Fighting

I read in a few past posts that I didn' t remember much of went on, and that it was due to all the painkillers and the shock of finding out and accepting that I was ill. But there was more to it: I was(am) a fighter. I was told from the very start of my treatment that my job now was to fight the cancer. It sounded like I was joining the army and I had a special mission. I was to focus on this fight and not much more. It wasn't easy on relationships, but I had a mission. I was, I am a fighter.

Been Too Long

Hi all. The last time you heard from me was back in September when I was admitted to the hospital. I was going to start blogging again, but I didn't. I don't usually like excuses, but I do have a good one. Besides the cancer. Only a few weeks after being released from the hospital, I was readmitted for the same infection I had before. It just wouldn't go away. They told me it was a bad one. Clostridium Difficile. C-diff for short. Sounds like a rapper.

The Battle Continues

Jonathan's Cancer, here. Since Jonathan is back in the hospital, I thought I'd take advantage of his absence, and share some more photos. Check out this pic of me battling the KEEMO. I'm really kicking ass in this shot, even thought it looks likes I'm running away. I'm just posing for the camera. Enjoy.

A Coke and a Smile

I was recently readmitted to the hospital for a week or so. My counts were down and I had developed multiple infections. I hadn't been back there in a while, and I have to admit this time I sort of liked it.

Two years - No food (Complications)

When we last left our heroic patient, he was sent home from the hospital. And despite the fact that I seemed out of my mind, overall I was okay from the surgery. Then I started radiation. For twenty-eight days, five days a week I would go for out-patient radiation treatment.

Welcome Home

My memory of coming home is very dreamlike. I didn't feel a lot of pain. My new little stomach worked and I could eat for real. Steak, Chinese, pasta -- I couldn't eat very much at a time, but I could have several smaller meals which was just fine with me. I was on some very strong pain killers including fentanyl and methadone. It turns out, I found out later, that they had some big side effects. They made life livable, but they also made me a bit crazy.  I remember none of this, but according to my wife (who had just given birth a few weeks earlier) I did and said some bizarre things. I became a bit of a conspiracy nut, pointing what's really going on here (?). I thought I was Stalin. I also started acting like John Wayne and begged for a cowboy hat. I did write a nice song with my son:

Friends help friends
Put their pacifiers in their mouths
Friends help friends
And that's what it's all about

I was happy I remembered the song. The rest of it -- oh, well. Things seemed to be progressing pretty well for a while. Then I started radiation.
     

Let's Get Out Of The Hospital Already

Hey, blog readers. Jonathan's Cancer here, filling in for Jonathan who spent all last night running back and forth from his bed to the bathroom. Man, even I felt bad for him for a second or two.

Post-Op and Other Thoughts

Before I continue with my exciting cancer adventures, I want to note a few things. One, chemo is definitely having an effect on my ability to consistently keep up this blog. When I started, I was writing at least two or three posts a week. After this last treatment, I found myself unable to get out of bed -- forget sit at a keyboard and write. Also, the days off made me think about whether or not I want to relive these moments again through writing this blog. We'll see.

Cancer Photo Sharing Time

Hey.  Jonathan's Cancer here. Jonathan is too sick to make it out of bed today, so I thought it might be a nice opportunity for me to share. Also, I know Jonathan thought these photos were in somewhat bad taste, and could be viewed as hubris, or laughing at the gods, or something weird like that. I wasn't really listening. Anyway, I thought maybe if you get to know me a little, you'll see that I'm not such a bad guy. In many ways, I'm just like you.

 

This is me, Jonathan's Cancer, at the 2010 Annual Esophageal Cancer Convention at the Anatomy Country Club. That's my uncle, Susan's Cancer. I have a feeling he's gonna beat her Keemo and kill her. He's a great guy. You can see where I get my tumor.                                                        

The Surgery

My son was born on September 23rd, 2009. Six weeks later and after about four months of chemotherapy, the doctors decided the tumor had shrunk down enough, and that it was time to go ahead with the surgery.

Chemo Brain

I was supposed to start writing about the surgery, and I will, but I just came from week one of my second round of chemotherapy. I sat for four hours today, and was infused intravenously through the port in my chest with a cocktail of anti-nausea medicine followed by two types of cancer drugs.

Moving On

You ever feel like the world is passing you by? Like everybody else is moving forward, and you're somehow stuck in place. That's how I feel. I don't leave the house much, and so even a look out the window can make it feel like everybody's in motion and I'm frozen in time.

Father and Son

This is not the way I pictured fatherhood. I was determined to be a good dad -- be there for my son, teach him, learn from him, support him, take care of him, etc. That's not how it turned out. Despite my best intentions and efforts, I am not the great father I'd hope I'd be. Cancer has played a large role in this. Due to my illness and the chemotherapy treatments, I can't leave the house much. I don't move very well. I'm too weak sometimes to even lift him up.

Chemo

I thought I knew a lot going into chemotherapy. I'd heard and read about the nausea, the loss of appetite, the hair falling out, all of it, but I really had no idea what I was getting into. Looking back, it didn't matter that much. My philosophy became, "Just do it.", "Survive." Whatever the doctors told me to do, that's what I did.

KEEMO

Keemo. I'm sure Jonathan is going to tell you some sob story about the pain, discomfort, and torture he endured during his treatment, and blah, blah, blah. But, don't think for a minute that the Keemo is any picnic for me and my kind. That first treatment wave -- there's nothing more terrifying.

Second Opinions

I'm beginning to realize that Cancer is a better narrator than I am. He's more exciting, he tells jokes, he's self confident, charismatic, and says pretty much whatever he likes. I, on the other hand, am supposed to dutifully tell the story of my disease and communicate the degree to which it's devastated our lives.  I knew I was in for a tough battle with Cancer, but I never imagined we were going to be judged against each other on likability.  Blogging is strange. Anyway...

The Little Things

Last night, I taped up all my tubes and connectors, and went out with my wife to our friend's wedding. It took a lot of strength, a pain killer or two, and more preparation than I thought. But, it had to be done. I've lost a good amount of weight, so I had to have a suit of mine brought in (there was no way I could survive shopping for a suit), and I needed to buy a new shirt a whole neck size smaller.

Live every day like it were you're last

Some of the stupidest advice ever. "Live everyday like it were your last." It sounds like the right idea if you have a terminal illness or even if you don't. Who doesn't want to live their life to the fullest?  And it's great if you can pull it off. But what does that really mean? Life has a lot of waiting. At Starbucks, the ATM machine, whatever.

Jonathan's Story - The Beginning

JONATHAN:  Hello. My name is Jonathan. About 2 years ago, during the seventh month of my wife's pregnancy with our first child, I was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. Needless to say, instantly, everything in our lives changed. In a matter of seconds, we went from expecting parents to expecting one of us to die.

Day Two

Jonathan's Cancer here. My plan has hit a few bumps, but I think we're getting back on track. It took forever to get Jonathan out of bed and seated. First he had to disconnect from all these feeding tubes and IVs, then he fell back asleep. I finally had to engineer a gentle little fall out of bed to wake him up. Don't worry. Jonathan's fine. He falls down and out of bed all the time.

Welcome

Hi.  I'm Jonathan's cancer.  Jonathan was supposed to start this blog something like a year ago, but he's -- well, to be honest, he's scared. I guess I can't blame him, sort of. Just mentioning my name, Cancer, is scary to people in general.  Jonathan has been cut up, poked by needles, poisoned, zapped with radiation, and been subjected to more endoscopies and procedures and complications than anyone I know. But still, I was like, this shit has to stop. This has to be written down. My legacy can't go undocumented.  Jonathan wanted to write too, and maybe he had different motivations than I did, but I needed him.  Cancer doesn't type. But, Jonathan kept whining about being too sick or too tired or he didn't feel like it. Anyway, long story short, fully knowing Jonathan's desire to write a blog as well, I agreed to step up and help, be his writing partner so to speak... If he named the blog after me. First part of the deal, done, but I still have doubts about him. To make it easy,  I said I'd start it off, and he could then just step in and follow my lead. This is our first post. We'll see.