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

Rocky Road...

 2.23.22

Well, today was treatment #7. Bright and early, I was feeling great and ready to roll. Met with my doc and he is really happy with progress so far...and so I began my 'pre' meds (anti nausea and steroids).

...and then about 45 minutes into my main meds, shit hit the fan. Hives, extreme nausea, stomach ache, sweats, asthmatic cough, and trouble breathing. Apparently, it is not rare at this point for the body to reject one of the 3 med chemo cocktail I receive. In this case, the drug that causes most of the issues is called: Oxaliplatin.

My nurse came in, stopped the drip and called for back up. What happened after that felt like a scene out of Pulp Fiction. Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but I had 4 or so people jump into action. I quickly received a benadryl shot and an Epi-pen jab into my thigh (thankfully it wasn't my chest like in Pulp Fiction).

Pulp Fiction Visual

Eventually, I was able to breathe, the rashes/hives went away, and they were able to finish the cocktail of the other 2 chemo drugs. I was too worn out to go to teach my afternoon classes, so I went straight home to nap. 

What does this mean? Well, Oxaliplatin is a key drug in my fight so the doctor wants me to get as much as possible. That means that Round 8 will essentially be a full day at the hospital where they gradually give me the Oxaliplatin in small doses over several hours - basically a tolerance trial. Hopefully, that will work and I'll still get all of the drugs to fight the battle. My chemo days will be longer, but I want all of the weapons! Not sure what happens if I do not tolerate it and I'm not going to think that way.

To be honest, I am somewhat depressed that I was unable to complete the full treatment. I did everything but only got 1/3 of the Oxaliplatin. As you know, I am determined to win and it is upsetting that the drugs got the better of me today...I'll get over it, but just putting my emotions out there.

Not sure how this will affect the next few days. Oxali is the drug that causes the first bite syndrome pain, so maybe that won't be as bad...and the gradual tolerance trial should minimize the side effects in the future. So that's good. But I still have my pal, the pump and so it's likely I'll still be exhausted and nauseous. But we'll see...

On a positive note, it seems we are 1 "okay" away from launching Grateful Fighters. Today, I saw the embroidered baseball hats prototype and it is freakin' fantastic. Thanks to the folks at Rock Free Love for all of their hard work on this project. I can't wait for you all to see it...hopefully, that will be the next blog post!

In the meantime, make sure you are getting your screenings, make sure you are seeing your primary doc once a year, and make sure you are vaxxed/boosted, etc. I know the colonoscopy prep or the boob smushing isn't fun, but your stories of positive screenings completed still brightens my spirits daily!!

#getscreened
#gratefulfighters

On Cancer and Teaching, Part II

 2.18.22

 

Today, the shit hit the proverbial fan. In Illinois, the governor's executive order mandating masking in schools was overturned. This has led to myriad responses across the state.

In the district where I live, there are reports of anti-mask staff and students bullying and harassing students who choose to remain masked. Whether you support masks or not, this is totally unacceptable. It is a school admin and staff responsibility to keep kids safe - and this responsibility was totally abused today in district 225.

In my own school of employment, we have a 4-day weekend, so preparations for the unmasking next Tuesday are a bit easier. Today, we received a lengthy communication for our administration in advance of informing the community that we will be mask optional starting Tuesday. The email detailed how staff should be respectful in creating a safe environment for all students regardless of their mask choices. I am sure that my colleagues and I will do just that for our students.

But this all means something different for me and my family on a personal level. Though I'm not really afraid of Covid, I am going through chemotherapy. I am immunocompromised. There is a much greater risk to my health. And frankly, I am hurt and offended by my school community's response regarding my personal safety.

Quite simply, in light of my situation and legitimate health concerns, if I could request students mask in my classroom. To be honest, I'm not sure my students would argue given that we have a relationship and they know my situation. However, I was told that at this time, we cannot put pressure to mask or unmask on students. In general, I get it. In my case, I feel like I've just been given a giant middle finger.

For 25 years, I have worked in my school community. Over those years, I have given 100% plus to my students and community. I have sacrificed my own mental and personal health at time in servicing my students. I have sacrificed my family and friends at other time, in light of giving my all to serve my students. And now that my personal health is at risk, I have been given the middle finger. I am hurt and I am offended.

Apparently for 25 years, I've been doing it wrong. I'm not sure it's in my DNA, but this very morning has greatly changed my perspective and priorities as an educator.

Today vs. Yesterday - On Cancer and Teaching

 2.1.22

I noticed a serious difference in myself between Yesterday (Monday) and Today (Tuesday). For the most part, that's no big deal - but for me, it was huge, and I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm a teacher.

This is not a jab at all other professions. It's about being a teacher, and what most non-teachers do not understand about us. We are perfectionists. We feel the weight, every day, of inspiring countless kids - engaging them, entertaining them, helping them grow. When we are not our best or when a lesson doesn't go as planned - we beat ourselves up.

Cancer aside, I think that is what makes the past few years of Covid, so difficult for teachers. Whether what we are doing works or not - eschool, pod learning, or whatever - we feel the burden of success and failure. And when the public piles on, calling teachers greedy or lazy or bad at our jobs, it is soul crushing. Yet, much of the general public seems to be an expert on education and pedagogy and is willing to bash teachers at every turn. It's no wonder that our profession is bleeding teachers at an alarming rate, and that lower numbers are entering the profession these days.

I'd be lying if I said that I never thought about leaving the profession. Over my 25 year career, I have polished up my resume a few times. Ultimately, I've stuck it out because I love what I do. But yesterday was tough. I was still nauseous from Round 5, and I knew I was not at my best. And like I said, when I'm not at my best - I feel bad and depressed. It comes home with me. It keeps me up at night wondering what I could have done to make it better.

I feel like teaching is one of a few professions where you cannot hide a bad day. I have worked in other places at times in my life - in offices, you can 'hide' for awhile and catch up on work. When I was younger, I was able to 'ride out' a hangover at my desk until I was better functioning. My guess is that is possible in a lot of places. But it is not possible in teaching. I cannot tell my 2nd hour to hold tight for a while until my head clears. I have to teach because I have no other options. And I realized yesterday, that in an ideal world, I would have been able to take sick time while one of my awesome colleagues covered my class, so the students wouldn't be cheated. But I don't have unlimited sick time...even during a long-term illness. Truthfully, I should be taking 3-4 days off every chemo cycle [and many people have expressed surprise that I try not to miss any teaching through this chemotherapy], but that's not the way our world works. I can't think of any profession that gets that much sick time, but I know that 3-4 days every cycle, I'm pushing myself to teach my students - and beating myself up when I'm not at my best.

So, yesterday was tough because I really noticed that I was not at my best. Amazingly though, yesterday turned into Today - and there was no nausea, my enthusiasm/energy were back, and I felt more capable to engage and inspire my students. Thankfully, there are more Todays than Yesterdays in my life. And thankfully, I think my students are with me and they are learning to ebb and flow with me so that we can maximize our work together.

So if teaching is so tough, why not switch careers for another 6 figure profession as it seems people are doing based on the article linked above? Apparently teachers are in demand (belying the trite - those who can't teach crap), so why not flee for another career where I might make more and have less stress?

I guess the answer can be summed up within the controversy over the graphic novel MAUS being removed from the 8th grade curriculum in a small county in Tennessee. Many of you know that I taught MAUS for nearly a decade and I was privileged to present about it at an Illinois Assoc of Teachers of English conference years ago, and I was written up in the Chicago Tribune for being on the cutting edge of teaching graphic novels. For years, a colleague and I were contacted multiple times a year by educators from around the country and Canada to share resources on teaching MAUS due to materials we had put online.

And that stuff is cool and great...but it doesn't define why I teach. Over the past few days, I have been contacted by former students who are aghast and upset at the news out of Tennessee. One former student wrote:
"look what TN did....a tragedy! Most memorable class and an important book. What a shame. If we don't remember history we are bound to repeat it ... I still have my book with notes 19 years later."

In a nutshell, that's why I teach. And I want to thank the students who reached out to me this past week to remind me. Sure, the yesterdays are tough...but the impact we can make when the Todays are awesome, is immeasurable. So I will continue to fight through the Yesterdays this spring, while I fight this beast, and I will strive for the Todays that make a difference.

While other teachers may not have an illness like me, please know that they are battling their own Yesterdays and striving for the precious moments. Please support them, love them, send them notes of thanks. Not one teacher is out there trying to ruin kids - whether they are a great teacher or a good teacher. Do not listen to those afraid of teaching real history. Do not fret about those trying to foment panic about some mythical CRT being taught. The fact is that teachers are all out there, pouring their souls into our future. Help us all seek better Todays!

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

Writer's Block

1.21.22

It's been a month since I last blogged...for a bunch of reasons, but it's hard to believe that a month has passed. In truth, I have written, rewritten, and decided not to post about being an introvert. I guess part of being a writer is deciding what to share and what not to share, but other than the aforementioned thoughts about struggling with being an introvert in an extroverted world, I have purposely avoided publishing anything monotonous and/or negative.

And there has been a lot of 'negative' in the past month between Chemo and Covid. 2022 has so far been a real bitch. Most of you know this from reading Brandi's last CaringBridge post from 1.12.22 about my ability to go through the 4th round of Chemo as being the highlight of 2022 so far. Since then, I feel like we have continued to struggle with a 'plague on our house'. 2 of the boys tested positive last Tuesday and have been quarantined this week, in addition to Brandi being 'regular' sick and Lucy's ear infections. I long for a healthy household.

Maybe I have had writers' block because I was trying to avoid sharing that it seems like with each subsequent round of Chemo, the side effects are becoming more severe. I knew that this was a possibility, but I was hoping that my body would resist better. Unfortunately, this puts even more pressure on poor Brandi and the boys...as my neuropathy and cold sensitivities last longer into the 2-week cycle. Initially, my main symptoms subsided by the end of the weekend following Chemo - so Wednesday through Sunday were rough, but then I had 9 somewhat normal days. But now, I'm still having neuropathy/cold issues 9 days after Chemo. (Thankfully, first bite syndrome has subsided but that also lasted longer). What does this mean? It means that I cannot help walk Lucy. It means that when I get into work, I have to wait for my fingers to stop hurting so I can do work which is mostly on computer. It means that it is painful to pump gas. It means that if it snows, I can't help clear the driveway. There's more...but I think you get the idea. Not ideal.

More importantly, if the neuropathy continues, I worry that the doctor will have to adjust (meaning reduce) some of the Chemo meds. I do not want that to happen because I want to beat this beast with the strongest weapons we have at our disposal. Brandi's burden and the medication issue are my primary concerns...and I guess my writer's block, inability to sleep well, and somewhat increased 'depression' lately are a result.

Ugh, this post turned into more of a bummer than I intended. I am sorry, that was not my intention. But now, I guess, you know how I have been feeling lately. And I suppose I promised from the get go to 'keep it real.'

But let me try and end on a more positive note. Despite the tough times, I am still buoyed by you all. Not a day goes by without a text or a message or some other sort of inspiration from many of you, and I wanted to share 2 recent things that have lifted me up.

First, I received a note in the mail from a friend from high school. While we have been Facebook

friends for a long time, I am not sure we have seen each other in over 30 years. My friend is not Jewish, but she went out of her way to 'research' and send a hand drawn note written in Hebrew. And she was worried she didn't do it 'right.' Let me assure you - it was perfect, and it was even more poetic that it arrived from Texas the same week that 4 Jews were taken hostage in a Texas synagogue. It is a reminder that even in the toughest times, we stand together as humans in pursuit of peace.

The other thing that lifted me up today was a note I received from another friend - one of the many of you who have heeded our #gratefulfighters call to get screened. Here is the note I received after checking in on my friend after his colonoscopy yesterday:

"Good morning brother! All went well and I am in the clear. Here is my big take away though. Every one of my children and my wife have thanked me for going and getting checked out. They were all convinced that I would never go see any Dr.

My father passed from cancer of the pancreas when he was 59. I grew up with him in the hospital. Kidney stones, operation after operation and pain killer addiction. I have avoided going to the Dr as much as a person can. All until you have shared your experience. Something inside me said to take responsibility and be proactive.

I'm not sure if you want the credit for helping me make a decision for health, but truthfully it belongs to you fighting and sharing! Having my children express how much it meant to them was moving in a way I hadn't expected. I am grateful today for things I was unaware of yesterday! What a powerful connection. I hope you know that you are changing lives brother! I pray that it means everything and more that you need it to. I'm certainly more aware of what it means to me!"

No, I do not want credit. I am so happy for every person we inspire to take control of their health. And yes, each note of this sort means everything to me and to Brandi. It's a big reason why, even as an introvert, I continue to put myself 'out there' during this battle.  As I read this note this morning, Alon turned to me and asked me what was wrong. I had tears in my eyes. Yes, this note and the support of ALL of you means that much to me.

Shabbat Shalom
Have a peaceful weekend!
#GratefulFighters
#GetScreened

One Day at a Time...

 

12.21.21

The truth is, it seems that the weekends after my treatments are going to be rough. I should not be surprised, and no one told me that this battle would be easy, but if I'm being honest, on Sunday I was feeling like I had had enough. The thought crept into the back of my mind that I do not think I can feel like this another 10 weekends. I happen to have a fairly high pain threshold, but 48-72 hours of nausea is no fun and it takes a mental toll...it's a whole different ballgame.

One of the first goals Brandi and I set when this fight started was to be able to find a way to schedule Chemo so that I had a good shot at feeling well enough to make it to my niece's bat mitzvah in Florida. We were not sure that would happen over the weekend. On top of feeling awful, I had the double whammy of watching Brandi take care of everything in prep for our trip. She had to do laundry, pack all of the kids, ensure the house was locked down, arrange for mail pick up, and more.

Long story short, I woke up feeling on Monday feeling decent enough to make the trip and we made it here to be with family and to relax. We all tested negative before we left. We have an airbnb, my brother in law's pool club, and outdoor eating. We aren't playing tourist, we are not doing anything 'high risk" with Omicron running wild and my immune system in flux. We are just hanging out. One day at a time. Enjoying family time.

One day at a time. Like I said, on Sunday, I was down. On Sunday, things were dark. But the great thing about our world is that sometimes, when you need it most, the Wheel of Fortuna spins and things start looking up. And it was while we were sitting in our seats at the airport gate, that an old friend, his wife, and his son rumbled on over. It was so good to see them, to have a hug, to catch up, to chat about how I was feeling. My friend's response - "One day at a time." It is easy to forget, but that is so true. Fight through the bad day or two, move on to enjoy the next. So here I am, 80 degrees, in shorts, with family.

But that was not the only uplifting moment yesterday. Another old friend happened along and was also on our flight. This person was a participant when Brandi and I were madrichim (counselors) on Shorashim in the summer of 2000. We are in touch, but I'd never caught up with her in person - and seen her in mom mode with her 2 beautiful young children. And so, by the time our flight took off, the nausea was in retreat and my heart was full of friends, memories, and the promise of the day.

*I withheld the names of my friends in case they are sensitive to publicity in this day and age.

I should also mention here that even though I was still feeling 'okay' at the time, Laina and Patrick visited me for a few hours on Friday. Friday is the bridge when the 48 hours of chemo drugs are finishing and the nausea comes on. I feel really fortunate that they were in town and able to spend a few hours. I need my people. It makes a difference - and that is true for those I am lucky enough to see in person, and for those that are there that make their presence known in so many different ways whether it be sending a 'heart' text or inviting me to watch football. Y'all are my lifeline.

**I meant to add a special thanks to the lovely people that brought us Shabbat dinner Friday. It was delicious and a big help given the tough weekend!!

Fortuna smiled upon me this week when I needed the wheel to spin. I hope that it also smiles upon you and yours at this holiday season. Live every day - one day at a time - and love and rejoice in each other. And if I don't blog before then, Merry New Year to you all!

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

P.S. Thanks, Brandi, for getting us down here. You are everything.

Jinx - Buy Me A Coke!

 12.8.21

Yes, I'm going to jinx it. Well, I don't really believe in jinxes (unless I'm putting the hex on a late game free throw shooter at Assembly Hall in Champaign), so I'm safe...I think.

But first, I was inspired to write today because I received the following message a few minutes ago:

It is so awesome to see people hearing our message to #GetScreened and #EarlyDetectionSavesLives. To be clear, it's not the first message like this I've received, but this one just came at a time when I could gather myself to write a bit. That being said, I love, love, love getting these messages whether they are just telling us that they just got their procedure scheduled or whether they just finished the procedure. This is the type of thing that lifts my soul, and it's also the type of thing that I am writing about as we work on final steps to bring #GratefulFighters to life. We are already making a difference and that means something - actually, it means a shit-ton to me. So please, continue to reach out and tell me your successes with scheduling your required annual physicals, mammograms, colonoscopies, and more!

Oh, yea, I got lost kvelling (it's Yiddish, look it up) about my awesome friends using modern medicine to maintain their health and I almost forgot about jinxes...

I feel good. It took a few days post-chemo, but I feel good. You knew that I would...

Here's what cycle 1 of Chemo looks like so far:
Tuesday Blood Work - Feelin' fine.
Wednesday Chemo Day - Feelin' fine
Thursday Pump Day 1 - Nausea and Exhaustion creepin' in
Friday Pump Day 2 - Steady nausea and exhausted
Saturday/Sunday - Steady nausea and as much bed time as possible
Monday - Rough start, but feeling human by lunch time.
Tuesday/Wednesday - No nausea meds needed, fully at work, kickin' arse and takin' names.
Thursday through next Wednesday (Chemo 2 Cycle) - Continued feeling groovy!

JINX!

Not.

Love you all. Continually grateful for your love and support!

Keep spreadin' the good word on screenings!

#GratefulFighters

PS: Yes, I tried to find the 1984 SNL clip with the Jinx, Buy Me a Coke skit, alas, I was unsuccessful other than finding it on archive.org at about the 20:29 mark with Billy Crystal, Mary Gross, and Julia Louis Dreyfus.

After Review....

12.2.21

I will admit. I wasn't going to post this today. It feels a bit narcissistic, constantly writing about myself.  My apologies for that. At the same time, my original impetus for writing was to make sure that I recorded the memories for me and for my kids/family to have one day...

Yesterday, I was privileged to drive 2/3 of the boys to school - I enjoy those moments even more these days and I have learned to cherish even the 'quiet' times when they are still waking up. If you're a parent - you know how those teens & preteens need their wake up time! Ami is particularly sensitive to what is going on these days. He made sure to tell me that he hoped my chemo went well and that I felt as good as possible. He also got himself a ride to and from his pre-tournament weekend warm-up game at Niles North. Knowing that I wasn't going to make it to St. Louis this weekend to watch him, I really wanted to make it to the game, but Ami assured me that it was okay if I was not up to it. They really do grow up....eventually.

From drop off, I drove right to Glenbrook Hospital for the first treatment. I sat in the parking lot for 5 to 10 minutes, just gathering my thoughts. I happen to know a friend's wife who was also starting Chemo at the same time, and I said a prayer for both of us. I hope to one day be able to celebrate with her!

I knew right away that Brandi and I made the right choice going with Northshore. Everyone was incredibly welcoming, kind, and informative. My doctor enthusiastically shook my hand and shared my desire to get the fight going! I showed him the #GratefulFighters sweatshirt and, without hesitation, he asked me to let him know as soon as they were available. The doc, each nurse, the pharmacist, the nutritionist, and a social worker, each spent as much time as I needed to explain things step by step and to answer all of my questions. I know I won't see all of those staff members once this is regular, but it made me extremely comfortable.

Quick details for those that want to know. My blood work all checked out and so I was cleared for Chemo. The Chemo starts with anti-nausea meds and steroids for 30 minutes. Once that is done, I wait for 30 minutes for those meds to settle in my system. Apparently, the steroids end up bolstering my energy and since they last through the 2 days of the pump, the first two days aren't as 'tiring'. The possibility is that once the pump is out tomorrow, I will 'crash' for a bit.

Next, I spent 2 hours hooked up to the Oxaliplatin Chemo drug that breaks the DNA of cancer cells and prevents growth of new ones. When that is done, the pump of Flourouracil is hooked up to my portal. This is another cancer drug. The pump is about the size of small water balloon. They tape the line to my chest so it doesn't get tugged out, put the pump in a fanny pack, and sent me on my way.

There are a bunch of potential side effects to all of these drugs. I won't go through them all, but I am keeping notes (I'm sure you're not surprised). The relevant one right now is cold sensitivity. The nurses made a big deal of suggesting I have gloves handy because even the cold steering wheel in the car may cause pain. Yesterday, it was not really cold enough to bother me, but I did pick up a few pairs of those little knit gloves at Walgreens on the way home. I put one by the fridge and one in my jacket pocket.

They also warn that the cold sensitivity can occur orally. I was really hungry when I got home and I grabbed some pretzels and hummus. I didn't consider Hummus to be a cold food, but let me tell you - they were not lying. One bite of the hummus and I had shooting pain in my mouth for about a minute. Needless to say, I won't make that mistake again. Later on, I chose a soft bagel to eat. Apparently, the first bite of food can cause jaw pain as well. That has happened a few times over the past day. Subsequent bites are fine...but ouch, that first bite is so painful at the joint of my jaw. But that's it. And if those are the only things that happen, I figure that's a small price to pay for beating this thing. A little mouth pain is NOT going to deter me from my battle. I have too many memories to make with my brilliant wife, amazing kids, family, and friends.

Sleeping with my BiPAP and the pump wires was a bit tricky. But according to my Fitbit, I slept about 6.5 hours. Not awful! And I woke today feeling pretty good. All in all, not a bad first day!

Maybe none of the above is that narcissistic as it's just informative...but here's the part that is most important to me. As you all know, I love watching my sons engage in the activities they love. Right now, Nadav is playing basketball for his school team and will start winter soccer soon. I'm excited to see him play basketball now that his broken finger is healed.

Ami, as I mentioned above, is back playing soccer with his awesome FC Mirage club and they have a tourney in St. Louis Saturday/Sunday. Since I can't go to St. Lou, my goal yesterday was to be well enough to drive to Niles North (about 25 minutes away), to watch Ami's game. Well, I made it there. Ami has grown immensely as a player in the last 2 years. He's stronger and faster, and he's a pleasure to watch when he's focused. I am so proud of him in so many ways, and his play on the pitch is no exception.

Anyhow, during the game, I was having some daydreaming/flashbacks to when I was in high school. Niles North was in our conference and in the Fall of 1987, I played at Niles North and scored a goal there. I imagined how cool it would be to see my son score a goal on the same field. Amazingly, later in the first half, that dream came true. It was a bit surreal because sometimes I forget how fast Ami has become (when healthy). But there he was, flying in from the wing, taking a pass, and powering it past the goalie. I'm not afraid to admit that it brought a tear to my eye. I love seeing my kids find success in doing what they love. I am proud of each and every one of them.

The game ended 1-0.

Game winner for Ami.
Game winner for my buddy, (You know who you are), who had his colonoscopy with a positive outcome!
Game 1 winner for Me vs. Cancer - I'm doing the Chemo and I've got this.

#GetScreened
#EarlyDetectionSavesLives
#GratefulFighters


**The goal linked here was from a GBN game this fall. Last night was a similar play but instead of passing, Ami took the ball more toward the goal and shot.

And there's the narcissism ;) Thanks for indulging my kid brag.

On the Eve of My Havdalah

 

11.29.21

One of my absolute favorite Jewish rituals is the Havdalah service that separates Shabbat and Holidays from the rest of the week. I definitely developed a love for Havdalah at camp as a child. Later as a song leader, I was privileged to lead many Havdalah services at camp, on retreats, in Poland and Israel with Shorashim, and many other places. I still relish the short, but beautiful singing of prayers, the glow of the twisted candle casting shadows on the faces of those around, the overflowing cup of wine over-spilling with blessings for the coming week, the rejuvenating smell of spices, and the reflective thoughts of the week that just passed and combined with the anticipation of the week ahead. Haunting and beautiful at the same time - it marked the separation of so many weeks of my life.

Havdalah literally means separation, and while today is not a Jewish sabbath or holiday, it does mark a significant separation of time in my life. Some Havdalot bring happiness - my marriage and the birth of my kids, for example. I remember each of those vividly and how my life has been enriched (for the most part 😂) with each new change. But on September 27th, 2021, I received my diagnosis and the . separation between thinking I was healthy and having cancer.  That Havdalah brought surgery to remove the cancer and gave me time to heal enough to face the next separation which begins tomorrow - the cycle of 6 months of chemotherapy.

Truthfully, I only made this connection to Havdalah over the past few days. And even though it is not an actual religious ceremony, it makes a lot of sense to mark these types of transitions in our lives - to name them and accept them. Most of the big moments - births (baby namings/bris), bar/bat mitzvot, weddings, funerals - are all accompanied by tradition and ceremony; however, there is nothing really to mark the separation for other moments of transition in our lives. At least for me, it will help to look at my new realities in this way - a separation between what was and what will be. A time to reflect and look ahead.

The past 9-ish weeks since my diagnosis have brought about a slew of changes - some good and some more difficult. I have seen the unbelievable strength of my wife, a pillar for our family from the moment we learned of the diagnosis. I have seen my kids act with an extra layer of compassion. Unfortunately, they are having to grow up and mature a bit faster than normal, but they are rising to the occasion. I have been touched by the love and prayers and support from so many people in my life. And I have learned a bunch about myself along the way. Among those things: an inner strength to persevere; an optimistic side to counter my typically sarcastic pessimism; and a still-developing ability to ask for and/or receive help. I expect that the next step will bring about even more good times and some difficult moments as well.

My 6 month cycle (12 treatments) starts tomorrow. Tuesdays, I get blood drawn and tested to make sure my white blood cells and other counts are healthy. Wednesdays, I will spend 3 or so hours hooked up to the IV chemo drip. For 48 hours, I will have a chemo pump attached to my chest portal, and that will be removed on Fridays. Rinse and repeat every 2 weeks until the end of May.

Tonight, I sit with an overflowing cup of the blessings that all of my family, friends, and others from all walks of my life have bestowed upon me the past couple of months. I have said before, and I'll say again, how important those thoughts and prayers have been for me and my family. A major part of that is the work I have done with Laina and others on #GratefulFighters. That labor of love and the goal of raising funds and awareness has been so therapeutic. I am a damn lucky guy - all of this love has filled my over-filled my cup! 

The past 5+ weeks since surgery have also brought rejuvenation. I have stopped to smell the spices of life. I have played more games with the little son and tried to have more 'man to man' time with the bigger sons. I have relished reconnecting with many people and just the little chats. And I have been lucky enough to 'forget' about work for the first time in decades because of the amazing friends I have that are covering for me as teacher and literacy coach. Now that I am 'over' the portal surgery, I feel refreshed and ready for the next step.

Most of all, like the Havdalah candle - symbolizing G-d's gift of fire that warms and brightens our otherwise dark/gloomy lives, I have a fire burning inside of me. That fire is kindled and strengthened by your love and prayers, and its strength comes from my amazing wife and the desire to be an example for my kids for how to attack adversity and overcome any obstacles that life may put in our way.

Yes, there is a lot of reflection to be done on the past couple of months - and there is a lot to look forward to in the months ahead until the next Havdalah - the end of chemotherapy. There will be ups and downs during this next phase of my life, but I am so blessed that you are all here with me, along for the ride.

Blessed are you, Adonai, who separates good and bad, happy and sad, sickness and health, and allows me to reflect and look forward to another significant moment in my life.

Love you all,

Early Detection Saves Lives
#GratefulFighters

555

        "If I don't break away clean

        I might stray from the scene

        Make an escape when it arrives:

        The 555"

 

11.25.21

In the 5th week post-surgery, I visited my 5th hospital/outpatient center, and received my 5th incision.

Well, that's not a very Thanksgiving-like beginning to a post! I apologize. I am Thankful and I will get into the holiday spirit...and I swear I'm not getting misty watching this cute little girl sing songs from Annie to open the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Yes, the sun will come out tomorrow...and the next day and the next day. But admittedly, this past week has been hard and I'm writing this to try to break away clean from that and the upcoming Thanksgiving weekend.

Between the political and the personal, I need an escape. From Kenosha to Israel, society is fractured. I mean, Jewish blood literally flowed through the streets of my beloved Jerusalem. That image has been hard enough to escape, but the lack of media coverage and the silence from the squad and the usual celebs that go out of their way to demonize Israel is overbearing. I know you're not here for political commentary, but those things are weighty enough without the health issues. Oh, and the Illini basketball suckitude didn't help either 😉

Weeks ago, I mentioned my general disdain for hospitals - call it phobia, call it anxiety - doesn't matter. So as I laid in Evanston Hospital on Tuesday, awaiting my portal installation, I couldn't help but feel down. Here I was in yet another hospital and when I got home and looked in the mirror, there I was with 5 wounds in my torso. I spent all summer in rehab/PT for my knees to avoid any kind of surgery - and here I was with battle scars all over.

I think the portal install was more difficult and painful than the surgery I had 5 weeks ago. It's uncomfortable, it stings, and since I'm a stomach sleeper, I haven't slept well the past couple of nights. So this week has really been the first prolonged period of depression I've experienced since my diagnosis 9/27. And when that happens, the bad thoughts start creeping in. For the most part, I've been pretty good at staving off the sadness and depression and dark places. But this week has been a bit much.

That being said, no, I don't need anything. I just wanted to be honest since many people comment on how I am remarkably positive. Yes, I do my best to keep a brave face and positive attitude, but it's not easy. I feel the need to make sure my boys see me positive and fighting, especially so they don't get stressed and sad. One day when they look back on this, I want them to know that I did not just give up and abandon them. That being said, I'm just keepin' it real. Sometimes, it's not easy to stay positive...and this week has been hard. I'm sure there will be hard days to come once the Chemo starts.

But it's Thanksgiving. The sun has come out and it will continue to come out. I think that my collapsed lung is getting better! I'm less winded and the fluid is coming up. So there's that! And I continue to be grateful to my wife and family and friends who lift me up every day. I am thankful for your love and prayers and thoughts. I already feel better for writing this and getting it off my chest. Thank you for letting me share the good times and the painful times.

Make sure to spread the love, today and every day. And of course, live every day to its fullest. I hope that your day is filled with family and your table is filled with great food and your heart is content.

Sending hugs to every one of you!

Get your screenings!
#GratefulFighters