Victoria

One year ago today Victoria did me the absolutely amazingly wonderful honour of being my wife.

What a year it has been so full of dizzying highs, terrible lows, butterflies in the stomach from the excitement of love, and distress in the stomach from treatment, tears of sorrow, and tears of joy.  Through all the ups and downs, the hills and valleys of this past year there has been one thing that has been unwavering and consistent on this continuum of life...and that is that regardless of how unstable I have been...whenever I found myself beginning to wallow in the despair of it all...when my faith was shaken....

Victoria propped me up, brought me balance, sanity, peace, laughter and always love....always with a smile...

Words on a blog cannot express how lucky I feel to have met this wonderful amazing woman...I continue to be a little in awe of her...

Thank you, Victoria for being you.
Thank you for loving me.  
Thank you for marrying me.

Happy 1st Anniversary Victoria.

And hey....even the Kinks think Victoria is pretty darn special...

Lyrics | Kinks lyrics - Victoria lyrics

A tribute to Paul

This blog post is (believe it or not) one of the toughest ones I have written for all of the emotions that has me up at 3 am to express them.  Ironically it is also one of the easiest as the words are flowing fast and furious.   Perhaps it is because I was so shaken to hear earlier this week of the passing of Paul Rutulis to multiple myeloma at the age of 52.  Perhaps it is because he leaves behind a wife, Cara, and two sons, Troy and Marco, and a wonderful circle of loving family and friends.  Perhaps it is because I know Paul and his family and have shared a laugh or two with them over the years...not as many in the recent years as we both have battled that awful brutal disease - cancer. Perhaps because I feel that cancer battlers belong to one large community of intimate strangers (if that makes any sense), with shared experiences, shared fears, shared memories and sub-consciously always considered Paul and I to be informally "in the club".  Perhaps it is because I am wracked with so many different emotions at hearing the news of Paul's passing - from profound sadness and grief...to shock, anger and despair.  Perhaps it is because I almost have a feeling of guilt that in my own personal battle with cancer I recently received some positive news from my doctors just last week that after one year...one long brutal year...I am cancer free...while Paul unfortunately succumbed in his battle.

But I check myself at feeling guilty for being healthy enough today to write this post in memory of, in tribute to and in honour of Paul.  You see I can express through my post words and feelings that are perhaps shared by Paul's family and friends.   I won't be so arrogant as to for one second pretend that I know how his loving wife and adoring sons must be feeling.  I won't be so arrogant as to for one second pretend that I know how his family circle, his extended family, his circle of friends is feeling.  What I do know is this.  I know how I am feeling.   I am stunned.  I am so deeply saddened that the second I read the message from my friend (and Paul's brother-in-law) about his passing that I shouted inexplicably to my wife that "Paul has died" and immediately began to lose it, to be gripped with despair, to cry for him, for Cara, for the boys, for his family. I know Paul was gravely ill but I wasn't aware that the battle with mm had advanced to that stage.  Craig subsequently shared with me that his passing this week was sudden and followed the latest prognosis from his medical team just a week or so ago suggesting he had perhaps 8 to 12 months left.  And then I got in touch with some really dark stuff - my own darkest fears in my own journey.  I am angry that cancer has taken another life way too early.  I am so deeply pained that his boys have lost their father at such an early age with so many memories that will never be realized.  Perhaps I am getting into touch with my deep fear for my own wife and young son.

I honestly don't know Paul that intimately or well.  My connection to him and to Cara and the boys is through Cara's sister, Erica, and her husband and one of my oldest dearest friends Craig.  I have known Paul and his family for almost 10 years, been a part of a few birthday celebrations and dinners.  I have always known Paul to be on the quieter side...more reserved...but perhaps that is simply because in the context of the gatherings with myself, Erica, Cara, Craig and others he was simply the quietest by comparison.  I may not know Paul well enough to recount stories and intimate memories of times past.  I could never write in memoriam for Paul outside of this blog.  But I hope that all of you who read this post join me in putting Cara and the boys, along with Paul's family and friends in your hearts and pray that they find comfort and peace in the days ahead amidst all the pain and grief.

http://www.lifenews.ca/announcement/2524043-rutulis-paul-mark

http://mountpleasantgroup.permavita.com/siteContent/memorial.html?personId=236102&source=redirect


Damn you cancer.  Damn you for taking another life way too early.  Damn you for leaving nothing but pain and suffering behind.

God bless you, Paul.

And Round Two goes to....

Thursday April 4.  A big day.  A day that I have been thinking about for the weeks (if not months) since the appointments were scheduled.  A day that I have been not only just thinking about but worrying about...agonizing waiting.  You see April 4 is the day that I met with both my Surgeon, Dr. Hart, and my Oncologist, Dr. Lingas, to go over the results of my one-year surveillance tests - colonoscopy, CEA blood test, and CT scan.  

If you remember from previous posts, the gastro who had both originally found the tumour last March and performed the one-year post diagnosis colonoscopy had found two polyps a few weeks ago.  Sure, he suggested that they appeared to be benign and that the rest of my colon looked good but I was still worried.  But even more than the colonoscopy, the CT scan was worrying the sh#$ out of me (trust me - no pun intended).  Remember back in September the CT scan was monitoring lesions in my lungs and a spot on my liver.  Back then the words "no convincing evidence of metastasis" caused a sigh of relief then...but it's always a temporary relief.  The fact that they found spots of concern in my lungs and on my liver in March that they were monitoring in September was a source of worry.  I didn't know I had these lesions that they are surveilling.

I don't know if I will ever...even months, years, decades from now...stop worrying.  I would imagine that worry is now on a continuum for me...some days more intense...some days perhaps not...but always somewhere in the subconscious there.  Stage IIIB - invasion of the tumour beyond the colon walls into the regional lymph nodes.  How can I not worry?!  Sure the polyps might look benign...but I need to know conclusively, definitively, that they are benign, that they are non-cancerous, that they are nothing for me to add to my list of things to worry about where my cancer is concerned. 

And the good news...no great news is that I got the ALL CLEAR from both doctors.  

I) CEA levels normal

II) polyps removed last month were benign - hyperplastic polyps that would not develop into cancer

iii) CT scan showed lesions in lungs and liver are unchanged.   As it turns out this is actually better news that if they had shown that these lesions had decreased in size.  Why? This would suggest that they were more than simply benign lesions and that they had reacted to the chemotherapy...not good.

iv) Dr. Hart supports Dr. Springer's suggestion that I need not be scoped again for two years.

So the reality of this news sunk into Victoria and I later in the day on Thursday.  If you think about it, I don't think that the news could have been any more positive than it was.

Next surveillance is CEA in 3 months, CT in 6 months.

But for now....it's time to relax a bit and LIVE A LITTLE!!!  Or as one of my dear friends suggested  LIVE A LOT!!!

So at the end of Round Two the judges scorecard reads Brown 2 / Colon Cancer 0.  I am sitting in my corner with the towel wrapped around my neck.  My coaching staff is wiping the sweat off my brow and I am spitting vigorously into a bucket - after all, kicking the crap out of colon cancer is hard work. 

Insert soundtrack to Rocky here.