Adam's Story: The Long Weeks of Cancer are Over!
I am here writing to you again after seeing myself as a comic book character. I actually thought it was really well done, boosted my ego (which may or may not be a good thing), and illustrates the story quite well. I do not know if I want to see the sperm bank edition of the comic strip, may be a glimpse at past humiliations, but it should be good.
That said, I am one needle away from being done with chemo, and even better yet completely done with my long weeks on the Etoposide and Cystplatinin. I am sure glad that I do not have to go through long weeks any more. I just can feel the needles still from where they scratched the inside of my veins, and it doesn't quite tickle if you catch my drift.
Right now, I kind of feel like someone who is coming home from a war or something. Like a seasoned veteran of cancer who went through the horror stories, stormed the beaches of...yeah nevermind bad analogy, and lived to tell the tale. Even some of the people at the Hillman center are like, "Adam, when are you getting out of here?" It has only been about 100 days, yet it seems much longer at times, yet shorter as well. I guess the time flew but also stood still. I hope you all can understand what I mean, its slightly paradoxal.
So, right now, I have one bleomycin shot left and a round of bloodwork, then two weeks off, then a CT scan to see how the tumor has shrunk, followed by tests to see if anything is brewing, followed by a game plan of what to do next. I hope "next" does not include surgery, chemo, or anything of that sort. In fact, I optimistically hope that "next" includes lifting, training, regaining feeling in my hands, and having my skin turn back to a normal color and my hair grow in full. Sounds like an ideal for the old "next."
On the other hand, I did miss an opportunity to train for and compete in the Olympic Trials because of the cancer, and it has me a little bummed to say the least. The Olympics were something I always wanted to do, and now I have to wait another four years to have that shot again. I sure hope good things come to those who wait. I guess I have no other choice.
This brings me to two points. The longest and hardest trials never really seem that long looking back on them. They really never do. How many times can we look back and just wonder where the time went? It seems like yesterday my whole entire life was turned upside down and inside out. In only 100 days, I was able to turn it mostly inside-back-in and right-side-up. It was miserable, but it has an end. Addiction is miserable to get over, but it has an end. Depression, sadness, cancer, and many other negatives are purely miserable to go through, but they have an end. And when they do end, you look back on that time and wonder somehow where it went.
Secondly, is if you jeapordize your health, you may miss some key things that you would want to do. I personally would have gnawed my arm off with my teeth to have the opportunity to compete in the Trials and try out for the Olympic team this year. Because of what happened, though, I have to wait for another four years to get such a chance again. Why would you do something that could jeapordize your chances at seeing or achieving your goals or dreams or realizations? I mean, it is kind of deep to think that, but it could happen. I feel almost like I have been pushed through a sort of "Hell on Earth" of sorts in the last 100 days. I am sure it is nowherhttp://www.healthcentral.com/stop-smoking/ae near Hell, but for sake of analogy lets use it. If I could do anything to avoid going through the cancer again, I will. If I can do anything to help anyone else avoid going through what I had to go through, I would. It can be that nasty.
That is about all I have to say. Be strong, fight hard, and keep making strides in putting whatever demons you may be battling to rest.