Hello to all, and again... a big THANKS to "ALL"
for the answers to questions, advice and upbeat spirits...
as I faced the two procedures I encountered.
And,
a very special thank you to Gordon,
who went out of his way several times to directly answer specific questions by emails...
I have been home just over a week...gained 3 #'s with my ladies home cooking...lost 19#'s in 19-days with the bladder removal, and too I was in another five-days prior to this surgery, for the TURB, which was of no use except to tell us the Cancer was invasive and had to come out.
All things considered, I'm a very lucky man.
Fate, faith, call it as you believe or not...
I was told I had 3-months to 3-years,
I came home 100 % clean...NO Cancer left in my body that we can locate.
This includes additional good news:
I'm 61-years old for those who haven't visited with me previously,
a serious outdoorsman, hard-core wilderness canoe kind of guy.
I teach hard-core Hand-To-Hand Combat skills...not your typical martial arts.
I have owned several businesses for over 20-years, only recently selling out/shutting a couple down and doing the "almost" retired thing...
I bought a retail gun store and pistol range in 2004, set it up with a couple of younger professional men who purchased small shares of stock with majority ownership planned down the road. Point is, once it was up and running, I turned the business over to them with my long-term attorney and accountant watching over their shoulders so I have no reason to hover over the partners...
I say this, because the store helps promote my classes which also brings in 'play' money and keeps my belly flat. Teaching also keeps me sharp with the holds, throws, etc.
I'm a stair-stepper addict, every single morning I climb long and hard,
with a couple of 1-hour weight work-outs a week.
6' 5" and 205, prior to the cutting. Down to 186, now 189,
as you can see, even with that many pounds...
I'm a skinny guy at six-five. But, as stated, my sweetie will have me back over 200 in a couple of months at the most...
Now,
to shock a few, a couple just for fun...Patricia in particular,
I went with the Continent Orthotopic Neo...
although we had tried to research, etc. the Indiana "for men",
finding at least in this part of Texas...no assistance.
I did notice a post of such while I was away...
Here's the kicker,
scream, preach, cuss as you see fit...
name calling doesn't bother this ol' man one little bit...
I picked my surgeon based on what the Harris Methodist Hospital nursing staff declared as the best Urologist that utilized the hospital.
I went nurse to nurse, spoke with their managers and even a few tech's...
He, Sidney Worsham, M.D., has performed the Ileal for 20-odd-years.
He did the Koch several times years ago...but made the decision to restrict himself to those who needed/desired the Ileal.
To me...
what was important was that he was a top-notch "stitcher",
( he does of course, do kidney and prostate surgery as well ).
We discussed my options,
he insisted I go to Southwest Medical in the mid-cities to visit with their staff of doctors to really make an informed decision...
I did not. I phoned several, and emailed a couple of others...
but found no individual that I felt as comfortable with as this man...
I studied, I researched, and presented the materials to Sidney.
We discussed the potential issues, he accepted his role as
"capable" of doing the Neo with a bit of study,
and he chose to bring in a back-up surgeon 'just in case'.
Everything...went flawlessly.
All the same hurts and pain each of you went through...
but then such is life. As an old body-guard/bounty hunter,
I assure you I have dealt with painful wounds for well over thirty years...
unlike that TV embarrassment guy...
I have now had the bone-scan,
multiple blood work,
kidneys, lungs, liver, gall bladder, even my heart...
all declared to be much, much healthier than my age.
And, cancer free throughout...
Of course it can pop back up,
but a damn truck may run me over first,
or...any of lifes other bumps in the road that we all face in our daily lives...
Anyway,
I'm home, cathing each morning...
really just for fun... ;D
And for those worried about such...it gets easier every time.
Cathing, is a mindset guys,
there is NO pain,
there is a feeling of 'invasiveness' I would call it.
I do not look forward to it,
but neither do I dred it.
There are certainly folks all around us who have bigger problems.
And this is my story...
my advice...my opinion.
Do what you have to do to live,
do whatever it takes to hold on to your family and friends.
Most importantly...Keep a positive attitude !
Pain hurts !
None of us, even big ol' mean boys, want to hurt.
But, it passes so quickly.
Nineteen days of mostly misery...I admit.
Yet now, it is behind me.
I am a Cancer survivor !
My dad, bless his full Irish heart, turned 92 last February.
Genetics is on my side, and with the proper mental attitude...
I intend to still be with my love when I turn a hundred...
In closing, a look back at some inner feelings which 'help'me personally put things in perspective...
and a short, and true story of my youth...
This last battle,
one of the scariest, most overpowering feelings I've ever experienced,
mainly because 'I couldn't reach inside and doctor the hurt' myself,
has left me 'looking back' once again at some of those so-called dark
memories we tend to bury away, way back there in the shadows of our minds.
I admit to 'knowing - living' the phrase "Foxhole Religion",
a couple of times actually, but with 35-years of time to 'bury'
these thoughts, it becomes fainter all the time about how we feel
when we should never, ever, forget...
But its easy really,
point blank because none of us like pain.
My paternal grandfather Charlie Columbus Day, a big man,
a proud and hard man, taught you lessons in life "his way"...
Like a lot of "old time grandfathers"...he said,
"It's time you learn to swim..."
and he threw your butt in the creek and by golly, you learned to swim !
But, on this subject of physical pain...
When I was 'about' 11-years old, 1957 I'd guess,
coming home from church on a Sunday morning in Pilot Point, Texas,
I shut his car door on my right thumb...buried it in there.
I'd closed the door, like a kid, acting silly, playin' around,
with my arm twisted behind my back.
Thus, the "accident" was caused by 'my own stupidity'.
And Pawpa knew that...
I screamed, I started cryin' real tears...I remember it like yesterday...
He turned around and looked down at me with his hands on his hips,
and said, "Why did you do that ?"
I screamed louder, cried more tears...
and he just stood there. I swear, he didn't say a word
until I finally calmed down some and said,
Please Pawpa, please unlock, or undo, the door...
or whatever my words were to that affect...
Then, still standing in the same spot, all this time,
he leaned over and opened the door,
and then calmly, matter-of-factly, said,
"It'll feel better when it quits hurtin'", and walked off.
There is a lesson there, as always,
in everything we experience...
