A Belated Thanksgiving Post

"He is a wise man who does not grieve the for the things he has not, but rejoices for those which he has." -Epictetus (Greek Philosopher).

Well, yesterday was Thanksgiving, and upon reflection I am overwhelmed this year by all that I have to be thankful for.

In 1964, someone diagnosed with my A.L.L. had less than a 3 percent chance of surviving five years. Today, thanks to the endless work of scientists and medical professionals, 70-80% of people diagnosed with the disease are cured of it. Today I am thankful for the years of work that gives me hope I will die a crusty old man.

Today I am most thankful for the amazing support structure that surrounds me. While doctors have dramatically increased the cure rate for A.L.L., the treatment protocol is long and rough (3 1/2 years). My family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers have come to help me through this hard time without complaint. Words cannot describe my appreciation to those who reach out a hand of support or send me well wishes.

I feed off of the support of others; it puts a wind at my back. I rarely like to ask others for favors, but, alas, I'm getting better at it and will occasionally on this blog. So, today's request: If you're reading this blog, become a follower (click on the upper right hand "follow this blog" link). Also, if you're already following, please post a photo of yourself on the profile. Seeing your smiling faces looking back at me when I log in always brightens my day. If you do, I'll be forever thankful.

A quick health update: blast #2 came on Wednesday and I'm starting to feel it a bit more. Writing and reading are getting a bit more challenging and they will get harder over the next few weeks as my blood counts drop (that's why the Thanksgiving posting is coming a day late...) While I'm finding the chemo is physically debilitating, I'm optimistic and in good spirits. I will beat this.

Hope you all had a terrific Thanksgiving and enjoy the long weekend,

Sam

Sam's philosophy on the duality of good and bad

I must warn the reader that I will go back and forth between heavy and light on this blog. I enjoy humor and will return to it as much as possible, but it will also be heavy at times and I hope it will be insightful. This will probably be a heavier posting, but I'll reward the reader with "masturbating into a cup... explained" and a terrific "hair contest" within the week to lighten the mood.

Alright... Sam's philosophy on happiness and why bad things happen to good people...

I don't believe, as many do, that everything happens for a reason. I also don't believe that "bad things" or "good things" happen. Rather, events happen and there is always both good and bad in them. The key to a happy life is to search for the good in everything.

Having Leukemia has drastically altered my perspective on life. The last week has been difficult, painful, and uncomfortable a great deal of the time, but it is very rewarding in it's own way. Today, after enduring extreme fatigue, chest discomfort, and a nasty spinal headache, I finally summoned the energy to bundle up and go for a walk around my neighborhood. Never before has a simple walk been so enjoyable or so beautiful.

I enjoyed the sound of snow crunching under my feet and the cool air against my cheeks. I enjoyed and relived memories as I passed some of my favorite hang outs (Mickey's Tavern anyone???). I took the time to look around and take in my surroundings instead of focusing on my destination and what lay ahead -- it's a truly wonderful thing to live in and enjoy the present.

Lately when I see strangers my age who are healthy, my thought is not the "why me?" that I would have expected, rather it is a thought of "they don't understand how beautiful life really is." Paradoxically, cancer offers a lens to look through that reveals life's magnificence and beauty.

As I say, there is good and bad in every event -- In fact, we would be incapable of understanding good if it were not contrasted by bad and vice-versa. The coming years will be the hardest of my life - incomprehensibly hard - but I cannot imagine the overwhelming joy and euphoria that finally beating this cancer will bring.

Well, tomorrow I'm in for another blasting. I'm scheduled for another bone marrow biopsy, spinal tap, and round of chemo. It will not be pleasant for me, but my hope is that it will be even less pleasant for the cancer cells (and by less pleasant I mean lethal).

I will try to embrace the line from Red Foreman in That 70s Show, "I like pain, I learn from pain."

Till next time, and thanks for all the support,

Sam

On Chemo and Superhero Children

Chemo is a strange experience. A nurse wearing protective clothing removes syringes that have labels reading "Danger Extremely Toxic" and things of that nature, then you watch in disbelief as they pump the chemicals directly into your bloodstream.

It seems counter intuitive that we treat cancer with many of the chemicals that do, in fact, cause cancer.

My doctor informs me that as a result of chemo, all of my bodily fluids are toxic, and I thus must be careful not to impregnate my girlfriend as my toxic sperm could have "indirect effects on the child." I enjoy the ambiguity of such a statement and like to think that this greatly increases my probability of having a superhero for a child.

I have yet to come up with a name or best powers for my fictional superhero child... Any suggestions?

The Great Escape

Round one of blasting complete, and I'm feeling far better than expected. I just hope the cancer cells are feeling the wrath of the chemo and my mental will to kill them.

After just two nights in the hospital, they let me go home last night as I seem to be responding well to chemo. I'm finding that there is an hour or two in the morning when I experience a lingering spinal headache and feel extraordinary nauseated. Thereafter, I seem to feel great and am very excited about it.

I received some more terrific news yesterday; the spinal tap performed on Wednesday revealed that I don't currently have any lymphoblasts (the cancer cells) in my central nervous system. This can occasionally happen and is usually bad news bears...

I'm very excited to be back at home, and hope to avoid infection and the hospital for as long as possible.

Uncle Jimmy's Hangin' Balls

Well, a bit of humor just brightened my day. While emailing my good friend Julie, I wrote the phrase "kick this cancer in the balls." As many of you know, Gmail now scans email content and tailors side banner text advertisements accordingly. My Gmail advertisements now read, and I promise I'm not making this up:

Silk Kissing Balls - balsacircles.com - find the perfect kissing ball, variety of sizes, flowers and colors.

Schwetty Balls Home

Hand Blown Glass Balls - Friendship balls, Gazing balls, and Witch Balls

and my favorite:

Uncle Jimmy's Hangin' Balls - horses love these fun treats: Great tasting in four yummy flavors!

Well, now I know what I'm getting all my friends and family for Christmas.

I'm still waiting on the Chemo. I hear I should be blasted within the hour and will update when I'm able. My friendly nurse says the prednisone might "make you a bit PMSey." "You'll know what it's like to be a hormonal woman" she informs me. Well, we all have that to look forward to.

Peace,

Sam

A Good First Day

I have a lot to comment on over the past two weeks, but first i must let everyone know how i'm doing (I'll probably be playing catch up for a couple of weeks...). Today I began treatment and it was a full day, but overall not nearly as difficult as i anticipated.

The day began by checking into UW Hospital and finding my hospital room. I then had a central line placed, an catheter-like IV that begins on my bicep, runs up a vein to just outside my heart. This will allow the doctors and nurses to administer Chemo and take blood samples without continually poking me or damaging a vein. While I expected this procedure to be painful, it was far from it -- really, I hardly felt a thing.

I then had an echocardiogram test and am happy to report that my heart seems to be working as it's supposed to.

From here, my day got a bit more interesting as the doctors sedated me to perform a bone marrow biopsy, a rather painful procedure where a needle is placed through your hipbone (from your back) to suck out some bone marrow. I cannot remember the procedure, but can vaguely recall calling some friends as the sedation wore off. These were undoubtedly some of the funniest calls people have ever recieved. At one point while trying to call my friend Jesse, I forgot what I was doing. Our conversation started something like this:

Jesse: Hello
Sam: Who the hell is this?
Jesse: What? Who is this?...

You can imagine the confusion for a few minutes (I know this only because I called Jesse back this evening to find out what I had said...

Finally, this evening I recieved a lumbar puncture (known alliases include "spinal tap" or "LP"). This was a suprisingly easy procedure where they took a bit of my spinal fluid out and replaced it with some chemo. All went well, only I seem to have a bit of a headache now, likely resulting from a lack of spinal fluid.

All in all a pretty full day, however I feel suprisingly well. Tomorrow I'm slated to get blasted with chemo, and i look forward to killing some cancer cells.

Thanks for all of the calls, emails, and letters. Your support is really helping me through this. I apologize that I havn't responded to all of them, but its a challenge keeping up.

Till next time and take care,

Sam

A Statement of Intent

As many of you already know, two weeks ago I was diagnosed with a form of leukemia known as Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia or A.L.L. As a twenty two year old and a recent graduate of college just beginning my adult life, the diagnosis came as a serious shock. My life has changed significantly in an extremely short period of time (mostly in a good way strangely enough), and I think it's important that I document this journey. My favorite weapon is the written word, and this blog is intended to be a place for me to gather my thoughts, let those following me know how i'm doing, and i hope that someday it can be a resource for others battling my disease.

I must warn the reader that this blog will be about life, and life often deserves an NC17 rating. I intend to be open and vivid about everything that I am going through good and bad. Humor, insight, and wisdom can often be found in the most unlikely of places, and I will hunt them with unwaivering persistence. Please don't get squeamish or offended when I discuss procedures or masturbating into a cup (i've got your attention now, don't i?), its all part of the experience.

As a final note, I will not allow cancer to define me as an individual. This journal will document my life in treatment and outside. It will include my favorite stories of the past and my greatest hopes for the future.

I hope you'll follow me on this journey. What is in store I cannot begin to predict. The only certainty is that it shall be interesting.