Blogging as a dying man to dying men...

There's a story about a man fishing with his son. They both wrote about the day in their journals. The father wrote down all the difficulties of the day including not catching anything. He summed up his comments with "a totally wasted day." His son later wrote of the day and the time with his father as one of the happiest days of his life. Whatever tasks the father hoped to accomplish that day, they eluded him. It's clear the son was oriented to something more grand: time with dad, and he clearly succeeded. I had a moment this week where I was re-taught that lesson. One of the effects of chemo is difficulties with short-term memory. A good way to combat the challenge is exercising the

There's a scene from the movie The Patriot* that has been coming to my mind repeatedly. It's the scene right after his eldest son has been taken prisoner, his house burnt and one of his other sons is killed. I don't recommend watching the whole scene if you don't like violence, but the part that has been on my mind is his interaction with his two younger sons before the ambush. Here is the link, and you can stop after he talks to his sons to avoid any violence: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYl58yK4znE There is one word at the end of this scene that keeps coming to mind. At the end of his instructions, the dad says one word in a stern, confident voice: "Steady." It's very clear in the

My neutrophils have been taking a beating. [Caption: what chemo has done to my neotrophils... they need a break.] Yesterday, I didn't know what they were, but I've learned they are important for fighting infection. Before the scheduled treatment #5 yesterday, they took my blood, and while my white blood cells and other measurements were OK for treatment, the neutrophils were AWOL. Well, not really AWOL, but weren't a quorum. While their show rate was still better than members of Congress' committee meeting attendance, it wasn't enough. Unfortunately, we had to call off the chemo bombing run. So, my doc decided it was time for a break to recharge the immunos. I'm sure you're wondering:

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me…” First song I wanted to learn when I was a new believer. So much so, I wanted to learn the unsophisticated monkey instrument, (guitar) to be able to play and sing its tune. I wanted to sing to and for God! I’d only ever wanted to sing for my benefit before. Those first days of new life can’t be described effectively. They’re so beautiful because of the sheer, fresh juxtaposition of moving from being God’s enemy to being His child. An epic burden is lifted, the very air feels fresher and your heart contains a new and blessed tenderness. I remember being so excited that the awkwardness of my enthusiasm of new life wasn’t e

Truth: We don't want to know the future. Why: God knows we couldn't handle it... neither in a holy way nor would it satisfy our real need. One of the coulda shoulda thoughts I have most is: "what if they could have caught my cancer sooner?" Unfortunately, that's not an easy question. More recently, we have learned, and haven't shared much, that the type of cancer I have is not only rare and aggressive and the type that a well-known celebrity had, (but in a different area of the body, and it didn't end well), but I could have had this cancer for 10-15 years. What makes it quite a coulda shoulda is this cancer is often misdiagnosed as something else. Therefore, for my cancer to have been