Tag Archives: aging

Cuatro en La Mañana Pensamientos Profundos

Mi alma gemela está fuera para una mini-excursión para limpiar su hermosa mente de su madre y yo luchando contra el cáncer en etapa 4 tardía.

Es desgarrador verla sufriendo mi dolor.

Antes de que ella incluso saliera de Toronto, tuve ese nudo retorcido de soledad que agarró mis testículos.

Sé muy bien que pronto estará en casa, pero “el corazón es un cazador solitario”.

Lo mío está en una nube solitaria de Apreciación y Amor.

PORQUE ME AMO Y APRECIO A MÁS ALLÁ DE CUALQUIER PALABRA QUE AUTOR AQUÍ.

Ella sabe el peso de mi Devoción y cada onza singular de amor verdadero que llevo por ella.

No hay duda si eso. Esperaré su regreso con el corazón bien abierto y los brazos levantados en Alabado sea Dios.

Porque el Señor Salvador me bendijo con el privilegio de amarla.

Y lo hago La amo inmensamente y 100% veraz.

…………………………………………………………….

My soul mate is away for a mini-excursion to clear her beautiful mind from her Mother and I both battling late stage 4 cancer.

It is heartbreaking to see her suffering my pain.

Before she even flew out of Toronto I had that twisted knot of loneliness grab my testicles.

I know darn well that she will soon be home, but the “heart is a lonely hunter”.

Mine lays in a solitary cloud of Appreciation and Love.

FOR I DO LOVE AND APPRECIATE HER BEYOND ANY WORDS I AUTHOR HERE.

She knows the weight of my Devotion and each singular ounce of true love I carry for her.

There is no doubt if that. I will await her return with my heart wide open and my arms raised in Praise God. For the Lord Savior Blessed me with the privilege of loving her.

And I do. I love her immensely and 100% truthfulness.

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The Fear of Cancer

Not often I have ‘fear‘.

I have it now. I fear that I may not beat this cancer.

I was diagnosed on October 22nd, 2018, with Pharyngeal and Squamous Cell Carcinoma. Stage four.

I was past the ability to be treated via chemotherapy and conventional radiation. My only three options were let nature take her course or surgery to remove my complete tongue and lymph nodes (leaving me with zero quality of life) or receive radical aggressive radiation.

I chose the latter. Receiving a double session twice per day for twenty days. The actual treatment was easy. Just lay down, strapped in a cage and a mere fifteen minutes listening to Pink Floyd as the machine’s robotic arms did their task.

I was pleased when on March the first I completed the therapy and was told it had succeeded in killing all the tumors.

What I didn’t understand at that time was the worse part comes after the therapy. As the tumors diminished the damage from the radiation and cancer surfaces. This, apparently, can go on for up to two years.

My throat swelled and on the exterior turned purple. A side affect of the radiation burn and dying tissues within.

I had a few complications during the course of treatment. I developed a huge abscess in my lower abdominal cavity, possibly from the feeding g-tube implant. It required minor surgery to remove and drain. This was followed by a major battle with septicemia. A battle I thankfully won.

I was released from the Princess Margaret Cancer Center on January 31, 2019. After being hospitalized for twenty seven days. I was glad to be home.

At four in the morning of February the 2nd my spleen exploded. I bled out and have only survived because I live blocks from the Michael Garron Hospital. I was revived. Received four pints of blood, rapid infusion of Ringers lactate, a litre of iron sucrose and twenty nine staples on my abdomen. Complete removal of my spleen.

I spent all of February and half of March in Princess Margaret. My weight dropped down to ninety seven pounds. A far cry from my average one hundred and seventy.

I look like a survivor from a Nazi Death Camp.

I was sent home mid March to complete my treatment as an out-patient.

Things were well at first. I could not swallow most food so I was dependant on six cans of condensed Isosource nutrients to feed my body. I managed to get my weight up to one hundred and twenty-two pounds.

But, a big but, the damage from the tumors and radiation was surfacing more and more. The pain of swallowing increasingly getting worse. To the point I feared swallowing even my saliva.

This I am still plagued with as I write.

My weight loss increased and depression tried to take over my logic. I feared that I would definitely die. I have that fear still, as do my caregivers.

No longer able to function properly I resigned myself to the reality of coming back into the hospital.

Presently, I am hospitalized in the magnificent Toronto General Hospital. A Blessing of living in Toronto with the world class treatment of Toronto General and the adjoined Princess Margaret Cancer Center. Two of the best hospitals worldwide.

If I lived anywhere else I am positive I would not be authoring this blog on this foggy Sunday morning.

I am not sure what is to happen to me next. Neither are my team of doctors.

I have been here a mere few days, having been admitted on the twenty four of May. So, I am awaiting the results of my MRI, CT Scan and numerous other tests.

Tomorrow I have to have minor surgery to re-implant a gastric feeding tube and biopsy of my tongue and throat.

So far my diagnosis is as follows:

1) as my body absorbed the dead tumors it left behind holes, like potholes in a road. These ‘holes‘ have developed ulcers.

2) The ulcers can be one of three types. (A) non-cancerous, (B) Cancerous but treatable and (C) Cancerous non-treatable

3) I am severely malnourished and dehydrated.

Hopefully, by tomorrow evening I will know for sure what battle lays before me.

I am a ‘realist’. Hence, I take things in stride. It is what it is and I will deal with whatever falls my way with logic over emotions.

I also trained myself to always expect the worse possible scenarios. Reason being if I am expecting the worse no matter what my diagnosis is to be it shall be better than what I expected. A small comfort in such a serious situation.

I am not being unrealistic in my expectations. I am in a serious situation.

After many discussions with all my treatment team and my beloved family, I made the difficult decision to put in place a DNR, (Do Not Resuscitate), on my medical record.

This is justified and many tears were shed coming to the decision. It is the best avenue to take considering the condition of my physical form. My bone density is very low which means that if I were to receive CPR my ribs would shatter. Greater risk is that my heart and poor physical condition makes it ninety nine percent positive I will slip into a coma – a coma I will not recover from.

I pray no one ever has to have this discussion with their family. It was/is the most heartbreaking talk I have ever imagined having to have.

Saddest part being the reaction of my family and friends. I, being the patient, fully have accepted that I am knocking on the gates of Valhalla. I did not wish to accept it, but it is what it is.

I also have refused any major surgery that will disfigure and disable me. I refuse wholeheartedly to have my love ones suffer the anguish of watching me whither away, perhaps for weeks or months. That would scar their very souls for life. It would be selfish of me to put them through such.

They understand. They don’t like accepting it, but, once again, it is what it is.

I am not, by far, a ‘religious’ man. I am a man of faith. I believe in a higher, supreme power. Over the past 15 years I have been brought back to life 9 times so far. I wrote about these times previously. It’s suffice to say my life has been full of numerous ups and downs. Often down. It strengthened my personality and outlook on life. To most they would say my life was tragic. I see it as just ‘my life’. Sixty-one and a half years of learning and growth.

So, as it stands today, I have a battle to win. And I shall win because I am surrounded by true caring and love. I have a large group of beautiful souls who have formed a ‘Prayer Army’ on my behalf. Believe or not, but there is a power in prayers. They don’t have to be church indoctrinated chants, but rather sincere and positive praise to whoever you perceive as your Creator.

I am anxious to get the results of the tests tomorrow. The waiting and the fear of what may be is far more disheartening than the cancers themselves. The fear of the unknown instills an anxiety that clouds judgement.

I prefer sunny days over cloudy ones.

So, I will leave you now and I will blog whatever happens next in my wonderful life as soon as I know.

Until then, I remain ‘Dann, just as I am – – – The Original Urban Viking’.

NAMASTE’ MY FRIENDS

And remember to ……

ALWAYS PRAY IT FORWARD

BLESS

Deep Thoughts

Emotions run deep with aging. Things matter more as your aged body reminds your brain that time is slithering down the drainpipe of life.

I find myself experiencing moments that often well my eyes with tears. Be they of joy or of sadness, they appear frequently.

I have become an emotional senior.

A simplistic hug from my grown child, a smile from a grandchild, watching my nephews with their daughters or just sharing a coffee with a friend fills my heart with a warmth like no other.

All my life I was known as a”tough guy” and in many ways I may have well been such.

I can only say that I perceive myself as a mere man who – due to leaving home at a very young age – learned that life is survival of the fittest. So perhaps I inherent acquired “tough guy facades”.

I am extremely tough within myself. Physical pain is my souls equivalent of an Oreo cookie is to my taste buds.

I have the ability to withstand the highest thresholds of physical pain you could imagine.

I fear not pain. I have had far too many surgeries to accept pains tangy bite.

Mental anguish, however, rips me to pieces. Never used to, though.

This is yet another newly acquired curse brought up by the aging of the body and mind. The “Maturity of Self”, if you will.

Aging and I are at ends. I see no friendship developing between us. I find aging to be an ignorant, pushy, son of a bitch. It would be best to step aside and return me my full head of hair.

I like bunnies. They are cute, but can be viscous little creatures. It being Easter, many a bunny will be suffering in a short period. Victims of someone’s idea of a “cute” Easter present.

Cute until either let loose to fend for themselves or orphaned to the nearest Society for the Prevention of Animal Cruelty.

Poor bunnies. I like bunnies.

Don’t like insects. Little frackers make me itch. Big time! Worse than the skin condition I caught off of that East Indian girl in junior high school. But, I do not think we should speak of that any further.

I love loving. It is the one life long “habit” that does not fade away as our facial wrinkles grow deep. Love feels the same or greater with each day.

For it is as real as all the other emotions that form our individual personalities.

The most important of all emotions.

I respect aging. Can’t be stopped. Persistent till the end. You must respect that determination. I will compromise. We will live side by side within the boundaries of my persona.

I am fighting two cancers. I almost lost the first round.

A stroke, an abscess from Hell, septicemia attack, my spleen exploding and resulting in my bleeding almost completely out – – – all the while having two double sessions of radical radiation per day.

I live a very strange life while existing in a strange society.

And I like bunnies and a fiesty woman.