So here we are......

Anthony & I were working on a blog at the time he passed away on Dec 1/2011.  The title above is the first words of his unfinished entry which I will post now.  It will forever remain unfinished by him however I believe I can shed some light on where he was going with it.

"So here we are, it's finally happening, or so it seems.  My current prognosis is 0-3 months, maybe 6.  Ironically enough, Christmas has become a factor once again.  My family, my friends, my smiling angel & I are still holding our heads up high.  Knowing that miracles can happen & believing it gives us all hope that OUR current situation (and it is OUR situation as we are all doing it together) could play out differently then what the Doctors have told us irrespective of the reality that is still affecting us all.

It has been quite a ride & I don't mean for it to sound like I am giving up because I am not but there are certain realities that do require facing at this juncture...."

That is as far as we got however much discussion was held between us prior to beginning the writing of the actual entry.  He wanted to let everyone know that he would not give up & he did not, not in any small way did he ever give up.  Cancer destroyed his body, it was powerless to destroy his spirit.  He wanted everyone to know he had found peace & deep love in his life in many places.  It was important to Anthony that he tell us all how strong he knew we were & he asked me to make sure that we all take care of each other (we will baby, don't you worry about that).  I am also pretty sure he asked all his friends & several of mine to take care of me too (and I am certain they will), he worried about me & all he loved with a selflessness that astounded me.  He wanted to say that he had come to terms with his cancer & the end of his life.  There was some anger, some regret but not too much of either considering what he faced on a daily basis for the last 2 years.  Some discussions were of unfairness but he never talked about how unfair it was to him, only those of us he loved.  Mostly though, in his last days when we talked, Anthony talked about living, loving, laughing, crying, sorrow & how to grieve (yes he left some instructions for us, imagine that!) and his gratefulness for his life & all of those who loved him.  He was amazed we would take on the project of caring for him at home & accepted that care gracefully.  He was surrounded by love in his last days & moments just as he should have been & I believe that love & the power of it is what allowed him to go.  He fought as long & hard as he could & he was looking forward to an end to the pain & suffering he endured daily.  He told me this & I believed him.  He was unafraid.  He had a few regrets he wanted to share even though he thought it was "kind of depressing" but it was important to him that readers see the reality so they will take steps to protect themselves and their loved ones, He regretted that he had so much more to learn & see & show & give & would not get the chance to do so, and, the fact that the ones he left behind would suffer sorrow & pain.

So that's some of what was on Anthony's mind.  Alot to digest perhaps, hopefully some good food for thought.  Stay tuned.

Back again.

Living is a funny thing when it's the only thing you are doing.  There is a difference between simply living and actually having a life.  Being in my current condition, which is essentially, disabled, my days just flow together into one long day that never really starts or ends.  Being out of the "rat race" does some strange things to your perspective.  I`ll get back to that in a minute

A quick update on how things are going from the medical side of my life, there is little change.  I'm still sleeping like a cat (hence very little blogging, among other things) I have to use a cane to walk now, and glasses to read.  Steps are a problem, and I can`t drive right now because of my eyes, but I have been feeling an improvement in my circumstances.  It could have something to do with my current drug intake.  I just started a new treatment which is four rather large pills once daily.  So, as of today, I am consuming 39 pills every 24 hours!  (and if I don`t take them my body feels it)  This can be tricky business to stay on top of, especially with my long sleeping hours.
Sleeping through my pain killer intake is the worst for me personally but irrespective of that there are still four children that require as much attention as I can give and I also have to find time eat.  I went down to 135lbs when I was on chemo.  I am currently at 140lbs and holding.  I have been trying to increase my caloric intake with supplements and energy drinks but again, my increased need for sleep hinders my ability to stay on top of it.  There is also the fact that my appetite is weak and the numbness in my face and lips (the radiation did not work as well as hoped, also related to my eye problem) can discourage me sometimes from eating as much as I should.

It amazes me how I essentially have free reign with my 24 hour days and yet sometimes still don`t have enough time to do everything that needs doing.  We take for granted our ability to do so many things and use that ability to distract ourselves from life by keeping ourselves busy all the time so we don`t have to think about the important stuff, y'know, life, the universe, and everything.

I wanted to expound on this a little further but my eyes are just not cooperating so I'm gonna cut it short and try again later. 

Cheers to all, I hope life is being good to you.

Strange days.

The world is a different place for me now. 
My world is one of disconnection from what others might call reality. 
I am a star, but also a spectator. 
A star due to the attention given to me by Doctors, Nurses, Technologists of all kinds trying to "cure" me, and also from the attention and favour showered upon me by my loved ones. 
A spectator due to my inability to to participate in so many things that I took for granted previously.

These past several weeks I've been put through the wringer; physically, emotionally, spiritually.  There have been good moments, but overall, it's been very challenging and based on my itinerary for the next several weeks it isn't about to get any easier.  I have been radiated and chemo-ed almost to death, with little positive affect, [Not zero, but not enough for me.] and now I'm joining a clinical study to test a new drug with hopes of greater success. [Hope...hmm...sometimes I feel I'm running short on that.]  This battle has taken me to places that I never imagined.  I was...naive perhaps, maybe a little too hopeful?  I have felt my strength waning, my resolve...dissolving.  It's not been pleasant.  But...I am currently on an up swing, my strength and my resolve are growing once more, and I am going to ride that train to it's fullest, because right now, that train is all I've got.

The "Sandman" is doing overtime.

I've been sleeping since last Thursday.  I wake up long enough to pee, sometimes I can grab a bite to eat, and then down I go.  My most recent chemo treatment, which came the day before that, has been a little harder on me than most. 

According to my Doctor the chemo has successfully lowered my PSA count to a point where he is considering beginning a new form of treatment which will have less side effects.  Unfortunately it has also lowered the platelets in my blood, which apparently is the cause of my unwanted slumber.  Due to this uncontrollable need for sleep I have been unable to conduct my customary amount of research to determine how this actually works so I'm kind of flying blind right now with regards to how I'm feeling and what I might do to help rectify the situation.

I'm told that a blood transfusion is required to get my counts back up and allegedly make me feel better, so, that is where I'm going today.

I hope it works so the "sandman" can take some time off and I can stay awake for more than 45 minutes at a time.

Ah, here he is now.  Time for another nap. 

Chemo sucks!

Eleven days!  It's been eleven days since my last chemo treatment and I am only now able to stay awake for longer than six consecutive hours.  It's been  a rough ride this time around.
I know this stuff is supposed to help me, to make me better, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth it.  It knocks the shit out of me and leaves me feeling pretty low.
The battle continues...

Here comes the sun.

Radiation is done, chemo continues, summer is coming, and I feel pretty good.

I'm still a little disappointed that I haven't acquired spider powers from my experience ;-), I guess I'll just have to improvise.
I did get a pretty nifty mask out of the deal.  Maybe I should start shopping for a cape.

Bring on the summer...I can't wait!

Some heartfelt advice.

I sit, and I wonder... a lot.  [I suppose that's what happens when you get pulled out of the daily grind and your not distracted by the mundaneness that makes up most of our day to day lives.] I ponder over the infinite possibilities -the opportunities- that present themselves to us with every passing moment of our finite existence, the love that binds us together and the avarice that threatens to tear us apart, if we allow it.

This cancer that tries to grow within my shell, that tries to kill it, has been a blessing as well as a curse, on so many levels.  I have felt the joy of an outpouring of love and kindness from familiars and strangers alike.  I've had conversations and experiences that I'm sure would not have occurred if not for this "threat" that hangs over my head.  Dare I be thankful for this curse as a result of the joy that has juxtaposed itself with it?  It seems contradictory and yet... on some level I don't think that it can be avoided.  Don't get me wrong, I have known (and felt) the love and joy that we all have and are capable of sharing, long before a Doctor found a "nodule" growing on my prostate, it just seems that it takes some kind of tragedy (or impending one) for us to truly let loose and let those around us know how we really feel, about them and sometimes even ourselves.

I have claimed more than one purpose for this rambling blog of mine; education of men's health, quick and easy updates on my condition for the people who care, a place for me to vent.  Today, I think I'd like to add another...to remind people that love is a verb, not a noun.
When was the last time you, dear reader, told someone close to you that you love them?  Mother, Father, Brother, Sister, Spouse, Children, Friend?  I'll bet it's been awhile, and I think I know why; for some reason that word makes people squirm.  For that discomfort I have no explanation.  Perhaps it reminds us of feelings that we selfishly try to keep to ourselves for fear of appearing weak or vulnerable to others.  [Which is the opposite of how I think it should make us feel]  Whatever the reason for that, my advice to you is quite simple: do it anyway.

You might be surprised at just how good it makes both of you feel.