Miracles do happen...

I have been quite a bad blogger the past weeks... Lots has gone on in my life, including but not limited to the discontinuation of chemotherapy for my illness.  Im saving all that for another entry that Ive been working on and off on, but tonight is a completely different entry...

Tonight Im writing from Cleveland, at Donnas house, its 0100 christmas morning and the last 24 hours for me have really been quite overwhelming...

A few months ago I wrote an entry about having a friend who was in pain, suffering emotionally and physically.  I wrote about how my heart was breaking for him, and how his mother and I had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get him home as he lived in San Francisco - a world away.   He surrounded himself by people who dont care about his well being, they used him, abused him, and then discarded him like trash.  The past 18 months for this friend, a friend who I consider one of my absolute closest - nearest and dearest... the closest thing to a brother I expect Ill ever have... well, those 18 months have been awful for him.  The world failed him.  The people he thought were his friends failed him.  He failed himself. 

Its no secret my life has changed in the past three years because of everything I've been through, and I've been changed for the better because of it.  This friend, so loyal and true, was one of the very select few (3 to be exact) that came and saw me after my diagnosis.  The story goes, Lauren called him and said 'It's about Ryan and it's not looking good for him'.  With just that, he boarded the first plane back to Ohio to be at my bedside, to hold my hand, to reassure me, to hug me and ultimately tell me - I was going to be okay.  When I was in a place that was filled with more unanswered questions than not, these friends, him specifically, were an answer to one question that I so desperately needed answered... I was not alone. 

It was from that day, and I know I say this often, that I said to myself 'I will repay him someday, for the kindness and love he showed me.'  And when I found out what it is I found out, I knew without a shadow of doubt, this was my chance.   That was 18 months ago... I have spoken to his mother regularly, updating her on what i know hes going through, the stuff she might have not heard from him, because you see, there were only two people here fighting to save my friend... his mother and myself.  We have tried and tried, and I know his mother has done way more than I have, and I suppose if I was in the financial situation I'd have gone out there to get him myself.  

His mother has become one of my dearest friends, and watching someone you care for not be able to live their life because their mind is consumed with how to save their child is heart breaking.  I can't tell you how many times we'd gotten together and she would shed a few tears and I was able to stay strong and didn't cry, but on the inside I was sobbing uncontrollably for both her and him.  My fight to get my friend back, quickly became my fight to get my friend back, and his mother her life back.  I don't know many parents that would go to the ends of the earth like she has, I like to think my parents would, but this woman is, in particular, amazing and I hold her in very high regards.  I promised her, from day one, I was in it for the long term, and he could do anything he wanted to me or say anything, but I wouldn't quit... because I owe him this, and on top of that, even if I didn't feel I owed him something, he has been a constant in my life for almost 9 years. 

There were times that were tough, screaming matches that left us with hurt feelings, the feelings she and I would have of knowing we were the only two people in this fight for him, missed flights, empty promises, tons of money gone...

But none of it mattered...

This was a life we were talking about and not just any life, the life of an extraordinary individual who we both loved regardless of the hateful things or actions that may have been tossed our way.  I often describe those friends that stood by myside at the hospital by saying; they were those who loved me when I didn't love myself.  His mother and I, we are the ones who loved him when he wasn't loving himself.

In any event, the past week has been a roller ride to say the least... first he was coming home, then he missed the flight, he didn't talk to us for a few days, then we were both screamed and yelled at, then he calmed down and ultimately I got the phone call Thursday from him and he and I had the conversation that we needed to have, and I was able to get him to agree to come home.  I knew he had gotten to the airport at SFO in the morning and neither myself nor his mother heard anything from him.  She drove to Columbus International Airport last night praying he'd be there. (even though we were about 95 percent sure he was on the flight)...

At 10:50pm last night, things in the world just seemed to be right for once.  My friend was home.  My emotions were big, I ugly cried, I laughed, I smiled and sniffled... but it was all happy.   I know last night was the first night in 18 months that his mother has gone to sleep and not been so sad that she cried because her son was out there.  She knew exactly where he was, right where he belonged - next to her.  I went to bed and instead of tearing up because this person I loved so much was in so much hurt and pain, felt so much dispair and lonliness, and was potentially homeless... instead of that, I went to bed knowing he was warm in a bed, with a roof over his head, near a refrigerator with plenty of food.  But most of all, I went to bed knowing he was safe.

Though we've just started the next part of the journey, I've learned a lot about myself through this as well and I've gained in his mother, an amazing friend and someone I consider to be a second mother.  There are other ways I can help him now, ways that I can definitely be of big help and I'm glad to do so.  I just hope that something I've said or done for him in the past 18 months helped.  Helped him, helped his mother... just helped. 

So why write this blog on this night of all nights?

Because this night is the night that meant the most to his mother.  All she wanted was for him to be home by Christmas this year.  There were times when it looked like it might not happen, and times when we both were discouraged, but it is this night, Christmas Eve night, that he is asleep where he is loved and protected.   Christmas miracles do happen, let this just serve as an example.  I'd have gladly given up any gift to know he'd be here, and on Monday when I see him, Im going to give a belated Christmas gift, but one that I've waited so long give... The hug I give him when I whisper in his ear, through all the tears I know I'll have, that everything is going to be okay.

Dont forget:

     Never give up.

     Persistence does pay off in the end.

     A human life, especially one of a family or friend, is priceless.

I hope, wherever you are, you have the most wonderful Christmas.  Whether you're with your family, your friends, or with yourself - don't forget the people in your life who mean the most to you, and just for a split second let them know they matter, and how far you'd go to save them. 

38 months ago I didn't think I'd see another Christmas, and because of the people in my life:  My mom and my dad, my sister, Donna, Jeanne and my closest friends, Lauren, Emily, Megan, Heather, Chris, Justin and Beckey... Because of them, and their love for me, I'm about to celebrate the third Christmas since my diagnosis, three Christmases I wasn't supposed to have, three bonus Christmases... whatever you want to call it... Its the third Christmas of what I hope to be a long, long line of Christmases to come.

So wherever you are tonight... Happy Christmas to you, and your family... I love you...

And tonight, Im going to bed with a smile on my face, because someone very special to me, is where he belongs...

Home.

Not alone...

I have this friend, one of the closest.  He's been a brother to me...

He's hurting right now, and I feel like I'm a world away unable to help him, even in words.

He feels alone, like no one will understand.

He is turning against the ones he loves the most, because of a fear of rejection.

He is fragile, weak and easily influenced but still completely loyal to a fault.

He is ripe to be taken advantage of.

He has lost his way and cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, nor see those that care about him most, reaching their hand out to him.

He is making dangerous decisions which could affect his life forever.

He is hurting the people who love him without even realizing it.

He is breaking my heart.

... but through everything he is going through, I can promise him this...

He might not love himself right now, and that's okay because the people in his life that matter most, myself included, have never stopped loving him.   The sadness, the despair and loneliness will fade with time and one day he will again smile with ease.  Physical possessions don't matter, because the love of your family and closest friends makes you the wealthiest person because a true love, one coming from a compassionate heart, the kind of heart I know beats in his chest, is priceless.   We are the ones he can trust, we will hold his hand to give him strength, we will wipe the tears from his eyes, we will help him rediscover himself and we will be there to remind him he always has and always will matter.  He deserves to be happy...

Take the bitterness and anger and set it aside, look at where you are and remember this...

You deserve better...

Eastward HO!

Summer 2011 @ Lake Cumberland

Several months ago, as I wrote on my blog, I had the pleasure of taking, essentially, all my friends to my cabin at Lake Cumberland.   One of those trips involved Lauren, Paul, Beckey, Sarah and Emily.  Emily Shope is one of my dearest and closest friends, one who has been so kind to both me and my family over the years and like my other two best friends, she also went to grade and high school with me.  She has on so many occasions come home to visit her family and of course me, in and out of the hospital for that matter.  She has the distinct privilege of being the only memory I have from being intubated and sedated - a mental snapshot of her standing over me, crying... what a memory right?

The White House

In any event, Emily Shope, or Shope as I'll be calling her, has made countless trips to Ohio since she has relocated her life to Washington D.C. which has been at least 8 years ago.  She and I have talked on the phone, emailed, facebooked, visited in person when she was in town and vacationed regularly together.  We've never lost touch, and she's definitely been one of those people I can really, truly count on.   While she may be a crazy republican, she and I are so very similar in our thoughts, our morals and values and our opinions.  She's a person I could not agree with on a political issue, but have an adult discussion about my opinion and we can agree to disagree but leave gaining a knowledge and appreciation of 'what the other side thinks, and why they think it'. Empty opinions are not something she is capable of having.  

Most importantly, out of all the people I've had the privilege to meet in my life, and have in my life she is one of a very select few who not only do I respect, but I admire. 

Capitol Tour w/ headset 

So with that said, I asked her earlier in the summer if she wanted to come to this lake trip since she had not been down to the cabin in a great long while, to which, as is her way, she impulsively said "of course" .  Within a matter of a day or two she had booked her ticket and made it to Kentucky and we all shared a fantastic long weekend.  When Shope left to go back to D.C. I kept getting this constant feeling of guilt that I just couldn't shake, and Im glad I couldn't.  I felt guilty because here she is, making trip after trip after trip to Ohio to visit her family and friends and I'd never once been to her home in D.C. though I'd been telling her I wanted to come for a long time.  This made me feel like an awful friend, especially given the fact she has made special trips to see me in the hospital even if to just spend a few minutes with me and give me a reassuring hug.  Because of all this - I said to her on a follow up phone call that I knew I had been a bad friend for not visiting, but it was about to change.  I told her to pick the best weekend for her as soon as she wanted and I would be there - regardless.  So, after a  little calendar flipping, she decided that Presidents day would be the weekend I came.  So I went and got the plane ticket and made it happen!

WWII Memorial

My trip to D.C. was so much fun.  It was filled with a lot of walking folks, lets not get that confused for one second, but thats for a little later.  Emily is the consummate tour guide, knowing all the hottest spots.  We toured in no particular order - The American History Museum, National Air and Space Museum (which, btw, doesn't hold a candle to the Dayton museum), WWII memorial, (looked at) Washington Memorial, Library of Congress, National Archive, Jefferson Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, Holocaust Museum, National Arboretum, Pentagon Memorial, MLK Memorial, Arlington National Cemetery, Mt. Vernon, Rosevelt Memorial, The White House, and The Capitol to name a few.  We also visited Dupont Circle, and Eastern Market and other parts of town you don't typically see on a sightseeing tour.  She humored me and we went to Kings Island, and thanks to Megans Platinum Pass, Shope didn't have to pay to get in.  I also got to hear her community band practice which was really nice too since I hadn't seen her play in a long time.  

Pentagon Memorial

With everything we saw, and all the time walking to 99% of the locations, we walked, according to my pedometer, the entire time I was there, 112,697 steps totaling 52.245 miles, and keep in mind most of that walking was done over the course of 4 days.  Holy Moly were my legs hurting by the end of the week!   But it was so worth it!  Washington is beautiful this time of year, it really is, and the weather is just perfect, because there is no way I could handle the scorching heat of summer with my dainty lungs. 

So taking into account everything we did, places, people, things... 

What was the best part of the trip?

...Shope was...

Arlington National Cemetery

She was telling me, the day before I left, that she was starting to get her "end of vacation depression" and I laughed with her and told her to brush it off, that it would fade away soon!  Truthfully though, I didn't want to admit it at the time, but apparently am about to now, I was having a cornucopia of feelings all week, especially at the end, because I knew saying goodbye again was on the horizon.  I admire her, and I respect her and I often question why she doesn't give herself more credit for her success, as I often wish to be as successful as she.  I know she loves D.C., loves her friends, the opportunities D.C. presents and has to offer, she's got a boyfriend whom she cares about immensely - her life is there now... And for purely selfish reasons I hate that she is far away from me.  I hate that I can't pick up the phone and say 'wanna go have a drink', or 'wanna go see a movie tonight'.  I hate that she can't come over and lay out, under 50 layers of sunscreen, at the pool and drink beers all day with me and chit chat about whats going on in life.  I hate that I can't just give her a hug anytime I want.  With that said, I wouldn't trade the relationship we have now for anything, I'm lucky to be able to Facebook her, or email her or even archaically call her.  But that doesn't change the fact that I miss her.  

Mt Vernon

A friend asked me when I got back how the trip was, and I told them how fantastic it was and how wonderful it was to see everything and meet her friends that I'd heard so much about.  This friend said 'that city has so much to do obviously you couldn't see anything, do you regret not seeing something' and I said in response 'my only regret, is that I didn't make this trip happen a long time ago'.  And it is so true, I don't have an explanation as to why I didn't go, but I just didn't and I regret it.  I can tell you that I will be back to visit, sooner rather than later and I know I'll enjoy the next trip just as much as this first trip.   Maybe next time I can go to the Naval Academy and land me a hottie patottie sailor - after all Don't Ask Don't Tell is gone so - "come out, come out wherever you are boys"... I jest. 

What I know for sure is this... I am lucky to have Shope be one of my closest friends and confidants, and because I know her I am a better person. 

So to her I say:  "Thanks for having me and don't ever forget, I love you...

     

Wishes do come true!

So I must preface this entry by saying, I have been a bad blog buddy by not posting my birthday entry sooner, but alas 16 days late is better than never, no?


So here we go...

I celebrated my 28th birthday a few weeks ago on October 1st by going to Cleveland to visit my moms best friend, and someone I consider a second mother, Donna.   The days leading up to my birthday I was excited because I had finally made arrangements to skydive, in Cleveland, though Lauren wasn't too happy with this idea (nor was her mother), I assured her it was totally safe and people barely ever die skydiving!Sadly, the weather would not cooperate and my trip straight down at 120 miles per hour from 12,500 feet was cancelled.  All was not lost, several shopping stops later and I had a nice new fall wardrobe picked out and even better, was able to spend some quality time without distractions with both Donna and Lauren.  


It was hard for me, on this birthday, to not think back to three years ago when I was getting ready to celebrate my 25th birthday.  I never ever could have imagined that year 25 would fundamentally, at the root, change how I lived, what I perceived as value, and what was important to me.   I remember at age 25 knowing something was wrong with me, and being so terrified to find out what 'it' was.  I remember celebrating year 25, and thinking this will be my last birthday.  In all honesty, and in a completely non-morbid way, I never thought I would see the day I was 28 years old. 


How lucky am I?



You might think I'm crazy for thinking that, given everything going on in my life, why would lucky be the word I choose?   Im lucky because in spite of having to put my body through hell, and put my family and closest friends through a suffering I will never come close to comprehending - I have, over the last three years, understood what it means to be grateful, to be appreciative and thankful. More importantly because of those family and friends I now know, without a shadow of doubt what it means to truly love and what it means to be loved.  Because I have that understanding, I no longer have to worry about being alone or forgotten.  I've finally made the realization that I don't necessarily "need" a boyfriend or partner (whatever you want to call it) to cure my fear of being alone. I have learned that physical things are not what is important in life, its the experiences you share with people, how you positively affect them and their lives and overall help someone become a better person by knowing you that will have the lasting impact.   Im lucky because I've been able to spend three years waking up everyday grateful to be alive and be fully aware that life is not an entitlement, its a gift, a gift that can be taken away at a moments notice.  I understand my own mortality, and that understanding allows me to value and more importantly, appreciate "life".  Im lucky because I have an amazing quality of life, and realize there are so many people who have suffered considerably more than I ever will.  Im lucky because I have had three years to strengthen and solidify the relationships that mean the most to me.  

I explained to someone recently who seemed perplexed as to how I can remain so positive given how the odds are seemingly stacked against me.   In so many words I said to this person - You know, the one thing that can ever truly make me 'sad' is thinking about the people who have stood by my side and cried because of me.  Its one thing to hurt yourself but its an entirely different can of worms when you are inadvertently hurting the ones you love most.  I told myself I would live the best life I could until the last breath comes out of me so that when and if the time comes for one of these closest friends or family to reflect back on my life, they will know I was happy and did everything I could to lead the most positive, and active life I could.  Essentially, I would not let their tears be in vain.


Lastly, as with last year, Im lucky to be surrounded by people who care about me.  From my family, my best and closest friends, to my physicians and caregivers all the way to Bruno and has obnoxious tail and huge slobbery tongue...


Three years ago I wished to see my 28th birthday and be able to celebrate, with the people I care about, the person I knew I was destined to become, not a person of great wealth, or celebrity, but simply a good person and that wish came true a few weeks ago...


and for that, I am lucky...

Definitions

What is a friend? 

Do you have one?

Why are they your friend?

Has your friendship ever been put to the test?

Its funny to think about many years ago in high school and even grade school for that matter, how the volume of friends you had determined your popularity.   As someone who did not have, what I would consider, tons of friends I have always valued the ones I've had.  In truth the closest friends, with the exception of one, are friends I have gone to school my entire life with.  There are a few years separating us but only one or two but it is irrelevant, we are great friends. 

I have been so lucky in my friendships, because the bond that is shared is not just that of myself and the friend but all of us, we are all a tight group of friends.   These are the people who I love with my heart and trust to the end of the world.   They have proven themselves to me so many times I cannot count. 

I have, for years, listened to fellow co-workers, students, acquaintances etc.  talk about friendships and how they have either become embattled in a fight with a friend over something, or have decided that their friendship with said person is no longer worthy of their time any longer.  Its a scene that is reflected on so many programs on television I am starting to think I am a member of a dying breed.  A breed of people who has a group of friends and the 'bff' who don't fight. 

I know my friends will always support me.  They will hold my hand when I hurt, they will wipe the tears from my eyes when I cry.   They answer the phone in the middle of the night to listen to me because regardless, what I've called about is important so it is important to them.   They never put themselves first, always the other person.   I can say, without a shadow of doubt, my best and closest friends have never taken advantage of me.  They respect me without question and love me unconditionally.   And all that is reciprocated, which is why our relationships work so well. 

I've never been used by these persons and they certainly have never treated me as though they were superior to me, or that whatever hurdles they were struggling with at the moment were any more important than what I was going through.  And again, our relationship works because these common threads are reciprocated.   There is a love and understanding that we are equal to each other and would never dream of taking advantage of one of the others.  

Life throws us some curveballs at times, and in 2008 I got a big one thrown my way.   Outside of my parents the hurt my friends went through during my hospital stays was something I will never fully understand or appreciate.   I don't particularly like to dwell on what happened during my first visit to The James but I know, deep down in my heart my friends, had they not already, were preparing to say goodbye to me....  I don't know what that feels like, and I hope and I pray I never do, but it is not something I ever would intentionally have wanted them to have to do.  

I had a lot of time to think about that, and let all that hurt from other people sink in and I can tell you I had many restless nights and tear stained pillows just thinking about them.  In fact, the entire time I was sedated, and I've told this to her before so it should come as no surprise, the only thing I remember from that entire experience is a mental image of my friend Emily standing over me crying.  That mental image is something I don't think I'll be able to forget in my lifetime, and I don't think I should either, because that snapshot in time really summarizes the relationship that I have with not only her but all of my closest friends.  When someone you care about is in pain and has an uncertain future, its painful and this clearly was.   We aren't just friends, we are family and we love each other.  

I can never repay them for their kindness, their support and their unconditional love... The only thing I could do was fight as hard as I could to become the person I was before the disease and treatments ravaged my body so that we could go back to being normal, to prove to them I loved them so much I would do whatever it took to be here with them for as long as possible, and I did. 

I challenge you the reader to reflect on your friends and the relationships you have with them.   What would they do for you?  What would you do for them?  Im fortunate enough to know my group is second to none, we would do anything, and I mean anything for one another and thats what makes them family. 

Theres a difference between friendship and a codependency on someone.  A person who puts themselves ahead of you, and their problems ahead of you is not truly your friend.  A person who takes advantage of your kindness and generosity for their own personal gain, not a friend.  A person who treats you not as an equal but as a less than, even if by just a few simple actions - is not a friend.   A person who monopolizes your "you" time for their own agenda, not a friend.   

A person who calls you and the first thing they say to you is 'tell me about your day' ... putting you first, is a friend!

I am not a religious person (though being raised catholic and 12 years of catholic school would seem to dictate otherwise), but I am truly a blessed man to have my friends in my life... 

Based on the experiences I have had in my wonderful life and been so fortunate to share with my friends - here is the definition I use for my closest friends...

... family...

Until next time...

Salida

I wish I could tell you what chemotherapy cycle I will be starting tomorrow, but I seem to have lost count.  Be that as it may, tomorrow is a special treatment for me and it marks the end of part of my journey.  Tomorrow will be the last time I go to Grandview Hospital for chemotherapy and it is bittersweet and in some regards scary at the same time. 

GVH participates in this patient satisfaction surveys which are run by this company Press Ganey.  I never used to pay attention to the survey when it would come in the mail before I got sick because I felt like no one read them, when in reality I knew how the hospital valued the patient feedback from them because my mother was the nurse manager at Southview for 10 years. 

Its no secret the sense of appreciation I have for the people involved directly and indirectly with my care runs, for lack of a better word, deep.  As such, the least I could do was to fill out the Press Ganey and return it to show the hospital management the staff was doing more than required of them.  

As time has progressed though, the Press Ganey's seem so insignificant with the volume of care I have received and I don't mean just physical care either.  I would be remiss to not mention a majority of my caregivers know my mother in some capacity or have gotten to know me from my repeated and lengthy visits.  Regardless of that, the kindness and compassion I have been shown is second to none. 

I can remember the second time I was admitted to GVH for a lengthy period of time, I was bouncing around the 4th floor - MACU, MICU, SICU the whole lot.  Anyway, the first night I was on 4 I remember being in my room and starting to doze off (while watching a rerun of MASH because I'm cool) and I slept for an hour or so and woke up.  Courtesy of all the drugs I was on, I had no idea where I was and I just started crying uncontrollably and writhing around in my bed because I was so scared.   My nurse came in, who I knew previously, but didn't recognize at all and she sat with me and calmed me down all while holding my hand until I caught my breath.   She stayed with me that night while I slept because I woke up several times and she was there to calm me before I 'erupted' again.  

For the next five nights, I was so petrified to go to sleep because I knew I would wake up and be frightened so this nurse and one other with whom she had spoken to, would sit with me for a majority of the night just in case I were to wake up. 

That kind of care doesn't just happen everyday. 

But it is par for the course at Grandview and Southview.  Those two hospitals are full of angels.  The selflessness exuded by the staff goes so far beyond a Press Ganey. 

The nurses who cared for me might not remember me and that is okay, because I remember them - maybe not all by name, but I remember their actions and they won't soon be forgotten.  

I've often said, of Dr. Nanda specifically but also includes the hospital staff, I don't know what the feeling of saving someone's life is like.  I don't know what the feeling of saving that person's life multiple times is like.  But, I do know what it feels like to have been saved in every way you can be and it was and has continued to be a life changing event.  Like the song from Wicked says:

                "...because I knew you, I have been changed for good..."

And it is, without a doubt, the truth.  So tomorrow when I finish my chemotherapy I leave knowing I have received the best care I could have ever received, and without the people inside the building at 405 W. Grand Ave, I wouldn't be here today.   As I transition to the main office at Kettering Hospital, I'll be reunited with Kim, my former chemotherapy nurse who moved to KMC a few months ago - so I know I'll be in good hands.  But just like the first day of grade school, high school or even college - I know I'll have a little apprehension because its foreign.  And even though Kim will be there to greet me as well as Dr. Nanda - It'll be hard for me to replace the great people at GVH with the people at KMC.

So lets fire up that needle one more time!!!

That mean, mean, mean green...

This will be brief... 

I was in the store tonight, and I happened to be following the same route as this woman and her two children.  She was probably 30, and she had what appeared to be a 2-3 year old, and a 7-8 year old.  As we weaved up and down a few aisles I couldn't help but hear her on her cell phone.  I hear her say to the person on the other line "yeah, I just got paid today and I probably don't need all this stuff but I'll deal with my bills later - it's not like they aren't already late!" 

I really couldn't believe what I was hearing. 

Don't fool yourself either, this woman, nor her children were 'trashy' in any way.  They looked like a normal family, nice outfits, hair done and talking on her iPhone no less. 

I looked in her cart and it was just stuffed with everything under the sun - from movies, to name brand foods, toys and outrageous amounts of school supplies. 

It boggled my mind...  I don't know when it became fashionable to not pay your bills so you can go out and buy stuff you don't need.   People who let money burn a hole in their pockets need a big lesson in fiscal responsibility. 

How someone could not pay their bills and then go out and buy a bunch of stuff they don't need is beyond me.  If you absolutely need something, fine - then get it, but if it can wait in the slightest, then it can wait until you've got your feet planted a little more firmly underneath you...  I guess maybe its because Im watching a few friends struggle financially that this really pisses me off.  

I hope that twit gets a hard dose of reality...

And... exhale...

What I learned from my sister...

Without a doubt, there are those reading the headline and thinking -

"He learned something from his sister? Wow!"

But it is true - I have.

I know over the past few entries I have made mention of the 'Things I Know to be True' and this entry will be no different.  My personal experience in life has helped me draw the conclusion that there are those who will not change there ways until something really bad happens to them and forces them, because of no other option, to change the way the have acted or behaved.  Keep in mind I don't mean something to hurt them, but more a radical life changing event.  My sister is one of those people. 

Maybe by the time she discovers this entry and sees it her life will have taken a dramatically different turn for the better.   My sister though, is, at the time of this entry 24 years old - older than the person I am  currently dating I might add by 18 months - and her behavior could be described by some, as that of an early teenager.   To her friends, she is warm and inviting, full of spunk and personality.  A person who is loyal, full of compassion and would overextend herself to help a friend in need.  A striking departure for how her family would describe her.   Selfish, dishonest, conniving, hurtful, hateful, ungrateful and plain mean would be only the simplest words to attribute the behavior.  She is a constant victim, family members walk on eggshells as to not anger her.  When upset, she will immediately raise her voice if not scream at the other party and then leave the location of the dispute and not return home for hours if not a day or two.   She is the consummate victim, wants to be responsible to no one, especially her family/parents.   She is barely a member of our family and as sad as it is to say this - I know my sister very little. 

I have watched for well over a decade and wondered when she would grow out of this 'phase' but that 'phase' has morphed into a lifestyle.  In honesty there have been many times where I have viewed my immediate family as a unit of three people.  

When I first got sick and was an inpatient, and the subsequent times I relapsed and was either an inpatient or at home and unable to care for myself, she became a member of the family again.  But it was only for a fleeting moment it seems because as soon as I regained my health and/or strength she stepped out of my life and my family's lives again.   The summation of these few paragraphs would be:  The relationship between myself, my mother and father and that of my sister is strained to the point of near break.  

One of the luxuries of being sick is that it gives you a very unique outlook on life, it makes you respect every week, every day, every hour - every moment you have, because in truth, this moment could be my last.  It isn't a morbid statement at all, its a fact of life for everyone, and to me it was liberating and moreover, life changing.   I started to look at things with a new set of eyes, examine how I treated people and how I acted and was able to make a conscious choice to better myself.  I wasn't ever a complete and total dick to anyone, but I think it would be fair to say I had been selfish, opinionated and sometimes manipulative to try to get myself further in work, at school, in personal situations.  

What motivated this choice to change?

The long and short of it is - the very first night I was ever in the hospital, December 2, 2008 - my doctors told my mother I probably wouldn't make it through the night.   I had no idea this conversation had happened, and to be honest, had I known, I probably wouldn't have understood it fully anyway.   I didn't even arrive at Southview until probably 4:30 and I had only had my diagnosis a few hours before I was in the ICU.  I was scared, I was angry and I was embarrassed that I had let myself deteriorate while lying to myself and my family and closest friends.  The room I was in couldn't contain all the emotions I was feeling and the thoughts I was having.   I so desperately wanted to be alone that first night, alone with my thoughts, alone with my tears and alone with the unknown.  That wasn't quite what materialized for me though, my mom stayed with me the whole night sitting in a chair beside me, dozing off just occasionally.  Not knowing that she had been told the reality of my prognosis, I asked her to leave several times and after she told me she wasn't leaving, I opened up what I like to refer to as my expanded vocabulary selections and let it fly.  She was on the receiving end of some truly mean and hateful statements but - she stayed by my side.  I can honestly remember waking up in the middle of the night and remember glancing over at her, nodded off in the chair with the dried tears still marking her face, and still holding my hand.  She didn't let go until the next morning. 

It wasn't until several weeks later when everything came to light and she shared with me that Dr. Reid had told her he didn't think my lungs would support me through the night that it all made sense to me and when it did, it was a radical life changing event. 

My mother was staying with her son so he wouldn't die alone. 

It was a powerful message for me to digest and the lesson learned was a great one.  I quickly realized the severity of my situation and realized how fragile and what a gift my life and life in general is.  More importantly, I looked back over the first two weeks I spent in the hospital and l started to remember the instances where I was so overwhelmed that I became angry for no reason like the first night with my mom, or when I had the gaul to yell at Lauren for bringing me soup while I was at Grandview.  I realized that the pain I was in was a pittance compared to the people who were watching.  They too were hurt by my illness and now I was also hurting them and that wasn't fair.  Then the biggest realization of all occurred and the primary reason why I changed...

What if this moment were my very last moment and these were the very last words I ever spoke to someone?

Not only would I never have the opportunity to take back the mean words, but the people who I left behind would be left knowing the last conversation we ever had was one where I was angry, or yelling at them.  I don't know what exactly that would feel like, but I know I want the people I love to have only happy memories of me smiling or telling a filthy joke.  I couldn't knowingly do that to the people who cared about me so much, the people who stayed strong for me because I couldn't stay strong for myself.  In that 'ah ha moment' I realized there wasn't any reason to be angry or say hurtful and hateful things.  To live happily and gratefully could be one of the best gifts I could ever give myself and to those I love. 

So what does this have to do with my sister and what she has taught me. 

She taught me I made the right choice in choosing to live my best life.   I love my sister, and I write this entry not because I am mad at her, or because I think she is a bad person but because I know she is capable of change and will change.  There will be a day, and I know it is in the not to distant future where she will realize she has been unfair to the people who have loved and continue to love her the most.  She will see the err of her ways and she will be embarrassed by them but she will be at a new place in life where the mistakes of the past will not repeat themselves.  

Being strong enough to look past the sad...

Do you ever stop and think about what an amazing journey life is?

Stop to think about all the amazing, and courageous people you meet along the way?

Ever stop to reflect on how a person truly shaped your view on the world?

Who helped you become you?

I've had a lot of time these past three years to think about all the people in my life who have directly and indirectly affected me and shaped me into the person I am today.  I wish I could take all the credit for knowing how to make a totally awesome person, but if I did - I would have copyrighted that bad boy and wrote the manual.   Its safe to say though, there are so many people who do huge things, small things and nothing at all that shape who "we" are. 

I've had to dig pretty deep at times over the past three years to keep myself together at times and it isn't easy fighting back tears and anger.  You can't appreciate how insurmountable odds stacked against you can motivate you to not even want to get out of bed in the morning until you've been told things like "you probably won't make it" - "we only have two options left, and one of those is comfort care" - "it wouldn't be fair to him to repeat this procedure should it fail"  and of course the worst of all, as I like to call it "the countdown"... (like im a space shuttle or something?)

I don't know many people personally fighting cancer, as a matter of fact - for all the time I've spent at The James,  I didn't meet any surprisingly... but I do know one and one was enough for me to have a life changing - or as Oprah would call it "AH HA" moment.  It wasn't cancer that brought us together either, it was a mutual appreciation and love for performing arts.  The person I'm talking about was one of my high school band directors who I subsequently found out shortly after I left, was diagnosed with a, let us say ruthless, sarcoma. 

It wasn't until after I was diagnosed that I reached out to her to talk - mainly because I was scared, and I felt like I was going through this journey alone with no one who could really relate.   Watching my body waste away, my veins shrivel up, my appetite gone and my hair fall out made me feel so isolated I might as well have been on the moon.   You can only hear "it's going to be okay" from those who love you so much, before it just becomes words... 

Enter Stephanie... 

The conversations we've had and the nights I've spent reading her blog entries put my own situation into perspective... 

I could boil everything down into one simple word that you'll read right over but thats too simple - "pain" is cheating her journey. The surgeries, procedures, biopsies, chemotherapy, radiation and nausea alone with the massive emotional strain on her family/personal life, plus the financial sacrifices she, her husband and family have made, etc... is on a scale (you) I simply couldn't begin to comprehend...  - and yet here I am sitting across from this woman who I equate to as The strongest person I have ever known (capital letter used correctly) and seeing her smile and just being grateful to be here in the moment with me was life changing. 

I knew, from that moment on,  I had only one mission on this journey - the same as hers... 

To do what needed to be done, and use whatever means necessary to get to the finish line. 

There are no excuses, no pity parties, no 'why me's', no simpathy - only fight.  (while wearing a smile all the while)

I write this tonight, at 1:40am because I know, in a different time zone from and state from me, Stephanie s strength is being tested, maybe more than ever before.   She probably doesn't even know she single-handedly showed me I can and will be strong,  I can and will fight like hell and of course never - ever give up. 

... and now it is my turn to return the favor. 

What I can't stand more than bad things happening to good people, are bad things happening to amazing people.   Stephanie is an amazing person and I am so lucky to know her.  I hope she knows I always think of her and even though I'm not an overtly religious person, I am praying for her and sending her all the love I can.

She is my hero.

They last a lifetime...

I love summer without a doubt... It has become my favorite season - and not for just my geriatric reasons like being able to breathe normally.  I love being outside all the time, I love the pool, my amusement parks are open,  and of course... trips to the lake!

Lake Cumberland is like my little slice of heaven.  The cabin is nestled away from the worries of everyday life and its almost as though time just stands still when you are there.  The running joke from everyone that lives and vacations there is "What time is it?"  ... "Uh... lake time?!".   You really have no where to be at no specific time.  This is the first year we purchased a slip for our boat at the big fancy shmancy marina, Wolf Creek Marina (WCM)... and it has made the lake even more awesome for me because now I can go down to the cabin and the boat is just sitting there waiting for me.  I love going there, but what I love even more is sharing the opportunity with my closest friends... 

Case in point... 

One of my closest friends, Emily, lives in Washington D.C. and as such we don't see each other as often as we'd like anymore.  She and I have grown up together, though two years older than I, we both went to the same grade school and high school and we really got close during band and guard.   She is a lot like me in some aspects and there are some aspects I wish I was more like her.   She has been a constant in my life since I've been sick, and I have been very lucky to be able to continue to call her my friend.   

In any event - about 5 or 6 years ago, Emily, Lauren, my friend Heather and I all carted off to the lake for a great weekend together... and that was the last time Emily had gone as she moved to D.C. shortly after she returned home.   I really wondered if she would ever be able to make another trip to the lake as she doesn't live in the mid-west anymore and to do so would require her to make a special trip out of it.  So I added this reunion idea to my 'bucket list' when I got sick and didn't really push it.   Through some kind of miracle, and that miracle being Emily's spontaneous attitude, she decided to fly home and come to the lake with me... A few phone calls later and I had a the reunion group scheduled to all meet in Jabez KY on the 22nd of July.  I was beyond excited. 

Its a very rare occasion when I can get my closest friends together because they have all started their lives and careers and for most of them, that means leaving Dayton.  I'm not trying to have a sob story or a pity party, its just a fact of life, and I know had I not gotten sick, I would have done the same.   But to have everyone here for these few days meant the world.  

To make a long story short - it was my favorite trip to the lake in 4 or 5 years and as an aside, made the most wonderful memories.   It was one of those vacations that was over in a hot second.  I do not like to live in the past and generally when I look at old photos or think about times gone by, I get a little choked up thinking about what once was and knowing I won't have that again.  But it is one of those "choked ups" that only lasts for a second because I realize how fortunate I am to have those memories and know that the people I shared the experience with also has those memories.  

So while vacation was over way too quickly, I realized I have a whole boat load full of new memories and experiences that not only I can look back on, but so can my friends. 

And... the truth is.... 

I miss my friends... a lot...

I would be remiss to say there aren't times when I feel very much alone in Dayton and rightfully so, virtually all my friends have moved away to start their family and/or careers.  It sounds selfish to say I want them to come home but its true.  Of course the reason I feel this way is because I know life happens, and people grow apart.   Im not naive enough to think we can all live in our high school days, but sometimes it's almost like thats what I want.  But the bigger fear, as ridiculous as this sounds, is the fear of being forgotten.  I know my friends very very well.  Im actually very lucky because I don't have a best friend and then friends, I have my best friends and fortunately for me I know they would never just forget about me but there are times when I will remember talking to them every day, or going out for drinks every weekend etc. and then compare it to today when I hear from some of them once a week, once every 2 weeks, once a month.   Then the whole forgotten thing takes a more narcissistic turn with the biggest fear - and that being the fear of being forgotten when Im gone.  

I would certainly hope my friends never forget about me once I am gone, because I think about them so very often and realize what kind of an impact they have had on my life, and the support they have given me and how my gratitude could never fully be displayed to them.    I used to get a little sad when I would think about this every so often and then I realized even after I'm gone, the memories that we have shared together will live on in my friends and family too of course.  But that is just like a little piece of me staying alive in them.  Knowing that, makes me feel better firstly, but secondly makes me want to create as many memories as possible with them so they have a library full of fantastic memories to share with whomever, be it their spouse, boyfriend/girlfriend, child, friend etc...

This might sound strange but the point of this blog entry is because of a dream I had long ago.  It was around the time I started worrying about being forgotten and how I wanted to be remembered.  It was right after I was diagnosed and had decided rather than throw pity parties for my self, I instead was going to make a concerted effort to live a better life, be grateful for everything and everyone I have in my life and see the good in people that I this dream... In the dream I've obviously been gone for a while and this child enters Laurens bedroom as she is laying in bed and the child says to Lauren "mommy who is this in all these pictures with you"... and Lauren sits up and pulls the child up onto her lap and grabs this photo of she and I and says "This was my best friend and he lived an amazing life and not only was I apart of it, I can tell you all the stories of our adventures" ... (or something to that effect)

I love making the memories with my friends... They are priceless to me and I know the feeling goes both ways and any opportunity I have to spend time with them is a blessing and I don't waste it.  Memories can't be lost, can't be stolen and can't break - they are the owners for life and can be accessed anytime!  I'm so lucky to have the friends I do because even though we are miles apart, and we don't see each other everyday I know I still matter to them, and I know if I miss them I can meet them in my memories and share a laugh and I know they can do the same with me forever...

To my friends...

I love you... always!

Saying goodbye with a hello again...

Sometimes people think it's odd that I can say how fortunate I am, or how blessed I am given my condition but if you've read any of my previous blogs you could probably gather that I have way too much to be grateful for than to sit and dwell on the negativity...

With that, it's no secret I consider my caregivers to be my life savers and there are certain ones who I wholeheartedly equate, without a shadow of doubt, singlehandedly saving my life.   Obviously, Dr. Nanda is first and foremost, but behind the scenes is someone else who I've probably not mentioned as much, but has been more of a constant in my treatment than even Dr. Nanda.  Her name is Kim... Kim the chemo nurse.  I joked with Kim a few months ago by saying "You know Kim, its been two and a half years since we started dating" - and she laughed with surprise in her voice not realizing that she and I had been fighting for me in excess of 28 months.

I remember the first time I met Kim... It was at Grandview, when I had only been diagnosed for about two days.  I knew at some point there would be a person coming in to administer this drug.  I didn't know what it looked like, I didn't know what it felt like and I didn't know what was going to happen to me.  The only thing I knew was how scared I was inside and felt like I couldn't tell anyone because I had put my family and the few friends who knew what was going on, through enough.  This was one of those times when I kept up my happy facade for the sake of everyone else I suppose.

It was dark, probably around 5:30pm on a bitterly cold December evening when I heard the knock at the door accompanied by a faint voice in the distance asking "Ryan?"  Kim came in the door with the bag of chemotherapy already drawn up, but I didn't notice it because she had this warm, inviting smile across her face which, for whatever reason, put me at ease.  She didn't just hook up the medicine and let me sit there to ponder what was happening, no.  No, so she pulled a chair up and asked if I had ever had chemo before and after I responded that I hadn't and that I was honestly rather scared, she told me how the process worked.  First with the premeds, then the delivery of the actual chemotherapy and then what potential side effects could happen within the following days.

We sat and talked for a while, and I felt myself getting tired from the premeds and I said to her "I feel tired, you don't have to stay with me - when the infusion completes and the alarm goes off I can call my nurse" and then I dozed off...

I woke up when the alarm was sounding and Kim was standing there unhooking everything, and she patted me on the shoulder and said "I decided to stay and keep you company... You did well, and everything is going to be okay"

She finished up gathering her things and wished me pleasant dreams before leaving that first night.  That first night was the first of many times I've seen Kim.  I've relied on Kim a lot over the past 28 months.  She has helped me with appointments and filling prescriptions as well as administering my chemotherapy but she also helped me remember that I was still me, I was still a person with feelings and that I mattered.  She visited me when I was an inpatient at Grandview - just because she wanted to.   There is only one other person who has visited me when they weren't on their rounds, and that was Dr. Nanda.

The two of them, Dr. Nanda and Kim are my heroes.  I don't know what my life would be like today without them but sadly Kim left Grandview this past week to take another position at the main Oncology office at Kettering and in a matter of weeks, when Dr. Nanda finishes her fellowship - she will follow Kim out of Grandview.  Luckily for me, though I said goodbye to Kim this week, Dr. Nanda has fought and fought to get me into the Kettering office because she cares about me so much.  So the goodbye to Kim will be short lived.

I guess it is true what they say about first impressions, you only get one.  Kim didn't waste her's and it has stayed with me ever since.  I don't know if she remembers what happened that first night, or if it was just her being herself but either way, I noticed and it mattered.  So Kim,  thank you - and I won't say goodbye, I'll just say...

... Until we meet again

Lifes been good!

So this will probably be a more brief entry as its getting kind of late.

I think I might boil this down into just a few bullet points to save time...

- I am so glad I didn't sacrifice myself, who i was at the core, for the guy i was dating.  Who turned out to be, oddly enough, the person he professed he hated the most - A lying, backstabbing, manipulative user who was only interested in the superficial.  Ridding my life of that not only freed up my checkbook but it proved I have the emotional wherewithal to stand firm in my beliefs and not just let them go at the drop of a hat

- I apologized to the guy I was dating before Greg - Andrew, for the terrible mistake I made in breaking up with him.  Do I know if we are perfect for each other?  No - but I do know we never fought and I only have memories that contain smiles.  To me, the smiles are what life is about and if you don't cause me to smile or vice versa - our time together will be very limited.   The moral though with Andrew was, I should have never broken it off the way I did - my judgement was clouded from some guy who was showing me someone who he really wasn't and I made a severe lapse in judgement, and I listened to someone else rather than listening to myself.  Not a day went by that I didn't feel bad for what I did... the fact he forgave me was like a huge weight lifting off my shoulders.

- By getting the 'bad' out of my life, and more so the want of having the 'bad' out of my life for so long, has made having it gone even more rewarding.  Im so happy... I feel so calm and back at peace.  I never lost sight of what was important to me, who truly cared and what i had to be grateful for... but it was hard when the 'bad' in my life was trying to change me, tell me who 'i was' was essentially unacceptable.

I watched an old Oprah show for some reason today, and only caught about 5 minutes of it - but in it she said... "Love means never having to say 'sorry'". It must have been a sign that I catch that blurb because I had an 'aha' moment that just instantly made me feel better.  The 'bad' in my life made me say I was sorry (even though i might have not meant it teehee) and he said he was sorry all the time for the things he said... So he didn't care for me, didnt like me and certainly didn't love me.   I didnt need 'bad' in my life, and I was glad to see him go - but knowing he didnt love me for some reason just made me feel good.

He loved my checkbook, my debit card, my credit card, my open schedule and most of all my car.   Hes a gifted story teller, and happens to have a busy calendar - though your schedule doesnt mean much ...

It was for too long about the give and take... I kept giving - financially, emotionally mentally... and he took... and took... and took some more.

With everything I have been through in the past almost 3 years now... I can say this - for sure...

The 'bad' in my life put my through more mental anguish, and torment... made me jump through hoops galore, mentally harassed me and mentally abused me - more so than anything I've dealt with regarding my illness.

And thats saying something

Be that as it may - theres no need to dwell on the past and the negative. He has growing up to do, maturing to figure out... and the truth is - he'll probably abuse more people like he abused me and the ones before me - before realizing... you can't continue to live like this.  The constant victim mentality is not attractive, the overwhelming sense of drama that encompasses your life is not to be praised - its to be discarded and moved on from.

But for today... I am happy

I always am ;-)