doctor to ensure the side effects are not to strenuous on the body. If blood work is OK, then I return home to do it all over again. Pills, pills and more pills. Don't worry, you never get used to it.
Just ask my parents.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... Next Blog.... September 23, 2008
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.
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, coumadin. For the first time since I was a teenager I was free of a daily pill. That lasted 8 years.
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 Capecitabine. 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.
When I received the first prescription of Capecitabine 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?
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.
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 blonde locks, nor am I visiting the infamous porcelain bowl vomiting. 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 occurrence and I have simply learned to live with it.
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 PMH (Princess Margaret Hospital) for blood work and a meeting with my doctor to ensure the side effects are not to strenuous on the body. If blood work is OK, then I return home to do it all over again. Pills, pills and more pills. Don't worry, you never get used to it.
Just ask my parents.
Thanks for reading and sharing.... Next Blog.... September 23, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Still Kickin' - September 9, 2008
Hi.. I hope you remember me. I'm Barry Larock and I'm still alive and kickin'!
I know a lot 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 chemotherapy 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 (ahhhhhhhhhhh!) Just kidding.
The summer just blew by and here we are today with the recent addition of my blog.
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.
We went camping! We went on a cruise to the Eastern Caribbean! 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.
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.
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 chemotherapy 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?
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!
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.
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, because 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.
Thank you for reading and sharing...
Next Blog.... the road to new chemotherapy... September 15, 2008
I know a lot 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 chemotherapy 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 (ahhhhhhhhhhh!) Just kidding.
The summer just blew by and here we are today with the recent addition of my blog.
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.
We went camping! We went on a cruise to the Eastern Caribbean! 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.
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.
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 chemotherapy 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?
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!
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.
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, because 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.
Thank you for reading and sharing...
Next Blog.... the road to new chemotherapy... September 15, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Random Acts Of Kindness .... June 23, 2008
When 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.
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.
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.
When Trent and I arrived home later that evening after the ball game and a delicious dinner at the Yonge 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.
She also held up a plate of chocolate macaroons 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).
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 incredibly thankful to be able help as they did and the whole event made them feel very good inside.
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 MPP, 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.
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.
***
Appointment number 6 in Toronto was a typical day of blood work, lunch at Druxy's 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 nauseated when I stepped into the front foyer of PMH this time and the stench of it was in my throat until we left.
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 PMH 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.
My nephew Nathan Latchford drove from Beachburg, Ontario (just west of Pembroke, Ontario) on Tuesday, June 17th 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 Otonabee. And so, after years of 4-H cattle shows, Nathan found himself a fiancee, Jackie, and so has moved away to Beachburg, 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 Peterborough, he told me. "It's much slower up there Uncle Barry and I love it," he said.
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!
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.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next Blog - The Longest Day... June 30, 2008
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.
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.
When Trent and I arrived home later that evening after the ball game and a delicious dinner at the Yonge 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.
She also held up a plate of chocolate macaroons 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).
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 incredibly thankful to be able help as they did and the whole event made them feel very good inside.
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 MPP, 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.
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.
***
Appointment number 6 in Toronto was a typical day of blood work, lunch at Druxy's 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 nauseated when I stepped into the front foyer of PMH this time and the stench of it was in my throat until we left.
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 PMH 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.
My nephew Nathan Latchford drove from Beachburg, Ontario (just west of Pembroke, Ontario) on Tuesday, June 17th 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 Otonabee. And so, after years of 4-H cattle shows, Nathan found himself a fiancee, Jackie, and so has moved away to Beachburg, 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 Peterborough, he told me. "It's much slower up there Uncle Barry and I love it," he said.
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!
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.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next Blog - The Longest Day... June 30, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
5th Day of Chemo - June 10, 2008
Father's Day has a whole new meaning this year.
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.
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.
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, "Come'on Lorraine, it's time to go home".
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 .
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.
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.
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.
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.
***
My sister Beth took me to Toronto this past Tuesday for my 5th 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."
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.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next Blog - The 6th Chemo Visit.... June 18, 2008
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.
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.
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, "Come'on Lorraine, it's time to go home".
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 .
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.
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.
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.
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.
***
My sister Beth took me to Toronto this past Tuesday for my 5th 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."
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.
Thanks for reading and sharing...
Next Blog - The 6th Chemo Visit.... June 18, 2008
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