Mom, are you going to be around on Monday? I need to see Shira, she doesn’t live too far from you so I figured I would see you too.

Mom and I have always been very close. Pretty much as close as I can be with my mom short of being creepy. I now had a treatment plan, it is time to tell mom what is going on. The only way I can do that is face-to-face so I make up an excuse and Monday morning I head out on a 5-hour drive. That gave me plenty of time to figure out how the hell I was going to tell her.

She greets me at the door with a big hug and we sit at the dining table. Right away she shows me the list of things for me to fix, look at, etc. in the house! I reach out, touch her arm, look her in the eyes …

Mom, I have a medical thing going on.

She closes her eyes, tilts her head down, and says “Ok, go on.”

I have treatable, and they believe curable, colorectal cancer.

She took a deep breath, looked at me, and said

Ok. Where do we go from here?

I told her the plan. I told her my plan. I have been putting together my finances, will, etc. and told her some of that.

I know in the next couple of days you will wake up wondering the what-ifs that you don’t want to hear, but know that Pearlsky, Ellen (sister), and Inanna will all be fine. Inanna will stay in the house with the girls no matter what and will be financially secure. I am giving Ellen the condo she is living in.

You’re not going anywhere.

Probably not.

I told her how I was documenting all the important stuff for the household in case I was too sick, or whatever. She was thrilled that Norm is my porn-buddy. She got up and came back with a notebook.

When your dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, he put this together. I did not know about it until a few years later.

Dad beat the lung cancer and lived many more years. The notebook was labeled “Things you need to know” and was divided into sections. There is banking information, car information, etc. And one page in the middle that simply said,

You should know how much I have always loved you.

I then started on her list. I changed a light bulb, fixed a phone jack, etc. When we looked at her antique dresser I said that I did not have the right tools with me, but …

I will be back in the fall and fix it.

There was then one other task, and that too, I had to tell her it needed to wait until the fall.

We then went for pizza.

The next morning as I was leaving she assured me she will be up visiting several times this summer.

And I assured her that I will be back in the fall.

A Sunday evening light-weight post.

The title is a quote from SpongeBob’s Wishing Well song. Want to hear it? You know you do! Go ahead, listen to it … there is a prize if you do …

Now that you have that tune in your head (you’re welcome) … I will tell you that I believe that SpongeBob would never hurt anyone. Hence, my new chemo pump pack, and your prize is the picture …

For 15 years I raised Pearlsky on my own. She and her brother were pretty much the first in medical literature with the disorder they have. There is no organization fundraising for the Inborn Error of Serine Metabolism … I was on my own in that area. There is no National Organization of Single Dads with Severely Disabled Kids. There was some loneliness in there, much of it was alleviated by my blogging as SingleDad.

I have never been as lonely as I am lying on that radiation table. Ok, maybe it is equally lonely sitting in the chemotherapy chair. It does not matter if there are 100 people around, if Inanna is holding my hand, or I have my dog on my lap (no, I don’t have a dog, and I doubt they are allowed in the radiation machine) (unless I had a 504 plan …). I really think loneliness is a state of mind. Sure, it can be brought on by being alone, but that is not the only form it takes.

I have been to parties where I feel there is an invisible barrier between me and all the others. That can be lonely.

This is different. I have rectal cancer which can kill me, and it may be anthropomorphism (or is it personification?) to say that in fact it wants to kill me. That’s what unchecked cancer does. It is in me, not the oncologist, the radiologist nor the surgeon. It is not in you, or anyone else, these cells are mine. This is my fight. Sure, I may “buy” drugs or consultants to tell me what to do, but when you get down to it, this is between me, the cancer, and potentially the Holy One, Blessed be He.

Other cancers, disorders, human conditions have national and international organizations that bring people together, advocate, march, lobby, and so much more. They have their own colors, logos, and instant camaraderie when members (official or not) meet.

There is no National Rectal Cancer Day.

There is no Rectal Cancer Month.

There is no color associated with Rectal Cancer. (Well, maybe there is …)

This is outrageous. So if when I survive this thing I hereby promise to start a national advocacy organization to work with and for those with rectal cancer. We will have a logo. We will have a day. The chemo drug F U will be known throughout the land.

And we will have a website. I just obtained the URL (really).

www.AssholesForRectalCancer.com

Go ahead, click on it. You know you want to.

The only thing on my bucket list is to visit Padua University! (Galileo Gallei was the chair of mathematics there 1592-1610; Giacomo Casanova, Federico Faggin, and Nicolaus Copernicus were/are alumni) I consider myself a “man of science” with several engineering degrees, pre-med undergraduate, paramedic, etc. I am somewhat religious (there are no atheists in foxholes and none on radiation tables either) and I believe in global warming. Although I believe in evolution, I met Inanna over a discussion of how evolution and the Tanakh (“old Testiment”) can agree.

I tried Reiki today. From the NIH:

What is Reiki?

Reiki is a complementary health approach in which practitioners place their hands lightly on or just above a person, with the goal of facilitating the person’s own healing response.

• Reiki is based on an Eastern belief in an energy that supports the body’s innate or natural healing abilities. However, there isn’t any scientific evidence that such an energy exists.
• Reiki has been studied for a variety of conditions, including pain, anxiety, fatigue, and depression.

The NIH, and others, do give this warning:

What do we know about the safety of Reiki?

Reiki hasn’t been shown to have any harmful effects. However, Reiki should not be used to replace conventional care or to postpone seeing a health care provider about a health problem.

This is the same warning I was given when I started taking those coffee enemas. (oh, come on, of course I’m not)

It was about 15 minutes in a dimly lit silent room with a woman putting her hands on various (boring) parts of my body. Was it relaxing? Yes. Did it do anything for me? No clue. Will I do it again? Probably.

I have to keep this post short; need to get ready for tomorrow’s attempt at an early cure … the entrails of a pigeon on my keyboard at dawn.

(One reason I like the quote in the title is that many years ago I opened a comedy show for Steven Wright!)

After tomorrow I am halfway through the first fifth of hell.

1. Six weeks of chemoradiation
2. Eight to ten weeks of no active treatment, just feeling like shit
3. Surgery (hopefully)
4. Up to four months with a colostomy and chemotherapy
5. Surgery (to remove colostomy)

And then more of the unknown, potentially cancer free.

Typically I would not celebrate completing one-tenth of anything, but these days I celebrate just being able to get up on that radiation table each day. Maybe I will celebrate by going commando tomorrow …