Cry, cry, cry!

Dear friends,

I hate to do this but I am going to use this post to “cry on your shoulder”. I keep telling myself that this blog is suppose to be a place to build strength and confidence, not seek pity. But the past 14 days have really taken an unexpected toll on me. Maybe somewhere along the way of recalling these events I will be able to find the blessing in these events. At this point I don’t know where it’s going to come from, but that’s the value of this blog to me, finding strength and meaning through writing.

OK, first off my spelling of the cancel drug was way off; it’s spelled “Irina-T-Can”. Every Dr. and nurse made a special point of telling us that they all refer to it as “I-run-to-the-can”. So named because it causes SEVERE diarrhea. I’m not real knowledgeable about diarrhea other that the kind all my kids and grand kids get. You know the time you look back and forth at your spouse pretending like you don’t smell anything and trying to quickly figure out how you can get to another room without getting hit in the back of the head with a flying object. Well, it turns out there is another type of diarrhea, regular bowel movements except at an accelerated rate, like 6-10 per day. Doesn’t sound like a bad thing especially if you don’t realize that with each movement you are losing vital bodily fluids and nutrients, later explained to me as “electrolytes”.

I was soon to learn what the loss of electrolytes does to a body. It starts with a loss of energy. I’m not just talking about being tired, I’m talking about body weakness so severe that it’s a chore to just get out of bed (and remember, I need to get out of bed a lot!) Then the muscles in your body begin to cramp. I mean every muscle, legs, hands, arms, back, feet, throat and neck. Not all at once and not at predictable times. But when they cramp they are severe and painful. Apparently the lose of the electrolytes and body fluids cause the muscles to contract. Of course, at this time I still have no idea why I’m having these symptoms. I’m fatigued to the point where I can’t even get out of bed, I’m having these severe muscle cramps and I can’t stop going to the bathroom. I have to say that I am in absolute misery. I lay in bed each day just wishing that the day would end and just maybe tomorrow will bring me some relief. But that doesn’t happen. Each day is like “groundhog day”, just a miserable as the one before.

After 6-days of this I didn’t think life could get any worse. I was actually thinking that maybe this was the end sneaking up on me. Nothing like I was expecting, but I was actually starting to think that I couldn’t take much more of this misery. Marlys kept pouring fluids into me but it didn’t seem to do much good. My body was so weak I still couldn’t get out of bed. I was sleeping 20 hours a day. But the worse thing was that my mind had stopped functioning. I couldn’t watch TV, I couldn’t read a book, I couldn’t even hold a conversation. Both mind and body were shutting down. I have never felt such despair and hopelessness before. I just wanted it to come to an end.

On Monday night Marlys saw the look in my eyes and called the Dr. and told him something had to be done. He brought us in to the emergency room at midnight. They did their diagnosis, severe dehydration. That night they gave me 3-liters of saline. When I left the hospital I felt this remarkable change. It was like someone had changed bodies with me. I was still very weak, but I felt like I was going to be OK. My mind actually started to function again. I still felt slow and had difficulty engaging in conversation, but at least I could feel my mind responding. Over the next 4-days I was back at the hospital each day for another liter of saline.

Two days after our midnight adventure I woke with a temperature of 102.4. I had been losing my appetite for several days, something that to this point in my process I have not had a problem with. Now I just plain quit eating. I had lost 10-lbs in 7-days. The body weakness was back, the muscle spasms were gone, but my mind was going away again. I started to get that ugly feeling of despair and hopelessness again.

On our next visit to the hospital they diagnosed me with the flue. Along with the saline they started me on two different antibiotics. Marlys took me home, dumped me into bed and went to fill the prescriptions. I guess I should have been feeling pretty good, they had diagnosed, prescribed and now it was up to me to wait it out and get better. I will say I was hopeful, but I was still sleeping 18 hours a day and still couldn’t muster the mental capacity to read a book or have a meaningful conversation. Within a few days I had drifted back into the physical/emotional hell that had been holding me hostage for the past 2-weeks. I told Marlys I couldn’t do it any more, to take me back to the hospital and I wasn’t leaving until they could do something to reverse my slide into hell.

This time the whole cancer team got involved in a diagnosis. They decided that they should put me back on steroids, so they dumped some steroids into my bag of saline and pumped me up. It takes about an hour to drip a liter of saline. And by the way, at least for me it is a very relaxing experience. I’m in a very comfortable recliner, they give me a warm blanket, and I usually listen to music on my I-pod and usually sleep through most of it.

Well, let me tell you, when the doctors get it right, they really get it right. And boy did they hit the nail on the head. When we were finished I felt like a brand new man. When Marlys was walking me to the car “I asked her if we could stop and get dinner”! This coming from a man who hadn’t eaten for almost 7-days. She looked at me like, “who is this guy”?

I don’t know what the hell those steroids did, but whatever it was was a miracle. I have been on them for 3-days now and I am a totally different person. My mind like just “snapped back”. My body is still weak and I have more balance issues than before, but that’s just a “little bitch”. The important thing is that I can process information again. The next morning I actually got out of bed and fixed my own breakfast. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was a huge event for me.

In the past 3-days I have gone from total despair and hopelessness to “strapping the gloves back on and getting back into the battle”. I may still be weak of body but it will come back. The important thing is that my mind is back and as I have learned, that’s where the true strength is located. I am so grateful to my doctors and my wife for seeing me through what I hope will be the most terrifying and trying two weeks of my life. I certainly cannot envision any experience that could be worse.

Three days ago I could not have even imagined writing this blog entry. I apologize for being so whinny and negative. But I have never felt so low. And you have all been so supportive that I wanted you to understand not only why I haven’t been blogging, but why I haven’t been returning emails and phone calls. But now I’m back. I am already planning my next blog, and I believe I have found the “blessing” within the experience of the past 2-weeks that I was hoping I would find by writing this. I am anxious to lay it out for all of us to see. Tomorrow.

I love you all, especially you my beautiful and carrying wife, Marlys.

Busy week, new treatment update

It’s been a busy week filled with blessings and confusions. I have received many wonderful and heartfelt messages from friends. Each contact sends me into a reflective stage wondering how and why these friendships developed. I spend a lot of time thinking about each relationship. I recall things that passed as meaningless at the time, but now bring both tears and joy to me. Snippets of conversations, memories of support and sacrifices from all fronts. I find irony in some of the conversations where friends are telling me how much I have helped them with this or that situation, while as I recall it was really them who provided the means. I often recall how proud I was that they would just trust me enough to allow me to comment or offer support (though I know I was usually pretty pushy). But it was always their will, their commitment that brought about the result. I accept that this is probably the definitive definition of ‘friendship”, when two people agree to trust each other and work together to resolve a situation, accepting that the outcome will be what it is and not effect the sincerity of the relationship. Perhaps it is just my current situation that allows me to reflect in this manner (do you think?). But as time passes, I hope to share with my friends one final message; how to recognize the blessings of true friendships. I am in the process of building such a “lesson plan”. I will share it with all of interest very shortly.


Last Wednesday I went in for my second round of “new” treatment. This time they gave me two bags of “refreshing” liquids. One is called Avastin and is designed to block the building of new blood vessels in the brain. Cancer cells have a sneaky way of spreading; they build these roadways out of new blood vessels and then travel to new areas. The Avastin is supposed to retard the “construction” process. I hope it works as well as Obama’s stimulus program. I might live for another 3-5 years.

The second fun bag is a chemo called Irinacan (sp). Somehow it is suppose to take the fight directly to the cancer, kind of like sending in platoon of Navy Seals. Going in I didn’t notice anything, but for the past days my insides feel like someone pumped an aquarium full of goldfish into me. I’m not sure what to feed them, I never know when they are going to sleep or perform their “Sea World” act. I’m told that things should settle down in a few days. I’m just hoping that the Navy “goldfish” are taking this fight seriously. I have to wait six more weeks before they do the next MRI and get a body count to see who is really winning. My money is on the Seals. (sorry for the reference to goldfish, I was only kidding!)

Contact options

I know that now everyone is comfortable with leaving comments on this blog. For those who wish to communicate directly with me here are some options:
Home email: eridave@comcast.net. Work email: dave@evergreenhvac.com. Home phone: 206-824-7058.

Please feel free to pass on this blog address or any of the other information to anyone who you feel might have an interest.

One last final thing, I accept where I am. I don’t like it, but I accept it. It does not bother me to discuss it. I know that many people are not sure how to approach this subject. Rightly so, I’m not sure I would know how to talk to someone who was in my situation. That’s why I’m giving everyone the green light to just talk to me. Tell me your stories about the loved ones you’ve lost. Tell me your thoughts on religion, life, and death, whatever. Tell me the funny stories about the things we’ve (I’ve) done. I’m interested in knowing what you are thinking. I know you feel sympathy for my family and me. And I know you want to tell me that. So go ahead and tell me. But also tell me about you. Believe it or not, it is really important to me to know how you are doing. The most meaningful things to me right now are remembrances of the good thing that have happened during my life. Help me remember them.