THE END

It's over. The last treatment has been taken and recovered from. The recent scans show no signs of the cancer remaining. All that is left is the removal of the port through which chemical weapons against cancer were injected. After that, there is nothing left.

This experience has not really changed me. Everything will go back to normal soon and I will just keep going where ever I am going. There is no telling what lies ahead but that doesn't matter. I like to live in the moment and not plan everything out, because nothing ever goes as planned.

It's back to learning stuff I'll soon forget at school and dreaming about doing stuff I may or may not do. That's how it was before and that is how it will be now. I don't know if I was supposed to learn anything from this. All I've learned is that getting cancer sucks. I have also learned what suffering and misery really are and that before this I never truly knew those things. Hopefully I won't have to relearn them but that is impossible to guarantee, isn't it.

Some of you may wonder about how things are going to be for me mentally now that this is over. I have discussed my mental state and the problems with it that started before the cancer so you must be wondering how the hell I'll tie that up. The answer, like all real life answers, is disappointing. It is impossible to tell where I'm going with this mental thing. Right now I'm in the middle, not too depressed but not too happy. I don't know what I believe in nor what truth really is. So until further notice I'll assume that the truth about everything, life, history, the world is simply what people make it. It's almost as though everyone lives in their own little world, their own version of reality and accepts it as the true reality.

Because of this I don't believe in truth anymore. I believe that everyone is right about everything because what they believe is completely true in their world. Same goes for me. The theory I explained to you just now is completely true in my world because I dictate my own reality. In yours it might be different. But that doesn't bother me. Everyone's entitled to their own reality and it is pointless for people to argue which one is right.

But enough of my crazy philosophy. My point is this blog is over. The cancer experience is just a memory for me now and it is a memory I'd be happy to lose. Therefore, I'm done with this blog whose name is cancer. I won't close it down so you can still read it. I just won't add anymore. Perhaps I'll start another blog in which is about something I actually like instead of something I want to just get through with and forget.

But before I leave, I would like to clarify some things. I did not start this blog, my dad did and he was the one who created the first entry. You can probably tell by the difference in the writing. He then had me take it from there. That's the truth.

Now I'm going to end what my dad started. It's over now. Nothing more for me to talk about here. The cancer is gone, I've learned some things, I have no idea what my future will be like and what happens to my mental state remains to be seen.

It's over. End of story. The end.

My Light and Dark Sides

For the record, I'm a major Star Wars fan, hence the title of this entry. I probably know more about Star Wars than anyone I know. Some of the Star Wars canon is filled with great, epic stories of war, heroism, damnation, redemption, slaughter and justice. Other parts, such as the recent CGI movie that just came out, are just eye candy for kids ten and under.

But enough about Star Wars. I could go on forever about it! What I really want to talk about is me. You see, today I just received my first radiation treatment at Lutheran General Hospital. As they said it was painless and I did not feel any immediate side effects. Unfortunately, I have twenty-two more of these treatments to go and I will be taking them every day five days a week until they're done!

But that's not what's important. What's important is the battle between my light and dark sides within me.

First of all, I should tell you that the previous blog I wrote, called "plans" was just a bunch of crap that I wrote when I was in a shitty mood. That was my dark side talking, the side that says this experience isn't going to change me at all and that no matter what happens I'm still killing myself after high school.

My light side on the other hand says that this experience was a gift from God that will ultimately make me a much better person than I was before. My dark side will tell you that's just me on my happy drug Ativan and that I will never be like that again because Ativan makes me sick.

Not Anymore!

I just took Ativan by mouth today and instead of making me sick it made me happy! It allowed the light side of me to be unleashed and gave me the motivation I needed to write a decent blog instead of the nihilistic bullshit I wrote last time. (Sorry for swearing)

To make the battle between my light and dark sides even more interesting is my introduction to a new anti-anxiety drug called Klonopin. This drug is in the same family as Ativan and has similar effects on me.

However, unlike Ativan, Klonopin unleashes my dark side in a way. It reduces my guilt and makes me feel freer to speak negative thoughts about my self and life.

I believe now I am at a crossroads in my life. I have identified several different sides of myself. The ultimate question of course is which one shall be the only one, for there can only be one.

I'm not sure where things are going to go from here but I do believe a big change is coming for me. For now we can only wait and see what the future holds for me. But ultimately, like in Star Wars, I think I will have to chose between the light side and the dark side in the end. Will I make the right choice?

Plans

I used to have lots of plans. Years ago, when I was in Middle School, I had big plans for myself. I was going to write an epic series of novels with the help of one of my friends. The novels would be so great that they would all be made into movies, like a lot of Stephen King novels have been.

I realize now that it was a naive, childish plan that probably could never happen. Sure enough, it never did happen. Me and my friend forgot about it and it's been forgotten ever since. That's what happens to a lot of plans. I really don't care anymore.

My parents have plans too. First of all, when it came to school it was my mom's plan to have me go when I could and not go when I could not. On the other hand, it was my dad's plan that I didn't go to school at all until my treatments were all done. In the end we went with my mom's plan.

I got really sick of my parents arguing about what to do. I did not have a plan at all and I just wanted them to make a good plan for me that they could agree on. Now my parents are doing better about arguing about their plans for me. They still do it sometimes though.

I don't even know what other plans they might have for me. I don't really care right now either. I am the one in control of my life so their plans, whatever they may be, will only work if I like them.

Currently I have no real plans. I'm still uncertain about everything. I'm starting to wonder if what I said in earlier blogs was overly-optimistic. I mean the Ativan drug I take that used to make me feel good just doesn't do that anymore. It just makes me fatigued and a little sick to my stomach now. Going back to school was no different than it ever was. I'm getting the feeling that once this is over everything will be the same for me again. The only reason I have ever said otherwise is because I took Antivan. That's what was in my system when I wrote most of the other blogs. Now it just makes me sick.

Either way I have no plans for my future now. I'm just going with the flow of school and treatment and whatever my parents say. This isn't over yet though. I suppose something great could still happen before I go completely back to normal. Maybe Ativan not working anymore is God telling me that some drug isn't the answer to all my problems but rather it is something more complicated, something deeper. I'm just worried that all of my thoughts about this cancer saving me from myself are going to end just like my plans in Middle School; in the darkness of lost time.

Standing My Ground

First of all, I read all of your comments to my last entry and I really liked them. In fact, they are all very relevant to my current situation.

As you may know my last major treatment, my last VAC, was just last Friday. Since then I believe I have passed a turning point in this experience. It happened when I was having a conversation with my deeply religious Uncle Michael. Michael is a long-bearded, blat-hat wearing orthodox Jew who teaches Judaism in New York. The point is this guy knows his stuff when it comes to God and religion. Anyhow, when I was talking to him on the phone one day he said something that made something in my head click. He said that God never gives us tests that we can't pass.

This statement from him is very important to me because it makes a lot of sense to me. All of my life I've had many experiences, some good, some bad, but never have I ever experienced anything that I just couldn't take.

So you can see why something in my head went 'click' after he said that. All my life God has tested me but never has he given me a test I couldn't pass. After hearing these words of wisdom from Michael God started to make sense to me. And because God made sense to me I was able to believe in him more strongly, after all, we all have an easier time believing stuff that makes sense to us.

Basically, Uncle Michael rejuvenated my faith in God that day and now I no longer have doubt that God has a plan for me. He does have a plan for me and that plan would have been impossible had I not gotten cancer.

Why? To understand that you must all understand what I was like before this whole thing started for me. Physically, I was obviously fine, but mentally, emotionally and socially I could have been considered as sick then as I am physically now. This is because I have a form of autism called Asperger's syndrome. It is an autism that affects high mental functions. I don't know all about it. I just know that this syndrome is the reason I was how I was. I was quite, reserved, very into my own thoughts and not interested in other people. I was always afraid to reveal my personality to anyone because I had some paranoid delusion that everyone would hate me if they knew who I truly was on the inside. So I kept all of that hidden from people, save some special occasions.

This special occasions I'm referring to are times when I was forced to speak in front of the class at school. At those times the adrenaline in me would be pumping and I guess because of that my personality was able to come out when I spoke. And people liked it. There was no resentment or hatred or anything negative. Just appreciation and occasional laughter at the humor that came out when I spoke. These experiences should have proven to me that I have a great, likable personality inside me that everyone would just love to see. But because of the state of my mind I was simply incapable of learning this and as soon as I was done speaking I would gradually go back to my normal, secluded self.

Because of my social-emotional problems I didn't have high hopes for my future back then. I was sure that my life was going nowhere. I was going to be too afraid to go to college and get a life. I just wouldn't be able to handle myself as a man in the real world. So, in my lower moods, I always figured that I would just kill myself at around the end of high school since I knew there was no way I could possibly live my life beyond that. In my higher moods I was simply apathetic about the future.

I needed a miracle to save me from myself. I got one. The process of treating this cancer is going to save my life in more than one way. Not only will it save me from the cancer itself but the experience of it all is going to save me from myself. After this is over I'll have more faith in God, more faith in myself and I'll have the drugs and therapy to help me overcome my Asperger's. As I mentioned earlier, one of the anti-nausea medications I'm receiving improves me both physically and mentally. It seems to temporarily sweep my Asperger's aside and let me unleash my true personality. This particular drug my not be the one that does the job but I'm sure that something similar to it may help me. My dad is already on the case of finding that similar drug. He's set me up to see a psychiatrist latter to check me out and see what I need. What should be noted about all this is that none of it would have happened had I not gotten cancer and that is why this experience is going to save me from myself.

But back to what I was saying about what Uncle Michael told me(a long way back, I know), what he said made me feel better about this whole thing. But he isn't the only one I have to thank for making this experience better for me. My doctor, Dr. Walterhouse, made Friday's treatment a lot easier for me by giving me a double douse of the drug that improves me physically and mentally. Because of his excellent decision I didn't vomit once while I was at the hospital and actually slept there for quite a while. Finally, I have to give Tom Petty credit for making me feel better. His famous Won't Back Down song was what I listened to on my brother's PSP as the nurses at the hospital injected my with the drugs that would make me sick. That song was a real moral booster for me and since then I have vowed not to quite this treatment and stand my ground. I promise you all that with God, my family, my friends and Tom Petty's song at my side I won't back down but I'll stand my ground until this is over.

God's Plans for Me(Maybe?)

Many people credit me with the ability to endure hard situations such as the one I am currently in. They say I'm always pragmatic and calm about it and am good at taking long, hard processes one step at a time.

This was true for me when this whole cancer mess began for me. I was calm about it and was able to take it one step at a time. First the removal of the tumor that started it all, then the revelation that the tumor was cancerous and malignant, then the surgery to remove the possibly infected lymph nodes, and finally the beginning of my chemotherapy treatments. I took all these things calmly as they came and went and did not dwell on anything more than getting past my most current hurtle.

Things began to change with the onset of chemotherapy. First of all, I greatly underestimated the severity of the side effects the first time I went in. For my first treatment of three drugs I was very complacent, assuming that the standard issue anti-nausea drugs would make the experience a piece of cake. They didn't and I suffered a lot more than I thought I ever would.

After experiencing the true debilitating power of chemotherapy for the first time my moral was greatly shaken. I had to go through three more of those awful treatments! This was hard to stomach. When I heard that I'd be getting a new drug for nausea for my second treatment at the hospital my confidence was partially revived. But when the second treatment turned out to be little better than the first I was shaken. The harsh week of recovery afterward only made it worse. Fatigue, nausea, heartburn and constipation plagued me for days after I left the hospital.

It was during these harsh days that my calm, pragmatic spirit finally broke. I thought, "This is ridiculous! All of this suffering! It's endless for me! I should have just killed myself the day the doctors first saw my tumor! Nothing has been worth it at all! All of this just to save a failure of a human being who, according to natural selection, should have died several times over! WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF GOING THROUGH THIS ANYMORE!?! Once this is over it's just gonna be back to school and work and all that miserable crap. Hell, I'll be wishing I was sick again by the time I'm half-way through the shit-load of work I'm gonna have to do senior year. I should just kill myself and end my miserable life RIGHT NOW!!!"

Well, maybe all that wasn't in one train of thought but during that first week after my second treatment all of those lines of thought crossed my mind many times. So what did I do? I realized that I was never gonna kill myself or anything crazy like that and instead I plead to God himself. I begged him to relieve my suffering and as I did so tears came to my eyes, proving to me that I was making a genuine connection to God.

Did God answer my plea? Did he relieve me of my pain. Sort of. The heart-burn did finally go away and I found out what caused it; refried beans. While filling and thick, seemingly good for a stomach with nausea problems, they are also hard to digest, which means a weak stomach will produce more than enough acid to cause heartburn when one eats them. The constipation also went away as well. I just drank some Milk of Magnesia, a potent laxative, and my constipation problem was quickly settled.

But the day after my constipation went away I got a stomach ache. I'm still not sure what caused it. I've suspected either it was my weekly Vincristine dose or something I ate that my stomach just wasn't ready for. Anyhow, the pain made me induce vomiting twice, each time giving me all too temporary relief and the second time burning my throat with stomach acid. I went to bed hoping to sleep off the burn and the stomach pain. I woke up with the burn gone and the stomach pain still there. I was furious! I had had enough of this crap already. My restored faith in God and His love was terribly shaken and I once again to think to myself those previously stated suicidal lines of thought.

Finally, after way too long, I took an Antivan, the "happy drug" I've mentioned in previous posts and calmed down. While I was in my precious state of mental tranquility I began to think more about God and what he was thinking as he gave me/allowed me to receive both pain and relief here and there. I began to wonder what His plan for me was. As I thought I realized something; this ailment I have had has been the perfect ailment for me. It has not caused me any great, mind-blowing physiological problems that I could never handle and yet it has not been easy enough for me to consider easy to endure. It's almost as thought God has been testing me and my ability to stay calm about things when I'm sick because getting through this required that ability more than anything else. Is this God testing my will, seeing how far I can go before I just snap. Or is it God trying to bring me closer to him by making me realize that my own will the endurance are not enough to get me through life and I need to keep Him close to me during all times of trouble? I can only guess what God is thinking. I am far too humble to say that I have the ability to understand the thoughts and plans of God, the creator and ruler of the universe. All I can do is try to understand God's messages to me if and when they come and try to do what God wants me to do. For now, I'm going to just stay close to God, believe in him, do my best to destroy all doubt in my mind and sincerely thank him for any relief from suffering I get. And when I do plea for God's help I hope He answers my plea with relief because I know now that I am reaching my breaking point. God don't let me break. Please.

Where I'm Going

Where am I going now? Let's see, first of all I think I'm going bald. My hair has become very loose on my head and can easily be pulled out. It won't be long now until it falls out on its own I imagine. So far it's only falling out on my head but that may change.

I also know that I'm going to be sick for a week starting this Friday because that's when I receive my next major treatment at the hospital and if it affects me as it did last time I'm going to be sick for a week after. The people at the hospital say that they're going to be giving me some new anti-nausea drugs this time along with some old ones that sort of worked. This may mean I won't get too sick but I'm not going to get my hopes up only to be disappointed so I'll be expecting to get sick when I go in...that is unless I take one of those drugs that makes me happy before I go in, then I won't worry about it at all! Maybe I should do that.

Finally, I know that under normal circumstances I would be going back to school in the fall. But because I'm getting radiation therapy every day for four and a half weeks in the fall I'm not so sure I'm going back. The radiation therapy will not only mean I'll have to take a long ride from where I live to the hospital and back but it may also get me sick. Not to mention, I will still be getting chemotherapy when the school year starts and even though I'll have no more "nasty C" to deal with at that time I'm still not sure if I'll be up to going to school. Only time will tell.

Treatment Road

My trip down treatment road started on Friday the 19th of June. That was the day when I went in to receive my first round of chemotherapy.

This road, created by my doctors, is 22 weeks long. The 22 weeks are broken in two by a two week break between all treatments. These two weeks count as two of the 22 weeks of treatment so I'm really only facing 20 weeks of chemotherapy, ten weeks before the break and ten weeks after. During the first ten weeks I must go to the hospital once every three weeks, starting on the first day of the first week, to receive three chemotherapy drugs at the same time. I must do this four times in all during the first ten weeks. During the second ten weeks I must do the same basic thing four times except that I will only be taking two drugs instead of three. The third drug is what cause the worst side-effects so I will be referring to it as "nasty C" because it's name starts with a C and I don't know nor care how to spell or pronounce it.

Besides my trips to the hospital for drugs, during these two periods of ten weeks I am also receiving a dose of Vincristine once a week at home as well. During the second ten weeks I will also be receiving radiation therapy due to the fact that my cancer ended up spreading to some of my lymph nodes. This will be every day for the first four and a half weeks of the second ten weeks. After the second ten weeks are over I will have completed my journey down my road of treatments.

The first week of that road was not easy. I went into chemotherapy on Friday in a state of complacency. Although I knew that this was supposed to make me nauseous and all I was still complacent because I had also heard a whole lot of good stuff about the great anti-nausea drugs they gave you at the hospital. I was rudely awakened from my complacency by strong, painful nausea. The drugs did not work as good as I thought they would and needless to say I vomited three times during my eighteen hour stay at the hospital. The reason I had to stay for eighteen hours was that the "nasty C" had to be thoroughly washed out of me by hours worth of fluids given to me via a port that had been installed in me the week before. This is necessary because "nasty C" is bad for your kidneys so they want to make sure it goes through you as fast as possible.

But "nasty C" obviously does its share of damage while it's in you because for days after I left the hospital I was still feeling the effects of "nasty C". For days I experienced waves of nausea and my apatite was very low. Drugs they gave me for home provided some alleviation but even when I wasn't nauseous I still had this general feeling of fatigue most of the time. Of course, there was that one drug in which got rid of my nausea, gave me back a little apatite and made me feel very happy. But I didn't take this one often because I always thought I was finally getting better and I could ween off the drugs. I also refrained from taking it a lot because a nurse warned that it was addicting. I could tell, for it really seemed to give me unnatural happiness. At this moment however I'm not so sure. I'm starting to wonder if I've stumbled upon a drug, or a class of drug, that could actually make me the happy, outgoing person I was meant to be. I'll explain what I mean by that another time perhaps. Now I would just like to finish by saying that I'm pretty sure that the effects of "nasty C" are finally fading away and I should be fine until my next dose of "nasty C" two weeks from now. As for the Vincristine I'll be taking once a week until then, I'm not too worried about it. The side-effects of Vincristine aren't that bad so I don't think that the next two weeks will be too bad. Only time will tell for sure.

Generous People

On Wednesday, my father received lots of generosity from people at his workplace. Earlier he had only one person at his work about me, his boss Carol. But on Wednesday Carol was not the only person there that knew. She told everyone there what was going on with me and everyone responded well.

They created a nice little get-well card with a whole bunch of signatures on it for my family. They also donate a bunch of money to us as well. My father said that they all treated him nicely and were very sympathetic. He said there was even one person who told him about someone they knew with cancer and got very emotional in the process.

But the people at my dad's work are not the only ones outside my family being nice. My mom's friends have been generous as well. They have all been concerned about me and have been asking about me all the time. A couple of her friends even assembled a nice little gift basket for me!

I'm sure this generosity will continue and I will always appreciate it, as will the rest of my family. People being nice to you always helps you get through hard times. Hopefully the worst is already over for me and the chemotherapy will not be that bad. I guess I'll see on Friday.

Regardless of how I do later, thank you everyone who has been generous to me and my family, especially the people at my father's workplace. My father says that the people he is working with now are some of the friendliest he has worked with and the generosity they showed Wednesday is great proof of that.

Saturday Scare

Saturday, just two days after my surgery and one day after I left the hospital, was supposed to be a fairly relaxing day for me. My first full day at home since Tuesday, I was supposed to just lie around and rest that day, doing nothing but maybe watching some movies or TV. At first that was all I did that day. Eating and drinking were fine and urinating was also fine.

But at night, while I was just sitting on the couch watching a movie with my parents the unexpected happened. At first it just felt like I was a little cold, nothing I could not handle. But it seemed to progress. I put a light blanket on my torso but that did not help much. I began shivering uncontrollably, completely unable to stop. First my dad, then my mom, tried to hold me in order to stop the shivering. I was terrified. I was totally unable to stop my muscles from tensing up. It almost felt like I was going to die.

Finally, while in my mother's arms, I stopped shivering. I was so relieved! It was just so frightening to be shivering uncontrollably like that. Unfortunately, the shivering was followed by a fever. My father called a doctor and they said that I might have to go to the hospital again. I did not want that. Fortunately, the doctor ended up saying that I should take some pills and go to sleep and if the fever persisted until morning I would go to the hospital. I slept good and hard that night and when I woke up the fever was very low and by midday it was totally gone. I hope that this never happens again because it was terrifying. Hopefully the chemotherapy will not produce side effects like this. Right now I'm just glad I am better and I hope it stays that way until Friday because I desperately need some time to relax!

Home from hospital today

Had my macroscopic lymph node remove yesterday, since I was unconscious the whole time I don't remember much but when I woke up in recovery I felt very nausea's and my mid section hurt. Started pre procedures about 9:30 with some very nice drug that made life very nice. Next pump into the IV and I was out till I awoke in recovery with my mom and dad there about 4 hours later. Moraphine is very very good. Laid around for a few hours and got some more pain meds, had some sprite and tried to urinate, you know how they are in the hospitals are about that. I just couldnt go, was drinking alot and had IV going but not flow. Dr. came by later and increased IV had me walk to washroom and finally got some to squirt, "oh happy day". That was thursday went home friday afternoon and just laid around. Nurse wo let me out recommended tylenol 325mgs every few hours. My dad called the hospital and said moraphine last night and today asprin??? They gave me a script for some hydrochdone. Finally some relief. Get to see onocologist on Friday and learn of my chemo schedule, cant wait. My father loves me.