My Journey

Heaven Is In Awe

2007-07-15T10:24:00.000-05:00

Brian started this blog to keep everyone in touch with his greatest challenge in life. He called it his Journey and it has truly been a Journey not only for Brian but his family and friends. The internet not only allowed him to share with everyone the ups and downs of this battle but was a mission for God to continue the ministry of his strong belief and a legacy for his two daughters in the form of a book. Anyone that had the privilege of reading the creative compositions that came from Brian felt the urgency to pass them on to someone else. It's amazing how many times it was said that Brian's choice of careers could have been one of many including writer, sports commentator and even a minister. Yesterday was sunny, cool with the slightest of breeze. It began early for those that have been at Brian's side everyday for the past few weeks - his wife, children and parents. Several calls are made and the house begins to fill with those that are closest and have stood by and come to realize what impact one person can make on so many lives. We've all read of such people, but to actually have had a person of this magnitude in your life mixes up some emotions that may have been hidden. Emotions were everywhere yesterday. Tears, laughter, memories, stories, and lots, and lots of hugs all to the beat of Jimmy Buffet and Michael Buble (Brian's favorite music). Folks moved from room to room, inside, outside but each one eventually ended up at the sofa where Brian has slept for the past few weeks. Taking turns on one end of the sofa rubbing his feet or on the floor holding his hand - ways that Brian would know "hey guy we're here with you". Kisses were abundant for this handsome young man that everyone is drawn to on a day that we all have come to realize will be the end of the Journey. Brian began his newest Journey, one that we all hope to take some day at approximately 5:45 PM,. Everyone was close by and Brian was at peace knowing he was loved by all that knew him. He was a strong individual that accepted this Journey and decided how it should be remembered. A Celebration of Life will be held in his honor on Saturday, July 21st, 2007 at 3:00 followed by fellowship with family and friends. Scriptures and music were all selected in detail by Brian and Kimberly right down to the request that beach attire is expected and no black allowed. Brian loved people and looked for any opportunity to have a party going on with friends and food so what better way to remember his being than with all that meant the most to him. Kimberly, Breanne, Brooke, Dick, Nadine, Larry and Brad want to thank those that took time out of their day to read Brian's Blog. It came to be a part of so many peoples day and something to look forward to in the form of a book. Keep the family in your thoughts and prayers and remember that we were blessed to have had him but Heaven is in Awe at what it has received.

"If there is anything I can do to help..."

2007-07-13T09:48:00.000-05:00

I cannot begin to tell you how many times in one day I hear that question. And you know what? I never grow tired of hearing it. This whole journey has helped me to fully understand the compassion and humanity of the human race. I am amazed at the help and support our family has received from so many people, some of whom we don't even know. A heart felt thank you to you all.

One of the devasting aspects of cancer is the financial toll it puts on a family. Even with insurance, there are co-pays, deductibles, expenses not covered, etc. Needless to say, one area that we have "robbed" is our children's college funds. Long story short, we have had many people ask us to create a charitable fund. This account is in leiu of sending cards, flowers etc.

The fund is entitled "Breanne & Brooke's Future" and you can make a donation at any Wachovia bank. If they question where the original account is set up, it's the Bridford Parkway location in Greensboro, NC. I feel somewhat guilty doing this. So many of you have been so generous to our family over the last year and we are grateful for this. But the bottom line is I have lost my ability to be there for my family and it really grinds at me that I cannot go out and give them the things they need in life.

Should you have any questions, please don't hesitate to send me an email or post a comment on the blog. I thank God everyday for putting folks like you in my life!

Till next time, Brian....

Behind every great man...

2007-07-13T09:28:00.000-05:00

Is a great woman, and boy have I come to realize that in a huge way over the past few months. Read on.

We started dating in April 1980 (27 years ago; yikes!) and were married in September of 1984. Like many marriages, we've had our ups and downs, but somehow we always managed to make it through the tough times to once again enjoy the good times. And then comes something like cancer, an event that forever and dramatically changes the fabric of your relationship. Many crumble simply due to the stress of it all. Thank God our marriage is even stronger, and that is due in large part to my wife.

To fully understand what I am saying, you would have to spend a day in our home. I have become housebound. I sleep on the sofa in the den. I don't get off the sofa unless I have to go to the bathroom. My physical capacity and ability to do anything is next to nil. (Thank God the mind is still sharp!) This is where Kimberly really begins to shine. Not only does she wait on me hand and foot, but she does so with a smile and a laugh. Her energy level is somewhere around a 15 on a 10 point scale. She would make the Energizer Bunny look like it's stuck in neutral!

So, heres to you sweetheart! Lift a glass of wine and make a toast - to the most wonderful woman God could have ever given me. Saluda!

Till next time, Brian.....

More pictures from Florida...

2007-07-02T11:59:00.001-05:00

Food was an intregral part of our vacation. Brooke got the opportunity to meet with the Hard Rock's pastry chef, and if was all out room service from there. Once again, rock start treatment! This was a breakfast spread the day of our departure, and there was enough food for a dozen people!

The fountain in front of the the Hard Rock is made of bronze guitars...pretty cool.

Blue Man Group! What a great live performance! This is our third time seeing them.

Till next time, Brian...

Orlando here we come...

2007-06-18T21:15:00.000-05:00

We made it! Through the generosity of others we were able to fly on a private jet to Orlando. A limo was waiting for us right beside the jet when we landed and then we were off to the Hard Rock Hotel. Man could I get used to this kind of treatment. Rock star baby! We are having a blast at our "home away from home". The weather has been perfect. Stay tuned for more updates. We are blessed.

Till next time, Brian...

(click on the pictures for a larger image)

Another amazing answer to prayer....

2007-06-14T15:57:00.000-05:00

We've had a family vacation scheduled for several months now, obviously contingent on my health and the ability to travel. Plus we all realize this vacation will be the last hooray, the last family vacation as a complete family. So we started lining everything up - 7 nights on the Club Level at the Hard Rock Hotel Orlando, our favorite summer destination for many years now. Some people ask us why we keep going back to the same place over and over, why not try something different? The only quick way to answer that is when you are a repeat customer at a place like the Hard Rock, there are LOT'S of perks that go along with the stay. We definitely get the rock star treatment. Next we lined up the airline tickets, rental car, etc. So about a month ago we had everything in place. However, there was a lingering concern in my mind that I didn't dare share with anyone. The kids and Kimberly are SO excited about going, and I had it in my mind that I was flying down there come heck or high water. But the concern stuck in my mind - we are flying commercial with layovers in Charlotte. The plane ride doesn't bother me, but the thought of getting stuck for hours in an airport due to something like a weather delay really bothered me. Remember I am wheelchair bound and even sitting up in a wheelchair for an extended period of time is difficult. Thoughts of me being wheeled into an ambulance due to exhaustion (or whatever) kept popping up in my brain.

So what does a guy do? I want this vacation for my family but I also don't want to create some type of travel nightmare that would ruin the vacation. I did the only thing I could think of and that was pray. I prayed to God to let me know if I should just cancel the vacation and stay home, or, God give me some kind of sign that I can and should make this trip. I prayed for weeks with no real answer either way.

As a part of our pre-vacation planning, I made a visit to my oncologist last Friday to make sure he thought I was okay to travel. Everything checked out well, and then he asked a question. "Are you flying commercial" Yes I answered, with layovers in Charlotte both ways. "That's no good. Why not fly on a private jet?" Well DUH, yes I would love to but I cannot afford that. "Let me check my resources and get back to you". At this point I had no idea what he was up to.

Well, long story short, within the next 4 hours we were scheduled to fly on a private jet from Greensboro to Orlando! Evidently my oncologist has a friend whose company has their own jet and they donated it for us to fly to and from Orlando. Is that amazing or what?!?! It never ceases to amaze me or surprise me when I submit to God, ask for his help, and wait. I'm so glad I quit fighting him years ago and gave it all to him. Amen.

So this kind of changed things a little. A rental car, fuel, and parking for the rental car would cost about the same as having a stretch limo take us to and from the airport to the hotel. So....cancel the rental car and let's go limo! We are going to have dinner at one of Emeril's restaurants at Universal on Fathers Day, we'll catch the Blue Man Group one night, cabana rentals by the pool. I can't wait! I literally have had nothing to really look forward to for months now, so I am really pumped up about this trip. We will post pictures while on vacation so stay tuned.

Okay, enough for now. Godspeed to you all. Till next time, B.....

I lost my man card....

2007-06-14T15:52:00.000-05:00

Well, when you have a wife, 2 beautiful daughters, and 2 female pugs, you tend to lose the man card from time to time. I think I have lost mine permanently. The girls gave me a pedicure complete the purple sparkly toenail polish. I have to admit I think it looks rather trendy. Yee Ha!!!

Now THIS was interesting...

2007-06-12T10:37:00.000-05:00

Traveling outside the house is difficult for me now, so I thought I would attempt to give myself a haircut with my mother's assistance. Long story short, my dad ended up taking me to Great Clips. No more bathtub haircuts for this kid!

Simple pleasures...

2007-06-12T10:19:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago I was in bed by myself when my almost 82 year old dad crawled in bed beside me and simply took my hand and held it. No words, just love. I am so blessed.

We later shared a bowl of chocolate ice cream. Life is so good.....

Give me some oxygen, PLEASE….

2007-05-20T10:07:00.000-05:00

Well, it has taken a couple of weeks to write this post. The emotions and the tears flowed heavily after my trip to Sloan Kettering. And I also had this cloud of fear constantly over my head. What was the fear about? Telling my kids that I do in fact only have a short time to live. I feared they would break down crying. I imagined them taking the news in a very bad way. Boy was I wrong. Kids are so resilient, plus we have been very open about my prognosis. Both of them had a yes I know response. Both of them understand exactly what is going on and that my time with them is limited. We have worked hard to give our kids the gift of salvation and to know the Lord. Man is it paying off big time.

The outpouring of response from my Preparing to Die post has been overwhelming. I haven’t been able to respond to everyone yet. My lung capacity continues to shrink, making simple conversation a difficult chore. Thank goodness for email and this blog. It is so easy to communicate with everyone via the written word versus having a conversation. This brings me to my next update. My physical ability is so limited now. How so? Walking up a flight of stairs is darn near impossible. I now have to sit on the bottom step, with my back facing the steps, and “rear end” my way up the stairs over a two or three minute process. Walk outside to get the newspaper? Thank goodness my driveway is only about 50 feet long. Run around the house terrorizing the dogs while everyone else laughs? No more. Go hiking with Brookie in the mountains. Unfortunately, those days are gone. Play a round of golf with friends? Never again. This has been one of the difficult mental obstacles to overcome. I have so much time on my hands now, so I tend to sit and think about all the fun stuff I have done in my life. Brooke and I love to go hiking. It is classic daddy/daughter time, plus we both love nature and the outdoors. I can’t do that anymore. Dammit, that thought makes me very angry and sad at the same time. I am being robbed of my ability to enjoy my family. That’s not fair! BINGO! Poor, pitiful me. You selfish idiot. Why can’t you relish the fact that you WERE able to enjoy these things in your life? Do you not understand there are some people who will never go hiking, who will never see a beautiful mountain stream, and never be able to enjoy God’s wonders? Sometimes I feel so stupid. I really do have to work on getting away from the selfish junk and being thankful that God has blessed me in so many ways. The reality angel that sits on my right shoulder can really give it to me sometimes.

Another mental obstacle that I have finally succumbed to is the fact that I need a wheelchair to get around. Truth be told, I simply cannot walk more than 50 feet without getting winded. The wheelchair makes it so much easier to get around, plus it’s a real snazzy new model. Lot’s of bling,ya know? I also got a handicapped placard for my Suburban. Although I may not live to be 90 years old, I sure do feel like it now! I’m also very dependent on oxygen. When your oxygen content in the bloodstream gets below 90% you become oxygen starved. This causes panic, anxiety, disorientation, restlessness, shakyness in my speech, etc. When this happens, I feel like a fish out of water. Panic is the first thing to set in, and then I realize I can’t do anything to help myself. This turns into a very precarious situation resulting in a panicked frenzy. Kimberly will get the oxygen machine turned on and puts the tubing in my nostrils. Then she sets up the morphine nebulizer. Ah yes, the morphine nebulizer. It’s a little machine that takes small amounts of morphine and saline and turns them into a mist, which is then inhaled through a pipe. This is starting to sound like illegal drug activity, eh?!? The morphine calms down the lungs by changing the way it processes oxygen. Simply put, it helps me to breath once again. Lately I have been taking 3-4 morphine treatments a day. The events leading up to the treatments tend to be very frenzied to say the least. Never a dull moment.

I am amazed at how quickly my health is deteriorating. To give you an example, I went to Florida to play golf with some buddies of mine just one month ago. Today, that trip would be impossible. My goal now is to make it to July. We have a family vacation scheduled in June to visit the Hard Rock Hotel in Orlando once again. We love the Hard Rock and we get the rock star treatment every time we go there due to the fact we have gotten to know so many people on staff. Fun stuff and great memories.

I visited the onc this week because one of the hospice nurses thought I have fluid in my lungs. This is not good because it can lead to pneumonia. So my onc called me in for a chest x-ray. There is no fluid, so that’s good news. But man if you could see the x-ray. My lungs are littered with cancerous spots that show up white on the film. How am I even breathing at all? After Kimberly and I left the cancer center, she mentioned am I okay with my decision not to continue chemo. I guess the chemo was keeping the cancer from growing too fast was her comment. It’s funny, I’ve had a lot of advice and opinions from a lot of people on what I should do. Very few are in line with what I have chosen. Allow me to explain. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I made a conscious decision to give everything to God; all my pain, my cancer, my suffering, everything. In return I agreed to be a faithful servant to the Lord and glorify him in all I do. When people offer up their ideas of ways to help “cure” my cancer, I simply smile. Most think I am crazy for not taking their advice. What they don’t understand is I remain steadfast and faithful to my God. He has a plan for me. He has revealed that plan to me over time. He has blessed me in ways I simply cannot comprehend or try to explain. Psalm 55:22 is the best way to explain how I feel.

Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the comments and suggestions of others. It shows compassion and goodwill. I am forever indebted to those who have done so much for me and my family and continue to offer help and assistance. As for me though, I chose to cast my cares on the Lord.

Till next time, Brian….

Preparing to Die...

2007-05-07T13:37:00.000-05:00

Yea, yea, I know…this is a rather harsh title. But you have to understand where I’m at and where I’m coming from as to why I used this title. Read on.

I made my whirlwind trip to Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York City last week. I flew up on Wednesday, had my appointment on Thursday, and flew back home on Friday. This much travel in three short days was pure hell on the body, but the trip was well worth the effort. It was something I needed to do, to get the curiosity out of my system. The purpose of the trip was to get another “set of ears” to review my treatment history and offer up any possible alternatives to add some time to my life. Long story short, the gentleman I met with didn’t really tell me anything I didn’t already know. Don’t get me wrong, he was a compassionate, knowledgeable person who spent a total of two hours dialoging with me. This is obviously a man people are sent to when they call Sloan Kettering looking for help because all else has failed. Throughout our meeting, there was one thing he kept saying that really stuck with me. “We can try this treatment therapy, it may add another two months to your life if it works”…aha, there is the magic phrase; if it works. No one knows for certain if anything will work, and no one can put their thumb on the exact amount of time I have left in my life. No one except God.

On the flight back home, I spent a lot of time reviewing in my mind the appointment at Sloan Kettering. What the doctor said, should I continue treatment or stop it altogether and enjoy a better quality of life, and so on and so on. Then it really began to hit me – you have to begin to prepare for the end. I have thought about this for a long time now, but I never really took action. Now, I must take action. The reality of my situation is I probably have months to live. I don’t see me making it to 2008 to be honest with you. The cancer continues to invade my lungs, making a walk up a flight of stairs seem like a one mile run. I began to think deeper, and the idea hit me that I need to put together a fat, three-ring binder for Kimberly that explains everything that has been my responsibility. Life insurance info, credit card info, bills, even passwords and user names to the web sites we frequently use. All of this stuff is stuck in my brain. I need to do a brain dump and organize it in such a fashion that she will not be struggling to make sense of everything once I’m gone. This makes sense, and it will make her life easier given the difficulty of the situation. A pretty cool idea if you think about it. I get to plan for my death instead of someone who is tragically killed in a car accident for example. They are here one second, gone the next.

Then I picked up a magazine and began to scan the pages, doing something to pass the time on the flight. It was one of these Skymall magazines, advertising all kinds of stuff you can buy. I came across a silver bracelet, with a very simple inscription – Loved. That’s when it hit me. The emotional enormity of my journey hit me like a ton of bricks. I began to cry, uncontrollably. Sitting in the back row of the airplane, I quickly put my sunglasses on and used one of my hands to shield my quivering face. The constant drone of the jet engines helped to stifle the sobs coming from my mouth. I simply could not stop crying. Luckily no one was sitting in the seat beside me. I cried for what seemed like an eternity, until the pilot came on the speaker and announced our final approach into Greensboro. Finally, I was able to gain my composure. I must admit though, it felt good to cry.

As I have said so many times before, I am not afraid of dying. But, I don’t want to leave anytime soon. I keep thinking about my family, my wife and two beautiful daughters. I think about the pain they will suffer up to and after my death. The emotional scars will last a lifetime. It pains me so. But then I begin to think about heaven. I begin to think about how God wants to work through me today to touch others, including my family. It very clearly states in the bible that our days are numbered before we are even born. And then another revelation hit me. My concerns about how my family will react is nothing short of selfishness. Stay with me here. Matthew 6:25-34 is one of my favorite verses in the bible. It is entitled “Do Not Worry”, and here I am worrying about my family and how they will react to my death. That, my friends, is a sin. It is a selfish emotion that is seeded deeply in our own persona, wrapped up in our own self absorbed guilt, and topped with a bow of anguish. It goes directly against what God tells us in Matthew 6. Do Not Worry. Think about it.

So today, Monday, I met with my oncologist here in Greensboro to discuss my trip to Sloan Kettering. After the small talk he asked the obvious question – what are we going to do next? I shrugged my shoulders, took a few seconds to think, and then blurted out “I don’t know!” It seems like I’m damned it I do, damned it I don’t. If I continue treatment, the chemo will beat the hell out of me physically and emotionally. But it may add a few months to my life. If I drop chemo altogether, I will have a better quality of life, but…but…but. Paralysis through analysis. It happens to all of us from time to time, some more than others. I tend to be pretty decisive most of the time. If I see something and it makes sense, then I do it. But now I am faced with decisions that literally impact how long I may be alive. Aha, another magic phrase. How long you may be alive. There are no guarantees my friend. We can analyze things until the cows come home. There are some things that you simply must accept. At church last Sunday, it was announced that our Senior Pastor is stepping down. Burnt out. Been there for 10 years, served the church well, a tremendous growth in membership and programs, you name it. Very successful. However, the mood was quite somber, almost like a funeral. “We will get through these difficult times…” was something many leaders in the church said during the service on Sunday. As I sat there and listened to the dialogue, something caught my eye. Years ago, during a Sunday sermon, I wrote the following in the blank space at the end of 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28. My notes say “God’s sovereign will is frequently the opposite of human nature and what we often expect and want.” BINGO! The congregation wants the pastor to stay. Please don’t leave us!! We love you! The pastor has been burning the candle at both ends, literally giving a portion of his life and sacrificing his family and his marriage to serve the church. As for me, I want to live. I want to watch my kids grow up, get married, and have grandchildren. I will be a GREAT grandfather! I want to be a husband to my wife and enjoy the rest of our life together. ME…ME…ME!!! Stop. Read it again - God’s sovereign will is frequently the opposite of human nature and what we often expect and want. Bingo. It’s God’s will, not ours. It’s God’s plan, not ours. It’s God timing, not ours. We are a selfish society driven by self-centeredness and the need to have it now. How sad is that? We have lost focus of what is important in this world. How sad. After the sermon on Sunday, the pastor and his wife went to the gym to accept well wishes from the congregation. He was so worried about the congregation feeling abandoned, like an athlete retiring at the peak of his or her game. People were in tears. He was in tears. Why I thought? This man has nothing to be ashamed of. I looked at Pastor Bill, gave him a big hug, and said “I have a different word for you. How EXCITING!” Sometimes we have to embrace the good and ignore the typical human emotion. Bill feels God is calling him to begin another chapter in his life, to better serve the Lord. I feel God calling me home, saying “Job well done, good and faithful servant…” Get off this “poor me” train and jump on a more positive means of transportation. This is something I am reminding myself of, right this very minute. Believe me, I know it’s tough my friend.

In closing, I am going to share a verse with you, once again from the sermon last Sunday. It is from 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12. It reads “With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Second Thessalonians was written by the apostle Paul, the second letter to the church in Thessalonica. It was written to clarify points misunderstood in his first letter (First Thessalonians). While he assured the Thessalonians that Christ would eventually return and set the world aright, he emphasized focusing on the present. As you read this scripture, be hopeful about what God has in store for your future, but concentrate on living and working with what he has given you for today.

Till next time, Brian….

In the wake of tragedy...

2007-04-24T20:25:00.000-05:00

How do you explain what happened on the Virginia Tech campus? When tragedy strikes we all ask this question along with many other questions, all starting with why? I found some answers appropriately enough from the pastor of our church. The following is compliments of Bill Simpson, Senior Pastor at Community Bible Church in High Point, NC. Check this out:

God will bring about good from these senseless murders. He will strengthen his people and draw the lost and hopeless to faith in Jesus. We can pray. We can also assure our kids and our friends and co-workers that there is no guarantee we’ll be protected from such acts of violence. Our hope is in a good God, who is always good, who always has our best in mind and he alone is in absolute control of our world and our very lives.

He reminds us that our days on earth were numbered by him personally before we were even born (Psalm 139:13-16). He alone is our hope in hardship, grief, temptation, depression and the uncertainties of life (Psalm 25; 143 & Lamentations 3:19-33). We are commanded not to live in fear but to trust our God, the One who measures the cosmos with the span of his hand and whose love for us is unfailing (Isaiah 44:2 ; John 6:35-40 & Philippians 4:4-7). So we mourn and we move on in hope. We remember our days are uncertain and hopefully, tragedies like this one help us to seize each day to live it in Christ. I know I have today, right now. I’m not sure about tomorrow.

Bill really hit home in one area for me personally in regards to my battle with cancer. That is from Psalm 139:13-16. It reads "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

Read the last line again. The above scripture speaks to the sanctity of human life. God knows us. We cannot surprise him. Nothing we have done or will do can catch him off guard. However, he will never let go of us. For many of us, we can get caught up in the why. If we continue to ask those questions over and over again it will lead to an insurmountable level of stress and anxiety. As for me, I have never asked God why do I have cancer? Instead, I ask him what I can do today and every day to make the world a better place. What can I do to make one person have a better day today than they did yesterday? This is a constant challenge, but one that I must admit I do enjoy taking on each and every day.

Have you ever heard the saying Let go and let God? Putting your complete and absolute faith in our creator is a tough concept for some of us. We have never seen God; how do we trust him? The bible is the instruction book for life. Unfortunately some choose not to read it. Remember - the choice is yours.

God bless you all. Till next time, Brian....

This is a good story...

2007-04-15T13:26:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine emailed this to me today. It's well worth posting it here and reminding us all about God's plan in our life. Read on...

Two Traveling Angels

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had, the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field. The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel how could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him, she accused. The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die. "Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it."

"Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You just might not know it until some time later.

Till next time, Brian....

A call for prayer…

2007-04-14T20:01:00.000-05:00

Another call for prayer; why you may ask? Allow me to explain.

About a week ago I was faced with a rather strong paradox, a dilemma that I have been struggling with for some time now. Last Thursday I was supposed to go in for my routine treatment. It has been 4 weeks since my last treatment due to our vacation last week. The cancer is continuing to spread and I’m not feeling any better. If anything, I feel worse – much worse. The combination of the cancer, the chemo, and all the drugs I take has my body feeling like a train wreck. Fatigue, pain, lack of appetite, loss of weight – you name it, I’m struggling with it. I continue to benchmark my current condition against where I was 6 months to a year ago. Six months ago I had just returned from Houston and I was dreadfully depressed but I wasn’t as bad as I am now. A year ago I was rather fat and happy (and I mean fat literally; I have since lost 30+ pounds). Today I look at myself in the mirror and it scares me. My cheeks are shallow and my body in dangerously below a normal weight. Even when I do eat a bunch of carbs and fat, I don’t gain any weight. I am a mess, simply put.

Anyhow, I have debated what I should do about treatment for over a month now. My first thoughts back in March were “I’m taking the entire month of April off (from treatment). We have family vacation Easter week, a golf trip to Florida 2 weeks after that, and I want to spend some time with my brothers on the golf course in Hickory soon thereafter.” Plus, my body simply needed a break from chemo. The cumulative affects on the body are not pretty. Then the thought of my ever-progressing cancer pops into my brain and I quickly realize that even though the chemo is not eradicating the cancer it may be holding the cancer at bay, keeping it from spreading like wild fire. I feel like I am slowly slipping into an abyss. The cancer is winning the battle and the way it looks right now I am losing the war. Before you tell me “keep your chin up and keep fighting” you must consider my condition. There are days that I can barely get out of bed. The combination of the fatigue and the pain can really take the fight out of me. I can’t take a deep breath anymore because the cancer has invaded the entire lower area of my lungs. I have these coughing fits 2 or 3 times a day that make me feel like I’m going to die right then and there. I feel like I’m in the middle of a field with snipers all around me; I can’t escape and they keep firing at me at will. Sometimes I want to just lie down and have the Lord take me home. Believe me, it is that tough.

There is also another twist in the story. I have just been given an appointment to visit an oncologist at Sloan Kettering in New York City. I’ve been considering this for some time now, and I finally put the ball in motion back in March. My current treatment cocktail is not cutting it. This is where the paradox came from over a month ago. Do I continue doing the same thing and feeling like crap, or do I stop treatment altogether and try to get a second opinion? The latter statement came to fruition when I finally got through all the red tape and insurance mess to get an appointment at Sloan Kettering. The appointment will last 1-2 hours and will thoroughly go through my entire treatment regimen, my current condition, and possible changes we can make to future treatments. OR – do I quit chemo completely and live out the rest of my life feeling better than I do now? Man what a dilemma. The way I feel right now, there is no way I will be alive 2 years from now. I know that sounds harsh, but the reality of the situation is I don’t have a long time to live given my current condition and the steady progression of my cancer.

So, I ask that you pray for God’s will. I ask that pray for His peace, grace, and mercy for my family and me as we continue to face the decisions of a lifetime. I am not nervous or anxious. I don’t fear my situation or the possibility of dying. But I am concerned about the affects my death will have on my family. No one wants to lose a loved one.

Godspeed to you all. Till next time, Brian…

Pictures from Emerald Isle...

2007-04-05T08:46:00.000-05:00

Man what a beautiful place...I may never return home. THIS is my new home...

In the picture of the house, the upper right corner that has an open window, this is what I call the crow's nest. It's a little room with a chaise lounge and a rocking chair, and spectacular views of the ocean and surrounding community. How lucky we are to enjoy this place.

Paradise...for a week...

2007-04-02T06:42:00.000-05:00

We have finally arrived at our destination for the week, a huge house in Emerald Isle, NC. This place is FANTASTIC! What a wonderful change of pace from the day in and day out routine. I woke up this morning and watched the sunrise from the observation area above the kitchen which is on the 3rd floor. Take a look at this place, it's amazing!

http://www.spinnakersreach.com/vrmgr/rental/PropertyDisplay.aspx?PropertyId=60&WebCode=all&ReturnPath=/vrmgr/search/WebGroupListAll.aspx

I'll be posting some pictures later this week. We have a lot of family and friends that are staying with us this week, so it should be fun.

Till next time, B...

Quick update...

2007-03-22T11:54:00.000-05:00

A trip this morning to the onc for a simple follow up turned into a pretty deep discussion about my most recent CT scan from my episode last week. Turns out the spots in my lungs are turning "confluent" meaning you cannot tell where one ends and the other begins. This is obviously the source of the consistent cough, and I've felt the spread of the cancer for some time now so it wasn't a big surprise to hear the news. I'm pursuing some different options right now so we'll see how everything pans out. Keep the prayers a comin'....

A Painful Second Anniversary…

2007-03-21T05:41:00.000-05:00

I woke up Thursday morning of last week with a cloud of dread over my head like a college student on the first day of final exams. I had chemo later that morning, and as I have said before I simply abhor chemo, I hate it, it sucks. And as usual I started my day with my typical routine; coughing until my lungs felt like they were going to explode, blowing massive amounts of mucus out of my nose (hey I know it’s gross but it’s my world, eh?), and feeling like a truck had hit me only 20 minutes into my day. After my coughing fit I sat down and noticed a strike of pain in my left rib cage. I blew it off as yet another pain (more on pain later in this post) and struggled to get up and start moving. Later that morning during chemo I noticed the pain had increased noticeably, and a muscle spasm had erupted in my left shoulder. The chemo nurse kept asking me if I was okay, given the constant grimace on my face. “I’m okay, just a little muscle pain” was my response. Fast forward to about 10:30 Thursday evening. The pain had become unbearable. Every breath I took felt like a knife was stabbing me in the ribs. Any movement caused both my ribs and my shoulder to explode with pain. I couldn’t sit, stand, or lay down to ease the pain. So….off we go once again to the Emergency room at our local hospital. By the time we got there I was doubled over in pain while sitting in a wheelchair. Long story short, they did x-rays and a chest CT scan on me and found no broken ribs or blood clots. Good news, but the pain persisted. They sent me home at 5AM with some drugs and a wish for good luck and feel better soon. Whatever.

Two years ago last Saturday was my second anniversary for my colectomy surgery. At that time, I had absolutely no clue what the future had in store for me. The recovery time in the hospital was by far the most painful experience of my life (see some of the first posts below). Little did I know what I was going to endure for a solid two years – pain, and a lot of it. I have literally lived with pain for 730+ days and counting. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain, my typical days are a 3-5 on the scale. Annoying little pains to moderate pains that slow you down. Then there are the 90-120 day stretches where my daily pain index is a 7-10. I hurt everywhere. Why? Chemo. It ravages the body, killing everything in its path. The problem is it kills the good stuff too. To give you an example, for a few days after chemo it hurts my mouth and lips to simply brush my teeth. The toothpaste burns. Last night we ordered pizza, and a single slice of pepperoni pizza set my mouth and stomach on fire. Dammit, I hate chemo. My little adventure last week was definitely a 10+ on the pain scale, and it lasted for days non-stop. There are times when the pain is so bad that I find myself talking to God, asking Him to please end the pain and suffering and simply take me home. As I have documented many times in the past, I don’t want to die but there are times when death seems like a better alternative than what I’m going through at the time. Be careful to pass judgment on me; until you have walked in my shoes you really don’t know what it is like to endure this wicked journey. Faith pulls me through again and again.

Well, I’ve been up since 5AM this morning due to pain, of course. It’s now 6:40 and time to get the kids up and start a new day. I am thankful that I can share this journey with so many of you, and to all of you that keep asking – yes, a book is in the works. I guess all I have to do is copy and paste my blog! Godspeed to you all.
Till next time, Brian…

212 Degrees....

2007-02-28T09:20:00.000-05:00

This is an awesome, 3 minute online video. Very inspiring.

http://www.walkthetalk.com/the212movie.php?refsource=vm212mrp1

Enjoy. Till next time, B....

Feeling better...

2007-02-27T09:54:00.000-05:00

Well, for the first time in literally months I am feeling much better. I am amazed at how something as simple as how you feel has tremendous impact on your overall viewpoint. When you feel bad, for MONTHS, you really get run down emotionally, psychologically, and obviously physically. I'm still dealing with a few side affects from chemo, but they are much more manageable than, say, a year ago. Thank God.

I had lunch yesterday with several former co-workers. I left this company back in 2000, so it's been many years since we all worked together. It was so much fun getting together and sharing stories from both the present and the past. Events like this make you cherish the relationships you have with others. People come and go in our lives, but some folks have a lasting impact and for this we should all be very grateful. I know I am.

I'm going to share a quick story with you. A few nights ago I was putting our 12 year old to bed, and as usual I ended up laying down with her to help her fall asleep. I tend to use these quiet moments as my quiet time, praying. I started out with my usual "thank you lord for a wonderful day and your many blessings on me and my family." Then out of nowhere I asked "how is Ansley doing?" (read blog entry below) All of a sudden, I had this inner feeling of joy and peacefulness. This was coupled with a mind's eye view of a bright and beautiful light, then an image of Ansley's smiling face. God was speaking to me, very clearly. It's amazing the response you get when you talk to God and listen quietly. I had this image of pure perfection in my mind. I then saw Ansley with angel wings on and, once again, smiling a big smile and simply enjoying the beautiful place we call heaven. It was awesome.

I'll close with a funny little tidbit I heard on TV this past Sunday. The preacher on TV told a story about a man who was begging God in prayer, his life is shambles. "God PLEASE help me, I cannot do this anymore, my life is so troubled. Why do you do this to me?" God responded, "my child, I send troubles your way so you will talk to me from time to time." The congregation erupted in laughter, just as I did. Man does this exchange tell it all. When we are troubled, stressed out, hyperventilating, we turn to God and scream HELP! What's wrong with that? Well, think of it this way. If a friend only talks to another friend when they are in trouble, there is little value in the relationship. The troubled person is using the other to simply satisfy there own emotions. You have to give to get. Plain and simple.

Till next time, B....

Another painful loss but a gain for heaven...

2007-02-18T20:53:00.001-05:00

I first met Ansley at church well over a year ago. I was just coming off my diagnosis and beginning treatment. Through friends at church I was introduced to Ansley and we had an immediate connection via our fight with cancer. She was very interested in how I was doing, and was obviously a faithful, unselfish person. She had been battling cancer for a couple of years, and I was surprised at how well she looked, very healthy. At the time I silently guessed her age in the mid thirties, too young to have cancer I thought. I explained my situation, then looked into her eyes and asked "what is your prognosis?" My question was met with a decidedly changed emotion; she simply pursed her lips, dropped her head, and began to shake her head "no" without saying a word. I will never forget that encounter.

Ansley went home to be with the Lord last Tuesday. She has entered into the visual presence of our creator, and I must admit I am a bit envious. I know, I know, you should never wish your life away. But when you've gone through what I've been through, well, some days you just feel like throwing in the towel. Ansley was 39, a wife and mother of 2 small children. A celebration of life service was held at our church on Saturday, and I have never seen so many cars at our church in the 2 short years we have attended CBC. Ansley was obviously a loved and respected person because the church was packed, standing room only and I am talking about the entire facility, not just the sanctuary. The service was wonderful, the mood was certainly painful but at times funny and upbeat. It was, in my opinion, a wonderful way to show your last respects to a person who possessed a tremendous faith strength. Three folks that were close friends of Ansley spoke about how their lives were touched in an extraordinary way by a person whose faith went well beyond the ordinary. To give you an idea of how strong she was, she would ask the doctors "how are YOU doing and how can I pray for you?" This said in the face of adversity and during the challenges of treatment. Think about the last time you went to a doctor. Usually the doc asks "how are you doing and what is wrong?" When is the last time you approached your doc the way Ansley did? In my case, never. Another example of how we can improve our faith by simply asking instead of being consumed by our on situation. Think about it.

Treatment last week was postponed another week due to the fact that I am simply worn out. Chemo is taking a rather brutal toll on parts of my body. For example, the skin on my hands continues to peel off in the same areas every 2 weeks. When I'm on chemo these areas hurt so much I can't even button a shirt. Ah yes, the joy of treatment. It looks like I will be on an every 3 weeks treatment schedule for a while, allowing my body an extra week to heal prior to the next "zapping".

In closing, take the time to consume the following poem, written by an anonymous 17th century Puritan who most certainly experienced great amounts of opposition, persecution, and unwarranted suffering at the hands of ungodly men. The poem is entitled The Valley of Vision.

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,

Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,

where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;

hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox

that the way down is the way up,

that to be low is to be high,

that the broken heart is the healed heart,

that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,

that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,

that to have nothing is to possess all,

that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,

that to give is to receive,

that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,

and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;

Let me find thy light in my darkness,

thy life in my death,

thy joy in my sorrow,

thy grace in my sin,

thy riches in my poverty,

thy glory in my valley.

We all face challenges in our lives. Life is difficult at best, and at times can be very painful. We are born sinners in a sinful world. You must place your faith in Jesus and He will light your path and help you on your way. We live in a society of "I have to have it now and it has to be better than what my neighbor has..." How ridiculous. Be thankful for the blessings you already have. When (if) you go to heaven, God doesn't judge you by the home you lived in or the car you drove or the clothes you wore. He judges you by asking did you give shelter to those in need, did you offer help to those who could not get to where they needed to be, and did you take the shirt off your own back and give it to someone who had nothing to wear? Tough questions that we all should take seriously as we examine who we are. Okay, enough preaching for today. Have a great week and don't forget to tell the one's you love that you love them and give them a hug. You never know when it will your last. I hugged Ansley the last time I saw her about 2 weeks ago. How priviledged I am to be able to savor that moment. Godspeed to you all.

Till next time, Brian....

A time of reflection…

2007-02-05T22:40:00.000-05:00

Hello once again to everyone in virtual Bloggerville. I know it’s been a long time since my last update; there are good reasons behind this, read on for the details.

If you will recall, I came home from Houston on Halloween, October 31st. Ever since then I have felt worse than I ever have during this whole ordeal. Is this attributed to the clinical drug I was on? Who knows, but I can tell you this – for over 2 months now I have simply felt bad. No energy plus the garden variety of side affects from chemo has me feeling like I’ve been hit by the “train of feeling no good”. I’m not used to feeling this way. I’m not productive, I certainly can’t do anything physical because I simply do not have the strength and I’m terribly out of shape. I ended up in the hospital right before Christmas, and until recently I really didn’t know the severity of my condition back in December. My white blood cell count was down to 0.7; 3.0 is the low end of acceptable. Anything below 3 is not good. Your body cannot fight off the bad bacteria and it puts you at great risk for infection or even worse. Some of you may wonder “how in the world could you not realize the severity of your situation?” Understand, when I walked into the cancer center the day they admitted me into the hospital, I could barely walk and I refused a wheelchair because of stubborn pride or whatever. I was almost completely out of it. When the nurses saw my lab results they started talking with great motivation and followed every sentence with STAT. I was not in good shape.

The new year brought hopes of a new start. Then the news of another loss to cancer started working on my brain. Benny Parsons, a former NASCAR driver turned announcer, lost his life to cancer. BP was diagnosed last summer with lung cancer, a terribly aggressive form of cancer. He maintained nothing but pure optimism during his battle with cancer, and vowed to come back cured and ready for the 2007 season. He was actually told he was cured in the fall, only to have problems in the non-cancerous lung pop up a month or two later. He was put into a coma the day after Christmas and died a couple of weeks later. I didn’t know Benny personally, but as a fellow cancer patient you feel like you know the person intimately regarding their battle. Then your brain starts the deadly process of analyzing your own condition; how am I? Worse? Better? Which way do I feel I’m going? Worse? Better? How much time do I have left to live? This ends up becoming a battle between concern and reality, and there is no winner.

The death of Benny Parsons was followed last week with the untimely and sudden death of a former co-worker who was only 50 years old. Tom Zaliagaris was a star basketball player under Dean Smith at UNC back in the mid and late 70’s. He went on to a very successful career in the furniture industry, where we got to know each other. Tom was a charismatic type; he could walk into a room and command attention. His tall stature and handsome good looks made heads turn. The truth be told, Tom was just another guy that you really enjoyed being around. Anyhow, he started feeling bad a couple of Saturday’s ago and long story short he was dead by Monday morning. A staph infection had taken over his body and simply killed him in a quick and staggering manner. Ironically, his cause of death was identical to what killed my mother-in-law some 10 or 12 years ago. She was about the same age as Zal and her death was just as sudden and unexpected. Painful stuff.

So, I go thru the brain battle once again. Is the cancer going to kill me? If not, the chemo damn sure will all kidding aside. How much time do I have left? Stop it; there is no winner in this game, period. But – when you have cancer these questions tend to raise their ugly head more often than not. Not matter how optimistic I am, the reality of the situation is I have cancer and I may die from it – soon. Going back to my opening comments, I haven’t felt well in a long time. I tend to benchmark how I feel today versus how I felt a year ago. This time last year I was feeling GREAT. I had energy, I could do a fair amount of physical activities, and I was optimistic about my prognosis. Now, today, I’m not doing as well as I was a year ago. Does this mean I’m slowly slipping into the grave? Dammit, I just don’t know and THAT is the rub of the whole situation. Uncertainty due to the inability to see into the future equals frustration (or even worse for some folks). Cancer sucks.

As I contemplate my situation, I’m beginning to realize my viewpoint on death is ever changing and evolving. For many people, death equals terrible fear. As for me, I don’t fear death anymore. I don’t want to die, but if God determines that my time is up I’m going home to heaven and I will enjoy eternity in a perfect world. I think a lot about heaven - pure, vivid colors unknown to those of us on earth; a place where the streets are paved with gold; a place where there is no suffering, no pain, no disease, no fear, no anxiety, no sin. When you look at the afterlife in this light, you begin to think “why do I not want to go to heaven, now!?” Obviously there are good reasons; a wife and kids, an extended family, friends, you name it. I have the love and support of so many people around me that I cannot even begin to explain it. For this I am eternally grateful, I am blessed. But then I begin to think once again about my situation. Not only have I felt bad for months, I endure physical pain on a daily basis. Some days it’s manageable. On other days the pain is so severe that I can’t even function. The details on the source of the pain isn’t important. The fact is pain is almost as bad as chemo, they must be twin brothers born from a mean ugly mother. Pain wears you down physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Sometimes I sit with my head in my hands, thinking it can’t get any worse. Then it does get worse, or a whole new problem erupts and slaps me against the face once again. How do you describe this? It isn’t a roller coaster. It’s a constant. Some nights I can’t sleep. Some days I can’t get out of bed. Then there are days where I wake up feeling well, go to work, and get hit by the “pain bus” at some point in the day. When the bus hits you, you’re done - period. The question is how long do I have to drive to get back home? If I’m an hour and a half away from home, I in serious trouble. The really tough part of this whole scenario is that I have been in pain for a solid two months now. I’m not talking about paper cuts or a mouth sore. Unfortunately, it is much more severe. Cancer sucks.

So out of all this, where I am at right now? Easy answer. This Sunday in church our pastor delivered a sermon that really caught my attention. The sermon was based on James chapter 2, Faith and Deeds. Verse 24 reads “You see that a person is justified by what he does and not by faith alone”. This was the verse in the entire sermon that hit me hard. I’ve always told people my faith is strong, I believe God has a plan for me and it’s big. But when I read verse 24, I realized my actions are where God is testing me. What do I mean by this? PMA – Positive Mental Attitude. I have to maintain focus on being a faithful steward of the Lord’s word, and I need to do so in an uplifting and motivated manner. Is this tough to do when you feel like crap from chemo? Damn right it is. But guess what – you have to dig down deep inside and find that thread of hope that will pull you through the situation you are in at the moment – me included. We all have to maintain hope or we become desperate and out of control. Saying you have faith is hogwash unless you back it up with action. Something to think about.

Well, it’s time for a big bowl of fattening ice cream and then off to bed. Hey, I have to gain some of the weight I have lost over the last 2+ months, so ice cream late at night is the cure. Till next time, Brian…

Happy New Year!

2006-12-30T09:05:00.000-05:00

My mother always told me "don't wish your life away". With all due respect, I'm glad to see 2006 coming to an end. It's been a tough year, but my hopes are high for a healthy and prosperous 2007.

Still been feeling kind of run down lately. Apparently I've had a virus on top of everything else, and since my body is so wrecked from the chemo it can't heal as quickly as it normally would. Regardless, I'm moving forward.

Wishing everyone a very happy new year, filled with good health and good times.

Till next time, Brian....

Another challenge....

2006-12-22T02:21:00.000-05:00

As I sit at home typing this latest blog entry, it's 2:30AM. Why am I up so late on a Thursday night/Friday morning? I just got out of the hospital Thursday evening after a 3 day stint. Man, I tell you what, my life is NEVER boring. I've been feeling pretty run down for several weeks now, thinking there was something like a virus making me feel worn out, this on top of the regular stuff you deal with on chemo. Well, Monday night I started feeling really bad, and by Tuesday AM I literally could barely walk. Kimberly took me to the onc, who promptly admitted me to the hospital. Turns out my white cell counts were dangerously low (0.7), making me a walking time bomb for infection. They did a battery of tests on me while I was in the hospital, making sure there wasn't some type of bacterial infection. Everything came back negative, thank God. They pumped me full of fluids, I enjoyed some decent inpatient meals, and did nothing but rest. Originally my doc told me I would be in the hospital for 5 or 6 days. Doing some quick math made me realize I could be there on Christmas eve. No way, period. Through the grace of God and modern medicine, I was out of there in 3 days.

My "sleep clock" is all whacked out right now. I've basically been sleeping in 2 hours segments for 3 days. There are constant interruptions in the hospital, and the bed is a bit less than comfortable. Regardless, I so enjoy being home.

Happy holidays to everyone in blogger-land. I wish you the best for 2007.

Till next time, Brian...

Spoke too soon...

2006-12-04T10:13:00.000-05:00

Well, in typical fashion I put my foot in my mouth after last week's post. Thursday night I started feeling crappy (once again) and by Friday I was "hit by the bus" again. Complete fatigue, a fever, an infected port, yadda yadda yadda. I feel like the merry-go-round of pain and suffering simply will not stop and LET ME OFF! Oh well, along rolls Monday morning and I'm feeling fine once again. Which brings me to a comment I made to my wife yesterday. I want my old life back. I long for waking up on Monday morning and going to work and being productive. I want to come home, have dinner with my family, and do something fun with my kids. I want to finish long forgotten household projects that have not only been taken off the burner, they've been lost in the process. For all of you that hate Monday mornings and the dread of going back to work, rethink your thinking. Do not take your good health for granted.

Okay, I'm going to do something productive today and actually work. I love it.

Till next time, Brian...

Ever wonder who God is?

2006-11-30T12:30:00.000-05:00

http://www.sermonspice.com/videos/114/thats-my-king/

Copy and paste this link into your web browser for one of the best sermon pieces I've ever heard attempting to describe God, it is simply awesome. Turn up the volume and enjoy...

Amazing...

2006-11-30T09:46:00.000-05:00

For the first time in over a year and half taking chemo, I am "alive" the day after a full treatment. I thought the adjacent picture would give a visual description of how I feel. Amazing...

Thanksgiving 2006

2006-11-29T09:58:00.000-05:00

The photo was taken in Boone last week during Thanksgiving holiday. We enjoy the mountains so much! The time away was refreshing to say the least.

A quick update...today I am in for round #2 of chemo since my return from Houston. After round #3 in two weeks I'll get scans and hope for progress. Keep the prayers a comin'!

I've been feeling much better lately, which is kind of wierd. You don't expect to feel better following a round of chemo; maybe it's working and the tumors are subsiding ??? As I've said before, you hope for the best and expect the worst.

Till next time...B.

I see way too much of this lately...

2006-10-31T03:36:00.000-05:00

You get three guesses what this is - and the first two guesses don't count...

Me and my girls...

2006-10-31T03:32:00.000-05:00

This photo was taken on September 30 at the Appalachian homecoming pre-game party. It was a beautiful day and I was lucky to have two of the most beautiful kids in the world with me. Ain't life grand?

Another sleepless night….

2006-10-31T03:29:00.000-05:00

It is now 1:30AM and I have been trying to fall asleep for over two hours now. Believe it or not, when I got to bed each night I “write” in my mind. I have so much information stored up in my brain that it would fill hundreds of pages of text. I will be grateful for the day that all of it gets put into this laptop and out of my brain. I would be so lucky.

Today was, unfortunately, another bombshell day for yours truly. To be honest, I have had this feeling in my gut for a couple of weeks that tells me things are not going as planned, or at least not as hoped. Very rarely is my gut wrong, and almost always is my gut dead on. After waiting close to three hours for my oncologist to show up for my schedule appointment, she walked into the room with four other doctors, none of which I recognized. This was my first clue that something was amiss. After the gratuitous “how are you feeling” questions she told me my latest PET scan showed the cancer continues to spread and they are going to have to take me off the clinical trial immediately. Dammit. What is it going to take to get a thread of good news? She went on to explain the details of the PET scan, none of which I can recall. I was once again uncomfortably numb. She paused for a moment, and then went on to explain that another clinical trial is available for me to participate in. “What are my options” was my next question. “This is it” was basically her response. I got that all too familiar feeling of a balloon slowly loosing its air, like the life is being sucked out of me one breath at a time. To even attempt to describe the feeling is difficult. Depression, shock, hurt? Yes. Anger, fear, anxiety? No, not really. I guess this is God’s way of giving me a little peace in the midst of a fierce storm. I actually just thought of what it feels like to have one of these little “meetings” with the doctor. It feels like you are walking down the street, and you have this uneasy feeling that something isn’t right. The next thing you know – WHAM! – you just got smacked square in the face with a 2x4. You loose your sense of where you are, what you are doing, just what in the hell is going on? This lasts for about a second or two and then reality kicks back in again and you realize you are in one of those “this could be it” conversations. Man, I tell you what, this stuff is exhausting at best. I can only take one of these every six months; unfortunately they are happening more and more often.

I don’t really remember walking back to my car, which was parked almost a half a mile away from the cancer center. I recall little of the drive back to the hotel. Again, the severity of the news sent me into this mind numbing funk that you just don’t want to ever have to witness much less live through. But something snapped in my brain as I was walking up the steps to my hotel room. “If I have (x) months to live, then I’m going to live it to the fullest and I’m going to be thankful for every minute of it.” I quickly realized I cannot mope around in this self inflicted haze and start the “why me” crap. Look, I have been blessed beyond compare. I have a wife and two beautiful daughters. I have a family that loves me and I thank God every day for them. I have great friends who have stepped up to the plate to help me and my family in our time of need. I have an employer that has continued to support me even though I haven’t worked full time in a year and a half. I have a church that prays for me and my family, a church that offers spiritual help that we need so much. To walk around saying “why me” would be a slap in the face to all of those that have prayed for me, that have helped me, that have lifted me up in my times of need. God has blessed me in ways that I still don’t fully understand. That is the wonderful thing about God; HE is in control, not me or you or my doctors or whomever. How can you complain about that?!? I pray several times a day. I pray when I wake up in the morning before I even get out of bed. I pray before every meal. I pray at bedtime each night. I also pray during random times throughout the day. Do you know what I ask for when I pray? Three things – peace, grace, and mercy. I ask God for peace during the moments of challenge, like today. I ask God for grace, for His blessing over me that I will conduct myself in a way that will make others ask themselves “how can he be that optimistic and be staring death in the eye?” And finally I ask Him for mercy. I ask Him to lift up and carry this tired, worn out, and sometimes troubled soul. How awesome is it to have someone to turn to, when you most need it, and have that someone to always be there to help you, to hold you, to comfort you. Amen.

Well, I could go on and on. There is so much I have to say and so little time. I must get to bed as it’s now pushing 2:30AM and I have a flight back home tomorrow (actually today since it’s already past midnight). I will be home for about a week and a half then I’m back out in Houston for another 2 weeks or so. I should have more details on the new clinical trial later this week, so check back soon.

Till next time, B...

First Annual Golf Tournament

2006-10-24T12:43:00.000-05:00

Some of the folks that joined us for the golf tourney...click on the image for a larger view.

Back in Houston – I think….

2006-10-24T12:11:00.000-05:00

Boy I tell you what, when I don’t update this blog I get all kinds of heat from all of you in bloggerville. “When are you going to update your blog!?!” Hey, I don’t get paid to do this! Seriously, things have been crazy lately, read on for the details.

After close to 12 days at home, I jumped on yet another 6:30AM flight out of Raleigh last Monday (Oct. 16) en route to Houston. I was packed for a full 3 week trip this time; that is, until my wife informed me that I was returning to NC that Thursday. “Why?” I asked. “Don’t ask, just go” was the response. Okay, something was up, obviously a surprise, so I decided to go along with it. My guess was something was going on with my oldest daughter, maybe a school event? I really had no clue. So after 2 short days in Houston I went to the airport to fly back to NC. Not so fast. There were severe thunderstorms in Houston last Wednesday. It’s funny to watch the reactions on everyone’s faces when their flight is delayed or cancelled. You would think their mother was shot by a bank robber. I kept thinking to myself “these folks need to take a trip to the cancer center and see the anguish on the faces of so many people that are fighting for their life”. A flight delay is really no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

As luck would have it, I made it on an earlier flight and got into Greensboro just before midnight. Kimberly told me my “date” would be picking me up at 7:30AM so be ready. Sure enough, right on time, is one of my golfing buddies and he isn’t dressed for a school event. Okay, now I have a little clue on what’s happening. We pick up another golfing buddy and head south on I-85 toward Charlotte. After an hour and a half of driving, we pull into the parking lot of a golf course and that’s when I realized what was going on. There was my dad, my father-in-law, friends from my hometown, customers, fellow co-workers – these guys had planned a benefit golf tournament for me. I was blown away! A total of 45 folks showed up for the first annual Brian Stoll Invitational Golf Tournament. I cannot begin to tell you how surprised I was, but more importantly how thankful I was. This was simply incredible. People taking time out of their busy schedules to play a round of golf for me. I thank you all for your time, your generosity, and the great time we had last Thursday. I sincerely appreciate it.

So Friday morning I’m on another 7AM flight back to Houston. I did some quick math yesterday, and I’ve traveled close to 4,500 miles via plane and car in the last 8 days. I am WORN OUT! But it was all well worth it.

I’m in Houston until Halloween, back home for about a week, then back in Houston on and off for another 2 weeks. I had a PET scan yesterday, my CT scan is scheduled for November 8. I get the results back on November 15. This will determine what the future holds for me, whether I stay on trial or go off trial. I’ll keep you posted.

Till next time, B….

Another Monday, another airport….

2006-10-02T21:08:00.000-05:00

Its 5:20AM Monday morning, and for the third Monday in a row I’m sitting in an airport while most of the sane world is sleeping. Treatment #2 starts at noon today in Houston and after an overnight stay at the airport Marriott, I’m flying back home Tuesday morning. Then its home for 12 days and back to Houston for at least 3 weeks. If all goes well, I will get my last treatment as a clinical participant on November 13. If the tumors have stabilized or reduced in size, then I will return to Houston every 2 weeks for treatment. I welcome the opportunity to make many return trips here, as long as it keeps me alive. I did some quick math today, and I have spent 33 days in a hotel in the last 37 days. I have traveled over 8,000 nautical miles by private and commercial aircraft, and I have spent over $5,000. Which brings up another opportunity to say THANK YOU to so many of you that have donated money, time, airline miles and tickets, hotel points; you name it. I really haven’t had to pay for an airfare yet. Between Corporate Angel Network (flying for free on private jets) and donated commercial airfare, I have only had to pay $76 for a USAirways “buddy pass” and that was a last minute life saver to get me back home the weekend Brookie had surgery (thanks to Gary and Margaret!). Again, thank you so much, you know who you are…

Not too much to update from the last blog entry. This nagging cough just will not let go. The suspicion is the cancerous nodules in my lungs are causing irritation and thus the cough. Fatigue has been another factor, but sleep easily wipes out this problem at least for a little while.

Actually, there is an update from my last post. Brookie came home last Monday following her surgery Saturday for an emergency appendectomy. She is doing just fine after spending last week at home. In her words she was “bor-ded”…this is how she pronounces “bored”. The kid ain’t all there….

The weekend was another quick one with family, but it was a great one. We drove to Hickory Friday evening and spent the night at my parent’s house. My alma mater, Appalachian State, had their homecoming over the weekend so we zipped up the mountain to Boone Friday evening for the bonfire and fireworks. I can’t believe it’s been over 20 years since I graduated from App. On top of that, Breanne is a senior in high school and is considering App for college. Yikes, am I getting old or what?!? We drove back up the mountain Saturday morning to tailgate with friends, and enjoy the festivities of the day. Kimberly and I both love going to the mountains, so we jump at the chance any time we get it.

The cough and fatigue have shifted my thoughts back to the inevitable for all of us. It’s funny how I can go for weeks and not even think about death, then go thru periods such as lately and think about death often. It’s not an anxiety laced thought process, but instead an examination of what to expect if things take a turn for the worse. Is the cough an early indicator of a worsening condition, one that will eventually lead to my passing on? Will this happen soon, in the next six months? What will it be like when that time comes? Will it be painful and agonizing? Will I go slowly? What does it look like, what does it feel like? Thoughts like this simply create more questions, and in the “I want it now” society we live in we expect answers NOW. Unfortunately, there are no answers to these questions until we experience it personally. What is a person to do? Actually there IS an answer to that question…fully rely on God (FROG). A former co-worker and friend of mine gave me a little silver frog recently with a card of encouragement. My kids first shared the FROG saying with me some time ago, and when I opened the package from my friend I smiled and knew exactly what the tiny medallion meant. When things are going your way, you need to praise God. When you are being challenged by life, you need to seek God; fully rely on God. Times like this test my faith. It is an internal battle that is fought on a daily basis. Seek God, trust God, keep the faith. I must continue this internal dialogue so I don’t go crazy. On a lighter note, have you ever thought what you want as your epitaph? I’ve got mine picked out, and it is as atypical as you would expect from me. I’m not sharing it until the time comes, so you will just have to wait (ha, ha, ha).

Fast forward to 8:30PM Monday evening. I had treatment #2 today and it went off without a hitch. There was some concern that my white cell counts were too low, but they came in just over the acceptable threshold. I was able to talk to the physicians assistant today about my cough. “There is a lot of disease in your lungs” was her statement, and she winced when she said it. “I understand” was my response. The honest truth is this clinical drug needs to do some magic on my cancer, otherwise I have just about run out of options. It is so wildly ironic; I’m in the waiting area today and there are people all around me, dozens of them, with masks over their faces to filter out any germs they may inhale. They too are battling this insidious disease, but unlike me they show signs of the war. Me, I’m standing in the corner trying to avoid contact with others, and I look fine. Man is cancer deceptive.

The fatigue is a side affect of the clinical drug according to the research nurse. I will take fatigue over just about any other side affect. Feeling sick for days on end is simply gut wrenching, and for once in my treatment life I can actually function after a treatment. Thank God for the little things.

Till next time, B…

Another unexpected twist….

2006-09-26T12:21:00.000-05:00

There is never a dull moment in the Stoll household. Kimberly called me early Saturday morning saying “I’m on my way to take Brooke to the emergency room”. WHAT?!? Long story short, her appendix was enlarged and had almost ruptured. Her white blood count was 18,000, which is sky-rocket high and an obvious indication of a major infection. Toxins were building up in her appendix and had it ruptured, she might not have made it. Boy oh boy, another grace of God event that happened without even knowing it. Think about it – they catch it before it becomes a MAJOR issue (if not a fatal event) and she is now home resting and gets a week off of school. Ain’t God great? I was, of course, caught completely off guard by the phone call, so I started scrambling trying to figure out if I can make it back to Greensboro before the surgery Saturday afternoon. I was able to get a flight through a friend (thanks Gary and Margaret!) and spent all day flying back to NC. Brooke got out of surgery when I was waiting for a connecting flight out of Philadelphia, which made the last leg much easier on the mind. So….I was back in the air at 6:30AM this morning. Another 36 hour weekend at home! The funny thing is I left a hotel room in Houston to go to an empty home (not counting Pug 1 and Pug 2). Bre spent the night with a friend Saturday night, and Kimberly stayed at the hospital with Brooke. How ironic.

Back in Houston, today was labs and I have 2 days off until another round of labs on Thursday. It looks like I’ll fly back home Thursday night, fly back to Houston Monday morning for treatment Monday afternoon, and fly back to Greensboro early Tuesday morning. WHEW! My fanny is getting flat from sitting in those oh-so-comfortable airplane seats. NOT! Thank God the treatment is not giving me any side affects so I can travel back home with relative ease. I’ve been in a hotel room for close to month now, so the thought of a couple of weeks at home in my own bed is simply decadent. Sometimes the simple things in life are wonderfully fantastic.

Till next time, B...

So Far So Good….

2006-09-20T09:24:00.000-05:00

Monday was my first treatment on AMG-655, a new clinical drug targeted to kill colon cancer cells. Unbelievably, I had ZERO side affects. If you are not familiar with my situation, I have had many challenges with chemo in the past year and a half. Basically put, it is toxic to me. The only way I can begin to describe the feeling is like getting the flu every two weeks. It’s put me in the emergency room more than once, and made me sick for days on end. I have a cloudy memory of 2005. “If the cancer doesn’t kill, then the chemo will” is a statement I have said many times in the past. Hopefully this is behind me. After a one hour drip and six hours of observation, they sent me to the hotel Monday evening and a short list of possible side affects. My mood was cautious, just waiting for what would certainly be another side affect that would make me feel terrible. It is simply a conditioned response. Thankfully nothing bad happened. Another prayer answered.

I mentioned in my last posting that I had a surprise in store for the weekend. After 19 days away from my family and living in a hotel, I made last minute plans to fly home. My wife and oldest daughter knew I was coming home, but we kept it a secret from my youngest daughter. Through the generosity of Corporate Angel Network, I was able to fly back to Charlotte on a private jet, once again the only passenger on a six seat jet. I was a rock star for a day! This is so cool. We arrived at the hanger in Charlotte around 10PM and Brookie was SO surprised. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. This is why I am fighting so hard to beat this damned disease. We had a fantastic weekend together as a family, spending Saturday touring Franklin Street in Chapel Hill and having lunch at Mama Dips – nothing like down home southern cooking. Sunday was spent at church updating folks on my trip to Houston and packing for my return trip. A very good friend and golfing buddy of mine offered to accompany me back to Houston. We met at his home Sunday evening and staying near the Raleigh airport Sunday night. A 4:30AM wake up call had us ready for a 6:30AM flight on Southwest Airlines. I was literally home for only a day and a half, but it was well worth the time spent flying back and forth to Houston.

This week is mainly lab work to see how the clinical drug is affecting my body. I have two more treatments over the next four weeks, then scans at week seven to see what progress is made against the tumors in my lungs. PRAY for positive results. God bless you all. I should be able to return home after treatment a week from Monday. I am looking forward to the trip back home in a big way.

Till next time, Brian…

A quick update....

2006-09-15T17:32:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the best laid plans can go haywire. I was supposed to go in for a PET scan today, only to find out if was rescheduled for Monday. This wouldn't work because I am supposed to start treatment on Monday, and the PET scan is a requirement PRIOR to starting treatment. How do mixup's like this happen ???

I simply decided to show up first thing this morning at the cancer center and see if they could work me in. After a few anxious hours, they called my name and started the 3 hour process of doing a PET scan. Another small prayer answered....

Have a great weekend, I plan on doing something big but I can't tell you yet. Check in on Monday.

Till next time, B...

Coming up on crunch time....

2006-09-14T14:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday revealed more information about my acceptance into the clinical trial and my current situation regarding the severity of my cancer and future prospects. Simply put, I need this clinical trial drug to either stabilize the tumor growth or reduce the size of the tumors in my lungs. I have acquired a nasty little dry cough that is due to the spots in my lungs irritating the surrounding areas. You know how you get a scratchy throat and you try to clear your throat, drink some water - anything to get rid of the sensation? I have the same problem only it's in my lungs and coughing or drinking water doesn't do any good.

My first treatment will be on Monday. Sixty minutes getting intravenousous drip, then six HOURS of observation to make sure the drug doesn't make me grow two heads. The known side affects so far is a mild fever, some nausea, and body aches the first night after treatment. If that's the case, this will be a cakewalk for me. Toxicity to chemo has been an issue from day one, with some episodes lasting well over a week and keeping me bedridden for that long if not longer. The clinical drug will be my only treatment so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the side affects are minimal. I will receive treatment every 2 weeks, with lab work and other tests scattered in between.

As usual, there will be a lot more down time than busy time, such is the case for dealing with an institution this size. I keep busy as best I can, but I must admit there is a whole lot of time to do little if anything at all. No lawn to mow, no cars to wash, no floors to vacuum, no dogs to walk, no kids to cook for...you get the idea. I did have my oldest brother out here for a week which was great. We've never been able to spend that kind of one-on-one time together, ever. We talked a lot about everything, shared a bunch of laughs, and even got in a couple rounds of golf. Doesn't get much better than that.

After my appointment yesterday, I left the cancer center in a wicked mode, a combination of disappointment and anger. The disappointment came from a question I asked of my oncologist. How long, left unchecked, do I have until this situation becomes serious? "Some patients can go months and even a couple of years" until the situation becomes serious. I knew I was going to get that type of answer - "not very long". Remember what I've said before. The mantra for cancer patients is to "Hope for the best and expect the worst". I'm still convinced the medical community takes a course in college entitled "Worst Possible Scenario Patient Discussion 101". The outlook is always so bleak, so heavily laced with pessimism. I appreciate the fact they have to be up front and honest with you. Data is data, no arguing that fact, and when the data suggests you have a limited time frame, well then... The last thing I want is to be mislead into thinking I'm okay and will live to be 100 years old. But at the same time the delivery of the message, simply put, sucks. Part of the problem is I'm a sales guy. Not only can I turn lemons into sweet tasting lemonade, I'll sell a tall cool glass of it to you and make you think you got the best deal of the day. Hey, my initials are BS, what did you expect? Seriously, you can tell me the facts but give me a glimmer of hope to boot. Such is not the case with most folks in the medical community. God bless them all, they have a tough job that at times yields terrible results. Cancer sucks.

The anger side of the situation involves my inability to lay down and give up. There is this small part of me that is prepared to give up, to accept the fact that I have terminal cancer and I need to go peacefully. Whenever I encounter that part of me, I bring out the virtual sledgehammer and beat the hell out of it. I'm going to fight this damned disease until the bitter end. For those of you that do not know me, I'm a pretty laid back guy, not easily rattled, and I can adapt to most any scenario. Yet there is a competitive streak in me that wants to win at all costs, regardless of what I'm doing. The interesting part is I typically keep that driven determination hidden. It is a part of my nature, part of my makeup. You can thumb your nose at me, but I'm going to whip your butt in the end and you probably won't even see it coming until it's too late. I love a good challenge.

Many of you ask how I cope with situations like this or make comments like "there is no way I could go through what you are going through". The truth is I have learned how to adapt. Stuff like this used to freak me out, send me into a panic striken funk. It's different now. There is a split second of dissapointment and frustration, selfish "why me" stuff. When the "why me" enters my mind I've learned to turn it off, and do so NOW. No time to think junk like that. We all are faced with what appears to be insurmountable challenges and you know what? We get through them. Some of us do a better job than others. My secret is this - the true peace comes when I think of one, simple thought. Something that immediately brings a smile to my face and a comfortable warmth to my soul. Something that makes me realize it's all going to be okay. What is it? Heaven. If you believe in salvation, you know there is a heaven where the streets are paved with gold, where there is no pain, no suffering, no cancer, nothing at all negative. If I die tomorrow, I know I'm in good hands, and I'm not talking about Allstate. The good Lord has got a grip on me and it's a good one. He will protect me. Do I want to die tomorrow? Hell no. I have a wife and kids and a lot of living yet to do. I love the feeling of the hot sun on my face. I relish the smell of sweet flowers, blooming in all their colorful splendor. There's something about hitting a golf ball exactly like you intended to and grinning from ear to ear when you see the results (and the astonished look of amazement on the faces of your fellow competitors). I love life and I have been blessed beyond comparison. But - if my ticket is punched tomorrow and my time is up - I rejoice in the fact that I get to enter into the visual presence of our creator and enter into a land where there is no pain, where this is no suffering, where cancer does not exist. That's not a bad thing.

Tomorrow is consumed with waiting for a PET scan. I'm on the schedule for 1:30, but you have to fast for at least 6 hours prior to the scan. The heck with that, I'm showing up first thing in the morning and beg them to work me in so I can eat something before 6PM! It takes a total of at least 3 hours for the scan and the required "down time" after the scan. If I have to wait until 1:30, then I won't get out of the cancer center until 5 or 6PM. Forget that! Stay tuned.

Till next time...Brian.

Just another manic Monday...

2006-09-11T22:56:00.000-05:00

First and foremost, Godspeed to the families of the victims of 9/11. Can it really be five years later? Boy does time fly, but the raw feelings of 9/11 remain strong in all of us. Let us not forget.

Well, today was a busy day if you consider counting the dots in the ceiling tiles as being busy. I arrived at the Cancer Center at 7:30AM for my first scheduled appointment of the day. Only 3-1/2 hours until my last appointment, so I should be out of here by noon, right? WRONG! Man this place is just packed with people, so many innocent souls stricken by this dreaded disease. Again I look around the waiting area and see so many folks that are struggling big time with the effects of chemo and radiation. Cancer sucks. After my 7:30 appointment I had time to talk to the research nurse regarding the clinical trial they want me to participate in. She answered my questions and went over the schedule with me. The good thing is the clinical drug is the ONLY treatment I will receive, so I’m off regular chemo at least for a couple of months. If all goes as scheduled, I will be home by Thanksgiving, with a few quick trips home to see the kids. If I don’t have any serious side effects from the clinical drug and it yields positive results, I will return to Houston every 2 weeks for a one day treatment for an indefinite period of time. Let’s pray for positive results. After we reviewed everything, I asked the clinical nurse “why am I a good candidate for this clinical trial?” Because you are in excellent health was her response. I find this wildly ironic; I’m in excellent health, and I have cancer…oh well, you work with what you have. Thank God I am in relative good health. I will be the 21st person to participate in this trial, which is pretty cool. I’m going to be on the cutting edge of research, hopefully contributing in a positive way to the trial while getting the benefit on a drug that is not yet FDA approved. Hopefully I will be one of those participants that will go into the research books as a participant that had positive results. If the results are good and the drug shows promise for everyone, then it will gain FDA approval. I must admit this is complicated stuff and difficult for me to articulate (and understand). However, this is why I’m here so let’s strap in for the ride.

After meeting with the clinical nurse, I went to the waiting area for my CT scan. Again, the room is overflowing with people. A few folks are in wheelchairs, unable to walk on their own. One of those folks was a young girl. I overheard her father talking to one of the nurses, confirming her personal information. She was born in December 1988. The same month and year Breanne was born. Only 17 years old, and she is confined to a wheelchair due to the callous affects of cancer. Damn this disesase. It makes me hurt and get angry all at the same time. I felt so sorry for this child, who was obviously scared but was most likely a “veteren” of the treatment circuit. Why must she suffer? Why her instead of my child? Stop. I cannot ask why, it’s not my place to do so. Instead I must focus on the mission at hand while praying for people like this young girl, praying that God will give this child peace and comfort. Damn this disease.

Well, I was able to get out of the Cancer Center by 2:30PM. Not too bad. You simply have to be patient, wait your turn, and count your blessings that we have a place like MD Anderson to come to in our time of need. It beats the heck out of inpatience and getting cranky because your day is shot waiting on the next appointment.

I’m back on Wednesday for a meeting with the oncologist, another scan, and more tests. If all goes as planned, I’m starting treatment on Thursday. A one hour drip followed by six hours of observation. Maybe I’ll take a nap.

Till next time...Brian.

Patience is a virtue....

2006-09-09T16:20:00.000-05:00

Patience also comes in handy when you are a patient at a major medical center. For the last couple of days I’ve had a nagging cough. Given that I have cancerous spots on my lungs, I was told by my oncologist in NC that if I ever experience anything unusual with my breathing or anything odd associated with my lungs, I need to let them know immediately. So off I go to MD Anderson this morning first thing, thinking they would check out my lungs and in short order send me on my merry way. WRONG! They sent me to the emergency room instead. My recent encounters with the ER are nothing short of painful. Not in a physical way, but in a way that will test your patience. You have to wait and wait for what seems like enternity to finally see a doctor. I checked into the ER at 8:51AM and I was only the second person there this early in the morning. Great, I thought, I can get this done quickly. WRONG! Long, long, long story short, I checked out of the ER at 2:30PM. Between labs, xrays, an EKG, and 2 brief conversations with my ER doc, there was nothing “spectacular” on the xrays or my labs that indicated anything of immediate concern. Patience is a virtue…

I did (once again) meet some very nice folks here at MD Anderson. A gentleman in his early 70’s was wheeled into my (our) room around 11AM. His son was with him. We shared small talk until we both realized we were going to be there for a while, at which point we began talking it up big time. He has kidney cancer, it had spread to his lungs just as my cancer has, but he also is fighting diabetes, neuropathy in his feet from diabetes, and a stent that is leaking blood. But you know what? He had a wonderful attitude, joking with the nurse and doctors, making me and everyone else laugh. I so enjoyed his company. He is an excellent example of how your attitude can not only brighten up the day of others, it can also do yourself good. He was told 2 years ago that he had 2 months to live, was told to go home and “get his house in order”. He sought a second opinion from MD Anderson, and the oncologist here told him it didn’t look great but suggested he at least try chemotherapy to see if it could help. Here he his, 2 years later, putting smiles on faces wherever he goes, regardless of the personal issues he battles on a daily basis. If you are a past blog reader, you’ve heard me mention PMA – Positive Mental Attitude. If you walk around with a cloud over your head all day, you will get rained on and you won’t be able to enjoy the warmth and comfort of the sunshine. Some of us are caught up in our own world of gloom and doom. “Misery loves company”. Sound familiar? I encourage you to examine your attitude. PMA.

My next (scheduled) appointment is on Monday for CT scans and other tests. I should see my oncologist on Wednesday, and HOPEFULLY I will be flying back to NC on Thursday. I’m anxious to get back to see my wife and kids. More importantly, I want to see them because I may be flying back a week from Monday for a two month trip to Houston. It looks like I may be accepted into a phase 1 clinical trial that is showing promise in a variety of cancers. I’ll know more details tomorrow or Monday. Have a great weekend.

Till next time...Brian.

The start of a new day…

2006-09-01T22:04:00.000-05:00

The start of a new day…

September 1, 2006 – the start of a new day in my life. I write this as I am sitting in the waiting area at the MD Anderson Cancer Center Clark Clinic, 10th floor, Clinical Center for Targeted Therapy. Yes I know, that’s a mouth full. But considering the size of this place, it takes a mouth full to know exactly where you are in a sprawling maze of buildings, parking decks, and hallways. In addition to MD Anderson, there is a Heart Center, a Children’s Hospital, a Women’s Hospital, a Shriner’s Hospital, and on and on and on. The entire complex of facilities is enormous, beyond description. Yet at the same time it’s a well organized, easy to get around mouse maze.

I am excited and heartbroken all at the same time. The excitement part is easy; I have so looked forward to this day, and something in my gut is telling me this is going to be a trip well worth the time and effort. MD Anderson is world renowned. If there has ever been a place that can help me, this has got to be it. There is a tremendous amount of clinical research conducted here (read: guinea pig). My experience with the staff here to date has been nothing short of amazing. Instead of simply relying on the data collected on me to date, they are going to conduct their own tests, do their own evaluation, even review the tissue samples from my surgery in March 2005. One of the clinical nurses I spoke to on the phone explained that 25% of all the pathology reports they have seen contain some type of error in them. Yikes! I’ve often wondered if the scans, lab work, etc., a truly accurate. Think about it; someone is sitting in a room, looking at a computer screen for hours on end, review my clinical data. How often does that person misread a scan, or overstate a situation, or completely miss a tumor or cancerous spot? We are all human, it’s bound to happen. Yikes….

The heartbroken part is simply looking around me. There are folks that have masks over the mouths, something that I had to do when I was in the worst times of treatment, when you body is susceptible to infection due to the damaging affects of chemo. There are still others lying down on recliner chairs, unable to sit up due to the lack of energy. A lot of folks don’t have hair. Some people cannot walk without the assistance of a loved one. Chemo is ruthless when it comes to the damage it does to the body. These are painful reminders of what cancer is really like, of how cancer does not discriminate, of how cancer attacks with the force and fury of a hurricane, wiping things out in its path. Cancer is cruel, evil. Being here and seeing this makes me want to fight even more, to beat this damned disease.

As a cancer survivor, you learn to "hope for the best and expect the worst". This mantra was a painful reminder for a gentleman I met today, Truman. Truman lives in Lake Charles, Louisiana, and he and his wife were at MD Anderson today for a checkup. Truman is a black man with skin that goes beyond the color brown, approaching the color of the darkest coffee bean you have ever seen. His skin however was marked with pink and white splotches, scars from melanomas that were surgically removed and the ensuing radiation. I asked where they were staying, not knowing exactly how far Lake Charles is from Houston. He explained they were in Houston only for the day; Lake Charles is a 2 hour drive away. We exchanged conversation for about an hour, enjoying our company as we waited to see the same doctor. I was called in first to see the doctor, so I told him good luck and God bless. He said the same and that was it. Two and a half hours later I heard someone yelling at me down the hallway as I approached the elevator to leave for the day (it was well after 5PM by now). It was Truman, walking slowly with the assistance of a cane, his wife helping him toward the elevator. "Is dat him?" he yelled down the hallway. I laughed and told him to come on, I'll hold the door for you. As he got on the elevator he said, "Well, we be here fo' another 6 o' 7 weeks". You see, Truman's checkup turned into a discussion that his cancer had returned. You hope for the best and you expect the worst. Dammit, this disease is Satan at his finest. Just when you think you have it whipped, it rears its ugly head again and SLAPS you across the face. I can't wait to see Truman again. We are about as opposite as it gets from a societal standpoint, but we are brothers in Christ fighting the same, ugly battle. You hope for the best....

This place is overwhelmed with patients waiting to see doctors! Today was basically an introduction to MD Anderson. I learned more about what they do, they learned more about me and my condition. I’ll be getting a call from them on Tuesday to set up appointments for next week (Monday being the Labor Day holiday). It sounds like a lot of tests and lab work is in order next week. My oncologist did mention a clinical trial that is opening up soon, but it’s too early to tell if I will qualify for it. The tests will determine what the next step is.
Check in next week, and have a great holiday weekend. Till next time, Brian….

The thought for the day....

2006-08-31T11:50:00.000-05:00

I have been taking advantage of my new found free time to do some things that I normally wouldn't take the time to do. Yesterday I visited the Houston Museum of Natural Science. I saw a billboard advertising an exhibit entitled "Body Worlds 3" that caught my eye. The image on the billboard was that of a person stripped of their skin, muscles and ligaments showing. It looked too interesting to pass up, so I made the trip to the museum to check it out. WOW! This was both incredibly fascinating and horridly bizarre all at the same time. A German anatomist has perfected the technique of preserving the human body; bones, muscles, tendons, organs, eyes...you name it. He takes parts of the human anatomy and illustrates the God given wonder of this incredible machine. This part of the exhibit was pretty tame. The bizarre part comes in where he poses an entire body into various artist forms. Remember > this is a real person, preserved for your viewing entertainment! One "plastinate" as they are called was a man who was stripped of his skin, exposing his inner body. The twist was that he was holding his own skin in one piece, head to toes (literally), in an outstretched hand! I must admit I was completely in awe of the exhibit.

Check it out online at www.hmns.org, click on "Body Worlds 3". There are several links, click on Plastination to learn more about the process. Cool stuff...

During the tour I noticed a quote on a large banner that was a part of the exhibit. It was from the Greek philosopher Epikur, and it states:

Accustom yourself to the thought that death does not concern us. For everything good and bad is based on perception. Death, however, is the loss of perception.Thus the most dreadful evil, death, does not concern us; since as long as we exist, death is not there and when death is there, we do not exist anymore.

Epikur, Greek philosopher (341 - 271 B.C.)

Now; take the time to clear your brain and re-read the above quote. Think about it...this summarizes what I've talked about in my blog before. It's taken me some time to get to the point where I do not fear death. It is a part of the natural cycle of life. Furthermore, I've come to see life as merely a waiting room on our planet Earth. If you a believer, you know there is a life thereafter, in a land where there is no pain, there is no suffering, there is no cancer, where the streets are paved with gold and every day is a good day. What's so bad about that? Think about it. Till next time, Brian...

Acting like a tourist in steamy Houston....

2006-08-31T11:37:00.000-05:00

I’m a big fan of Joel Osteen, the pastor of a very large church in Houston. Kimberly and I saw Joel in Raleigh at the RBC Center last winter. The hotel where I am staying is only about a mile from Lakewood Church, so I stopped by for a picture earlier this week. I’m looking forward to going to one of the services this weekend, along with 55,000 other people. That’s right, this place is HUGE! Check it out at www.joelosteen.com

Houston we have landed....

2006-08-31T11:20:00.000-05:00

Make that I have landed in Houston. Through a series of phone calls over the last 2 months, I found Corporate Angel Network, an organization that pairs corporations with their own private jets with individuals that need air transportation for cancer treatment. I was told to show up at the airport on Monday at 8AM. Upon arriving at the hanger, I was greeted by a couple of fellows that are part of the ground crew for this company. They told me to make myself comfortable in their lounge area while the plane was prepared for departure. Envision a jet aircraft hanger with a VERY nice office/lounge area to relax in. Leather seating, a big 50+” wide screen TV, a conference room surrounded by glass with a view of the runway…this was simply incredible and definitely something you don’t encounter every day. Someone instructed me to board the jet, and when I did I quickly moved to the rear of the plane. I didn’t want to get in the way of the other folks who were traveling on business with the corporation (plus there were only 6 seats so it was a small cabin). The pilots came on board and one of them told me to sit anywhere I wanted to. “Am I the lone traveler today?” I asked. “Yep, just you!” Oh my gosh, these guys are flying me 1,200 miles in a private plane and I’m the ONLY person on board? How much $$ did this trip cost the company that so generously donated their time, employees, and equipment ??? This is a prime example of the unselfish generosity I have encountered during my journey. I am forever grateful to individuals and organizations like this.

Ask and ye shall receive....

2006-08-17T22:04:00.000-05:00

Holy cow, the response to our request for help re: the financial burden of my trip to Houston has been overwhelming. I cannot begin to tell you how many folks have stepped up and made donations. Some give money, some offer meals, others offer help with the kids and things around the house, still others are donating airline miles for free airfare, etc. Above all, I continue to get words of encouragement from so many of you, people saying they are praying for me and my family. Needless to say, we are blessed beyond comparison; this has been a humbling experience. One of our neighbors made a good point, which was "we never really knew what to do for you until now" and man has that ever been the case. Thank you to everyone that has offered help with so many different things.

I am beginning to realize that my situation is deceptive. People tell me I look great. On the outside I look okay, I feel great, and I don't look like I'm fighting a chronic, deadly disease. When I'm not on chemo (like right now) I look like your "average Joe", healthy and vibrant. My hair is growing back, I feel strong and energetic. However, left unchecked there will be a time when the cancer will win the battle. Such is the reason for taking this trip to Houston.

I had someone ask me today if I'm "okay", am I scared? Honestly? I'm not at all scared. I don't fear death like I did 2+ years ago. When you look death in the eye and get to meet it face to face, you realize that your worst enemy is your own negative imagination. How many times does Jesus address those in the bible by saying "oh ye of little faith..." I find myself doubting my faith at times, and I quickly realize that thoughts like these are counterproductive, they drain the mind and soul of positive energy, and are downright ridiculous. Easier said than done sometimes, but I encourage each and every one of you to stay strong in your faith and be positive. Keep your chin up and FIGHT. Don't let negative people pull you down. Certainly there will be times when you want to give up. Turn to your bible, turn to a good friend or family member, do something that will bring you up. The path to power is through the test. Look what God did for Gideon in the book of Judges. He turned a loser into a leader. If you aren't familiar with the story, read it. If you have questions, please ask me about it. Good stuff.

Tune in to the blog often in about 2 weeks. I plan on posting daily updates regarding my time at MD Anderson, complete with photo's, etc. The creative juices are beginning to flow again...I'll keep you posted.

Till next time...Brian.

Father's Day 2006

2006-08-14T22:18:00.000-05:00

Me and my girls...

When is he going to update this &%$@! blog?

2006-08-14T21:58:00.001-05:00

Hello to all family, friends, and acquaintances >> a quick update on me and a call for help.

After literally months of phone calls, faxes, and emails, I have been "accepted" as a new patient at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, TX. MD Anderson is a world renowned cancer center, and is a focal point of clinical research in new treatments for all forms of cancer. I haven't sent out an update lately or updated the blog because there has been a fair amount of uncertainty and things haven't been going in the right direction regarding treatment. My last 2 scans have shown slow yet gradual progress in the growth of the spots on my lungs and the 2-3 lymph nodes that are cancerous. Had those spots in my lungs been around when I was first diagnosed, I would be at a Stage 4. What does that mean? A 4% chance of being alive in 5 years. NOT very good odds. However, I was a Stage 3-C when I was first diagnosed, which means I have a 44% chance of survival in 5 years. Colon cancer is akin to terrorists. They lurk hidden behind the scenes, scheming their evil plans until BOOM you get hit. The only difference is cancer doesn't discriminate, it goes after anyone, at any age, at any time. Some of you have asked "why MD Anderson?" I really can't answer that question. Some of it is just a gut feeling; someone told me about MD Anderson, and I went online well over a year ago and started learning more about who they are and what they have to offer. Some of it is probably divine intervention. God has a plan for me, He hasn't fully revealed it to me yet, so I continue to move forward and do what I feel is the right thing to do. Plus, Houston in August is simply fabulous...if you like sweltering heat and humidity that feels like a steam bath! Go figure....

I will be leaving for Houston at the end of this month, with my first appointment being on Sept. 1. I will be staying in Houston for 2 weeks, undergoing tests, evaluations, etc. The goal is to be accepted into a clinical trial for colon cancer. My current treatment therapy is now in recycle mode. I'm back to taking chemotherapy drugs that I took over a year ago. Nothing is really working that well, and we are trying to do what we can to mix it up and find a blend that will either keep the growth at bay, reduce the size of the tumors and spots, or (ideally) go into remission. Many of you ask how I feel and tell me I look great. Well, when I'm not on chemo, I feel fantastic. Treatment every 2 weeks; feel crappy for one week, feel better for the second week, then back to treatment again...it's a vicious cycle that takes a physical and mental toll on the body. However - I'm off chemo for now because you have to be off treatment for at least 30 days to get into a clinical trial. Almost like getting a month of detox and a mini vacation to boot! There is a remote chance I will get into a clinical trial while in Houston. If that's the case, then I'm in Texas for 10 weeks straight. If not on this trip, then hopefully I will return at some point in the near future to find the magic cure. If you are of the praying type, thank you for the continued prayers. If you aren't of the praying type, keep your fingers crossed and call me sometime in the first 2 weeks of September. I'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands. I try to work as much as possible while going thru treatment. My employer continues to blow me away with their support. Even though I'm not able to work full time, they still treat me like a full time employee. This is probably part of God's plan that is quickly becoming evident as time goes on.

Now for a call for help. This first 2 week trip is going to cost close to $3,000. A generous and anonymous person has offered to pay for my lodging while in Houston, which will be close to $1,500. I will most likely be driving to Texas because I don't want to be without a car while I'm out there. Plus, I may have the opportunity to visit friends in Austin and Dallas over the 2 weekends I will be out there. This still leaves at least $1,500 that I will need to fund the trip. And this does not come close to covering the costs of an additional 8 weeks. That will cost another $5,000 plus the possible air fare to fly the kids out to see me at least once. And of course there are still the month to month expenses that we all endure. Needless to say, this whole ordeal has drained us financially. Kimberly may or may not make this trip. The kids start back to school on August 25. I (we?) leave just a few days after that, and both of the kids are going to new schools this year. So we are undecided at this point on how best to deal with this. Kimberly's one concern is what to do if I go to Houston for 8 weeks. Both of us being away from the kids for that long is almost impossible. Eight weeks from mid September is Thanksgiving. Furniture market and other day-to-day household chores won't stop if I'm in Texas. Kimberly has a twice a year job during market with a great company, with the fall market coming up in October. That income is essential to our family. We may also be asking for help with the other "stuff" that goes on in a typical household. As you can see, there are many challenges with this scenario, so keep this in your prayers on how best to handle this if it becomes a reality.

If you are able to donate money to help offset the costs of this trip(s), I sincerely appreciate your generosity. If not, I still appreciate the prayers, phone calls, emails, letters of encouragement - you name it. I'm still amazed at the notes I get in the mail from people and churches that I have no idea who they are or where they're from. But they are praying for me and this is what lifts me up and helps me get thru the tough days. The days you feel good are easy. Believe me when I tell you, once you go thru a life changing event like this, you sincerely appreciate the simple things in life. Going outside and watching the birds flock around the bird feeder is entertainment. Laying in bed and agonizing over the affects of chemo makes ANYTHING seem better than having these hazardous chemicals flowing thru your veins.

I plan on doing daily updates while in Texas, so check back often. This will make it easy for everyone to track my progress.

As always, thanks to everyone for your support and prayers. We all appreciate it. Brian.

PS-if you wish to send a donation, send me an email and I will give you our address. Click on the little envelope link below.

PPS-leave a comment for me so I know you visited the blog...go to the Comment link below. Thanks.

A quick update...

2006-04-26T09:15:00.000-05:00

Well, things have been crazy around here. Pretty typical stuff; your 17 year old wrinkling the side of her car on a pole that protects the gas pump, the start of Furniture Market and my wife running around like a mad person trying to get ready, an 11 year old that has to be told 73 times to "Get out of bed" in the morning because school is getting old and she doesn't want to get up...you name it.

A lot has happened since the last update. My most recent scan showed a slight increase in the size of the spots on my lungs. Not the best news, but nothing to panic about either. Some of the spots grew by 1-2 millimeters. I have about a dozen of them scattered around my lungs, and each of them about the size of a fingernail. So what do you do? Get back on chemo, consistently, for an extended period of time. The good news is we've eliminated some of the toxic drugs that were causing so many bad side affects. My first treatment last Wednesday went very well. No nausea, no sickness, and I was not in bed for 3-5 days feeling like a bus hit me. Round #2 is today at 1:30PM. I'll go for treatments weekly for about 2 months and get another scan. The harsh reality is I will be on chemo for a good while. No telling how long; you go until the cancer is gone or until you kick the bucket. The latter is not considered an option so the former is preferred (DUH!).

As always, thank you for the continued prayers and words of encouragement. I am continally amazed at how many people have me in their thoughts and prayers. Such is the fuel that keeps me going.

My thoughts lately have unfortunately been focused on pain. Not emotional pain, but good old fashioned physical pain. I've had some typical side affects for about 2 months now and they range from annoying pain to severe pain. Chemo makes my skin crack on my hands and feet, like paper cuts. Instead of one "paper cut" I have, oh, maybe 15-20? They hurt like the dickens. And then there are other pains that literally keep you up all night long. It reminds me of what I was going through exactly one year ago today. Post op infections and issues had me in pain for over 5 months, day after day, night after sleepless night. Pain and I do not get along well; I'm a pain whimp, but in typical survivor fashion I've learned to live with it - like it or not.

Well, time to go back to work. Keep visiting the blog for the latest; I'll try to be more proactive in updates. B.

PS - many of you have mentioned that I should write a book. Believe me, it's in the works. I literally "write" a chapter every night in my brain. I can't go to sleep without composing my thoughts about my journey and burning it into memory. The scary part is I can remember what I "write". The challenging part is taking the time to download it all into my computer. This will happen in due time. My goal is getting closure with this disease (read: cured) so I can have a tidy ending to the book. Stay tuned...

Two steps forward, one step...???

2006-02-04T20:21:00.000-05:00

Hhhmmmm...how do you tactfully express a thought in your mind that is laced with profane images? Such is the result of my most recent CT scan, which revealed 10-15 fingernail sized spots on my lungs. My conscious mind was full of positive thoughts leading up to the scan a week ago last Thursday. I've been feeling fine, my hair is growing back like wild fire, and I've gained over 30 lbs. since my surgery in March of 2005. The problem is cancer is akin to a flame. Relatively harmless until the flame ignites a fire, and the fire ends up destroying a structure. Cancer does the same thing. It slowly breeds until, left unchecked, it will kill you. Period.

My subconscious mind was much more accurate. Something in the back of my brain kept telling me I am far from done. I tried sluffing off these thoughts to a lack of faith, to a fear of who knows what. I'll be fine I kept telling myself. I'm back working, I feel great, I'm healthy. Yeah, right. Cancer doesn't care how you feel now. It's goal is satanic > destroy you at all costs. As I have mentioned before, I really don't feel fearful, I'm not afraid of dying, but I do worry about the affects of such an event on my children and my wife. Not a pretty picture.

When I received the phone call from my oncologist telling me about the results of my most recent scan, my heart started to race. I know the news is not what I want to hear. Sure enough, the onc calmly explains how the spots on my lungs have reappeared. Have you ever blown up a balloon, only to s-l-o-w-l-y let the air back out? That is exactly what I felt as I was driving my car down the interstate while talking on the phone. After the phone call, I only remember turning the radio off in my car, continuing to blaze down I-85 at 70mph. For the next hour I don't have any recollection of anything I did. My mind was going in different directions, unable to fully grasp the latest news. As I rolled into Charlotte I do remember thinking of what it will be like walking back into the treatment area at the Cancer Center. I literally began to growl out loud like a dog that is getting ready to attack you. The thought of the treatments brings back a rush of emotions, none of them pleasant. I wince everytime I think about it. I get a gag reflex when I walk in the treatment room. The smell reminds me of the all-to-familiar nauseous feelings in my gut. DAMMIT. I absolutely despise chemo.

However, I had another life-lesson experience earlier in the week, prior to my phone call from the onc. The CT was on Thursday, which means I should get a phone call on Monday to discuss the scan. I usually leave the nurses a voice mail kindly reminding them that I'm waiting on my results; call me when you can please...but...no phone call until late Monday afternoon. As I reached for the cell phone, I thought it's about time. BIG mistake. The nurse started off by saying they've had a tragic day at the office. One of the physician assistants got a phone call that her husband was critically injured in a motorcycle accident. When she arrived at the hospital, he was already dead. Suddenly my scan results don't mean a thing; this woman and her young son have lost their husband/father. Just like that, their lives have changed with a blink of an eye. Simple words just cannot explain the grief, the pain, the sorrow of such an event. I don't care how bad you have it, somebody always has it worse than you. Things like this make me think like I'm walking thru life's mine field. Whenever I hear news like this, I feel as if a bomb is exploding near me. The more tragic the news, the louder the bomb. BOOM! This one hit way to close to home. This PA is a great person, she actually makes a trip to the Cancer Center fun. Several months ago she told me how they were buying new wheels for their Mustang, and how her husband loved motorcycles. I've always been a car enthusiast and I love talking about them, so when she strolls in the room I immediately feel better. Her demeanor and compassion are rare in the medical community. She always has a smile on her face, this is spite of her profession and dealing with folks that are knocking on death's door. You know how you try to prep your brain for what you should ask the doctor before your appointment? I always do this prior to seeing the onc or his PA. The funny thing is, when I see the PA, we end up talking about anything mechanical and I pretty much forget about why I'm there in the first place. This reminds me of an earlier blog entry: stop looking into the mirror and start looking out the window. Take the focus away from you and your issues. Be thankful for what you have. Show gratitude. Smile.

Okay, I'm out for now. I have so much stuff in my brain that I can't articulate it right now. I'll flush it out later, it'll be good...I promise. Till next time, B.

Happy New Year 2006

2006-01-11T18:36:00.000-05:00

Well, we made it through the holidays intact, no visible damage other than the bank account took a big hit buying presents! We had a great holiday.

No new news on the prognosis front. My next scan is scheduled for January 26. We should know more after the scan. The oral form of chemo is going well, with a few minor side affects. There was one MAJOR side affect when the up'd my doseage on round #2, just after Christmas. I was in Charlotte working, and ended up puking my guts out so much that I had to check myself into a hotel. Long story short, Kimberly and Bre ended up driving to Charlotte and took me home. I simply could not stop getting sick. So....this sidelined me for a couple of days. Ah yes, the joy of driving the porcelain bus.

More later, hoping all of you have a happy and healthy new year. B.

More good news...

2005-11-28T22:06:00.000-05:00

Well, another trip to the doc today and got some more good news. Long story short, my oncologist is putting me on an oral form of chemo and we are suspending the standard chemo treatments for now. This is actually great news as the chemo has been whipping me pretty bad for many months. The side affects are so numerous and on going that I forget them all. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the Xeloda (pronounced Ze-LO-da; oral chemo drug) doesn't produce the same side affects as standard 5FU.

My wife was mad at me after the Dr. appointment. She asked me if I was excited at the great news. My response was "no". She saw the positive side of the conversation (cancer is in remission, no more chemo, etc.) and I saw the other side. The cancer is not "gone" and in reality it will never be gone. The C word is like a scarlet letter burned into your mind. You can never get away from it, the only thing you can do is try to eliminate it from your thinking. Otherwise you would go crazy. Am I encouraged by the good news? Absolutely yes. I'm excited that things are moving in the right direction. My issue is dealing with the ongoing issues; treatment, scans, doctor visits, etc. It becomes quite exhausting at times. Regardless, I am so fortunate to have excellent doctors and nurses, and an institution that puts the patient first.

We enjoyed a tremendous Thanksgiving holiday in our former home state, Florida. The weather was gorgeous, so "un-Thanksgiving". 80 degrees, breakfast outside in the AM without a jacket, swimming in late November ??? It doesn't get any better than that! Thank God for relaxing vacations, no matter how short they are.

I look forward to the holidays and getting back to work full time. This was something we discussed today during my Dr. appointment. I am so anxious to get back to my "old" routine, pre-cancer. The old routine involved typical day-to-day activities; kids, work, even enjoying a Dr. Pepper. Carbonated sodas and treatment = a painful experience. This is a silly example of how difficult treatment can be. I want that "normal" way of life back, something that I recognize and miss so much. Simple little things like a DP become challenging if not impossible. You don't realize what you miss until it's taken away from you. The psychological effect is amazing, interesting, and painful all at the same time. I should have taken more psych courses in college!

Well, I'm out for now. Today has been stressful and I feel wiped out. The anticipation of these Dr. appointments can take a toll on the body and mind. Take a look at the pic below from our trip to FL.

Till next time, Brian...

Thanksgiving in Florida...

2005-11-28T21:42:00.000-05:00

The family went to Florida for Thanksgiving, MAN was it great! The weather was perfect, we sat by the pool at our favorite, the Hard Rock Hotel, and soaked up the sun. Got a tattoo (spray on, not a real one) and judging from the look on Brookie's face she doesn't like it. Oh well, we had fun anyhow. I must admit, I think the tattoo looks good; when I make it thru all this mess I may get a real one!

PS - the symbol is Chinese for "courage", or at least that's what they told me...

Update: we went out for Chinese food for dinner tonight. I asked our server if she could read Chinese, she said "yes". So I turned my head around and asked her to interpret my tattoo. She said it meant "air". Great - I'm an airhead now!

The Family in Florida...

2005-11-25T16:09:00.000-05:00

I want to move back to Orlando !!!

Surf's Up!

2005-11-25T04:50:00.000-05:00

This pic was taken on Turkey Day, in Orlando, FL at City Walk, Universal Studios. Ain't I pretty ?!?

"Baldy" with friends at App St homecoming

2005-11-07T14:50:00.000-05:00

My college next door neighbor and his family joined us in the mountains for ASU's homecoming. Times like this make you realize how lucky you are to have good friends, fun times, and relaxing weekends.

Finally...

2005-10-07T20:55:00.000-05:00

Well, after 4 or 5 weeks of feeling REALLY bad, I ended up in the ER (again) this week due to a fever and various other ailments. I thought I was going to watch the Panthers play the Packers on Monday Night Football and fall asleep at halftime. Nope, other plans. I end up in the ER until 2:30AM and watched the END of the game in a horizontal position on a less than cozy stretcher. After all kinds of tests and X-rays, sure enough they weren't exactly sure what was wrong. Oh well, no surprise.

The "Finally..." title refers to an appointment I had today with my oncologist. I had my most recent CT scan on Wednesday, and met with him today to review the scans. The results were very, very good. The spots on my lungs are completely gone, and the 2 lymph nodes that are cancerous have shrunk "significantly" per the written report. FINALLY, some good news! Seriously, this has been the first time in 7 months that I have something to sink my teeth into, something with positive substance. This is an excellent example of what happens when many people pray for God's will, which was revealed today. I cannot begin to thank the scores of you folks that pray for me on a continuous basis. I am still amazed and humbled by the emails, cards, phone call, and responses I get from folks. Maybe this whole ordeal is God's way of working thru me to minister to others. Who knows ???

The game plan from here is a few more treatments and another scan around Dec. 1. Hopefully we will see more positive results. If so, then I'm off chemo and on an oral "maintenance" medication. Thank God when this happens, because chemo is whipping me pretty bad. Oh yes, I've shaved my head bald and will post a picture soon. Got a snazzy LiveSTRONG yellow hat, I wear it all the time. This after scorching my head after shaving it...no hat and no sunscreen = idiot sunburn. DUH!

Okay, out for now. I will continue to update the blog as new things reveal themselves.

Till next time, Brian...

Mowhawk time!

2005-09-26T10:51:00.000-05:00

Man, do I look devious or what ??? After the dinner out on the town with pink hair, we moved to the neighbors house and had a "mohawk party". Funny stuff...

PINK!

2005-09-24T10:22:00.000-05:00

And here is the end result of my "pink beauty salon" session!

Turning pink....

2005-09-24T07:11:00.000-05:00

Well, when you live with females, including the dogs, you must enjoy the color PINK! Since my hair has been falling out, we decided to have some fun and color my hair pink before shaving it off. We went out to a local restaurant and the stares from other people were hilarious. Funny thing is how people reacted based on their age. The older folks gave me the typical "that's ridiculous" look, while the younger crowd said I was "cool". Funny stuff.

Mixed results...

2005-09-21T18:07:00.000-05:00

These were the words from one of my treatment nurses, after we received the latest scan results (which has been several weeks ago; your's truly has failed to muster up the motivation to update my blog for 2 months!) "Mixed" in that the 2 lympth nodes that are enlarged due to cancer have shrunk somewhat, but now they are showing spots on my lungs. The spots are too small to "needle" (biopsy), and they aren't sure if the spots are cancerous, benign, scar tissue, etc. I've taken the info with a grain of salt and I'm simply moving forward, one day at a time.

Today has been a difficult day. I woke up this morning and literally said "this is going to be an AWESOME day". That feeling was soon squelched due to some sad news. A fellow sales rep in our industry, Craig Newbie, passed away Monday morning at 2AM. Craig was 54, and found out he had cancer earlier this year. The last I heard several months ago was that he was doing great and was recovering just fine. Little did I know that his cancer came back and took him quickly. The news brought back the agonizing feelings of when I first found out about my cancer, and the ultimate fear of the unknown. I vividly remember May 9 of this year. It was a day when my liver enzyemes were going haywire and the doctors didn't know what to tell me. As I sat outside of the cancer center the thought crossed my mind "Is this the last May 9th I'm going to see? Am I going to make it another year? Month? Day?" It was a sobering experience, I can tell you that. Painful thoughts....

The last 2 months have brought about many changes. My chemo cocktails have been revised. One of the targeted therapy drugs was causing some major neuropathy problems. Anything cold to the touch or the tongue felt like I was being stabbed by a thousand needles. A cold beverage was simply impossible to drink. It felt like drinking a cup full of broken glass. My hands and feet felt the same when the cool air from the air conditioning in our home was on. I had to wears gloves and socks, this in the heat of the summer. Weird stuff. I even ended up in the ER at 2AM one morning. I woke up feeling like I couldn't breathe, which is a common side affect of this particular drug. I told Kimberly she should call 911 just to make sure I don't kick the bucket in the middle of the night. In only a few minutes we had 5 guys in my bedroom at 1:30AM! The fire/rescue squad showed up along with an ambulance. Needless to say, my neighbors were freaking out over what was happening. My next door neighbor told me days later that "you couldn't have been that bad off because you were wearing a baseball hat when they wheeled you to the ambulance." He was right, and I didn't even remember putting on a hat to hide my bed-head hairdo. Blame it on chemo-brain...

The latest revision took away the previously mentioned drug and added a different one. The oncologist told me they would do 3 more treatments and scan me again to check the progress. Well, the first 2 treatments went off without a hitch. When I showed up 2 Monday's ago for the 3rd treatment, they said my white cell counts were down and they asked if I would be upset if they delayed treatment for a week. This is similar to asking a 3 year old if she wants some candy, ice cream, and a soda, all at once. When my doc asked me this I told her I would gladly give her a kiss, to which she respectfully refused . I felt like I was being paroled from prison! The same thing happened again this Monday, 2 days ago. My white cell counts are down even lower, so now there is cause for concern. Wear a mask and gloves in public, avoid contact with anyone, etc. So....I'm housebound for a few days. They are giving me injections that should boost the bone marrow to produce more white blood cells. Man, if it isn't one thing it's another...this coupled with the fact that I'm starting to loose my hair. This is an expected side affect from the latest chemo drug, something that wasn't a concern with the previous chemo drugs. Frankly, I could care less about loosing my hair. I don't like jewelry, and I certainly don't care about how my hair looks. Bald is fine w/me. My wife said to wait to shave my head because it would scare our 10 year old. Being the man-knucklehead that I am, I promptly asked Brookie if she wanted to help me shave my head because my hair was falling out. YES! That would be cool! was her response. So much for concern here, eh??? Kids are so resilient.

I never thought I would ever say this, but I now know that cancer has been the best thing that could ever happen to me. A month ago I wouldn't have said this. But something has changed in me over the last few weeks. Craig's death this week, some recent sermons in church, the undeniable thought that NO ONE is guaranteed tomorrow, and so on and so on. We don't know when our life ticket will be revoked. I fully realized this in church last Sunday. During the sermon, I noticed a daily meditation in my bible entitled "Gratitude". The author of this piece reveals some very relevant tidbits. Now to put on my preachers hat...Thank God for everything and everyone sent your way. Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It turns problems into gifts, failures into successes, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes things right. Say thank you until you mean it. If you say it long enough you will believe it. How true it is.

Don't loose focus on the important things in your life. Your family, your faith, the people that love you regardless of how messy thing can get. Think about how we normally go thru our day. A cell phone to one ear, the kids screaming in the background, the stress of your job...you get the jist. For me, the crusty exterior has been removed. The things that I stressed out about months ago and long gone from my memory, much less my stress level. The fringe stuff just isn't worth the anxiety. I've learned to be thankful - expressing gratitude - for everything in my life. Let's face it...you can think you are in control of your own destiny. Reality says it's all in God's hands, not mine or yours. That being said, I'm rolling thru life with a smile on my face and some faith in my pocket. Ain't life grand?

Till next time...Brian.

Moving forward…slowly…

2005-07-18T18:16:00.000-05:00

Hello to all from virtual Bloggerville. I’m getting treatment #3 as I am writing this, so there’s plenty of time on my end to update everyone as each treatment lasts about 6 hours. I often get the question “what are the actual treatments like?” Basically, you sit in a room and get an IV drip of the various medications while you stare at the ceiling. Being that I can’t sit still for more than 2 minutes, I tend to fill up the time during treatment with various activities. Today it’s a laptop and blog update.

A lot has happened since my last post. If you will recall, my liver was going haywire due to unknown reasons. I went through a biopsy and they ruled out any permanent damage such as hepatitis, cirrhosis, Wilson’s disease, etc. Anesthesia from the surgery can elevate numbers, drugs can elevate numbers, heck, your liver filters out all the bad stuff so there are a bunch of things going into my body that could cause problems. But they still weren’t exactly sure what was going on. If I continued to get chemo treatments, my liver could potentially be permanently damaged, so….I needed to find out what was happening. I started getting frustrated and finally thought “I wonder what my numbers were before my surgery in March?” This was a valid question due to the fact that I had slightly elevated numbers 2 years ago during a routine annual physical. A phone call to my surgeon’s office revealed a major clue. All of my liver enzymes were normal prior to surgery. What does this mean? The stress of surgery, the medications, the anesthesia, the chemo; you name it, all of this stuff was affecting my liver. Finally! I have some relief from the suspense of wondering why my liver enzymes were going off the charts. Poor thing, I can just see my liver placing an ad in the personals > “Liver, sensitive and easily inflamed, seeking non-toxic relationship. Call…” Okay, I know, I’m losing it. I blame it on chemo. It does strange things to the brain.

July 4th was spent with friends in Charleston and we had a blast. Their children are our god children, and the three of them are a hoot. It was so nice to get away for a few days and enjoy life away from cancer and chemo. I got to play golf for the first time since early March and played unexpectedly well. We visited Kiawah Island, which was our honeymoon destination almost 21 years ago (man, are we getting old…). We had appetizers on top of a hotel in historic downtown Charleston with the balmy breezes coming off the ocean and a wonderful view of the setting sun over the water. It was a fabulous weekend that allowed us to get away from it all, if only for a few days. We finished the weekend with fireworks imported from SC and illegally launched in NC. Half the neighborhood showed up soon after the fireworks started, and we did a fairly good job. You know the rockets mounted on the end of a long wooden stick that shoot up into the air and explode? Well, we had a bunch of those, and we successfully hit our neighbor’s roof and a pine tree above another neighbor’s home. Good thing it had been raining a lot because we could have set something on fire! Ah yes, nothing like some sensible, mature, adult fun (and we wonder why our kids do stupid things).

July 5th found me back at the Cancer Center for treatment #2. It had been 7 weeks since treatment #1, yet I’m supposed to be on an every other Monday schedule. The delay was due to the terrible side affects I encountered after my first treatment (see post below entitled “Honeymoon’s over…”). Before treatment started, my research nurse showed up with a concerned look on her face. I asked her what was wrong, and she proceeded to tell me that I was going to be removed from the clinical study. She anticipated disappointment on my behalf, but I expressed quite the opposite. What if this new, cutting edge drug was causing some of the major problems I had from the first treatment? Sure enough, I went through the second treatment without the terrible mouth sores and painful acne. The acne was expected, the mouth sores and their severity were a first for my oncologist in all of his years of practice. I’ve since told her this was my contribution to the clinical study; mouth sores so bad that you can’t eat, talk, or hardly drink for 5+ days. Ouch!

The days following the second treatment were spent in anxious anticipation of the dreaded side affects. Will they be as bad as the last time? Will I be out of commission for days? (Pun intended, I am in sales and make my living on commissions.) Will the nausea and vomiting come back again? Can I travel to see my customers in Charlotte and Raleigh without thinking twice about leaving home and not having access to a medication I may need at a moments notice? Thankfully, only the nausea hit me this time. Got sick a few times, but it wasn’t anything major. I now better understand morning sickness for all those expectant-mommies-to-be. The funny thing is the nausea is not always constant; it sometimes hits me like a bullet, sends me to my knees in an instant, and then goes away. I did find something that helps offset the nausea. Bubblegum. When I got that nasty feeling in my gut, I popped a piece of Double Bubble in my mouth and it helped alleviate the feeling about half the time. Hey, it works for me so don’t laugh!

During a recent Sunday sermon, our pastor said you need to “spend less time looking in the mirror and more time looking out the window.” Perfectly stated in my opinion. So many of us are wrapped up in our own stuff. I’m as guilty as the next guy, but I have noticed a change since I was diagnosed with cancer. I don’t know about you, but throughout my life I’ve often wondered – what would I do if I heard the words “you have cancer?” My exclusive response was not good, pretty typical. Stress, anxiety, fear, the “Oh my God!” syndrome and visions in my brain of me running out the door with my arms flailing and my hair on fire. Surprisingly, it has been quite the opposite. Right after my diagnosis, my wife prayed for peace. God has clearly delivered what was requested. I am not consumed with fear, constantly wondering what’s going to happen next. The Rev. Billy Graham was interviewed a couple years ago by Larry King, and Larry asked Rev. Graham if he feared death. His response? No! I’m looking forward to it! How many of us can say that? I don’t think I’m that far along yet, but I do know that whatever happens is in God’s hands, not mine. I deeply feel God has a plan for me and it’s something big. What is it? Don’t ask, He hasn’t told me yet. But I do have the gut feeling that my work on this earth is far from done, and a little voice is telling me to get ready, you are about to embark on a journey that will blow you away. It gets me excited just to think about it. If anything it’s fun to let your mind go wild with anticipation of what it could be, what it may be.

As I’ve said so many times but could never say enough, “thank you” to everyone that has stayed in touch with me, prayed for me, cooked for my family, mowed my lawn, given me hugs, etc. I am amazed at the far reaching response I continue to get from folks I don’t even know. People keep saying “I’m sure you’re sick of talking about all you’re going through”, but I’m not. The talking and writing is therapeutic for me. The cool thing is my mind continues to expand as I go through this experience and I feel compelled to share it with others, especially those that are fighting their own battles. I’ve had so many people tell me I’m brave, courageous, fearless, even inspiring. Brave? Not in my opinion. Courageous? Well, you have to do what you have to do. Fearless? Come see me at 3AM when I can’t sleep due to my concern about _____ (fill in the blank with whatever ails you). Inspiring? That is a wonderful compliment. What I’ve come to understand is a magic little word that means so much to everyone on this planet, regardless of race, religion, gender, age – you name it. It is a word that defines your next move, your motivation or lack thereof. It brings a smile to your face, relief to your exhausted mind. Not having it causes extreme stress, anxiety, and even thoughts of ending your life. Think about this for a minute…what could that be in one word yet is something that is huge? Hope. Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope that things will get better. Hope that you will survive the turmoil that may currently surround you and even consume you. Hope that the next horizon will reveal a rising sun that will illuminate your world with a warm glow that soothes the soul. Hope that somehow, some way, you are going to emerge on the other side and be rewarded for your persistence, for your patience, and for your perseverance. Have you ever seen the movie The Big Chill? In one of the opening scenes there is a funeral for a young man that committed suicide. The movie is based in coastal South Carolina, and all of his friends from college gathered at a small, low country church where the congregation sits in the pews with fans in their hands to break the stifling heat. The preacher, an older gentleman with a weary look on his face, delivered a sermon that ended with the line “where did the hope go” for this young man that took his life? For many of us, we have lost hope. Where did it go? For me, oddly enough, it took cancer for me to find hope. It took cancer to open my eyes, look out the window, and enjoy the beautiful view in front of me. When is the last time you marveled at a field of colorful flowers? When is the last time you woke up to a sunny morning and said out loud “this is going to be an AWESOME day!” For me, both of these things happened before 9AM today, before going in for another round of chemo cocktails. I’ve never been one to take anything for granted. I’ve always stopped and literally smelled the roses, because they have a wonderfully delicious scent. But there were times, too many of them, that I now realize I was looking into the mirror. I was consumed with my own trials, so much so that it was breaking me down slowly like a river cutting a canyon into the earth. Don’t let this happen to you, you are too valuable to those around you. I’ve set a goal to bring happiness, laughter, and inspiration to those I come in contact with, as often as I can. When I see other people respond positively to my demeanor, it makes ME happy, even if I do have cancer. Selfish fulfillment while helping others. Not a bad deal.

So, how do I close this up? Every day, I thank God for what He has given me. A beautiful family, the opportunity to worship when and where I please, chocolate chip ice cream on a sugar cone from Baskins Robbins, watching Lance Armstrong LiveSTRONG by kicking everyone’s butt in the Tour de France for the seventh time and this after beating insurmountable odds in his battle with cancer several years ago, a job that rewards me for performing above and beyond by recognizing my skills and paying me in the process, a Friday night and into Saturday morning at Hemingway’s in downtown Greensboro with friends and having fun, a large Dr. Pepper, playing tug of war with a pug that has bad breath…you get the drift. It’s all good and I’m thankful for every bit of it.

Till next time, Brian.

Fun in Charleston

2005-07-18T18:09:00.000-05:00

Suspense Aliviated...(maybe)

2005-06-29T00:49:00.000-05:00

Okay, how do you decifer what the doctor(s) say into something that you and I can understand? I need something like a Spanish language translator, except this needs to be a medical translator...whatever.

The biopsy results show no "abnormalities or permanent damage". Great! Right? Yes, well, maybe. There is still something causing the liver enzymes to elevate. Chemo? Not really because they were elevated prior to starting chemo (but certainly possible nonetheless because chemo is a toxin that is filtered by the liver). There may be "minimal acute chronic hepatitis"...but wait, my labs were negative for Hep A/B/C. Right? Well yes, but...okay, I am officially confused. Whatever again. The main thing is the latest labs show a sharp decline in the elevated numbers, so I'm moving in the right direction.

I see the onc on Friday, and right now I'm scheduled for chemo #2 on Tuesday July 5. This comes 7 weeks after the first and only treatment on May 16. I'm supposed to go every 2 weeks; obviously I am way off schedule. I reluctantly say I'm ready to go for #2. I cringe when I think about how nasty #1 was, but the concern about microscopic cancer cells floating around in my body unchecked makes me cringe even more. So the lesser of two evils wins the mental battle (or is it the greater of two evils? Still confused...) . I keep reminding myself that I have it so much better than many other folks battling cancer. For this I am both grateful and hopeful. For those reading this post who have cancer >> NEVER, EVER QUIT. I simply refuse to let this take me down.

Till next time, Brian.

Suspense...(cont'd)

2005-06-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

Well, never a dull moment around here. The liver biopsy went off without a hitch last Friday. It was rather uneventful, if anything it was downright relaxing. After a valium induced nap I woke up to the doc saying "okay we're done, do you want to see the samples?" I said sure and he showed me a small vial with a clear fluid in it, and 3 "strings" of my liver. They looked like skinny worms. Hey, maybe that's my problem...I have worms!

Depending on whom you listen to, it will be either 3-5 days or 7-10 days until the results are back. This is a classic example of what you encounter when you deal with the medical community. Not everyone is on the same page. Thank goodness my wife plays traffic cop with a lot of this stuff.

Chemo is still on hold until we figure out what's up with my liver enzymes. You know, it's kind of refreshing that I don't have to do chemo, but at the same time it's very concerning because I know the cancer is in there slowly multiplying, slowly moving forward like a silent killer. I now fully understand the meaning behind the saying "Hope for the best and expect the worst".

Till next time, Brian...

Suspense...

2005-06-15T11:51:00.000-05:00

Hello to all from la-la land...where you feel like you really don't know what in the world is going on. Allow me to explain.

Treatment #2 (which was delayed 2 weeks due to the severity of side affects from treatment #1) was supposed to happen Monday of this week. Went in, did my labs, got hooked up to begin and suddenly "STOP" was the word from a nurse. Seems that my labs indicated something going haywire with my liver enzymes. Upper end of the normal range is a 40, my reading was 256. Clinically speaking this is a stage 3, with stage 5 being the highest. Long story short, you can't (you shouldn't; we're thinking about it >> hence the "la-la land") get chemo because that can permanently damage the liver. Soooo...they set me up to get an MRI Monday evening to see if the cancer has spread to the liver. Results from the MRI revealed no spread to the liver, but, we still don't know why the numbers are so high. I've got an appt. tomorrow morning to see a "liver dude". We'll see if he can figure it out. Needless to say, this is very frustrating. I need the chemo to kill the cancer. I can't (shouldn't; we're not sure) take the chemo if it potentially whacks my liver. I feel like I'm on a see-saw. I've heard the words "potentially fatal" so many times now that I don't get that adrenaline rush like I used to. I feel numb at times...

Keep me in your prayers and hopefully God will reveal His plans for me soon. At this point, I'm hovering 30,000 feet over the virtual airport and I can't get clearance to land. Suspense, in a word.

FYI, I've created an online blog to journal my journey. The link is below. You'll find all my updates that have been sent out as emails, plus a few miscellaneous updates that I did on the blog only. Feel free to share this with friends/family/acquaintances. There are also a couple of pictures of the family, including Dumb and Dumber, a.k.a., Mitzy and Daisy the pugs.

Till next time...Brian.
Visit my online blog...http://briansjourney.blogspot.com/

2005-06-13T23:34:00.000-05:00

Stoll's

Another Delay...

2005-06-13T23:03:00.000-05:00

A quick update to all...went back today to begin round #2 of treatments. If you will recall, this was delayed 2 weeks due to the severity of the side affects from treatment #1. Well, my liver enzymes are "elevated" and chemo plays havoc on the liver, so today's treatment was called off. My doc ordered up an MRI of the liver, with the results coming in tomorrow.

Never a dull moment. Till next time, Brian.

2005-06-13T22:41:00.000-05:00

Me and Brookie

Honeymoon's over...

2005-05-30T14:24:00.000-05:00

well, it's been a while since I've sent an update to all, so here we go...

I started chemo 2 weeks ago today, and for the last 14 days I've been in somewhat of a fog. I kept telling everyone before the chemo started that I has on my "honeymoon" - I felt great since the surgery and had not yet started the chemo. Man, did I ever underestimate chemo! The first few days after treatment really knocked me out, no energy whatsoever. I started feeling much better over the weekend, only to be hit by a bus by the name of "side affects" early last week. At one point, I was dealing with six different side affects, ranging from annoying to downright painful. The whole ordeal literally had my oncologist scratching his head. By far the most painful were (are) the mouth sores. You know when you get a canker sore in your mouth, and it makes you miserable for a few days? Try having 15 - on your tongue, your lips, your cheeks, your throat...I know, I know, it's gross to even think about it! This all started on Tuesday and I basically didn't eat until yesterday (Sunday). Lost another 10 lbs. (again), and for those that know me well know that I don't have 10 to lose! I had somebody ask me if I was worried about losing my hair, which I probably won't because the blend of chemo I'm on doesn't make you lose your hair. After last week, I'd volunteer to go bald for life! Loosing your hair would be a walk in the park...

I visited the onc this morning, and got some rather good news. Instead of blasting me again today with more chemo they're giving me 2 weeks off. This comes as welcome news. My niece is getting married in Manteo on June 11, so now I can go to the coast, relax for a few days, and enjoy their wedding without being a zombie in a human suit. Plus I plan on eating as much fat, carbohydrates, and protein as I can in 2 weeks. Woohoo!!!

Continue to pray for God's will during this time in my life. I must admit, I've had a lot of time to reflect on where I'm at today, what I've accomplished so far in life, and what the future holds. When you really slow down and think, your mind tends to expand. The little things that I used to worry about are gone; too petty. Dealing with your own mortality is what causes the brain is expand. I had my first complete and utter emotional meltdown about a week ago, and even though the treatment nurses kept telling me it would come sooner or later, I denied it because I guess I was afraid of it. Well, the body and mind can only take so much until the dam breaks and it did for me last Sunday. But it felt good to get it out. Dealing with cancer and chemo is beyond your wildest imagination. You have to go way beyond fear and anxiety, which is something that (surprisingly) I don't feel. It's more about the anger, then the resentment that something like cancer can completely derail your everyday life. When's the last time you struggled to drink a glass of iced tea? You've heard me say this before and I'll say it again; be thankful for what you have today, now. Your health, your faith, your family. Not the house, the car, or the other stuff. Be thankful for the stuff that really counts.

Finally and once again, thanks to so many of you that have cooked meals, mowed the lawn, taken care of kids, etc. Things are little bit more "normal" today than they were 2 weeks ago, but the continued support of so many of you out there is still very much appreciated. Above all, the prayers are what mean the most to me. I'm on so many prayer lists that I can't keep track of them, but I'm thankful for them all. I keep getting emails from folks that I don't even know that say they are praying for me and my family. This is so touching, what a blessing. My oldest daughter Bre wrote me the most wonderful note over the weekend, about how God has a plan for all of us and in our most difficult times in life He is carrying us through the pain, through the challenges. I am so blessed.

Till next time, take care and Godspeed to you all. Brian.

Chemo Cocktails...

2005-04-20T01:21:00.000-05:00

okay boys and girls, here's the latest and greatest from yours truly...

It's been quite busy around here, not really been able to kick back and enjoy the hiatus lately. Which by the way, I haven't been ignoring your phone calls, emails, and visits. I've been to the doc's more than I care to but alas, this is necessary when you encounter this type of adventure.

After visits to both Duke Univ. Medical Center and Wesley Long Hospital locally, I've decided to go local (not loco). The oncologists at both locations literally said the same thing re: my recommended drug treatment. However, driving 10 minutes vs. 80 minutes each way was a big factor in deciding to have my treatments here in town.

Today was a bit of a landmark, in that I finally got to meet with the cancer center folks for a Chemo Class. The idea is to learn more about chemotherapy and this wonderful blend of drugs that is my ticket back to good health. I have officially named my prescribed medications a "Chemo Cocktail", which I will imbibe once every two weeks, maybe starting next Monday. For those of you in the know, I'm on a FOLFOX regime with Avastin, which is the latest and greatest medication to compliment the Chemo Cocktails. To throw in a twist, I've been approached about participating in a clinical study for a groundbreaking cancer drug that is targeted to folks like me with colorectal cancer. The drug itself hasn't been approved by the FDA yet, hence the clinical study. Ironically, promising early results were released to the press on 3/18/2005, the day after my surgery (a day that I don't remember - if you'll recall, morphine and Mr. Brian are NOT good friends any more. Mr. Morphine made Mr. Brian VERY cranky, freaked out, and generally was not a very fun episode...) The challenge is that to be included in the clinical study, you MUST be on Avastin, which I'm scheduled for. BUT (there's always a but in here somewhere), Avastin can impede the healing process in an incision, especially one that got infected like mine. Sooooo...I won't really know exactly when I start the Cocktail Hour(s) and/or if I'll be able to participate in the clinical study. Finally, even if I do choose to participate, it's a random selection process so I might not get the drug. MAN this is complicated! My primary concern with the study (and chemo in general) is what type of side affects are going to hit me. They list everything from your hair falling out to your dog dying from eating your cat's food. Seriously, when you read all the side affects you ask "do I really need to be doing this ?!?" The obvious answer is "yes" and I'll ask for your continued prayers on God's plan for me with this issue.

As far as how long I'll be doing this, the answer is "until the cancer is gone". Right now they are telling me 3-6 months of chemo, or until I'm clear. My treatments will last 5 hours each time; once every 2 weeks. Have you ever counted the number of holes in the ceiling tiles at the dentist's office? Well, something tells me I'll have an answer for you about how many are in the ceiling at Wesley Long Cancer Center. After each treatment, they will send me home with a fabulous fanny pack filled with a pump, some more of the Chemo Cocktail, and some lovely tubing that will connect to my surgically installed port (more on that later). I'll be hooked up to this device for 46 hours (about 2 days for those of you who are slow on the math thing), at which time I go back to the Cocktail lounge and have the fine folks disconnect me. This should be about as much fun as an IRS audit, but with less pain. Re: the port, instead of popping a needle in my arm once every 2 weeks and shooting me up with chemo, I'm going to have a port surgically implanted beneath my skin, in my chest. This is scheduled for Friday at 4PM; should last about an hour and I should be able to go home after recovery IF there aren't any complications. It basically looks like a half-round rubber bulb, about the size of a quarter. From the back of the port is a catheter that will tap into one of my arteries. Just like the chemo drugs, there are possible complications with the port surgery. In the words of my surgeon, "if we hear air escaping from your lungs while we are poking around looking for an artery, we get really discouraged really fast". Okay, I guess you had to be there because I did laugh when he said this. The port will allow a relatively pain free infusion of chemo without looking like a heroin addict. They can even draw blood for lab work from the port, which makes me smile. Tapping into the veins in my arms is not very much fun in my opinion...read: "I am a pain weenie".

Right now I feel great - not including the lingering pain in my incision - so hopefully the Cocktails don't have an ill affect on me. As far as work, I should be good to go in a couple of weeks. Again, chemo will be the wild card with this decision. My company has been very supportive which takes a lot of stress away from me. The thing that is really driving me crazy is not being able to do the things that I want to do. NEVER take for granted your good health and mowing the grass, walking your dog, going grocery shopping, or even sneezing. Went 3 weeks without sneezing, and this during pollen season. I dare you to try THAT my friend. You simply do not know how precious and amazing your body is until it is robbed of performing like it was designed to. You also don't know how much you use your stomach muscles...I salute all mommies that delivered their children via C-section!

Many, many thanks to everyone who has helped our family in so many different ways. Meals, cards, words of encouragement, child care, dog care, mowing the lawn, washing my car - you name it. If anyone wants to paint my house, go right ahead. Gray with white trim, pretty basic. My wife, my kids, and my parents have done so much for me that I cannot begin to thank them enough. Fortunately, my wife hasn't killed me yet, because I have been driving her crazy! And for those of you that are afraid to give me a call, call me! You don't have to say "I'm sorry..." because there isn't anything to be sorry for. Someone asked me the other day if I was scared. My honest reply is that I'm not. God has a plan for me and I'm watching it unfold right before my eyes. If you've heard the song "Live Like You Are Dying" on the radio recently, well, that song pretty much sums up my feelings right now. But I will NOT be riding a bull named Fu Man Chu....even if is only 2.7 seconds.

Okay, enough for now. Didn't realize you were going to get your skull filled with this kind of stuff, did you? Keep those cards and letters coming...going to the mailbox is the highlight of my day. That and Oprah...oh my gosh, I've lost it...I'll keep you posted.

After surgery...

2005-03-22T17:02:00.000-05:00

hello to all, I am back from "the dark side"...got to come home from the hospital yesterday morning. Pain and fatigue are the two biggies right now, but I do feel pretty good. Being in a hospital was downright depressing, especially for those of us who are ADHD and can't sit still, even when your gut has been cut open. By the way, they were not able to do the procedure laparoscopic as planned, so I got the traditional surgery. Kind of like a C-section without a kid to benefit from it!

Well, the surgery went as well as can be expected, but you can never fully prepare yourself for the stuff that happens after the surgery. Saturday was easily the most difficult and painful day of my life. I won't go into great detail, but rest assured I would have paid upwards of $1,000 for a single box of Gas-X. Okay, you now get the idea...

I actually had to go to the emergency room Wednesday evening (surgery was Thursday) because I became dehydrated and the meds were giving me some bad nausea. Wesley Long was completely full, so I had to go to Moses Cone, spend the night there, then they transported me by ambulance back to WL for the surgery. From Thursday to somewhere late Saturday, I have little recall of what happened and who came by to see me. Which by the way, if you did come by and I said anything offensive, I blame it on the meds and the surgery! Apparently I said some rather spicy things to some folks, all of which I don't remember. Morphine and I do NOT get along well at all...

I gotta give thanks to my wife and parents, who spent the entire time at the hospital with me. My poor dad spent the night with me at Moses Cone, and he didn't realize until the next morning that the chair he was in was a recliner...darn nurses should have helped him out!

Well, I must go for now. As weird as it is, a simple email like this wipes me out. Thanks again to all for prayers, support, visits, meals, etc. They mean a lot to me and my family. I'll be in touch, B.

No spread...

2005-03-11T17:49:00.000-05:00

good news from the surgeon today. My CT scan showed no evidence of the cancer spreading to other organs. There are 2 lymph nodes that are involved, which will be removed with the tumor (apparently this is common). Another node is enlarged and will be assessed during the surgery.

THANK YOU for the prayers, phone calls, and emails. Keep 'em coming as I have way too much time on my hands right now!

Looking forward to next Thursday, Brian.

Breaking the News...

2005-03-08T23:49:00.000-05:00

Okay boys and girls, I need to bring you up to speed if you haven't heard the latest. Long story short, I was diagnosed with colon cancer last Friday. As of today, I am scheduled for surgery next Thursday, March 17, and I should be out of work for approximately 6 weeks. From there I will probably have to go through chemo treatment for another few weeks. At this point we don't know if the cancer is confined to the colon itself or if it's spread to other areas. This info will be available after the surgery and the biopsy of the tumor.

Tomorrow I go in for x-rays and a CT scan, which will give a picture of my "innards" and will help determine if there are tumors beyond the colon. Golf is on the calendar this weekend because I won't be able to play for another few months!

The purpose of this email is to "get the word out" to as many of you as possible, and as accurately as possible. My phone has been ringing constantly since Monday morning due to the fact the word has already gotten out. My spirits are high and I am confident I will make a full and cancer free recovery.

This has been a shocker as you can imagine, but it's not something that has consumed me with fear. I accept the fact that it's happened, and I look forward to the surgery and finding out the overall prognosis. Your prayers and support mean the most to me and my family.

I'll keep you posted. Feel free to forward this email to your friends, family, and church members. I enjoy the email replies and the phone calls. Again, feel free to call me; I'm in sales, I ain't afraid to talk. Brian.

PS - for those of you who feel compelled to send flowers, may I suggest a donation to "Breanne's Diabetes Blasters"? I believe all of you are familiar w/JDRF and have been kind enough to donate in the past. This will go a whole lot further than flowers! Thanks.