And a journey it has been and continues to be. Pardon my absence of late. As things have happened in my life these past few months, I’m doing good to get through them even though I know at the time the experience would make an appropriate blog post. Trouble is, most times I don’t feel like writing about it since I’m too busy trying to survive it.
As some of you may recall, I’ve been waiting to hear about my status for an upcoming clinical trial utilizing a new cancer drug. Well, I finally heard. I’ve been accepted to be considered to participate if I’m deemed eligible during a screening process while undertaking a barrage of tests and scans. Just what I need, more tests. As of this writing, I’m about to complete the screening process. The last of the tests are slated for January 30 and are coordinated by the Methodist Hospital Research Institute.
Yes, I suppose that could be deemed good news. Well, taking you back in my lifetime span a couple months, to the Friday after Thanksgiving, my life changed again – in an instant. My wife, Pam, suffered a stroke, and, in the midst of helping her that morning, I severely damaged my back. I found out later I had fractured a vertebrae. Lovely!
My wife is home, in recovery but still has little to no mobility on her left side. We celebrated Christmas Day in the rehab hospital. She begins a new series of therapy sessions this coming week.
Just earlier this past week, I didn’t have anything better to do so I had a fairly large cancerous tumor on my nose removed and am recovering from that. I look like I’ve been in a fight, what with the vertical bandage over my nose and center forehead (I somewhat resemble the Masked Marvel).
Trying not to get too graphic here, simply stitching up my nose was not an option since the tumor ran deep. Instead, they had to do a skin graph from my forehead to apply to my nose. Yeah, I know, I winced too when they told me about it. As a result of all this, I’m now sporting bruised cheek bones and bruises under the eyes. I guess that’s what happens when you have several surgeons working on you at the same time.
In all fairness and seriousness, Dr. Leonard Goldberg and the other fine surgeons at Derm Surgery Associaties, PA here in Houston were wonderful, and they got all the tumor. But, good Lord, what an experience! I am glad it’s over and healing is underway.
So, at this point, someone reading this might think it a work of fiction. Believe me, I wish it were a work of fiction. I never in my wildest dreams would have thought I’d be going through all this crap at this stage of my life. One thing I’ve learned is that cancer and strokes do not age discriminate. They don’t care. They’ll strike anyone, anytime.
I’m also not writing this so you’ll take pity on me. I don’t want your pity. In fact, I don’t want anything from you, though a prayer or two for me and my wife would be appreciated. I just want to put forth the idea that people can do what they need to do when they need to do it. Granted, they may not feel like it at the time. I went into the nose surgery by myself, having driven in dense fog that morning. Pam would have been with me, of course, but couldn’t. I drove myself home.
What lies ahead? Plenty, I’m sure. The only way I know how to tackle all this is to take it one day at a time (sometimes even segments of a day). Of course, having faith, knowing that He will help, prayer, and hope go an awfully long way.
Until next time . . .