Learning to Breath

Learning to Breath - March 21, 2023

      Growing up at summer camps in the Midwest, it was necessary to have a bank of rainy day activities that could be implemented at a moments notice in a variety of settings and spaces. I suppose this could be true for camps all over the world, but I grew up here in the heartland and so I'm sticking with what I know. One such rainy day game is a "Sing Down." 

    For those unfamiliar, a Sing Down basically asks groups to formulate a list of songs with a specific word or concept in the lyrics. After a given time period to compile a list, groups go around and sing the appropriate tag-line from one song on their list. This continues, round-robin style. There are no repeats - if you repeat, you're out. If you run out of tunes, you're out. Last group standing with ideas is the winner of the round. I use this 'game' in my classroom sometimes when asking kids to brainstorm or generate ideas of one kind or another - it's a very versatile concept.

    In a surreal way, the last 2 weeks have had a sing-down quality for me as I have constantly been thinking of and singing songs in my head about breathing.  Yes, I know most of you have just paused, even for a second, to start thinking of songs with "Breath" or "Breathing" in them.

    Over the past 2 weeks, Brandi has done an amazing job of trying to keep people in the loop regarding my heart surgery and post-surgical recovery. I appreciate her ability to bring information and humor together during what must've been a pretty grueling few days for many of my family and friends with little 'real' information. It took me almost all week to finally start reading through the Caring Bridge posts, and it's all pretty strange to try and imagine things from the "other side."

   On my end, on Friday March 10th, I made a FB "see you on the other side" post, and that's about all you've heard from me for 2 weeks. They told Brandi it was time to go, we said goodbye, and they must have literally knocked me out as I was watching her walk away. It's all I remembered...until I woke up on March 11th, arms restrained, with a breathing tube stuffed down my trachea. I was barely breathing, and I could barely find any air (Duncan Sheik - "Barely Breathing").

    Now, if you had spoken to me before the surgery, I felt as if I had a very clear picture of the timeline. We re-verified that timeline with the nurses in pre-op. It was basically: Pre-op until 9:15;  procedural prep until about 11:15; procedure until about 1:30; Rest/Recovery/Breathing tube removal until about 3:30...and watching Friday Night March 10th B1G Tourney basketball by 5:30pm.

    My eyes opened though, it was light out, I saw March 11th on the dry erase board, I was barely breathing, and I knew something had gone wrong. I have to tell you that those few hours on March 11th were probably up there with the worst of my life. It was unexpected, I couldn't talk, I had no idea what was happening - and literally every breath I took, every move I made, was a struggle (The Police - "Every Breath You Take"). I won't go into a lot of details because I don't think I can adequately describe the hell I felt. For one, the hospital had asked me to skip my anti-anxiety meds for the day of surgery and here I was a day and a half later still without my meds, enjoying a very real panic attack inducing moment. The nurse kept telling me that they were working on getting the tube out soon, but those of you that have had to stay in a hospital know that "soon" and hospital do not go together. I recall Laina coming in the room at some point while I frantically 'shooed' her away - not wanting her to see me in such an awful state (and I still feel badly about that). And then I recall them running one test where they told me I was supposed to be able to breath, but I was getting no air, literally. Not quite Guantanamo Bay level torture, but it was damn awful and by the time they finally got that tube out, I couldn't have been more grateful as I began learning to breath again (David Broza - Matchil Linshom/"Starting to Breath").

    I'm still not exactly clear why things with the operation didn't go as planned. I know what Brandi has told me (and most of you know those things as well through the Caring Bridge) - a combination of previous lung issues added complications. But if I am being brutally honest, I do not know that I have fully recovered from that moment of waking and learning to breath which is why the Breath/Breathing songs have constantly been swirling in my head the past 2 weeks. It clouds things.

    So many of you have been so kind - and continually so - during these medical ordeals I have dealt with the past few years. You call, you text, you want to visit, you want to take care of me...and I feel bad because I'm just not there yet. Trust me, the meals and support you have given Brandi and the boys is essential and I am grateful for that. It helps...but I know that for many of you, you feel like you want to help me too, and I'm just not sure that's possible right now. 

    I have started and stopped writing this blog dozens of times the past 2 weeks because I am just not certain how to convey the above and what I'm feeling. And trust me, there are a million songs about breathing that I could continue to post, but you don't want that either. So for brevity's sake, here are some truths about how I'm feeling:

• I'm grateful to be alive, and I'm doing my best to continue to stay plugged in to the boys lives and activities - like being able to get out to see Alon in Lion King and attend his parent-teacher conferences. I will do my best to get to the sidelines for Ami's games and Nadav's games too.
• My biggest physical struggle right now is lung capacity and breathing. Some of that is natural post-cardiac surgery and some of it is amplified by my previous lung issues. What that means is that it can be hard to sleep and when the pain meds wear off, it is painful to breath deeply.
• Mentally, I am still in some kind of fog. I have not had a lot of conversations with others, but I find my self appalled at some of the things that come out of my mouth these days - misuse of words I normally use, and an inability to fully express myself. 
• My hope is that when I am fully weaned off the Oxy (which I never wanted to take in the first place and of which I'm not taking large amounts) and when I am able to sleep better, the fog will lift more. But for now, sleeping is a major issue.
• While I do have some back/chest pain from the surgery, by and large, my body is doing okay with incision, healing, and bone-rebuilding process.
• The docs and nurses and staff at NW treated me so well. I am grateful to them.
  
• Even if I haven't responded to your calls, messages, etc., I am grateful for all of you that have sent so much strength the past 2 weeks. It is my power well.
• My close family and friends have been so incredible in supporting Brandi and the boys. Those that know me, know that that IS the most important thing.
• Brandi is just beyond words. I have no idea where I'd be without her on a daily basis, even more magnified and true the past 2 years and even more the past 2 weeks. She has been so strong, so confident, so willing to take care of me when I most need and she's exhausted...I hope she won't resent me one day for these hardships :(
• Finally, I am so excited that she gets to go to Iceland next week with her mom and Heath to 'get away' and to hopefully relax and blow off steam. My goal has been to be well enough so she can go...and I think I'm there. (But if I need, trust me, I will reach out.)

    To sum up, I am okay. But I'm not 100% okay - physically or mentally - and I'm kind of in an introverted phase right now. That doesn't mean you can't call or message or whatever. But it does mean that I may or may not answer depending on how I'm feeling in the exact moment. The support still matters though and I appreciate it all.

In another time and space, I'd probably find some way to continue this "Breathing" sing down for kicks and giggles, but I'm really exhausted (oh year, another thing that happens a lot these days), and I think I'm just going to nap.

One day at a time.
Love you all.

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

 

 

 

 

This is a (really long) post for all the good people...

As kids, many of us think we are invincible - immortal, even. At some point though, we realize that our time on Earth is finite. Obviously, we would all love to go with Han Solo (& James Bond) to Petra in order to choose wisely a chalice, The Holy Grail,  to drink from the fountain of youth...but unfortunately, that is just a figment of Steven Spielberg's imagination.

Lost yet? Well, welcome to my world because these are the things that run through my mind these days - mostly in the middle of the night - when I wake up and cannot fall back asleep. And yes, for some reason, Indiana Jones comes to mind a lot as I take a leap of faith in the medical world - likely because one Jones movie or another is always on TV. I mean, song lyrics are up there too in terms of what runs through my head in those dark moments, but we'll play a bit with those later...

 

 

Of the many thoughts swimming in my head the past couple of months since my heart diagnosis is mortality. I mean, let's face it, while my surgeon is good - and trust me, I asked his success rate for this specific procedure, there's still a non-zero chance that things go south on Thursday. And while I try not to dwell on the negative, it can be hard to get the "what ifs" out of my head as I lay awake in bed unable to sleep.

Inevitably, the what ifs focus on three things. First of all and on the positive side, I have a list in my head of all of the things I have wanted to accomplish in my life and that list includes goals that extend beyond Thursday. To be sure, I have accomplished and experienced so much professionally and personally. I am a published educator who is hopefully impacting students here at my school, around the country, and potentially around the world as we were just told that our Science Literacy book was recommended for our publisher's world-wide online professional development platform. It is satisfying to know I am respected and making an impact! And personally, I have an amazing wife and three great kids. I joke about them a lot, but they are my greatest accomplishment and they bring so much pure joy (and....excitement) to my life. There was a time where I wasn't sure I would get married or find someone courageous enough to tolerate me for a lifetime (Brandi would tell you my mom is still paying)...and here I am with an amazing family. I'm proud of my boys for what they have and will accomplish themselves. I am determined to see that list through - graduations are first up!

The second thing that creeps into my mind is my funeral. In truth, I don't dwell on this one too much, but there are a few things I know. I want people to celebrate because it happened, and I want everyone to listen to Jerry Garcia Band's full 12-minute version of Beasley Smith's 1949 hit "That Lucky Old Sun" from Milwaukee, Wisconsin November 23rd, 1991. The raw emotion of Jerry's soulful voice and Melvin Seal's organ hits me in the feels every time. In fact, it was the first song that popped up on my playlist this morning in the car. People would really understand me by listening to the emotions in that song.

Lastly, and most significantly, the thing that keeps me up and has vexed me the past few months is the simple question: If you knew you were going to die in advance, would all of the people in your life know how you feel about them? Would you tell them and how? I have gone back and forth on this in my mind over and over again since December 23rd, 2022 when the doc confirmed that I would have to have this open heart procedure. I mean, it's impossible, right? How could I possibly find a way and the time to let everyone know how I feel about them? At one point, I considered writing everyone down that has impacted my life, but realized I would somehow forget to list someone and the good intentions would be lost. The whole thing and the thought process has been emotionally overwhelming. I have shed many tears about this over the past few weeks because it is so important to me that you know, that you ALL know.

And yet, part of me does find comfort in knowing that I *think* and hope most of you - especially those of you who have actually read this far and deserve some kind of award -  know how much I love and appreciate you. Every one who is reading this has impacted my life in one way or another - and it is so important to me that you know that.

So in the end, to borrow the lyrics of Ken Hicks (1978):

This is a post for all the good people
All the good people who touched up my life.
This is a song for all the good people
People I'm thankin' my stars for tonight.

• My friends from OSRUI & Ramah - some even like me after 40+ years!
• My friends from Youth Group and CFTY and BJBE and Beth Shalom and all of the spiritual corners of my life.
• My Shorashim US and Israel family who have all impacted my life in such amazing ways.
• My friends from school and the old neighborhood - Kildeer, Twin Groves, and SHS - especially those who I have reconnected with and started hanging with regularly the past few months.
• My Illini friends who built a lifetime of music, memories, sports, and fun for me.
• My social media circle - the Facebookers and Instragrammers and Tweeters, yes it's a thing! Those who support me and allow me to joke and vent and learn and keep in touch. 
• All of the coaches that have impacted my boys as mentors and role models - from Park District Fields to FC Mirage to Field Middle School
• Our Schechter teachers and community and our Field teachers and community who have nurtured and continue to inspire the boys emotionally and educationally and Judaically.
  

This is a verse for all the good people
Whose songs and whose voices have blended with mine
On the back steps and driveways, for hugs and for love,
It's some kind of sharing and some kind of fine.

• My colleagues, past and present, who have pushed me to be the best educator I could be, and who amaze and inspire me to this day.
• My Lit Coach partners and friends who keep me sane on the daily.
• My Northbrook friends. neighbors, parents of the boys' friends, and all of the travel soccer parents who have kept me company on the sidelines and school events, and who have lifted us up over the past few tough years.
• Friends of my parents and friends of the family that have meant so much throughout my life.
  
• Brandi's friends who have welcomed me in from the get-go and become a branch on my tree.
• My music family - a fabulous group held together, not by blood, but by singing and dancing and loving - can't wait to take that ride again with you all!
• My boys (even the Badgers) and my poker group and Fantasy Football groups - all of the laughs & good times we've shared.

This is a song for all the good people
Who shared up my time, some good and some bad
We drank in the kitchen and shared our ambition
Each knowing the other was a great friend to have 

• My extended family by blood and by marriage who love and care for us unconditionally and to whom  I'm forever indebted.
• My mother, father, brother, and sister - because of you, I am the man I am today and you've put up with me for the better parts of your lives.
• My incredible wife - what a life we've built and what strength she has! I won the lottery there and no words can describe how much I love her!
• And my amazing boys who I also love dearly and take such pride in their accomplishments.
  

This is a song for all the good people
All the good people who touched up my life.
Some helped in small ways, and make a difference most days
And most always told me you're doin' all right. 

 

Amazing how many people have impacted my life in different ways and from so many places, and how many of you belong in more than one of the groups above.  And again, if you have read this far or even skimmed, I just need each and every one of you to know how much you mean to my life and how much I love and cherish you. No matter what happens on 3.9.23, and the likelihood is that it will all be fine, please know that I'm talking to you and I'm grateful for you.

Until our paths cross again...

You are the people I'm thankin' my stars for tonight.
 

Love,
dan

Here We Go Again...

💔 Things you don't want to hear from your doctor:

"You know that journalist (Grant Wahl) that died suddenly at the World Cup of the aortic aneurysm ...yea, you have that." 💔

 

Yes. Those were the words the cardiologist said to me this afternoon. As an avid soccer fan, I knew exactly who Grant Wahl was and what happened, but the doc couldn't have known that. If you read the article linked above, you will learn a few facts about aortic aneurysms and apparently, the ticking time bomb that has likely been growing in my body for several years. Scary thought.

For those who are unaware, of recent health happenings in my world, let me summarize:

1. My numbers related to colon cancer are still good. My oncologist is confident I am cancer free although I have some lung issues we continue to monitor. 

2. When I had my original post-chemo scans in May, they revealed lung scar tissue from Covid I'd had in January 2022.

3. In August, to check on my Covid lungs and because I was still short of breath at times, I had some further testing done.

4. My lungs are recovering; however, by accident, a heart abnormality was found by the tech - unrelated to my cancer.

5. In November, I had some more detailed imaging done on my heart and valves which confirmed an aortic aneurysm.

6. Today, I consulted with my cardiologist and cardiac surgeon who deemed me eligible for open heart surgery to repair the issue.

Long story short, the surgery has a very low risk and is quite common. My heart, otherwise, is in very good shape which helps the success rate. I could opt out of the surgery and monitor the issue every 6 months since I have just barely crossed the size threshold for recommending surgery. However, my risk factors would increase exponentially every year and within 5 years the doctor said there would be a 50/50 chance of having a catastrophic event - like Grant Wahl.

Most of the time we say FUCK CANCER; however, in this case by lucky accident, it may have saved my life or at least extended my chances.

BUT this puts me in another uncomfortable situation, to be honest. My whole life, I have tried to take care of others. I try to be the problem-solver, the protector, the person who would sacrifice for others because seeing others happy made me happy. As many of you know, on the other hand, I am not comfortable being on the other end of that equation - I struggle to accept help because I see myself as the helper.
 

It was a given that I was going to have to lean on Brandi and the boys last fall, but as most of you know, I also made the conscious choice to battle publicly and as part of that, I knew I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone and accept all of the love, prayers, meals, help, and strength from family and friends. It was not easy at times. That being said, I am so grateful to this day for all that people gave to me - and to my family. Because of those prayers and strength and love, I am here today...you cannot convince me otherwise.

I do not like to be a burden. (I know, I should not see it that way). And one of my first thoughts was the guilt, once again, of being a burden to Brandi and the boys. They deserve so much more than having to worry and take care of me. And I do not want to be a burden to family and friends. Nothing anyone is doing is making me feel that way. It's just how I'm wired. My guess is that a lot of folks in my shoes feel the same way - when we are sick, it is such a crappy feeling to even think we are a burden to those we love.

Thankfully, it seems that this surgery is not terrible (as far as open heart surgery goes). There's about a 4-day hospital stay and then I am up and walking and rebuilding strength with a much healthier heart. Unlike cancer, which is a long-term slog, this one seems like a sprint and the plan is to be up and 'running' again in time to catch some of the last Dead and Company tour this summer.

I just want you all to know, my dear reading friends and family, that I love you. I love your energy. I love how you've colored my life so brightly. I love the amazing times we have shared and I cherish the tough times we have been through. I am so lucky to have such incredible people standing by my side in this life - those I have only known a short time and those who I have known my whole life. My music family, my OSRUI and Ramah families, my Shorashim family, my Illini family, my work family, my CBS Rabbi and friends, my neighborhood friends...I love and appreciate you all immensely. 

 

And I am so blessed to have wonderful parents, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews - blood related and related by choice. Most importantly, my wife and 3 sons make me the luckiest man on Earth. Period.

For them and for the all of you, I fight on.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza...and Happy 2023 to you all!

Canciversary

I should be grading, but I have found that hard to do lately. At the tail end of what has been a really long year, this past month has been pretty brutal. As if my "Canciversary" hasn't been enough, the month has also included:

1. Brandi's continuing recovery from foot surgery.

2. My father's fall, broken bones, and continuing rehab (including COVID).
3. Me taking on a new class to help out a colleague who is sick - new books, new curriculum, etc.

4. Frustrations at work both personally and with the pedagogical direction of SHS.

But that is just the context to the past month, which for me, has really focused on my Canciversary. Most people may not realize that when you get cancer, or I suppose any other serious illness, it stays with you. Every. Day. Even if it's not in the forefront of the mind, it's lurking, and it likes to come out once in awhile for a visit. For me, that visit has been like a guest who over-stays their welcome, and it's going on month #2.

My Canciversary is actually September 27th. Since that day, over a month ago, I have daily battles to keep the "What ifs" at bay. The "What ifs" began with thinking about: What happens if my 1-year colonoscopy follow up finds more cancer? Those "What ifs" morph into sub-questions regarding potential treatment - What if I have to do more chemo? What if I have to do radiation? What if I have to do Car-T immunotherapy like my father did? What if I have to tell the kids, again? What if, what if, what if... It's nightmare and depression inducing, and pretty illogical given how low my CEA (cancer indicator in blood test) has been post-chemo and at the 3 month point...which makes it even more depressing to be unable to rely on logic. And all the while, I have tried to smile - for the kids and for everyone else because why should anyone else have to worry...illogically?

As most of you know, thankfully, my colonoscopy results from yesterday were as good as we could hope. I did get a bit nervous when undressing for the procedure, my #GratefulFighters bracelet snapped. For those that may not know, I have worn that bracelet since Nadav started fundraising with them for his Bar Mitzvah early this Spring - easily 6+ months. I worried it was a bad omen, but Brandi stepped in to say that it was a positive sign instead - a sign that I had won my fight. And so, because my wife said, I changed my negative thoughts to positive ones; however, I do not consider my fight over. While I may be in remission (pending CT results), I am still a Fighter - for myself and for others. Remember - If you're reading this and you have not gotten your yearly check up and you have not had your required screenings, please do it now. That is a battle I will fight for the rest of my life!
 

Anyhow, while there were 4 polyps to remove during my colonoscopy, the doctor said that he was not worried. If he didn't know my history, he wouldn't think twice. Additionally, he posits that those polyps were from before and that my surgeon simply ignored the tiny polyps to make sure they removed all of the cancer. But now those polyps are gone, off to the lab just to double-check the pathology, and I do not need another colonoscopy for a year. Phew. It was definitely a relief.

But that was only 1 test of 4 that have induced the anxiety over the past month plus. Next up was my 6 month consult with my oncologist. Every 3 months, we meet and he does blood work - mostly to keep an eye on my CEA. Some of you may recall that the normal range for CEA is 0-2.5 and a year ago, mine was 12.4. Post-chemo, that number had dropped to 1.4. 3-months ago, that number was 0.9, and yesterday, despite my feeling that it would go up given that I haven't been able to exercise (more on that later), it dropped even lower to 0.7! And so, I woke up this morning feeling pretty positive!

But I still have 2 more hurdles to jump in the next couple of weeks. At 6 months, my oncologist also orders a chest CT to make sure there is no visual evidence of cancer. Again, even though logic says that the results will be positive, the anxiety is still lurking below the surface. And finally, in mid-November, I will be having a CAT scan on my heart. I haven't spoken much about this publicly, but due to my post-Covid breathing issues, I had some heart testing done. Thankfully, my heart is functioning well; however, by accident, they spotted something that they want to look at further. I won't speculate and my oncologist reassures me that there's not much to worry about...but still, given my father's heart problems post-chemo and this finding, I'm still uneasy. My hope is that by Thanksgiving, the remaining 2 tests will come through with positive news and we can truly put to rest this anxiety inducing month + !!

(If only it was as easy to make work issues go away!!)

If you have made it this far, I guess that aside from wanting to fill everyone in and aside from me wanting to document this for my own reflection, I wanted to just share a bit of what many cancer survivors (and other long-term illness sufferers) go through in the days, months, and years past being "cleared" (and what others may or may not wish to share publicly for various reasons). While we want to celebrate life - and I'm doing my best to do just that, there is always the "What ifs" monster lurking below the surface.

With a 4/4 November, hopefully, I'll be able to fend off the monster for at least another year until my next Canciversary.

Until next time,

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

America - We Have a Problem

 5.24.22

I'm sick to my stomach.

I'm sick to my stomach because as of this moment, we are mourning another school shooting. At least 18 kids and 1 teacher are dead. 23 years after Columbine, 15 years after Va Tech, almost 10 years after Sandy Hook, 4+ years after Parkland, and several other school shootings, we now have the 4th deadliest school shooting in American history at Robb Elementary School. 

I am sick to my stomach because as a teacher, for 23 years I am constantly looking at exits and places to duck for cover when I walk through the halls; and I know in my heart that with a gunman at the door of my classroom, I'd take a bullet for my students - it's in my DNA.

I'm sick to my stomach because we seem unable to solve this horrid problem.

I'm sick to my stomach because instead of engaging in dialogue, this issue has turned into political football with two sides - the GOP and Dems - lobbing accusations at each other. Heels dug in, unable and unwilling to find potential solutions to the gun problem in America.

I am sick to my stomach because in a few days, this tragedy will be swept under the rug and forgotten.  The media fanfare will subside. Meanwhile, kids will continue dying in the streets of America's cities every day without much publicity because we have a gun problem in this country - and it isn't just school shootings.

I am sick to my stomach because blacks are killing blacks in the streets of America and racists are killing blacks and brown people in super markets and churches.

I am sick to my stomach because this is not only a gun problem. This is a mental health problem. This is an economic problem. This is a nuclear family problem. And this will require action on several fronts by people with the courage to make changes in policy and in our communities.

I am sick to my stomach because we have a problem and instead of working together to solve it - we are more divided than ever, and as long as we remain polarized, we will be paralyzed to stop the next shooting and the next and the next.

I am sick to my stomach because our inaction is a sin and it is on our shoulders. History will judge us harshly.

I pray for the day when we can find a way to work together to end this violence in our schools, on our streets, in our places of worship, in our work spaces, and in other public venues.

And of course, tonight I pray for the parents and families of the Robb Elementary School community. I cannot imagine their pain tonight. My heart breaks for them all.

I am sick to my stomach.  G-d help us.

The Yin and Yang of it

5.4.22

 

The Yin and Yang of It 

 

Part 1: The Yang (this is long - consider yourself warned)

I am entering today with mixed emotions. The Yang of it is that today is my 12th and (hopefully) final chemotherapy treatment. The Yin of it is that it is Yom HaZikaron - Israel's Memorial Day for Soldiers and Terror Victims. So I suppose I will save my fist pumping celebration until later tonight when Yom HaZikaron turns to Yom Ha'Atzmaut - Israel's Independence Day.

In a way, the symbolism of treatment 12 falling at this time is not lost on me. In Israel, there is deep mourning for 24 hours to remember those that sacrificed so Jews could be a free people in our ancestral homeland - and then boom, just like that, we compartmentalize and celebrate the realization of what those who lost their lives fought for - our beautiful state, the realization of thousands of years of exile.

I, too, am transitioning today. While I'm thinking and remembering those who have fallen (more on that in the Yin post as you might have guessed), I am poisoning my body with chemicals for the last (hopefully) time. After this, I hit the road to recovery - celebrating hope and optimism - and I'm determined to be healthier and firmly defeat this damned beast. So far, my CEA numbers are a positive indicator that I am unofficially in remission. My doctor, this morning, was really pleased with my normal CEA number and anticipates that my CT scan Monday morning will verify that I am cancer free. Cautious Optimism is the rule here.

And I am only here because of you all. Seriously. The love and support and prayers and gifts and meals - all of it, has made the last 8 months fly by. When I was down, you lifted me up. When I needed energy, you were there. So this is my thank you post. Yes, during my last chemo, I am thinking of all of you and all you have done - and I"m so grateful. And I'm going to do something unwise here - I'm going to try to list thank yous and thank some people specifically for some of the help along the way...and I will likely miss people, which I hate (and I'll deserve your ridicule if I miss you). So just know that even if you're not mentioned here, I'm grateful to you as well. I realize this will be long and some of you may not want to read through it all (I won't be offended) - but I need, NEED, you all to know how unbelievably thankful I am for your generosity.

• Thank you for all of the notes, prayers, texts, DMs, check-ins, and more. It has been humbling to know that so many of you are thinking of me when things are so tough for all of us in this world today. That you dedicated time in your busy lives to think of me meant so much and helped immensely.
• Thank you to everyone that has scheduled screenings, had their colonoscopies, and spread the word to others. Knowing that our #GetScreened message was out there and making a difference helped give me strength to continue my own battle. Because if people were out there making an effort to drink that stuff (or take the pills) and go through that 'cleansing', I could also fight my battle with strength and determination.
• Thank you to my colleagues - particularly Nicole L, Anastasiya, Maureen, Nicole D. My friends know how important my work and students are to me. My friends who are teachers know that making sub plans is a chore. These amazing ladies made sure I never had to think twice about missing work in order to take care of myself. 'Such a gift.
• Thank you to Palfy and Jeff for covering Brandi's classes when needed so she could focus on taking care of me.
  
• Thank you to Laurie P and Carrie F for organizing the meal trains and to everyone who so generously made sure that Brandi and the boys were well fed. It was an incredible load off our minds to be so well taken care of over the last few months. I want to name you all, but there are too many!
• Thank you to all of my colleagues who provided gift cards and gifts - especially my colleagues and friends in the SS (Sarah G, Naomi, Lindsay DePaul, Jenna Breur, Janessa, Lizzie, Melissa Fainman, Chris Mural) and Science/Math departments (Amy, Paige, Amerigo, Stanny, Abbie, Jeff, Kellie, Deanna, Jin, Cahill, Molly G, Molly S) at work. Add in the Pintas, Johnstons, Rubensteins, and Zara D as well. You are all incredibly generous.
• Thank you to Christina and Jason Wood for regularly delivering cookies and homemade soups - best Minestrone I have ever had.
  
• Thank you for the books (Robert, Jules, Sprout), book marks (Cris H), Comfy Blankets (Maureen, Brian, Nicole D, Gluskins), Cookies (Christy K), sweet treats (Anna G), Grateful Dead Coloring Book (Rach & Albie), and tools to battle chemo (Leora K) that popped up regularly. 
• I need to thank friends from around the country and world that have been so generous with gift cards and constant check-ins: friends like Denise D who not only sent food but also regularly checked in on me to cheer me up.  Alon and Rikki from OSRUI, who sent gifts but also sent specific spa support for Brandi.
  
• Thank you to our amazing neighbors. The Dobkins who brought chicken wings & cookies, The Greenbergs who regularly left gifts and messages for me - including my cancer warrior socks, books, and ginger to fight the nausea. The Sorianos for regularly driving the boys to school and/or morning practice. All of it so very helpful!
• Thank you to Team Ramah for the swag, and thank you to Rabbi Melman for regularly texting and calling and supporting us throughout the past 8 months - even while on sabbatical. 
• I have to thank Schloop who has been one of my biggest cheerleaders throughout this ordeal. I wrote about him in the "One Day at a Time" post. That mantra, repeatedly given to me in support from Jeff,  has been a constant in my mindset and has given me strength to meet each day head on.
  
• Thank you to my boys - Aaron, Seth, Bret, Rich (Dave and Kai too) and Flagg/Shaggy- for getting me out of the house once in awhile, for the meals, cards, and for all the love.
• A brief thank you to all who generously donated to Nadav's Grateful Fighters bracelet project and raised more money than I would have ever imagined. Particularly Kurtz, the Malinas, Dubes, and Rabbi Melman who blew me away and were beyond generous. I also have to thank Mark Green here who I saw, via livestream, soliciting bracelet donations at Laina's bday bash. I've been incredibly touched by all of you.
• Thank you to Matt at Rock Free Love who has been instrumental in designing the Grateful Fighters logo and merch. Matt has spent a lot of his own time on this endeavor and the distraction and mission have been a big help with my mindset. We are still determined to get final licensing issues out of the way so people that want can purchase hoodies, Tshirts, hats and more to support our cancer charity work and outreach.
  
• Thank you to my friend Patrick, who I only met last September. In talking about our early deadhead days, I mentioned how I love Tiger's Eye stones and how I used to always wear one in the late 80s/early 90s. I did not remember this conversation until 2 weeks ago a beautiful Tiger's Eye necklace showed up at my house. I was blown away and I've worn it for strength and good vibes every day since.
• Thank you to my brother, sister, and brothers in law (and families) for the love and support. Knowing you're in my corner and that you are there for us in a moment's notice is huge!
  
• Thank you to my parents, Shari, and Bob. Your support has always been essential to our lives - but it has been even more so over the past 8 months. I could never list all you do for us, but suffice to say that we'd be lost without you!
• Thank you to my friend, Laina. You have walked every step on this journey with me and Brandi. Not only have you provided us with support and love, but you have been instrumental in making Grateful Fighters, just a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago, to become a reality. You have helped us make a difference with outreach about getting screened and with fundraising. You have constantly called, texted, researched, cheered me on, cheered me up, given love to Brandi and the boys, and so much more. Love you so much.
• And finally, I have to thank Brandi. I will not and cannot express everything Brandi has done for me and the boys over the last 8 months. From the moment the docs gave us the bad news, Brandi has been in warrior mode - regardless of her own needs, she has kept our family together, kept up with work, provided everything for the boys, planned an unexpected bar mitzvah party, planned a family Israel trip, and more. There simply are not enough words to describe how much I'm in awe of everything you've had to do to help us beat this thing. I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to re-pay you and definitely spend the rest of my life continuing to love you to the moon and back. We are here because of you and my landscape would be empty if you were gone.
  

If you have made it this far, I'm impressed.  If I missed anyone in particular or didn't mention you by name - definitely throw me under the bus because I'm a forgetful jerk...BUT, please know that even the shortest messages, the gifts, the silent prayers and all of the love have enabled us to get to this day.

Today, I reflect on the Yin - the battle, the fight, the struggle, and I am also thinking of Israel and those that sacrificed. Tonight and beyond, we focus on the Yang and we celebrate the journey back to full health.

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

 

 

11:11

 

4.20.22

 

11:11. For as long as I can remember, this time of day is ingrained in my mind as "Make a Wish" time - "It's 11:11, make a wish!!"

And here we are, treatment 11. I haven't blogged in 2 months. Not going to lie - the last 2 months have been a lot harder than the first 3 months. Since I had my allergic reaction to treatment 7, my treatment days have been longer (used to be 4 hours, now it's an all day affair) and the post-treatment symptoms have been worse and have been lasting longer. To be honest, yesterday was the first time through this whole ordeal where I actually felt as if I couldn't do this anymore. I'm worn down and the anticipation of the next week of feeling awful had me down.

That's where you guys come in. Unsolicited, this week I heard from 2 friends thanking #GratefulFighters for inspiring them to get their colonoscopies - and yesterday we found out that their results were good. While not totally clean, doctors were able to remove a precancerous polyp, meaning they caught the bad stuff early and there is no need for them to return for another colonoscopy for 7 years. Such a blessing! And like so many of you before that have reached out to let us know that you've scheduled your colonoscopies and let us know the good results, your actions and messages give me strength. So...the fight goes on today!

In other good news, Grateful Fighters is nearing $10,000 raised for cancer research at CDHS. While we still have not been approved to raise money through selling hats, sweatshirts, t-shirts yet, through Nadav's bar mitzvah project, Grateful Fighters rubber bracelets, and through Laina's birthday bash fundraising and Mark's selling bracelets at the bash, we are making a difference. We are so grateful to all of our friends, near and far, that have contributed to our efforts to raise money for research and to raise awareness for screenings. Your support is so meaningful to our family.

11. Eleven. We all have wishes, and today I am thinking about mine. If you had a genie and 1 wish to make, how would you use it? (No, I'm not soliciting wishes for my well-being - I know you all already pray for that regularly. These are non-Dan related wishes). So, what would you wish for? If you've read this far and you are willing...entertain me on my FB post with this blog or in the comments below with your wishes. It's going to be a long day, so share a wish, a hope, a dream - fill my post with optimism. The wishes can be fun or serious - but you only have one to use, so use it well!

11. Eleven. After today, only 1 treatment left which means just about 3 weeks of feeling meh until I can start the climb back to full health - working out, setting goals like getting back to a sub 30-minute 5K run, losing weight and more. But first, the fight continues today.

Please, #getscreened.  Early detection saves lives!
#GratefulFighters