Sunday, Fun Day. Post Surgery Quick Update

10.24.21

As most of you have heard, things have gone really well this weekend. Thank you for your thoughts, notes, prayers, love...they worked!

Truthfully, I don't remember a thing from the surgery - which is a good thing. I remember the anesthesiologist reaching for my IV and saying they were starting 'calming' meds first. Liar. I was out like a light immediately. I awoke a few hours later in the recovery room. I feel like I should remember stuff from that time, but I don't remember a lot of that either.

Soon after recovery, they took me up to my room, where I have been since Friday afternoon. Apparently, I was first supposed to have a roommate, but because I have sleep apnea, Brandi was able to talk me into my own room. I'm quite thankful for that. It has allowed me freedom to watch what I want, listen to the Dead & Co shows the past 2 nights from Colorado, and walk around as I please. Much more relaxing.

The surgeon says that all went well and has continued to look good. He indicated the tumor was about the size of a golf ball and they took out about 1.5 feet of my colon in order to test all of it - including plenty of lymph nodes. At this point, the surgeon saw no signs of spread. And so we wait for pathology Tuesday or Wednesday.

My Friday spirits were greatly uplifted by a visit from an old friend from high school. I have been in touch with Brian over social media for years, but I probably haven't seen him in person in 30. Glad we got that corrected and I hope that it won't be the last time we get to hang out in real life.

My Saturday spirits were greatly uplifted by my brother Brian, who flew in from Arizona to help with the boys Friday. I'm sure it was an exhausting 24+ hours for him, but he's such a good person. I was happy to see him, even though I was sleepy, and I'm so grateful for his help.

To be honest, the pain has not been bad at all - more pressure. Imagine a 10 pound weight sitting on your bellybutton all day.  That's basically how I feel. I'm walking, eating, and watching sports. As Nadav said, "So, like a typical weekend for you." So yes, as 'normal' as possible. Thanks to everyone's help, the boys have had a normal weekend and I am grateful for that.

I probably could have gone home today, but the doctor indicated that that would be on the 'fast' side of things. It's tempting to think about being home, but I promised Brandi and everyone else that I would take care of myself first - going against most of my natural instincts. So I told the doctor that I am in no rush and wouldn't mind staying one more night to make sure the piping is flowing well.

Also, I am having some blood pressure issues, so I guess this is a good time to take a look at that.

That's the quick scoop. Minimal pain, no narcotics, healing quickly at this point, and waiting for the biopsy reports Tuesday or Wednesday.

Grateful to everyone for the love & prayers.
Grateful to everyone that has gotten their screenings scheduled - early detection saves lives!

We got this!
#GratefulFighters

Twas the Night Before Surgery...

10.21.21

When I was in high school, a lifetime ago, we had to write a parody poem and I recall writing one called, "Twas the Night Before Finals..." I considered doing the same here, but I will spare you, for now. 

Ironically though, just the other day I was talking about my lyrical prowess and ability to turn any traditional song or poem into a twisted, demented bastardization (or parody, if you will) of the original. It was a hilarious memory and distraction that arose in a conversation with my buddies on the Marco Polo App, as they continued to offer their encouragement and support leading up to surgery tomorrow.

And with that, I have delicately spun a yarn from the "Twas the Night..." parody to the real focus of this last post before the doc skewers me and gives me the weight-loss surgery I have long dreamed of having: YOU, my friends, my loves, my generous network of #GratefulFighters who are in my corner and rooting me on to battle.

Today, I arrived at my office desk to find the package pictured above, and over the last few days, we have received an outpouring of cards and generous gestures from colleagues and friends. And, many others have signed up to provide us with meals for what seems like the rest of 2021, have offered to help the kids with carpools, etc. It is not in my nature to accept gifts or handouts (some of you have often been frustrated by my gift refusal).  I am much more comfortable being the one to provide help, comfort, an ear/shoulder to lean on, and hugs. I'm not going to lie - accepting all of this generosity hasn't been easy for me, but I am working on it. That being said, I am incredibly humbled and grateful for all of the gifts/meals/help.

Even more overwhelming and absolutely incredible, though, has been the public and private notes of support I have received from new friends and from friends I have literally known for several decades. Notes of support from colleagues, friends I have met along my musical journey, camp friends (Ramah and OSRUI), family, parents of the boys' friends who we have met on the sport-fields, and parking lots, and carpool lanes, and school events over the years, neighbors, Brandi's friends, my friends and their spouses, my Shorashim Israel family, and more. I have gotten messages from Thailand, from Israel, from over a dozen different US states (and that's a conservative estimate), and from Toronto and Windsor, Canada (I am so stressed I'm missing a group of folks...and if so, it's not intentional!).

I am in awe of the massive network of blessings, love, and support that we have amassed throughout this world - and there just are not enough words to do any justice to how each message and wish has made me feel. So just know, the outpouring has been incredibly powerful and I will be eternally grateful to each and every one of you in my corner. And know these things:

• I hear and feel each one of you who have reached out. Yes, I mean it - every single darn one of you. It has made a difference, filling my heart and bolstering my positive mindset.
• I am so grateful to those who have reached out and shared their own battles and journeys. Your experiences and paths help make my own path more clear and less lonely.
• I am appreciative to those of you who have told me that my words are providing some meaning and voice to your own journeys.
  
• I celebrate each person who has reached out to let me know that they have scheduled their own screenings or encouraged friends and those they love to do so. Keep spreading the word: Screenings and Early Detection Saves Lives!!

I would be remiss without specifically mentioning how helpful my parents have been over the past few weeks. Even as my dad is struggling with his own battle with Lymphoma, they have provided meals and rides and support for us. I cannot imagine what my mother is going through, internally, having to manage this horrible battle on two fronts, but she is pretty incredible. The same goes for my fantastic mother-in-law, Shari, and my father-in-law, Bob. From helping with Lucy and the kids, to supporting Brandi...I just don't know how we'd do any of this without all 4 of my parents. We are indebted to them all!

Finally, I have to mention my wife who has been unbelievable since the first moment we heard those awful words just 3+ short weeks ago. Not only has she been an emotional rock for me to lean on (as she always is), but she has picked up ALL of the slack that has fallen on her shoulders as I struggle with this battle.  She works, she has taken over managing the house renovation, she deals with the kids, she helps arrange all of my appointments, she reminds me to follow the doctor's diet and instructions, and so much more. She is amazing and I know that she will need you all to support her in the days, weeks, and months to come. All warriors have to also take care of their own selves and emotions - and Brandi will have to do that as well. I am comforted to know that we have such an amazing support system, and that when she needs, she will be well cared for.

Again, not enough words to express my gratitude to you all near and far. I want each person who has reached out and touched our lives to know that I love you so much. This is a love letter to you all, and nothing short of that. Thank you so much. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you.

Please get your screenings.
Please say your prayers.

I will see all of you, my army of #GratefulFighters, on the other side when we beat this thing.

With love,

dan

Today, I cried...

10.18.21

I cried today on the way to work.

I mean, it wasn’t uncontrollable bawling, but tears were shed. Trigger? Harry Chapin’s Cats and the Cradle. I cannot point to any specific lyric, but the whole idea of the life cycle and father/son relationship in the song got me a bit misty. And of course, then I started thinking about other life cycle songs that I used to play around campfires in Illinois, Wisconsin, and Israel: Joni Mitchell’s Circle Game and Cat Steven’s Father and Son immediately came to mind too.

As most of you know, I have three sons - all at very different stages of their life cycle. And all I have been able to think about the past 3+ weeks is that there is still so much of their life cycles that I want to share. I mean, with the oldest, cartwheels are just turning to car wheels. The middle will still play catch (or kick soccer balls) with me, and the youngest is just learning to read. There’s still so much we have to go through.

And I think that that is why telling the kids about my cancer and surgery was one of the hardest things I think I have ever had to do in life. First of all, the week between my diagnosis and meeting with the oncologist to learn more details was brutal. At that time, all we knew was that the cancer could have been anywhere from stage 2-4. I had nightmares and daymares about watching the “last” soccer game or the “last” White Sox game or the “last” Shema before bed. I did my best to be optimistic, but inside there was still that nagging, “What if this is the end?”

So even though we eventually found out that the worst was unlikely and there is a lot of reason for optimism, it was still tough to sit down and actually tell the older boys. I mean, as parents we have one job: Protect and Nurture. My ability to do that was now in jeopardy. I knew that for them, hearing the words was going to be painful and I could not protect them from that. I will never forget the look in their eyes as I had to tell them the news. Even with the fact that the outlook was promising, I could still see their pain and sense the hurt. It is awful to see your kids hurt and cry - and even worse when you are the cause.

For his part, the little one is the luckiest of all. He has no idea what is going on and would not understand it even if we did tell him. At some point, he will know that dad is sick, but he will not understand until he is older. At that point, it will either be moot because I am still around...or it will be something else that I’m doing my best to not think about at this time.

In 72 hours, they are going to fillet me like a fish. At that point, anything can happen. Yesterday, I struggled to keep the panic attacks at bay. I am scared. I know the surgery is necessary and I want it to happen, but I don’t because I’m scared.

Today, the anxiety has been better, except I cannot stop thinking about the Cat’s and the Cradle and the Circle Game. I cannot stop thinking about the “what ifs” and how unfair it is that there’s a chance that I miss so much of the life cycle events in my sons’ lives...and miss so much time with my amazing wife. We still have so much to do, so much life to live, so much love to give. And so I fight...even with the fear and the misty eyes.

Please get your screenings.
Please say your prayers.

I hope that I’ll be here for so much more of my sons’ lives “before the last revolving year is through.”

#GratefulFighters

Well...How did we get here?

 

10.13.21

Well...how did we get here?

Yes, I do like the Talking Heads, and yes, I heard that song yesterday, and yes, it led me to start thinking back over the past 2+ weeks. How did we get here? Well, it’s been nothing short of a whirlwind.

As I wrote earlier, I don’t remember much, if anything, about the specific moment when the doc came in on 9/27 and told me that I had cancer - a 6.5cm lump of fun in my colon. Between the anesthesia and just hearing the word “cancer,” that moment in time is just a blur. But Brandi was in immediate warrior mode - figuring out next steps and intent on getting things in order.

At this point, I’m hearing from some of you, from some of my friends, that you are out there scheduling your colonoscopies - and the wait time is about 3 months. It’s hard to believe that we need a 3 month wait to perform life saving screenings, but this is the reality today. And by the way, for every one of you who have reached out and let me know that you have scheduled your screening or that you have convinced your husband/wife/partner to get theirs, I am grateful. This is one of my missions in spinning this disease into a positive, and while I’m not keeping a tally sheet, my heart grows that much more with each new appointment! Please keep spreading the word and making those appointments!!

Anyhow, the amazing thing about cancer is that while almost everything else in the medical field is slow and delayed, the doctor put through my needs ‘stat’ and within the time it took us to drive from my colonoscopy to work (20 minutes), we had all 3 of my next appointments on the calendar. Brandi set up my CT for 10/1, my oncologist for 10/4, and the surgeon CALLED ME and we set up 10/6 for that appointment. Whirlwind indeed.

During that first week, we told the bare minimum of people - basically my parents and our bosses. We did not want to do anything else until we knew more. That being said, we did not sleep all that well that week. My primary concern, quite honestly, was telling the kids. That alone kept me up at nights. We do everything we can, as parents, to protect and nourish our kids. Telling them that I was sick with cancer was a huge nightmare because I could not protect them from that pain.

With colon cancer, the biggest issue is whether it is isolated or spread. Without gory details, Stage 1 is where the doctor can just scrape away polyps during a regular colonoscopy. Anything more than that cannot really be diagnosed during the colonoscopy. So for most of the week, we had no idea how serious things were. Stage 2 would mean that the cancer is isolated without spread. Stage 3 basically means there is curable spread. Stage 4 is an incurable spread.

At the Friday CT scan, I asked a lot of questions. I tried to butter up the technician in order to get as much information as possible. I asked her if she saw my pictures? I told her that she was probably so experienced and good at her job that she could probably see if I had a lot of reason to be worried. Alas, like all good techs, she said she does not read or interpret the pics. But she did say that she had a friend on that end and she would ask the friend to speed up the readings. As it was a Friday, I figured that we would be waiting until the oncologist on Monday, at least. To our relief though, on Saturday, I received a message that my results were uploaded to my digital account.

Now, I am a reading teacher, but I’m not a doctor, so we read the results with some caution, but to our untrained eyes, the results seemed to indicate that there was no spread to major organs - no longs, no liver, no nothing! There did seem to be some swelling in the surrounding lymph nodes. We figured all of that meant that I was not in Stage 4 and provided some relief until the oncologist confirmed our thinking on Monday. At that appointment, we were told that I am somewhere within the Stage 2 to 3 range and that we won’t know for sure until testing is done post-surgery. The oncologist said that either way, the prognosis was good for Stage 3 and even better for Stage 2. In fact, Stage 2 (no spread) just means regular monitoring and colonoscopies for 5 years. Many have commented on my positivity - well, this is one reason for that. If the doctor is confident, then I believe in the science and I can draw from that confidence.

The next step was to meet with the surgeon. To be honest, the first doc at the colonoscopy told me that I’d be out for 1-2 weeks post surgery. Apparently though, that is for smaller surgeries with scopes. (skip the rest of this paragraph if you’re squeamish). Apparently, my little guy requires both scopes and an incision in my belly about the size of the surgeon’s hand so he can get up in there. Essentially, they are going to take out about 1 foot of my colon and likely around 25 lymph nodes in the surrounding tissue. Then the surgeon takes the two ends of my colon and staples them back together.

All said and done, this will require me to be in the hospital for 3-5 days and then prevent me from working for 4-6 weeks while I recover at home. That is significantly more than 1-2 weeks as I originally thought. Aside from telling the kids about the cancer, this is the scariest part of this whole thing for me. For one, I do not love hospitals - they have given me anxiety ever since I saw my Grandpa Oscar after he passed at Glenbrook. It was not easy for me to be in hospitals, even when our sons were born. The idea of surgery gives me so much anxiety that I have dealt with years of knee pain simply because I did not want to go to a doc and have them tell me I need knee surgery. But now I have no choice, and to be honest, I am scared.

So, later in the day on 10/6, I got in touch with the surgery scheduler and took the first date available to get this shit outta me - 10/22. It is SO SOON and that is truly amazing considering what many of you are finding out - that scheduling anything hospital related is taking about 3 months. My cancer will be removed in less than a month after my diagnosis.

I’m grateful that early screening caught this before stage 4.
I’m grateful they were able to get me in so quickly.
I’m grateful that so many are inspired to schedule their own screenings.
And I’m grateful to you, my readers and friends.

So here’s to you (I’m raising my Ensure Surgery immunonutrion shake in toast).

Keep scheduling those screenings!!!

Thank you and I love you!

#GratefulFighters

 10.12.21

#GratefulFighters

At some point during the evening after my diagnosis on September 27th, it occured to me that there was no way I was going to be able to ‘privately’ go through this battle. Like I said in my last post, I don’t love to be the center of attention, but I soon realized that even IF I was able to go at this alone, that would not be fair to my family - especially Brandi. Brandi has been unbelievably strong the past weeks, but I know she’s going to need support. The kids, too.

And once the decision was made that I was going to have to tell people beyond my immediate family, started thinking about how I was going to leverage the need to tell people into making a difference. By the time I awoke on Tuesday morning, I was certain of 2 things: 

1) I was going to tell people. 

2) I was going to be a warrior against cancer - for me and for others.

I’m not sure at what point in the night that I hit the stage of acceptance, but I did. Looking back, I feel like it happened so quickly, but I think I was able to come to this conclusion because I know quite a few impressive people who turned their own battles into powerful voices for cancer fundraising and advocacy, and I also know quite a few people who I admire greatly for their spirit of giving. The kindness and ingenuity of those I know is inspiring...and I am feeding off of that!

One person on my mind the night of my diagnosis was my friend, Jenna. (I did not ask Jenna for permission here, so I hope I don’t embarrass her.) I have always admired Jenna’s strength and the way she channeled her battle into Twist Out Cancer. (Check it out! It’s incredible and inspiring.) I am not going to tell Jenna’s story, but I will say that she is an inspiration for the way she fought her disease, for the courage she showed during the battle, and for how she turned something negative and scary into a massive positive. On top of all of that, she is one amazing person who I’m proud to call a friend. So, yes, I spent some on the night of the 27th thinking, “What would Jenna do?”
*Full Disclosure: I did speak to Jenna after I wrote this and I was able to share how important she was/is to my mindset (and life)...

 

My friend Steve was also on my mind because Steve is a beautiful, generous light in our world. Steve is the owner and operator of Grateful Sweats. Over the time I have known him, Steve has been so generous with his merch. Currently, he runs 2 weekly give-aways on Facebook (Grateful Sweats Giveaways group on FB - Join it!). In addition, Steve has raised money for women's shelters and other causes with his merch...because he cares. I consider Grateful Sweats to be "Heady Clothes with a Purpose". And Steve's generosity and love are contagious. (Steve is also unaware I'm writing this or that he was on my mind, so I hope this is okay, Dubes!)

The next day, I told Brandi that I’d decided to be a warrior and that I wanted to make a difference. I told her that I wanted to use my love of music as a vehicle for inspiring others to get their screenings and to raise money for cancer. After thinking about it for a while, Brandi came up with the idea that we should call it Grateful Warriors. She tells me she loves the idea (and I’ll take her word for it.) I did a google search for the Grateful Warriors name and there is actually a woman who has used that name for her journey - so for now, I’m going to call mine #GratefulFighters. So using the lyrics that have defined over half of my life and influenced me so brightly, I plan on designing some shirts and raising funds with Grateful Dead inspiration. Helping in this adventure will be my dearest friend, Laina. I will channel a lot of my post-surgery healing time into the design process with Brandi and Laina’s support and input. (Logo and Fundraising Merch to come).

But more than purchasing a shirt at some point or joining in on whatever other ways we may devise to raise money and spread awareness, I am asking all of you to join me in #GratefulFighters with the mission to GET YOUR SCREENINGS and spread the word to others about the importance of cancer screenings. I was so humbled yesterday by the massive amount of posts and love I received after I posted the first blog entry about my journey. I was not even thinking that that would happen. My writing is personally therapeutic and spreading the message is important to me, but you all floored me. I really felt the love and prayers, and I appreciate every single one of them. Truly. I cannot thank you all enough. I know you are with me, and the messages, hearts, and caring emojis are everything.

 

Most importantly and now that you’re here, if you choose to be a part of our #GratefulFighters 

army - Please start spreading the word. Colon cancer screenings start at AGE 45 now.

Colonoscopies, Mammograms...Please don’t wait. I had no symptoms, but here we are and I promise: Early detection saves lives! So spread the word.

Thank you all for everything yesterday - all of the love and prayers and messages.  

I am a lucky guy. My cup runneth over...

I Have Cancer

10.11.21

I have cancer.

Many of you already know it, but I apologize if this is a surprise to some of you. It’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks.

 

I have cancer.

 

The more I say it, the easier it is to accept the fight that is in front of me. I did not think it would be that

way; I do not like to be the center of attention and I figured I would never share such a journey publicly.

But here we are, and the battle is on, and the more I say it, the more I ready myself to fight.

 

The 2 weeks have been quite a ride. So much has happened, so many emotions, so many dreams an

nightmares. I want to write them all down. Some I will share, and others, I may not. For a while, I’ll be

writing “catch up” as I try to capture the past couple of weeks. Eventually, though, I will be documenting

this fight - and victory. But I want to capture them so that I remember - capture them so that my

beautiful wife and amazing sons will someday have a piece of me and my mind that they can keep

forever. 

But to be clear, that someday is not now. I refuse to give in. Those that know me best, know that I am

a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, so this attitude will be of no surprise.

The real surprise was the diagnosis. I am not sure we are ever prepared to hear such news, and

Monday September 27th was pretty surreal for me. I mean, I never thought I would live forever. In fact,

there have been times in my life (college) where I lived life in the fast lane, so much so that I think at

the onset of my panic/anxiety attacks in the mid-90s, I thought I was just having a midlife crisis. I was

25ish, and there was a part of me that thought I would not live to be 50, hence the midlife concept. But

I thought my enemy was going to be heart related - not cancer.

And so maybe the diagnosis should not have been a shocker - but it was. Today, looking back on that

day, it feels like a dream. I was coming out of the anesthesia trance, and I know the doctor sat down

and said the words, but I cannot picture the scene for the life of me. I know I was stunned, I know I felt

like my brain and body turned numb, I know I listened to the doc’s explanation and maybe even asked

questions...but it’s all a blur.

At that moment, my wife entered warrior mode. She has been an incredible rock of stability over the

past 2 weeks - even though I know she must be scared like me. Same can be said for my parents. I

told them right away because I felt like they deserved to know. They have been great as well, although

I am sure they are scared - even as my father fights his own battle with Lymphoma.
 

So yes, it is scary. I can be ready for battle, I can even say the words, “I have cancer” and accept the

challenge with positivity - but it is scary. But, I will not let that part define me.

I have cancer.

I choose to be a warrior.

*Quick edit: Since I first drafted this, so many people have reached out, have been so kind. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. More on that later...