Yesterday I started my second round of chemo at Texas Oncology. It’s an amazing place! Before I walked into the infusion room, I asked God to give me the strength to overcome the “bags of he’ll” that is the medicine. Since being diagnosed I’ve read so much about our own, small, daily choices. I put that to the test and chose to walk in happy. Yes, happy. Remember this blog is an experiment after all!

I sat in my recliner and had all my books and the newspaper. I looked around and introduced myself to my neighbors that were older women going through chemo, as well. We chatted and then they explained they had errands to run along with shopping. Classic! I realized these women were making choices just like me. Choices that make them stronger than a disease, divorce, economic fears, whatever.. When they left I felt inspired. I felt strong. Then something happened that made me feel humbled and grateful beyond words. A wife brought in her husband in a wheel chair with a nurse. They looked to be in their 50’s. They had to lift into the recliner b/c it seemed he was almost paralyzed. I once again silently whispered to myself, “My God”. My heart broke for him. You are then reminded of the monster cancer and it can happen to anyone….anyone.

I’m reading “The Power of Positive Thinking” which is a very old book but amazing! It describes how faith and the power of choice can transform your life but also others around you. So, if I get scared or want to cry, I stop, talk to God and choose to believe that the good things I focus on WILL materialize in a blessed manner. So far, it’s working but in small ways. When anyone asks me how I feel I choose to say, “Great! Feeling strong. It’s all good”. People just kind of look at me with a blank stare. I love it. When I left the unit they brought my pack and I tried to wrap it around my waist b/c I thought it was a fanny pack. Oh, the fanny pack! The nurse laughed and explained it goes over my shoulder. “Like a man purse”! She just kept laughing. Fanny pack to man purse. Too bad I’m not doing chemo in Europe! Choices…all about choices.

You cannot always do something to help your friends, but you can always be something to help them if your own lamp of faith and love shines clear.

Sitting at Love Field waiting on a flight back to Austin and it’s a tough wait. I came to see, my future wife, Becca Fortner and it was so nice. Some challenges but all laughs, smiles and slow hugs. That’s how are love is, unconditional and beautiful. She is my rock and my soul mate. I start 2nd round of chemo tomorrow and had to see her before it started again. I had to get some strength from her. I saw some great friends and went out but in the back of my mind, Monday and starting chemo was lurking in my mind.

Cancer is a battle of wills. You can give in to fear and sadness or somehow just pray to overcome it. When Bec dropped me off I felt both our hearts break. But that’s ok b/c this is temporary and I focus on our life after this. So, as I sit in Love Field, trying not to show tears, the only thing I can do is pray and just believe.

For those of you that know me, I’m no introvert and that is an understatement. I love to talk and to laugh. I’ve been that way since I can remember. I was always one of the “class clown posse” in school and IT WAS FUN! As I got older, I loved to hear stories of all kinds and in college, I believe I became an expert storyteller. At least, to me I was. Talk, talk, talk, laugh, laugh…good times. But something funny happened when I got cancer. I lost half of my voice. Not really what I was expecting nor wanting but then again there is not ONE thing good that comes from cancer, physically speaking. See, the mass in my neck and throat was putting pressure on both my vocal chords and finally paralyzing one chord completely. It takes more energy to talk and it’s in a raspy whisper but it doesn’t hurt, it just harder to talk. Especially, on the phone trying to get workman out to the house. “Sir, could you speak up. I can barely hear you”. I close my eyes and remain calm. What am I going to do, yell at them? Classic.

But in all of this, I’ve learned that it truly is better to be the one that listens and observe. Don’t get me wrong but I still like to tell stories and my voice will get back to normal in a few weeks. Maybe all of us should take a day where we make a concerted effort to talk less and listen more. It truly is empowering! You become more patient and that’s also empowering.

Sometimes there are times for no words..just silence. When I was in the oncologist office, after days of tests, he said that the cancer hadn’t spread which was huge. The oncologist left for a second and his assistant said, “You’re quite lucky. If it had spread it would be incurable”. Not a word was said. Just a silent prayer saying “Thank you”.

This is a beautiful Sunday in Austin. It really is. Not one thing has gone wrong today but sometimes it seems I have to work harder at remembering the good things and blessings I have on a Sunday. (Kind of ironic to me.) Maybe I feel tired from the week and all the heaviness and drama that comes with fighting cancer. Maybe I’m a bit sad I can’t go run around town lake b/c I have to stay out of the sun. Maybe I’m just tempted to complain but I can’t. I won’t. I can’t and still sleep tonight b/c I remember who I saw at MD Anderson. I saw children who are so sick and haven’t done one thing wrong. I remember the look of fear and sadness on the parent’s faces as they comforted their children. I could see how much a mother wish she had been the one who had gotten sick, not her little boy with a mask over his mouth and nose to keep out germs. I remember the faces 4 of the elderly couples who were taking care of a sick spouse after decades of marriage. I remember an elderly man barely pushing his elderly wife in a wheel chair. He just wasn’t strong anymore but had to be. At least, that day. Finally, I remember something that was branded into my mind forever. I came out of a test at 7pm, headed back to the hotel room and I passed a man in a wheel chair, asleep, wrapped in blankets, hooked up to an IV … and alone in an empty hallway. I passed him and uttered, “My God”. I felt guilty for just walking past him. Thinking about him now moves me to tears.

So, on this Sunday, I won’t complain about not running outside, losing my hair, getting tired or whatever. I’ll get better but so many won’t. I’ll count ALL my blessings. I’ll thank God for my friends, family, the love of my life, Becca, who didn’t run when I got sick but is my rock and always tells me,”We aren’t through dancing”. How beautiful is that? I’ll thank God for so many prayers being said for me and amazing love and support being sent my way.

I’ll remember that plenty of people would trade places with me on this Sunday.

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning in Austin, Texas. Had a great dinner with amazing friends, Adam and Katie Love, last night. The kind of dinner where you just cook, eat, drink. (Well, I can’t while on chemo. Man, I miss my ritas!!. They surely have to have SOME medicinal purposes!) The dinner was so nice and easy. Lots of laughter which does heal. Come home, go to bed. I wake up look in the mirror and see no hair and utter, “Dude, this is not your best look”. Oh well… I do my old man routine where I drink my coffee, read the paper and turn on ESPN. Gotta love the little things!

I start my day and like a hammer these questions interrupts my simple morning.

IF YOUR LIFE ENDED TODAY, WHAT DID YOU DO? WHO DID YOU HELP? DID YOU TRY EVERY DAY TO HAVE A CHRIST LIKE SPIRIT OF LOVE, FORGIVENESS & FAITH. DID YOU JUST BELIEVE?

Man, I just want my coffee!! The answer to those questions scared me a bit b/c I’ve fallen so short, so many times. But then I remembered God knows this. Where I am in life and it’s no surprise to him. I don’t believe he accidentally gave me cancer b/c he was not paying attention. I believe he gave me this day to do a better at being my best than I did yesterday. I think that’s how it works. You wake up, show up, try and just believe.

Now, I need to tell the people I love, that I love them b/c life happens. That’s what I’m learning…

MD Anderson is a big, massive machine. It’s insane. A great place to diagnosed not the best place to heal. Now, that I’m back home, in Austin, I met my new oncologist that will handle the next two rounds of chemo treatments. Great doctor and very old 3 school. He said, “Well, you don’t look sick, you don’t act sick and the mass has gone done by more than half in two weeks. Are you still running & working out every day”? I smiled and said, “Yes sir! Does that mean we can slow this chemo stuff down”. Then he just said, “Nope”. I quit smiling.

The chemo that I receive starts with an 8hr infusion, like an iv, that goes into a small tube stitched in my arm. After that I where a fanny pack for 5 days with the chemo liquid and that pumps into my system then I’m done for 3 weeks. (For those of you that know me…I’m so not a fanny pack guy!) At MD Anderson, they stuck me in a bed, left me alone and I always felt like a number which you are. They don’t ask for your name just patient number. So, after talking to the doctor he showed me the infusion room and along the way introduced me to nurses and staff. It was really, really nice to hear names not numbers. When I walked into the room I saw what I call “bags of hell” the chemo bags. I just wanted to say NO!!!! I ran an 8 minute mile two days ago and I can run a 5 minute mile out of here! Then it hit……peace. I looked around at everyone that was sick and didn’t feel fear but compassion. Maybe this room is where I can be an example. Maybe this room is where I become bigger than the “bags of hell”. Maybe this is where I can make someone next to me smile by telling them I hear they have a great happy hour. Maybe this is where I help someone else through God’s spirit. This is where I grow… for more than 8 hours.

Being humbled…

Having a great day right up to the point where I scratched my head and hair came out. That sick feeling we all get in our stomach hit like a freight train. I came home and shaved my head and tried to hold back the tears. They came nonstop in the shower. Now, I have a choice. I choose to pray:

Dear God,
“I don’t know why this is happening but give me your spirit and strength. Please help me to help someone else. Please. Thank you for this day, my family, my friends, Becca and amazing love and so much support I keep receiving. Thank you for not leaving”.

I keep asking myself what exactly is a “bad” day? I decided that today didn’t have to be one.

Sometimes I think b/c I have cancer that I should get a “pass” on all days sad, upsetting or discouraging for a little while. I think I could make a case that I’ve reached my quota. At these times, I want to say “ENOUGH”! Just for today, ENOUGH! Then with amazing force I am reminded that life doesn’t stop or slow down for me. It just keeps happening. I can get upset, rationalize and justify whatever I want but in the end, God gave me this day and that truly is a gift. How I choose to begin and end it is also a choice. Maybe the best thing to do is tell God, “thank you” and give this day and all its trials and drama to him and show up again tomorrow.

I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course. I have kept the faith.
– 2Timothy 4-7

Maybe our job isn’t to ask why or figure out God’s next move. Maybe our job is to wake up and ask God how to keep the faith. Some days it’s so easy and then there are the days that it seems impossible. Those are the days we let go and find freedom. A blessed freedom.