We finally made it the One of Kind Show. I was exhausted for some reason, woke up in the afternoon and insisted we go. Let us not miss this opportunity. We got there, rented and electric scooter and rolled inside. The scooter was the best thing we did. I even took my oxygen tank to emphasize the point.  We lasted about 2.5 hours at the show, then made our way home.

I was amazes at the rudeness of people regarding the use of the scooter. Some cut you off, others made comments just loud enough for you to hear, others did not get out of the way. All very interesting, and unnecessary. To make matters worse, it was a terrible show. I was standing in front of a painting at one point when another vendor showed up and the started talking about this that and another including the show itself. I stayed there for quite a while admiring the painting, but no one came to ask me if I wanted to buy it. I was not about to get out of my chair. Not the easiest thing to do. I left.

I have been knocked out for the couple of days. The doctors have reassured Janet that the show is the reason. I am eating well, and drinking not bad. One does not go from eating to dead overnight. Janet woke me up this afternoon to eat. It was very difficult for me to even open my eyes. Same thing this evening. Come down for dinner. Could barely open my eyes, so stayed in bed. Could have easily stayed asleep all night.

I woke up around 11:30, suddenly awake and lots of energy. Janet decided I should take advantage of the energy to update the blog since so many people are concerned by the lack of communication.

I must say it is a very strange feeling that I am going through. Quite scary on one level, well, on any level you can possibly imagine. Not sure where any of it is going. Janet keeps asking me what is going on. The simple answer is I am dying and all the thoughts and tribulations that go along with that. Sounds like a simple process, but get complicated really fast, and really does not explain everything. Is this a waiting game? Wake up in the morning and just sit around and wait to see what happens?

After my exceptionally brilliant piece on people visiting me, we are are finding ourselves cancelling visits. Cannot handle the conversation. We have at the very least, curtailed visits, limiting them to something we think we can handle. All very confusing to us, let alone to those wishing to grace us with the presence.

The blog is helping a lot with thinking through things. I have a visit with my psychiatrist this Friday, see how that goes. I am looking forward to it. There are a number of thoughts going through my head that are linked to the legacy post which I have promised and yet to deliver. It is coming, I promise. Have to get the thoughts in order. getting more complicated as we move forward.

The blog is getting very big, and we are running into technical issued. You may find it down sometimes. The techs are doing their best to keep it up and running. I am also trying to find a podcast from a CBC interview that talks about the fact that we shuld be preventing cancer, and not cure it since there is not cure for it. I have mentioned that many time before, but he has accreditations behind his name which makes him an authority so we have to listen to him. Yeah for accreditations.

All this to say I appear to be good. Blood pressure where it should be, blood counts where thy aught to be. We will get past this exhaustion thing as well. We are also going to try and get a handicap sticker for the car. I guess we can use the oxygen as the excuse. It will be good to have one. You get access to all the handicap parking spots, and can park just about anywhere you want. I am not driving any more. Do not trust the reflexes. I may also not be able to lift my feet to reach the brake pedals fast enough. Janet can take advantage of it.

All for now.  Good night.

I have also not provided you with an update of my situation. Things are moving at a rapid rate. Not the death rattle, just changes in the body and the mind. When discussing matters with doctors, I have to be careful to note that what we are talking about is taking place over the matter of days. No pain means since last time we spoke, nothing longer.

Our meeting with the angelic Dr. Hedley has now been well documented and read. My care has been moved to Palliative at the Princess Margaret Hospital. The best part of palliative is that they are totally focused on quality of life. Nothing else really matters at this point. Eat what you what, drink what you want, do not, under any circumstances be in pain.

Pain is not good for you at any time. The doctors, from the very beginning have made it very clear that pain is not something to be bourne. It has to be controlled. We have a tendency to think we should be manly and bear the pain. Good for the soul, builds character, makes a man out of you. Chin up, pull up your socks. What every single doctor and nurse tells you is the opposite. Get rid of your pain immediately. The body cannot and will not heal as long as it dealing with the pain. It cannot. Killing the pain might mask the symptoms. Mask away. The body needs time to heal. Get rd of the pain short term, heal, get off the pills.

Palliative is big on pain relief. Most of my conversations with everyone begins with are you in pain? The answer is really I have no idea. I have pain killers that are taking care of that for me, thank you very much. When in pain, take more pills. Most of my pain comes in the middle of the night when the liver decides to wake me up. I take a 2mg dose of a morphine derivative called Dilauded, and one Extra Strength Tylenol. Relief comes within thirty minutes. Unless I have a lot of thoughts churning, I am usually asleep asleep soon after the thirty minutes. Other nights are like this one, were I get up and do something.

I take a 3mg dose of Dilauded twice a day. Along with some steroid and a stomach calmer so the drugs do not damage my stomach lining. That seems to do the trick most days. Hardly a heavy dose of anything. Everyone seems a bit surprised I do not need more pain killers. I also take a couple of table spoons of Luctalose, an over the counter drano for the body. I take those three times a day. All of this is directed to my liver. The Luctalose helps the drain with its cleaning duties flushing things out. Appears to work. No constipation that I know of.

The liver is an interesting organ. More so at this point of my life. It is charged with keeping the system clean. It seems to be performing that right now to an amazing degree. It inflames, specially if I get upset over anything. That effect has been well documented, both in the world of science, and by my now fragile body. Lying on my left side is the worst, since the liver flops over and puts pressure on everything. Right is better. Back is the best, but there are only so many hours I can spend on my back. Really boring after a while. I groan when I roll around, which is not good. Keeps waking up Janet. I can hear her breathing stop as she attempts to take notes of the level of groans, waiting for them to stop. I cannot control them.

We went to see the doctor last week. They are concerned about the inflammation of my legs. Water retention, something called edema. My legs are swollen from the toes all the way up. We got tensor socks today that go all the way up. Janet has to help me put them on. I cannot bend over that far, and cannot get back up if I do. I am losing more and more control over things. Emotionally debilitating. This too shall pass. We have managed to handle everything else so far. You need rubber gloves to get the socks on over all the swelling. They helped instantly. I was amazed by the reaction of both legs to them. Put them on first thing in the morning, take them off last.  Janet then applies a generous dose of Aveno body cream to the legs and arms. Let the cream dry a bit, and off to sleep.

I had a nose bleed a could of nights ago. I went from asleep to fast awake in seconds. Just felt a dribble coming out of my nostril I have become so sensitive to the signals the body is sending. The bleeding lasted about twenty minutes, then stopped as abruptly as it had started. Every day is a surprise.

I started telling about the visit to the doctor. Their concern led them to giving me an ultra sound of the legs to make sure there are no blood clots. Cancer patients are susceptible to them at the best of times, needing no further encouragement from edema. I have no clots.

They then did a blood test. My numbers are as good as that of any healthy person. My liver enzymes that indicate cancer tumor activity showed a 20% increase. Sounds bad, except that the numbers had tripled between September and the end of October. Now, a mere 20% growth. All good news. I was furious. I can feel the body failing in some respects. My strength is way down. I am watching my muscles disappear. I have stopped driving because I do not trust my reflexes any more. I am not sure I can lift my leg to hit the brakes. The blood results are making a mockery out of everything.

Then the nose bleed.

We have transitioned the palliative care to the home care nurses. That is the way the system works. Less expensive for them to come to me. The home care doctor came to see us last Monday. We went through the history. talked about everything that was annoying us. They cannot help us any more than we are doing. We are in fine shape and should just continue. That is just the way of the new world.

The solution to the edema is interesting. The issue is that the water gets to the legs but cannot travel back out. This is the normal process for all you healthy people out there. It gets stuck in the legs. My stomach is experiencing water retention as well. The solution to the legs is to drain the stomach. The water travels back filling up the stomach which is drained again, and again, and again. A two week process. Are you kidding me??? Leave things as they are. We will stick to the socks for now.

The doctor prescribed another pill to take once a day. A diuretic. One of the side effects may be drowsiness, and maybe a lowering of my blood pressure which has been perfect through this whole adventure.  I took my first one yesterday morning and passed out for three hours. We were planning on going to the One of a Kind Show, renting an electric scooter of some kind. We had to cancel. I was livid. Cannot even have one sane day.

I am on oxygen. A machine in my office provides all the oxygen I could possibly need. Use it mostly when I have visitors. Lose my breath when I talk, some might add talk too much. A factory of air supplying me with energy. Oxygen has no smell or taste. Hard to know whether it is working or not, though I must say, it seems to work in the short term allowing me to participate in a conversation. I have an additional set of tanks, one of which is small and I can take with me.  I was going to take one with me to the show. I have had a lot of problems adjusting to the tanks. They seem to carry a signal of doom around them. This is passing slowly. Taking the tank with me on every excursion helps dissipate whatever anxiety I may over it.

Life throws a curve, we counter with a base hit, a fly ball, eventually a home run. Most things appear to lose their importance after a while. I still have a pulse and get to enjoy the company of friends and relatives. What I do miss though is doing the absurdly mundane and boring things we so take for granted. Going out to look at bathroom sinks and toilet. Shoot me now.

The show runs next week as well. We are keeping Tuesday clear for that.

The house has been full of people for the past month or so, to the point where we are all looking at each other askance. Contrary to my Visits post, we have started curtailing the visits controlling the times a bit better, giving us all a bit of a breather. This has been a quiet week. Saturday will be very busy and promises to be a fun day. Lisa is coming over to watch a couple of episodes of Dr Who with me. Shawn is also joining us.She make some popcorn and away we go into the adventures of a time lord. What could possibly be more fun.

I have a nurse coming over tomorrow to take some blood for testing and check me out. The result of crashing yesterday morning and the nose bleed. They are concerned about the platelet counts dropping to low. The solution to that is a transfusion. The crashing could be due to the blood pressure dropping. Either way, I am off the diuretic for now. I suggested to them that I could take the diuretic at 5 in the morning. Its negative effects will be over by 9. Nurse coming at 10, should be perfect. They did not bite. The diuretic has the desired effect of making me pee a lot. That is supposed to help with draining the water from my legs. For some reason, they would not put a tap in my toes.

I think I have rambled enough for one night. Will write more as situations develop.

This blog has been very helpful helping me clear my thoughts, allowing me to better handle all the curves. I thank for taking the time to read, and specially to comment.

We met with Kelly, the nurse, and Dr. Julie Ridley, and a fine meeting it was.

They made modifications to my pain medication. Had a short muffled laugh at using Tylenol for pain medication. It turns out that steroids that I was on confuse the body a bit as to the difference between day and night. Helps explain why I keep waking up at three and am unable to go back to sleep. This steroids are gone, replaced by a single pill of another one. The same steroid I was given to ease the absorption of the Chemo drugs. I am to take one a day for about a week than see if I can reduce to half a pill a day.

Dilauded is still in play. I am to take a pill twice a day, every twelve hours to be specific. These are time release pills that work, you guessed it, for twelve hours. They are 3mg dosages. I have also been prescribed Zantac. It turns out all these drugs may give me an ulcer and the latter drug helps prevent that. The Lactulose is still in effect, my heavy duty Drano.

The cancer is very aggressive and moving fast. The doctor was very emphatic that I should eat anything I want ad not worry about much. Take as much laxative as needed. As many pain killers as required. Not much can go wrong. There is a risk of addiction, funny people. I asked if there was a risk of growing some sort of immunity tot he drugs. She laughed at the notion. The doses I am getting are tiny compared to what is required to grow that sort of immunity.

We have also ordered an oxygen tank that will be delivered today. Better to have one than not. I do not have to use it if I do not need it. It will placed on the second floor, with the tubes reaching the first and third floors easily. I am not sure why I find the installation of the oxygen so hard to take. But there it is. My breathing is a lot more even since I have started the new drugs.

Finally, I have been given a 1mg dose of the Dilauded for emergency use. This pill is fast acting and its effects should last about an hour. This is just in case I ma in pain between drug intake.

The first night on the new drugs was a disaster. The Dilauded did not work, nor did the emergency rations. I took two of those, then resorted to Extra Strength Tylenol. I was in extreme pain, all up my right rib cage. The Tylenol did the trick and I was able to sleep more or less, waking up every hour for the bag, and for taking a pill every four hours. We called the doctors in the morning and were told that it takes about 24 hours for the drug changes to take effect. They were right. Yesterday was almost normal. Last night was peaceful, and today looks good. I am able to behave almost like a normal person. Still cannot have long conservations as I run out of breath at some point.

Dr. Ridley was amazing. I told her I had nothing but amazing medical attention so far, so she has to raise her bar. Lucky for me she laughed.

As usual, no signs of anything resembling death in me. Lungs are clear and so on. I look good, behave well, walk and talk like I am still alive. Except for the liver. I developed finger cramps while in Atlanta. Came out of nowhere. I was holding a book in my left hand and could not open my fingers to release the book from my Stars Wars death grip.I massaged my fingers until they opened up and the cramp dissolved.  This happened on a couple of occasions, and always in the left hand.

Same thing happened when we cam home, except in the right hand. It happened again last night in both hands at the same time. I put it down to the steroids inflaming everything.

Dr. Ridley looks a bit puzzled. She asked if I was suffering from tremors as well, which I am not. She made me hold out my arms in front of me with my fingers extended to the ceiling. She then put her hands against mine and said there were definitely slight tremors there. Blame the drugs? Hell no. Back to the liver. The liver is beginning to not behave itself. She looked at and remarked that I do not have jaundice. Yet. Another part of the puzzle. I am dying but not showing any signs of it.

She was not in favour of our vacation destination. She would have preferred a location from which we could drive home. There is a danger of the airlines refusing us access if I look too sick. Jaundice would qualify in that category. We can always hire a driver to bring us home. Fo’ad suggested we can call him and he would drive us home. There is nowhere within driving distance that would qualify as a sunny destination. Fo’ad suggested we look at the Carolinas. Fly to Atlanta and drive out there. Only a three hour drive. I laughed. This days are long gone. Cannot do a three hour drive. How sad is that?

Everything keeps coming back tot he liver. It is inflamed, irritating everyone else in the body. Lying on my sides causes the liver to put pressure on the area beneath it as gravity takes its toll, sending shooting pains up one side or the other. Pain killers help. Someone suggested that they only help mask the issue. Mask away, I say.

We are cleaning up my office today to make room for the oxygen. My office is the dumping ground for everything. Every magazine, piece of mail, what do we do with that, ends up in my office. The time has come to clean it up and throw everything out.

I have a bunch of stuff for nostalgic reasons. That part of my life is over. I am the only person who is nostalgic over the book that proved DOS batch file programming tips and tools. So much to throw away, to give away. All the magazines will end up in the hospitals somewhere for people to read or abscond away with. All the computer I kept for spare parts will be disposed of. You get the idea. It will be an empty room within a week or so.

Today is a full house day. Devin is coming home for the weekend. We have people visiting for lunch and after. My cousin Fafar who is on town for a conference will be joining us for supper, with her son Ryan. He is a chef of some kind. It will be interesting to see and Devin in the kitchen together. I have not seen years in years. It will be a good visit. I am very much looking forward to it.

You cannot have any more up to date news than this. The oxygen man just left. We now have a huge machine that dispenses oxygen as needed. It takes about 15 minutes to warm up, comes with a 50ft tube, one of those with two nozzles that fit in your nose and go over your ears so it does not come off. You see them in movies all the time. I also have two large tanks, and two small ones. The small ones fit in an over the shoulder carry case. The larger ones comes in a wheelie. All very weird.

Thanks for being there.

I am always seen to right away. The critical case that I am. The staff are generally very nice and attentive. They did blood work, blood cultures, chest X-Rays, stomach X-Rays and an EKG.

We were looked after by an amazing doctor, John Dean Jammal. A doctor and a human being. I am a very lucky man. He had read my chart. No questions were asked. He thought at first, that I may have a hernia in my stomach wall. He pushed and prodded which hurt me a lot. Then off to do all the tests.

The freakiest part of the afternoon was the nurse who came in to do the EKG. She had forgotten her glasses at home and was working anyways. The EKG is pretty simple stuff. Her next job was to take blood from an alternate source than the Port-a-Cath, in case the latter is part of the problem. She had to find a vein from which to draw blood. I had my eyes closed the whole time, because I was not feeling so well.  It only occurred to me afterwards, as she was extracting the needle that she had the procedure without her glasses. Yikes.

The results, when all was said and done are as follows. The lungs are as fine as they can be. The are cancer cells in there, but nothing else. Crystal clear. The doctor said if my lungs were the main issue, I would live for another 20 years. The liver on the other hand was a whole different ball game and the main cause of all the problems. The liver enzymes were out of whack with reality with some of the numbers tripling since the end of September. The liver was irritating the stomach and the lungs causing the shortness of breath and coughs that are plaguing my life right now.

I am also severely constipated and have been put on some commercial grade laxative. Big piece of poo just sitting there. I am also not drinking enough water. Drink more he says. The body will release whatever it does not need.

Like everyone else, he was terribly amused by our use of Tylenol 1 as pain medication. He suggested, and prescribed a drug called Dilauded. It is a variation of morphine more specifically Hydromophone. I am allowed to take 2mg of it twice a day. They gave me on the way out. I look at it as Percocet light. It pretty much dulls everything. A whole new lease on life. No pain. All organs dulled. The only side effect I have felt so far is drowsiness. I could sleep for days on it.  I am taking one pill a day to see me through the day. Works wonders.

The other side effect we are very concerned about is that I might become addicted to it. I might have to go cold turkey to wean me from it.

The doctor laughed at that possibility. For some reason, he thinks that is the least of my problems.

He also recommended we go on a trip. Just the two of us. He said if this is a case of lying around the house waiting to die, might as well lie around on a hot beach somewhere instead. We pack all the drugs we could possibly need, including something to take care of a chest infection in case it happens (not likely). We also have to be prepared to fly home if things turn sour. Purchase two one way tickets home.

The doctor does a lot of Medivac work and sees a lot of people who are very sick. He said, that looking at me walk and talk, the colour of my skin, and my general good health, I should have no problems going somewhere for a week. We are clearing the idea through Dr. Hedley this week.

We have moved our appointment with palliative to November 3. They are supposed to take over from Dr. Hedley. I will report more when I know more.

Finally, the big party is set for this Sunday at 3PM. Thank you to David Powell for generously providing his house for the occasion.

I cannot thank you all enough for all the support you have provided.

Baha’is are not allowed to be cremated. We end life by returning to the earth, completing the circle. Our ceremonies are short, except for this one prayer for the dead. It consists of 19 verses that are recited 19 times. Though not considered a holly number, the numbers 9 and 19 appear frequently in the Baha’i faith.

We are exhorted to be detached from all material things. They have such little intrinsic value that we should put our efforts in improving our spirituality as opposed to massing huge amounts of wealths and possessions. Is that Van Gogh really worth millions?

Another virtue we are told to exercise is that of moderation. We are told to use moderation in all things. Including moderation in using moderation. There is a mind bender. There is an issue at this point. Maybe that Van Gogh is worth the millions as opposed to something else I have in my art collection. A moderate price indeed.

I was back in hospital last Wednesday evening with a temperature of 38.5. My temperature was down to normal by the time we got to the emergency room. I knew the answer to the question about whether I was there to see a doctor or not, this time around. I think I also looked a bit sicker than last time we went in. The emergency room was quite busy. I was eventually ushered in. Blood tests were done, cultures raised. I was held in the unit all night. They had to draw more blood at three in the morning for more cultures. All to prove that I was the picture of health, except for the amazing number of metastasized tumours in my lungs.

And therein lies the issue. The lungs are being infected at an alarming rate, with the tumours frolicking hither and tither having the time of their life. I was sent home from the hospital and told to control my temperature fluctuations with Tylenols. Not much the system can do for me at this point.

The trials had failed. I was referred back to Dr. Hedley who is on sick leave waiting for his knee to heal. EMails were sent and an appointment was made to see Dr Hedley on Friday afternoon. Decision time.

I was optimistic. I had assumed that the inflamed liver was due to it fighting the tumours and winning the battle. The hospital visit appeared to make a mockery of that thought, but I held on to my optimism. Dr. Hedley came in on Friday afternoon specially to see me. He gave Janet and I a gigantic hug and we went into a consulting room. Shahnaz, my wonderful nurse was there, as was a student nurse. We had a 90 minute consultation. The decision to be made was the following:

1. Do more Chemo. This is the FULLFOX treatment. Side effects include numbness of the fingers and toes, extreme sensitivity to cold, to the point where you cannot open the fridge door. Ideal for a climate such as Canada’s. There would be a 30% chance of success, which in my case would mean slowing down the growth rate. We would know within three months if it was working and would have to stop the treatments in six months. We would then be back to where we are now.

2. Do nothing and let nature take its course.

The obvious question that came up is what does the status quo mean. How much time do we have. I had to ask since that was the only way we could come to some decision. The answer was quick and shocking. I have two months.

Dr. Hedley was quicker to add that the number is not written in stone, specially given my record. Regardless of its accuracy, the amount of time left is counted in months. What were we expecting. A year, Janet and I said. He shook his head sadly.

There it stands, two to four months.

We are numb. What is there to say. My sense of humour fails me. I have nothing to say. Janet says she does not accept the verdict. She is defiant. But there is little left to say.

I have spent the last few days letting people know. Tears have flooded involuntarily. We are all sad, living in a surreal existence trying to make sense of this. Two months is such a short time. This is October, then November, then December and the end. Maybe. Still too close for any level of comfort.

We are about to start doing the practical stuff. Transfer all the accounts to Janet’s name. Complete a power of attorney.  Put together a living will? Make sure we have people to look after the house for Janet. The furnace repair man, the contractor, the computer technicians. We are making a list tomorrow. Janet is taking time off work so we can spend more time together. It is all so mundane, and yet I feel fortunate that we have the time to do these things.

I have stopped day dreaming. Seems little point to it after all. What will my kitchen look like? My garden?  The thoughts are barely in my head before the streaming stops. Almost as if my computer has frozen requiring a reboot. I have trouble sleeping at night. I lay awake often to two in the morning until exhaustion takes its toll. Is that becomes dreams are now harder to come by? What is there to dream about? I have no idea what the after life looks like.

Will I see my parents again? Will there be a welcoming committee? Bunch of girls in hula dresses dancing and draping flowers around my neck? OK, so I watch too many movies. Will I see old friends, like Judy Elder? I imagine the after life as a continuum into eternity. A progression of the soul as it moves through the ether. The evil ones start lower while the saintly ones have the advantage o starting on a higher plane. I figure I am somewhere in the middle. I will be happy as long as I can Gandhi and not Hitler.

We have also started planning for the final days. We have an appointment with palliative for November 9. An appointment with the funeral home on Tuesday. The strangest part of all this is that I am basically healthy and sound in great spirits. I called the funeral home. Has the person died yet? No, I am working on it. Everyone is amazed that I am still laughing and joking. I figure these are my final days. I would like people to remember me with joy on my face rather than sadness.

My mother spent the last three weeks of her life in hospital. She was not in very good shape. I spent a couple of hours with her on what turned out to be her last night. We had always been very close, except during her cancer period. She turned to Fetneh to look after her. The last night was very precious to me. I showed up at hospital around midnight. Those were the days of lax security. We talked a lot. She had made sure that no one would be allowed to see her in the last three weeks. She said the way she looks is not the way she wanted to be remembered. She died the next morning. I remember looking art her body lying in peace, finally and thinking she is indeed dead. The soul has left.  That last memory has remained with me for the past 31 years. She was right. Remember us with the passion we had when were in good shape, not as we lie in pain in hospital.

We are going to Atlanta next weekend. Leaving on Friday, returning on Monday. It has to be short. We cannot take the chance of something going wrong while in the U.S..  We have been told that things could go from right to wrong in seconds. I believe it. I wake up sometimes, not feeling quite up to snuff. I return to bed to recover my strength. This morning was one of those mornings. I seem to be fine now. Nothing like a bunch of steroids and Tylenols to perk you up. The steroids open the lung channels, and the Tylenol deals with the pain. Miracle workers between them.

We are staying in a hotel in Atlanta. More privacy. Devin is coming down from New York, and Fetneh is joining us from Montreal. My family is planning on spending a lot of time with me over the next little while. Fo’ad has cleared his schedule and intends on coming up to Toronto to spend a week at my place. Our hotel is opening its doors again.

The whole situation is surreal. I will keep saying that. There is not other way of looking at it. You talk about your own imminent death. What kind of conversation is that to have? Defies sanity. Everyone keeps asking what they can do for me. The only thing left is to enjoy each other’s company. Talk, laugh, have a good time. Nothing else matters.

I am planning to have a plain casket, made from pine. I am told that these are available. I would like a stamp placed on top that says: Property of God. The style will be along the type that was used in raiders of the Lost Ark. I am not going to have a guest book. We will instead have markers of different colours available so people can sign the casket. I can have your names with me for the next part of my journey. That will also save Janet from having to send thank you notes to everyone. Consider yourselves thanked.

This has been a very difficult entry to make.  We received the news last Friday. I have had this open on my computer for a week now trying to find the right words and cadence.

I thank you for being there. For listening, crying and laughing. Hopefully more of the latter.

I had lunch with my father in law the other day. I always enjoy his company (he may be reading this). We talked about the operation. I remember waking up and wondering when they were going to start. We are finished they said. I lost eight hours with those words. I have no words for what it feels like to lose eight hours out of your life. Almost a full day.

No recollections, no memories, nothing. Eight hours just went by and you have no idea what happened. You are alive, so it could not have been that bad. The lack of recollection is hard to forget or get over. My pa-in-law remarked that it is probably as close as we can get to death and come back to this life. Strange thought that. If that is what death is like, then I will have no recollection of that either. Except it may last a bit longer than eight hours.

I am seeing my oncologist this coming week, and my surgeon the week after. I might suggest we have champagne to celebrate. If only I drank. A number of my friends wanted to know if I was about to change my ways and start drinking.

On a separate note, I got a phone call from a telemarketer from the U.S.. She wanted to know if I wanted to move by business bank account to the TD Bank. I told her I was out of business. She went on to explain the benefits of making the move. I told her the company was closed. She went on again with her script. Again, I said, the company is closed. Oh, you are out of business? I told her that was a bit harsh and I still prefer to say that y company is closed. They can still provide me with some services, for instances coming up with a new business plan.

There was little point in continuing. She was very nice on the phone. Had a good way about her. I did not want to be rude and just hang up. I told her that I was not interested because I have cancer. She did not miss beat. Calcium is good for fighting cancer, she has read. A telemarketer is giving me cancer advice. Wonderful world is it not?

She mentioned that calcium creates an alkaline environment which is not favorable to cancer cells. She also suggested that I deprive the cancers cells of oxygen. I explained that while it was true that an alkaline environment is not favorable, I am not sure how much calcium you have to take for it be effective. It is highly probable that the amounts you have to take would damage your system. That is possible of course, but she had just read an article on calcium healing cancer. She was a nice lady.

I think every day of my friend who is about to go into palliative care. Her cancer has run its course, I accompanied her for her appointment with the department the other day. Strange to be there. I am glad I went.

The other side is the amazing support of friends and relatives. The good side.

We spent last weekend visiting friends and taking full advantage of their hospitality. Saturday was spent on the shores of Lake Simcoe. Janet’s cousin Deena, rents a cottage on Lake Simcoe every year. We spend a day visiting. Her brother Bryan and family come up as well, as does Eva. All good making for a small family get together. I had a good chat with David Margolese whose company I always enjoy.

We spent Sunday and Monday at the Fraser farm taking full advantage of the company and space. The Frasers were all there, including the delectable and always charming Ceilidh.

Heather Fraser is doing some very interesting work in all kinds of places. We talked (again) about the work of one of her friends. A Dr. Robert Buckman. He, the Doctor, theorizes that we are better off treating cancer by slow doses of Chemo instead of the current methods of bombarding the body with a huge dose of the drugs. The theory is that the cancer cells start dying when bombarded, but soon retreat, in effect removing the threat. The magic happens once we stop treating the body to the cancer drugs. At this point the cancer cells return in full force attacking the body with renewed viguour.

The slow treatment allows the body to be treated with low doses of the Chemo drugs, in effect fooling the cancer cells into thinking nothing is happening, that they are not under attack. This treatment lulls the cancer cells allowing for a more prolonged attack. The current trials have been done on breast cancer patients. The treatments are called DalCM-P. Goolge it, or read this article. I have an appointment with Dr. Buckman this coming Thursday.

I have started my Chemo vacation in a very slow mode. I have been away from my computer for a few days, which is very unusual for me. I have a lot of projects on the go, but find myself in some sort of a limbo state. Still trying to come to terms with all the unsaid words about why we are on vacation. I am eternally positive in my outlook, yet cannot help but wonder about the future.

People insist on telling me that they could die early when they get hit by a bus. I finally found a link that talks about the possibilities of ending your life with said method. As my friend Stone remarked, it is not a competition. If people insist on getting hit by a bus, they are more than welcome to go before me.

I am also receiving information about alternative treatments. More specifically, two people have written me with information on Y-90, an isotope based treatment directed at liver cancer. It is also used for treating metastasized cancer that are now affecting the liver. Items for discussion with Dr. Buckman.

I have not been interested with the type of cancer that is afflicting me until now. The rare occasion when the question has come up has resulted in me answering with something to the effect that I have the type of cancer that eventually kills you. A lot of the remedies I am reading on the web refer to very specific types of cancer that are affected by the treatments. It might be beneficial for me to know what type of cancer I do have to make sense of the articles I am reading.

The amount of information is mind blowing and very confusing. Following the idea that each body is different and reacts differently to everything adds to the confusion. There are cases of people who have been removed from treatments that have survived. People given 6 months who have lived for a lot longer. The comments of people who have tried certain remedies and are waxing poetic about it can also be misleading. Are they genuine? What was their affliction? None of it is corroborated with statements from reputable hospitals or clinics or doctors. We will believe anything that we think will cure us, however absurd it may sound.

How to differentiate between the absurd and the items that make more sense. Does the guy who claims that eating hot peppers on bread with garlic for two weeks make sense? A pepper based diet will rid you of cancer in two weeks he says. That diet will also be rid of me in less time. He just might be right though. Do I throw caution to the wind and attempt his remedy? The temptation is there, going against all common sense.

The next few weeks will see me working on a few projects. I will attempt to make my camera bag. Finish at least one of the two web sites I am working on. Maybe render my new kitchen to paper, as well as the new design for the back yard. All these things take time and concentration. I ams till sleeping in the afternoons. For longer periods than before the vacation. These get in the way of the projects. Do as the body tells.

Time to see the psychologist.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for your thoughts, support, and prayers.

Take a couple of months off to reassess the situation.

Ponder the meaning of life.

Start working on all my projects.

Keep away from the routine of the hospital.

Janet was talking the other day about this situation. You start on this adventure in a bit of a daze. You ask a bunch of questions. According to Janet I was asking my fair share of questions. Except that I was repeating my questions. I was getting answers and repeating the same questions. As I said, in a bit of a daze.

You acquiesce to the advice given by the doctors. Specially if you like them. They seem to know what they are doing. Dr. Heldey has a huge collection of articles to his credit. Surely, he knows a lot of stuff about colon cancer and its metastasized state. He is very reassuring. All we can do is follow his advice.

There is a lot of talk of alternatives to the traditional medicines. There are no proofs, just a lot of information. It is very hard to sift through all the information. We have discovered that you tend to make sense of the information as time goes by, as the need arises to make sense of things. So much of the information is anecdotal. We have no idea if people are responding to the medication, the alternative choices, or not.

I have always maintained that I will not live just for the sake of living. I will not go through a regime that seems to be more work than it is worth. What price is life worth living for? All this work and you live an extra two years. Is it worth it? Probably to the people around you, but not for the person going through the chronic condition. At least not to this one. I keep reading about people going through all sorts of programs to live longer. Why the compulsion to live at any cost?

The health network has looked after me for the past year. Diagnosis, operation, Chemo. Everyone looking after the chronic. With a smile, a laugh and a hug. You, the chronic are being looked after by all these people. The chronic is not doing anything, while things are done to him. We are a bit powerless. Go to the hospital, give blood, get Chemo. Make sure you have taken your drugs before the Chemo. Go home, sleep, rest, make the best of the situation.

We have to move now from having things done to us to deciding what we need to do for ourselves. We have to follow through with some of the stuff we have been reading about. Make sense of all the messages we are getting. Again, sift through everything and make decisions.

I find the situation very confusing. Again not sure if that is the right word. I have a lot of projects to work through, a lot of time to figure things out.

We are slowly realizing that a lot of decisions are ours to make. If we want to quit the Chemo Session, than quit it is. We are in charge of our treatments. The doctors are there to guide and advise us. The ultimate decision is ours. This is a bit freaky. We are never sure if we are making the right decisions or not. Do we have the right amount of information to make a decision? Is it the right decision? To make matters worse, the doctors themselves are not sure either.

Every body reacts differently to the drugs. We were at a small party celebrating Kali’s birthday the other day. One of the friends has a brother with very advanced lung cancer. The gave him one Chemo session to which he reacted very badly. All the stuff they keep expecting me to go through. So sorry to disappoint. They removed his brother from any further Chemo treatments. So are you still on Chemo, he asks me. Yes. How long have you been on Chemo. Almost a year now, since last October. He was dumbfounded. I do not look or behave like a Chemo patient. Except for the afternoon naps. We are all different.

My blood work showed more positive results than last time. My liver enzymes are closer to where they should be with one indicative being totally in the normal range.

Dr. Hedley brought up the fact that we have not had a break since this thing started. I started feeling the pains in June 2009. By August 1, the diagnosis was fairly complete and certain. Operation on September 2, Chemo in October. Yikes. A year without a break. The doctor saw no reason why we should not stop the treatments right now and take our vacation. A CT-Scan was planned for Friday (today) to set a baseline for the future. Next CT-Scan in two months. Chemo would only start again if my situation deteriorates. A steady condition will result in a longer vacation.

A two month Chemo Vacation is on the books. Cannot believe it. I am in a bit of a daze. Basically what happens when you receive bad news or terrifically good news. You cannot believe your ears and shut down. Two months with no Chemo.

Janet and I stared at each other. What do you say? How do you react?

Doctor Hedley wanted to feel my stomach to make sure all was right. I suggested that things were still a bit tender. I can lift heavier bags now, but feel some discomfort if I overdo things. I am sure the healing process will speed up without the Chemo getting in the way. He appeared to confirm this. Good news. I am looking into going to the pool on a regular basis to strengthen the stomach a bit. I get bored swimming. Back and forth, you go. I will have to do it nevertheless.

Can we start eating raw meats again? I miss my steak tartar, sushi, and oysters. I was given the green light for sushi. Say it ain’t so. We decided on the spot that we would have that for dinner to celebrate. Diana, Nancy and her daughter Lily are coming over. Makes for a grand celebration.

Dr Hedley mentioned that we are in really good hands with his nurse, Shahnaz. We truly are. She is magnificent. She mentioned how much the nurses in the Chemo daycare like me. I walk in with my big laugh and cheer them up. The doctor just shook his head. All the nurses love him he says. Then gives me a gigantic hug before leaving.

Janet and I were left alone for a few minutes in the consulting room. She high fived me. This is the first time in almost a year were I could a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She seemed ecstatic over the news. She had a bright smile and a glitter to her eyes. That was enough to make me happy.

I phoned Fetneh and Fo’ad that night. It is always good to talk to them after news like this. It helps air my thoughts, clear the cobwebs a bit, get some perspective. I eMailed them of course, but that was not clear enough for them. Fetneh was jumping for joy. She made me promise to not withdraw from life because of this. The are chances of withdrawal symptoms creeping in if you are not careful. The hospital has been a home away from home, as it were. A very safe place to spend time in. You get sort of attached to these things. The routine. However horrible the Chemo experience is, you get used to the routine. The people. The support.

I assure her that I will not regress. I will keep the blog going. I may have a bit of trouble adjusting to the new freedom. We will see.

Fo’ad was just as supportive, of course. How does this change life? I don’t know. My curly head of hair may even make a comeback. I see no negatives in any of this. I become so much stronger when I am off Chemo for even a week. This can only be good.

We have lots of plans. We have been invited to all sorts of places. Long trips are out of the question. One day excursions within the vicinity of Toronto can be done. We are going to see Anne and Frank in Pickering, John and Sharon have invited us to their horse farm, Heather and Neil want us to go their farm. Heather reminded me that it is almost a year to the day when we went to their farm to share the news. Their friend Beth was there, also a cancer patient. She had a long conversation with me about what to expect. Strange to think of that now.

Devin is leaving us to go pursue a master degree in Change Management at the New School in New York City. We should be flying down on August 21. Sadness and happiness combined. I am ever so proud of him.

September will see me visit Montreal again to spend some time with Hong Lan. Janet will be attending the film festival in Toronto. My visit to Montreal will take some pressure off her. I have to talk to Hong Lan a bit more about what her remedies are. Stuff that includes acupuncture to increase energy levels. She deluged with so much information that I had trouble absorbing it all. A revisit is a must. To say nothing of spending time with Fetneh, of course. I will try and stay in the same apartment as before, taking advantage of Steve Mykolyn’s generosity. It is good to have a space of your own, specially when you are in my condition.

I lay down when we got home. All this stuff is a bit overwhelming. We had dinner and I returned to bed and made my phone calls.

Yesterday was my very first day of this vacation. I slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I also wandered around the house a bit lost. I have so many things to do, so many projects on the go. Where to start? Sleep of course. I am having lunch with Kali today. Looking forward to that. Planning the trip to New York when I get home from that.

Tomorrow is a new day. Taking us back to another sense of normalcy. Can’t wait.

So it was on this Tuesday. The Chemo Daycare unit lost track of the prescription for my Chemo medication. They had to phone the great Dr. Hedley to get a renewal. I waited an hour and a half. The waiting room was full. I just assumed they had fallen behind. I finally decided it was time to ask questions when I discovered what was causing the delay. This was not good news. The had just received the go-ahead. We now had to wait a couple of hours for the pharmacy to prepare the drugs.

I had arrived at the vampire clinic around quarter to ten. My two favourite nurses were there, Delanie, and Viviene. Delanie took on the task of sucking the blood out of me. This was going to be a full blood test including the liver enzymes in preparation for meeting Dr. Hedley on Wednesday. I mentioned to Delanie how impressed people are with the committee approach to looking after us. She smiled and said that is reserved for complicated cases only. Ahh, more information. Every visit yields new insights.

This was going to be a long day. The whole process was finished at four in the afternoon. All the nurses who looked after me were terrific as usual. They have looked after me before, making for a very relaxed afternoon. My blood count was good. I am hoping to avoid Neulasta for this week.

A couple of interesting observations. One of the patients would not shut up. I watched him in the waiting room. He changed seats three times and engaged the people sitting beside him. They never said a word as he started his conversation and continued until someone else came along, or he was interrupted or something. He sported a small red button that loudly acclaimed that Cancer Sucks.

These two ladies walked in as well. They were a bit agitated, a bundle of nerves. One of them was the companion. They were both wearing the same T-shirt that said something about supporting some cancer fighting initiative. The tag line read Kicking Cancer.

I could not help but wonder at both these displays of distaste with cancer. I do not see the point of either. Both appear to me to be negative in their outlook. We all know cancer sucks. No ones needs to be reminded of this less than the other cancer patients in the room. Yes, it sucks, but what are you going to do about it? Railing against the intrusion does little except make matters worse.

Kicking cancer sounds a lot like you are constantly kicking your self somewhere you should be avoiding. In my case, that would be the liver. Already painful enough. It does not need to be kicked any more. It has gone through enough punishment already.

We have covered this ground before. We surely need more love for our bodies. Fetneh is always reminding me to talk to my liver and tell it how much I love it. Amongst all the other stuff we are doing, it is surely helping. One of my cats, BooBoo Long Paws, insists on lying on me for a bout five minutes almost every day. He lies on my stomach and purrs. We are sure that my liver responds positively to that as well. Whatever. We are full of superstitions about all sorts of things, why not add this to the list.

My body has stopped reacting to the Chemo drugs. Even Avastin is no longer causing the destruction to my nose. I have not had a nose bleed in a couple of weeks. I was talking about this with a friend of mine who said, wow, this is a good thing, no? No, is the answer. The body has rallied summoning all the forces within the immune system, to render all the drugs useless. This is not good. We are seeing Dr. Hedley on Wednesday for a longer discussion on what is next in this new life of ours.