Our Cancer Journey

“No one takes the journey alone. At least no one should” A quote from someone famous.
Friends and family have been asking so we thought we need to bring people up to date on Johns cancer condition.

Starting in March of 2016:

• Tumor removal on the spine
• Stage 4.4 cancer
• Nerve paralysis to his lower body
• Learning to walk again
• Chemo started soon after his return home from the hospital
• Hormone shots every few months to keep the testosterone from feeding the cancer
• A summer and part of fall “dealing”with the effects of chemo as well as getting on his feet again
• Benefiting from the good shape he was in that affected his recovery in a positive way.
• Physical therapy appointments
• Scans, blood tests, MRIs, etc, wash, rinse ...repeat
• Scary situations sending us to the emergency rooms and more tests.
• Caring staff wherever we landed

And now for the here and now. The PSA has been climbing again. Little climbs are watchable. Big jumps are cause for concern and evidently enough now to put chemo back on the agenda. As the doctor puts it “we don’t know and haven’t seen any big meanies on the scans yet but the PSA climbing means there is activity going on and there’s a group of the bad guys that are not staying asleep” Reprieves in this disease are short lived, but we are glad for them.

So, winter or spring treatments? It’s up to John. He wants to put it off and if it is done in the spring or summer he will be able to rest outside and get around better. He is pretty active around the place and has a great outlook most of the time that encourages me.

And here are some thoughts 

As I mindlessly walked among the colors at a fabric store the other day. Cancer is always in your face. Like a persistent child or pet or whomever insisting on your attention. Part of my journey is a sinking in my heart. And when that hits, no project looks important at all. I am too tired to be superwoman. I can do this. ....no I can’t , not today. The trick is letting myself not do it. So at times like this my faith and I sit on the brown earth of my mind and hang our heads. Tired. Again, this is my journey. Maybe someone else can identify.

It physically speaks to me in the groans of discomfort he has. But he is home. He is allowed to express his pain. Electric shocks to my system. His walking is slower. I can finally keep up with him. Bitter sweet? Ha. Although a bike ride proved to put him in the lead again. Smile
Mary