The Surprising Suckiness of Inspiration

 

“If you start to take Vienna – take Vienna!!”

Napoleon Bonaparte – on keeping focused on a goal, applying overwhelming force, and not getting distracted.

 

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Personal Details & Updates

This is the third of the three weeks in Cycle 2. Overall feeling great, although my bounce back didn't come quite to "normal" this time, which is not just expected but part of the glamor of chemo. Each time, I expect to bounce back a little slower, and not quite as high. No complaints, this is WAY better than the CHOP-R I had last time, the BEAM before my transplant just giggles at Bendmustine. 

Next week, cycle 3 of 6. Moving from 1/3 of the way to 1/2 of the way done.

Thanks to Jeff Conner, who fixed my weedeater so we can keep up on yardwork. Not only did he have to take it apart, he had to make the thing to make the thing to melt it down to base metal and recast it into a new motor. That may be a little exaggerated, but not a lot. I continue to be re-amazed at the giant and supportive circle of friends and family out there.

And, as we say in the business .... any day you wake up with hair is a good one! And it looks like I'm in the 90% that keep it on this regime. 

The Fine Art of Being an Inspiration

All who know me, I hope, would agree I'm direct but not a braggart, except where my kids are concerned, which is socially acceptable. So when I say I've been told I'm an inspiration, I'm bringing it up in the context of today's philosophical rambling, not to toot my own horn. Which is an odd expression, by the way.

The problem with the Inspiration business is that it comes in two parts, which rank out as really hard and pretty hard.


Step 1: Have something really really bad happen to you that doesn't immediately kill you.

Step 2 - N {where N is between 2 and The Trials of Job}: Don't suck at the rest of it


It's possible to be an inspiration through clean living, good works, and the right amount of modest visibility. But let's face it, Step 1 above is a much shorter, and more common, path. And you don't even have to try, you generally get it as a free bonus given for playing The Game of Life.

So now, lets talk about Steps 2 through lots. Surprisingly few folks descend into the Pit of Whinyness. I'm always impressed how ordinary, mild mannered, run of the mill humans rise in the face of adversity. In a perverse way, being around a bunch of really sick, beat up, often dying people, is a very positive experience. In short, most people Do It Right.

How on earth do you "Do Cancer Right?" Well, just as cancer is an intensely personal and individualized disease, so are people's responses. Some quietly just get on with it, being pleasant and uncomplaining. I remember running into saintly lady named Betty Wheeler in the chemo room years ago, and was stunned to find she was on her sixth round of cancer. That's right, six times. I'd known her for 20 years by then, and had no clue until we saw each other in the infusion room.

Others tackle it with great, loud, good natured gusto. Many people are just jolly about it. They face the Monster with the intent of beating into submission with pure good spirits. They're helpful, kind, more concerned with the nurses and techs lives, families, and well being than the medical professionals are about them.

Then there's those of us who see it as a competition. The quote on the back cover of my book says it all:

"What is our aim? ... Victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror; victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival."

Winston Churchill, 13 May 1940

 Here's the other one I refer to a lot as I fight the good fight:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Hebrews 12, NIV)

So, we meet it head on, determined to punish the Monster, drive it out of our lives, stomp it, break it, bag it, burn it, and sink the ashes in concrete at the bottom of the deepest part of the ocean. As I like to say, "what's worth doing is worth overdoing."

And then we get serious about it. And do it more.

The key to most people's rise to the level of inspiration is at the beginning of the verse from Hebrews. "A cloud of witnesses" are watching. Our family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, and acquaintances are watching. As for me, if win battle after battle but lose the war, I want my wife and kids to remember me as never having given up. Personally, I doubt many people who don't have close friends or relatives could fight as well as a spouse, parent, child, or  sibling can. But I could be wrong. I just know that's why I do it.

 

Horrible Bad Poor Taste Cancer Joke Of The Day: Don't have one. Ran out. Internet only has 6, just change the name of the disease. Somebody help me!

Instead, here's a semi gory, funny only to cancer patients story from my book.

Funny story (if you're not me.) (slight artistic license applied, just because I can!) I go weekly for blood work, was feeling like crud last Tuesday. My mouth felt like I'd burned it on hot coffee, except it included a taste so bad it made me sick to my stomach. The nurse said, "stick out your tongue." Then "Have you eaten anything orange?" I said no. She said "hmmmm" and got another nurse. And another one. This was in the chemo room, which is about 10' x 20' and had 6 patients, plus family, plus 4 nurses. So PDQ my tongue had been examined by 4 nurses, the lab tech, the receptionist, 7 Little Old Ladies, 4 LOMen, two doctors, and a drug salesman. Everyone except the salesman thought a bright orange, fuzzy tongue was kinda cool. He looked a little queasy, but since everyone else was looking, WTH. Finally I told the doc "The words you NEVER want to hear from your car mechanic or cancer doctor are 'Hey, everybody, look at this!' " That broke him up enough to tell me I had Thrush, which is common to babies and chemo patients. It's a fungal infection. But he'd never heard of orange, its usually white.  So I spent the week with mouthwash, anti-fungal drugs, and everything tasting like burnt paper mache. But I'm over it now. And probably the feature topic in next years "weird cancer patients" seminar somewhere nice like Cancun.

For the record, the second thing I asked Good Doc Levine is "will bendamustine give me thrush?" (NO! was the answer, so I said to go ahead.)

Thanks again to all of you,

Yours in Getting Better and Better In Every Way Every Day,

Kevin