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6/30 - Monday

I learned my angiogram is tomorrow.  Should be short and sweet.  Takes about 30 minutes - but with prep and recovery, I'm out most of the day.

The catheter will be inserted in my femoral artery - extending up to my heart and inject the coronary arteries with a radioactive dye.  That will enable an x-ray photo of my heart to reveal any blockages.  Its the possibility of blockages that might be causing the angina (chest pain) which they hope to rule out by this procedure.

I'll let you know how it goes.  Ciao for now, my friends.

6/29 - Sunday

No word yet on potential angiogram.

Played golf yesterday with a doctor friend - he understood my slow pace, and was nearly as bad as I was on the course.  It was a good time, although I spent a good deal of time riding the cart.  

I'm getting swamped with Coast Guard work - too many hot projects going on - "Joel, we really need you on this one!".  Ha.

That brings me to a question I've had for some time - when you ask someone "how's it going", and they say, "Man I'm super busy...I've got this...and that...and we're going here...and things are just crazy," does that mean anything?  Are we impressed they are so busy?  Or are they a poor time manager and can't arrange things smoothly?  Does it mean they're just so valuable and important life can't go on without them?   Or does it mean they can't prioritize, they've lost focus and life is just a crazy mess?

I think I'd rather say (and hear) - "Things are fine.  Sure life's hectic, but I'm taking time to smell the roses, call friends, pray, play and do things that matter most.  I set my pace - and its just right."  

You know, just saying that sentence seems to calm things down a bit, doesn't it?

After all, the President goes to bed at 10 p.m., he eats dinner with his family, and finds time to workout, pray and play during his day.  

I think I can too.

6/24 - Tuesday

Coast Guard work - then to appointment with cardiologist.  

The cardiologist visit concluded that my angina (chest pain) was most likely a side-effect from chemo - chemo-induced vasospasms.  That can be handled in part by medication to open up by blood vessels (calcium channel blocker) and in part by reducing any exertion.  

There is a slight chance, though small, that a blockage could be causing the angina.

A procedure called an angiogram will be done to take a picture of my coronary arteries, ruling out any potential blockages caused by factors other than chemo.  An angiogram is a 30-minute procedure, inserting a catheter in my femoral artery (thigh) and placing dye into the coronary arteries - enabling an X-ray picture of my heart.  

I'll know more after I hear from our oncologist.

6/23 - Monday

Back to Coast Guard work.

Its another gorgeous Florida day....perfect for a snorkel, swimsuit, and surfboard.  

6/22 - Sunday

I just read the article printed about me in the New Prague Times - my hometown newspaper from Minnesota.  They had called a few days ago - so I suspected it might be printed soon.  

While I am appreciative of any chance to tell my story, and perhaps bring hope to others going through similar challenges...I have mixed feelings about the published article.  My impression of our conversation was a bit different than what was written.  In the end...its not a big deal...they're good people with good hearts.  But the article simply didn't emphasize my desire to beat cancer, nor my reliance on my closest, lifelong friends from high school as much as I hoped it might.

I mentioned my feelings to Jen yesterday...and she said despite other's best efforts, no one will write how I feel as accurately as I can.

She's right.  So although I'm the village idiot when it comes to finding the right words to say...here goes:

To my high school friends...among others in my amazing support network...I just want to tell you what an unshakable rock you've been to me during the past 15 months. When we needed it most...you called, you wrote, you e-mailed, you visited, you prayed.  You showed up...in really important ways.  If I live to be 100, I will never find the words to describe how much your outpouring of compassion meant to Jennifer and I.

We all have a journey - mine has cancer, yours might have something else.  We all have our own burdens to bear.  Know that God is in control, and if you're asked to carry a heavy load, its because He believes you can.  Finish the race set before you...whatever that is.  Thanks for showing me what enduring friendship is all about.  I hope I can someday help you carry your burden in as loving and unselfish way as you have done for me.  

I hope to see you again soon.

6/21 - Saturday

Jen and I are taking care of yard work.  Nothing exciting...but soaking up the Florida sun feels good.

I have been getting questions on my diet and nutrition plan.  Some people send suggestions, some want to know what I'm doing.  So I made a page that shows you my day from a diet and nutrition perspective - click here.

6/17 - Tuesday

Bone pain is at full throttle - no complaints, just telling it like it is.

Bone pain is caused by Taxol...which I was given during Friday's treatment.  

To share the feeling with me, drive nails through your major joints, then put a mixture of sand and broken glass in the rest of them.  There you go.  Now, go get a good night's  sleep...:-)

Knowing it ends in about 48 hours makes it o.k.  I'm living on Tylenol.

I should actually keep my mouth shut.  I probably just described how post-pregnant mothers feel...right after giving birth...and then nursing 3 times a night.

I'll take the Taxol.

6/16 - Monday

Back to work.

Jen is headed north to see her family - her Dad is having a heart procedure today.  She's such a rock - healthy and strong, nothing wrong.  She's always taking care of the rest of us.  She deserves a break.

6/15 - Sunday

Fever broke last night.  What a relief.  Its amazing what two degrees can do.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!  Hope you know I'm thinking about you...and thank you for so much love and support through all this.  Wish you didn't have to worry about me.

6/14 - Saturday

Still fighting off a 100-degree fever - not quite enough to go to emergency room...but enough to make life suck.  I didn't sleep much last night.  I'm not allowed to take Tylenol in case the fever was indicating a real infection.  So it just had to run its course.

6/13 - Friday

Chemo #40.  Prior chemo regimen continues - Taxol + Xeloda.  This treatment went like all others - no better, no worse.  Jen was by my side.  I got nauseas, got over it, and 6 hours later - we were headed home.  Through the rest of the day, I fought off a low-grade fever I somehow acquired through the week.  I knew I had been fighting off a dull headache...maybe that had something to do with it.

While I was out of it - Dr. Niederman showed Jennifer a comparison of PET scan results - the recent scan versus 3 months ago.  The difference was quite remarkable.  The tumor load had decreased up to 80% in certain places.  One of the tumors in my liver had grown to the size of a kidney.  Even though some of the tumors are dead - my body needs to slowly absorb that old, dead tissue...so I still feel the bulk in certain places.  I'm glad its not growing.   

The overall current tumor burden is still being higher than last March - but we're thankful for the good news.  Thanks for your prayers.

While fading in and out of a Benadryl stupor -- I noticed an older man two chairs down the row getting chemo...his wife by his side.   We chemo patients often ask about each others diseases - hoping to learn something.  I asked a few questions - learned about his situation, and then learned his wife was fighting stage 4 stomach cancer like me.  And she was sitting there comforting him!  Can you imagine both husband and wife going through this hell at the same time?!  I don't know how they did it.  I always knew things could be worse.   Now I had proof positive I need to suck it up and hang in there.

6/8 - Sunday

As I slowly get ready for church...and look at the skin peeling off my hands from chemo...I became a bit introspective.  (that happens when your frame of reference is staying alive) 

I've come to realize a truth I heard long ago...the pain of regret is greater than the pain of discipline.

Now living some of that truth, I share the deeply personal introspection written in a slow, moving, soulful song from Bryan Duncan.  It well describes my heartfelt gratitude for a second chance.  Its a hard look in the mirror.  

Despite my own mistakes...and chances missed, a faithful and loving God remains.   That never ceases to amaze me.

"The Last Time I Was Here" (Bryan Duncan - 1998)

The last time I was here...
I can remember standing tall
but looking up to face the door;
I can recall each room as large 
and not that I was small,
I was a child of course, 
I was a child of yours.

The last time I was here...
how could I have known
I'd be awakened by 
the loss of things held dear,
and that my coming back
would mark the fact, 
I've come full circle, 
I've done the work I'm stronger for;
I couldn't ask for more.

Stay with me awhile,
God of all that's come and gone
You are the faithful Rose of Sharon,
You are the morning's final dawn
I need you to pray with me awhile,
Let me feel your strength in me
Here in the cradle of my soul,
Let me let all else now go;
I've gone around the world,
to find the precious pearl...was here all along.

The last time I was here...
I thought I knew the score,
I thought my world was in my own control;
I cursed a lot of things, I blamed my chains
My lack of strength,
the simple length of time I've known
laid now before your throne.

Stay with me awhile...

I'm slowly but surely realizing so many things...personal things that need a change...internal and external...re-fashioning Joel into someone I can be proud of...someone Christ can be proud of.  When your life hangs in the balance, and you fully realize you have nothing but today, what else matters?  

Don't we all need some work?  Maybe not, maybe its just me. 

My change is occurring slowly, and often with much difficulty...but its happening.  With God's grace, the prayers of those who love me, and a little of my own sweat and tears...I'm getting there.

I still hate cancer.  But if its a wake-up call...a chance to refocus, strengthen and improve who I am...then I'll take it.

Ciao for now.   I've got a life to live.  Thanks for living it with me.

6/6 - Friday

I got your e-mails about the PET scan results...thanks from the bottom of my heart.  The tumors are back to the size when I started chemo last March.

Working from home today.  A little light George Winston piano music is playing in the background while I crank away on the keyboard.  The house is otherwise quiet. 

I glanced out the window.  Its early on a warm Florida morning, sun just coming up, dew still in drops on the backyard plants.  Looking more closely, through the dusty rays of the morning sun, I see an entire bug-sized ecosystem waking up and doing their morning thing.  They're oblivious to cars whizzing by, traffic jams, office chatter and printers that won't work.

I wonder if bugs worry about cancer.  Do they get sore antennae?  Cracked feet?  Nausea?

Then I see a blue jay swoop down out of nowhere and grab one of the bugs off a leaf.  I guess it was time for breakfast.  I chuckle to myself.  We all have our concerns, don't we?

Smiling to myself...I turn back to my computer work....glad I don't have to worry about being eaten by big blue birds.

Today...I'm content with just being alive.

6/4 - Wednesday

Our doctor called me with good news about the PET scan results.  This chemo is working.  While he didn't note dramatic progress, he said its headed in the right direction.  The rampage to overtake my body has been halted and reversed...for now.  Since the tumors are being affected by this chemo...we'll stick with it.

Nothing in the Pancreas.  That spot on the CT scan was likely a lymph node.

God gave me another day...another sunrise...another day to do good things.

You have no idea how this feels.  Jen and I were braced for anything...had to be.  We were resolved to remain steadfast in the faith God might show up big time...while also being ready for the medical reality of an ugly disease.  God put a turn in our journey...this time for the better.  I found myself almost looking for the reason why.  Sort of asking myself, "Why were these PET scan results good...after so much bad news?"  You get that way.  But that's the upturn we needed.  I was growing weary.

My heart medication continues - Norvasc (to prevent chemo-induced vasospasms).  The skin on my hands and feet are cracked and peeling...a side-effect from the Xeloda.  I carry a bottle of lotion with me everywhere.  Who cares.  I'm alive.

Thanks for your prayers.  They work.  I have no idea how...but I believe they do.  

6/3 - Tuesday

PET scan.