"Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real."
- Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
In just two short weeks, I am due to be back at work. Given the fact that I'm barely speaking right now and not eating, I'm a little worried about being ready to go back to work. Mentally and emotionally, I've been ready (even eager) to get back to my work. Physically, I'm in great shape to sit at a desk and computer all day. It's what I've been doing, in fact training for, these last few weeks. However, the power of speech without vomiting is pretty critical to what I do. So, I'm hoping to really get some serious recovery going on that front in the next two weeks.
Two weeks. It seems so little time in the grand scheme of 6 months out of the office . . . but I know how this recover business is. Any morning I could wake up and feel well enough to try soup or food. Although right now my throat is full and my nose very congested, this could change. I am hopeful that in the next two weeks I'll be ready to go. It does worry me a bit, but I will do my best. Prayer and determination should get me ready to return.
One thing that troubles me is that my nose is perpetually congested . . . which is a symptom of nasopharynx cancer. Did the radiation nuke the primary site or is there residual that remains? Is it on the rebound and determined to finish what it started? In a few weeks, I meet with Dr. Weinstein and Dr. Sherman again to get answers to this question.
Like Dr. Bar Ad (my radiologist), Dr. Sherman will be leaving Penn. This summer he'll be going to Sloan-Kettering in New York, a world-renowned cancer hospital. It's good knowing that my doctor is so well regarded that he can secure a position at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country.
At this point, getting ready for a return to work, I look back at how far I've come and what I've been through. I still have a ways to go before life returns to anything resembling normal, but the most gruesome parts of the battle are hopefully behind me. I think of the long weeks of radiation, the 6 different chemo treatments, scores of trips to the hospital for fluid and tests, and those lovely emergency room visits. Looking back at it all, it's very easy to forget what I've been through . . . even though it was such a struggle while I was going through it. It's truly amazing what the human psyche can do in forgetting past pain.
What I cannot forget is the love and strength I had around me through this battle. I remember so clearly how surreal it was to hear that I had advanced cancer, and thinking I was going to die. The calls that I made to my mom, my wife, my friend Brian, and to my boss Alada remain so vivid to me. The drives to University City with dad and with mom for treatment are indelible. Mom's smiles and Kristina's constant and tender support will always be with me. The kind words from those on this blog, Nancy's cards, Shelly's visits, emails, texts, and the caring look in friends' eyes, these are all treasures that I've collected during this difficult time. With the love of so many, I've gotten through it.
- Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
In just two short weeks, I am due to be back at work. Given the fact that I'm barely speaking right now and not eating, I'm a little worried about being ready to go back to work. Mentally and emotionally, I've been ready (even eager) to get back to my work. Physically, I'm in great shape to sit at a desk and computer all day. It's what I've been doing, in fact training for, these last few weeks. However, the power of speech without vomiting is pretty critical to what I do. So, I'm hoping to really get some serious recovery going on that front in the next two weeks.
Two weeks. It seems so little time in the grand scheme of 6 months out of the office . . . but I know how this recover business is. Any morning I could wake up and feel well enough to try soup or food. Although right now my throat is full and my nose very congested, this could change. I am hopeful that in the next two weeks I'll be ready to go. It does worry me a bit, but I will do my best. Prayer and determination should get me ready to return.
One thing that troubles me is that my nose is perpetually congested . . . which is a symptom of nasopharynx cancer. Did the radiation nuke the primary site or is there residual that remains? Is it on the rebound and determined to finish what it started? In a few weeks, I meet with Dr. Weinstein and Dr. Sherman again to get answers to this question.
Like Dr. Bar Ad (my radiologist), Dr. Sherman will be leaving Penn. This summer he'll be going to Sloan-Kettering in New York, a world-renowned cancer hospital. It's good knowing that my doctor is so well regarded that he can secure a position at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country.
At this point, getting ready for a return to work, I look back at how far I've come and what I've been through. I still have a ways to go before life returns to anything resembling normal, but the most gruesome parts of the battle are hopefully behind me. I think of the long weeks of radiation, the 6 different chemo treatments, scores of trips to the hospital for fluid and tests, and those lovely emergency room visits. Looking back at it all, it's very easy to forget what I've been through . . . even though it was such a struggle while I was going through it. It's truly amazing what the human psyche can do in forgetting past pain.
What I cannot forget is the love and strength I had around me through this battle. I remember so clearly how surreal it was to hear that I had advanced cancer, and thinking I was going to die. The calls that I made to my mom, my wife, my friend Brian, and to my boss Alada remain so vivid to me. The drives to University City with dad and with mom for treatment are indelible. Mom's smiles and Kristina's constant and tender support will always be with me. The kind words from those on this blog, Nancy's cards, Shelly's visits, emails, texts, and the caring look in friends' eyes, these are all treasures that I've collected during this difficult time. With the love of so many, I've gotten through it.
7 comments:
Good luck Dave!!
Will you get your doctor to write an RX that states you don't have to wear pants to work?
My nurse instincts tell me that the mucosal membranes in your nose just have not healed fully yet. But I can understand why you are concerned. I will pray that this turns out to be nothing to worry over and in time it will return to normal soon.
Do you have to return to work for a full day or can you do some short days to begin with? I am keeping my fingers crossed that you will be ready.
Thinking about you!
Hi Dave
You just about said it all. I sit here with tears in my eyes. You have been through so much. Yes, you still have a way to go before life becomes normal again. You're a fighter and a winner and I know that in time you will be back to normal. You've come so far.
Hopefully, before you return to work, you'll be feeling alot better. Is there a chance that you could take a little more time off if you need to?
Just keep holding on to all the love and prayers that are being sent your way every minute of every day.
We're all with you!!
Love & Hugs...........Nancy
I pray for your complete recovery. See you soon brave one.
XOXOXOXOXOXO Mama
Hello Dave. I posted a prior comment under anonymous. I also have nasopharyngeal cancer stage IV. I am experiencing nasal congestion as well and have had it since the completion of radiation on Jan 10, 2007. I have asked the oncologist several times about the congestion and he always responds that it's a side effect of the radiation. As Melinda noted in her comment, the mucosal membranes in the nose are very sensitive and can become swollen from the harsh effects of the radiation. According to the oncologist it can take several months for the body to heal the tissues after radiation. I was also told by the chemo oncologist that some types of chemo can cause congestion. I am confident that the treatment is the cause for both of us and not the cancer rearing it's ugly head. I admire your fight and your spirit. Your blog has helped me through some very difficult and dark days. I still have not rec'd the all clear from the Dr.'s, but have an appt scheduled for April 24 for results. I am optimistic. I hope you are feeling better soon. I strongly believe that medicine contributes 40% to the healing process,but something much stronger is responsible for 60% of the healing process. It is the love/support of family/friends, a positive attitude and God that do most of the work. You seem to be blessed with all of these in abundance. Take care.
Hi Dave
It's Easter morning. I woke thinking about you, which I do alot.The sun is out and it looks as though it's going to be a beautiful day. I know that you are going to have ALOT of beautiful days ahead of you. I hope this finds you getting stronger every day and feeling more like the old Dave. You've been on a long, hard road but it's going to be full speed ahead soon. I expect to see you at the car shows this summer. You should think about going to the one in Tennessee in Sept. that we go to. You wouldn't believe it!!
It's a car crazy town!!!!!
I hope you have a beautiful Easter!
Love & Hugs....Nancy XO
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