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

Looks Like...

 

 

 

 

11.16.21

Met with Dr. Adess, oncologist #2, yesterday. There were no real surprises in the interpretation of my CT scans, cancer pathology, and recommended course of treatment. That being said, Brandi and I both walked out of our consultation with Dr. Adess feeling like he was the right choice to help lead my fight against this cancer. To be honest, we liked both doctors and felt that my level of care at Northwestern or Northshore would be top notch. But sometimes, you just go with your gut - and our gut said, Dr. Adess.

Two other things helped with our choice:

•  Proximity: my treatments will be at Glenbrook Hospital - right down the street from me.
•  Multiple friends recommended Dr. Adess. Unfortunately, they had to have the experience; fortunately, he saved their lives.
  

So...away we go! It is a relief to see the path ahead start to take shape. For those of you who would like to follow along closely, here's how this will work. First, I will have a port inserted in my chest before Thanksgiving. This will allow doctors easy access to deliver my meds and draw blood without using me like a pin cushion. My father like this course of action because after his 4 chemo treatments, the needles had really started to irritate him. He's getting a port as well. We're gonna be port buddies!

As far as the chemo goes, the cycle will go as follows: Tuesdays, I will go to Glenbrook and have blood drawn. Wednesdays, I will go back to Glenbrook for the actual Chemo session which will run about 3.5 hours. For 48 hours, I will be hooked up to a pump I have to carry around to continue to meds. Fridays, I return to Glenbrook to have the pump removed.  Rinse and repeat every 2 weeks for 6 months = 12 total chemo sessions. My first cycle will start 11/30 with the blood draw and 12/1 with the chemo. 

I am told that everyone reacts differently to chemo. Both doctors were pretty confident that they manage the nausea well, but other side affects may arise. My hope is that I will tolerate it well and have minimal issues. Some side effects include: thinning hair (not really an issue for me); hand/foot skin rash and peeling; upset stomach; and risk of neuropathy. The last one is the most concerning because so much of my life revolves around being able to use my hands to type for work, authorship, and pleasure (Brandi, get your mind out of the gutter - I meant for things like playing guitar). So we'll keep our fingers crossed for now and hope that my body tolerates chemo as well as it did with the surgery.

As soon as I know when my port will be installed, I will ease back into work. I will likely start with teaching my afternoon classes before going back full-time. Soon we will be sharing links to purchase #GratefulFighter merch that will spread the word about screenings and raise money for cancer research. That stuff and planning Nadav's bar mitzvah will keep me busy.

The hope is that other than the time spent back and forth to Glenbrook Hospital, life will be pretty normal for the next few months as the battle goes on internally. But don't worry, if I need support, I will ask. I'm continuing to work on accepting help...

I'm nervous, but ready to get fighting. In the meantime, continued thanks for your thoughts, prayers, and support. Having you all by my side makes this battle easier to face. That is the honest truth, and I am grateful to my amazing wife, kids, family, and all of you out there along for the ride.

Keep spreading the word about screenings and sharing the stories. Each one is a victory!

#EarlyDetectionSavesLives
#GratefulFighters

I Feel Good...

11.10.21 

The past few days, I have run into a bunch of people out and about. So many have told me that I look really good with a hint of surprise. And I have responded that I feel good.

It's not a lie. I do feel good, and I want people to know that. While I have been open and honest in this blog space about my journey, my anxieties, and my emotions, I hope that I have not given people the impression that I am laid up and in poor shape. I am not. Sure, I get tired a bit quicker as I'm still recovering, but I feel good and at this point, my body has responded well to the surgery which gives me hope that it will also manage the upcoming chemotherapy well, too. So, I wanted all of my readers to know that I am doing really well.

While you're here, I'll just give a quick update. Yesterday, we met with my team oncologist. My team remains positive about my prognosis. Colon cancer care is pretty well established in my situation and the success rate is high. Even so, we are going to get a 2nd opinion and view of treatment on Monday from another highly rated oncologist.

My team anticipates 6 months of chemo which will begin about December 13th. The IV and pill treatment will be every 3 weeks over those 6 months and we are starting on 12/13 so that schedule will allow me to travel to Florida in December for my niece's bat mitzvah without missing treatment. It will also allow me to be at the end of my last 3 week cycle the weekend of Nadav's bar mitzvah in May with my final treatment coming the Monday after his bar mitzvah weekend. Assuming all goes smoothly and according to plan, I should feel well enough to go to Israel with my family in early June.

So, that's the hope right now. In the meantime, I am looking forward to getting back to work around Thanksgiving and I am really excited to launch #GratefulFighters soon in order to start raising money for cancer charities and to raise awareness of the importance of screenings and early detection.

To that end, I hope you all keep sharing stories about you and yours scheduling colonoscopies and mammograms with me. I am proud of so many of you for taking action for yourselves and your loved ones. Keep it up and keep spreading the word to your networks. These procedures are not bad and they just may save your life. 

My landscape would be empty if you were gone...so please take action today.

I'll share another update after meeting with the next oncologist next week. Until then, know I continue to be grateful for your love, support, and prayers.

#EarlyDetectionSavesLives
#GratefulFighters

 

 

The waiting is the hardest part...

11.1.21

Just a little over a month. It is absolutely crazy how much life can change in such a short time.

I think that for a long time, I was on cruise control. It is easy to understand why. I have had a successful career for 25 years. I am a published author. I have incredible parents, siblings, in-laws, wife, kids, and friends. I have everything I need...except maybe an Illini national championship. I am blessed.

But for me, as you know by now, September 27th, changed everything. Since that moment, I have done what I can to stop taking things for granted. I turned off the cruise control. I have done my best to look at each day and each moment as special - and I have started the process of trying to share moments with the people in my life to make sure they know how much I love and appreciate them - whether we have been friends for weeks, months, years, decades, or lifetimes. To my friends reading this, if we have not had a chance to reconnect and share a hug, a memory, or more, just know that it is coming, soon I hope, and that every one of you in my life matter.

Over the past month, while waiting for the next steps, I have had a lot of time to reflect.  And while the waiting to get to the next step, eager to get the next battle started is difficult, I am grateful for the renewed perspective that has come with the time to reflect. Hopefully, not only will I emerge from this healthier of body, but also of mind.

That being said, there is a yin and yang to having so much waiting time.  Right now, we are in a holding pattern - caught between healing from surgery and awaiting treatment pathways, chemo or otherwise. I have been home from the hospital for a week, and other than the little 24 hour adventure where I must have had a stomach bug, I have felt really good. No doubt, a large part of that is due to your thoughts and prayers and love.

Waiting. While the reflection time is good, the flip side is there is also time to struggle with my demons. For one, I feel useless in so many ways. I am hoping that on Wednesday, the surgeon will clear me to drive and do a bit more physical work - so I can feel useful again and take some of the burden off of Brandi. Right now, I am looking out my window and feeling the urge to go mow the lawn.

I am also struggling with guilt. I feel so badly for putting the people I love through this trauma. Maybe if I had lived my life a bit healthier or differently, I could have spared everyone this emotional ordeal. I keep apologizing to my mom, my wife, my kids, and I feel badly that so many of our friends have stopped their lives to bring us meals and to help us move furniture and to cover my duties at work. I really wish I was not sitting here, writing these words, waiting to meet with doctors to tell me what the immediate battle will entail. Waiting to know whether or not I will be able to make it down to Florida in December to attend my lovely niece's bat mitzvah, waiting to know whether or not my illness will prevent the family trip to Israel next June, waiting to know when I can return to work and get back to my students and colleagues...yes, the waiting is the hardest part.

For those wondering, here are the next steps:
1. Wednesday, we will meet with the surgeon to make sure the healing is progressing as well as we think it is. Again, hoping I'll be cleared to drive and do some work.
2. I will meet with two oncologists to discuss their treatment plans and philosophies. The first one is 11.9 and the second is 11.15. After those two meetings, we will know more about treatment options and plans.

And here is how I plan to continue the waiting:
1. Reading: I have a bunch of YA books to peruse. I read these books to make sure I always have books to recommend to my students - and they're fun.
2. Working on the plan for fundraising and awareness. #GratefulFighters is in process - registering for nonprofit status and creating fundraising/awareness merchandise that I hope will spin some light out of this darkness.
3. Continuing to work on me and being more present for those I love.

You may not hear from me until #GratefulFighters is ready or we have more news on next steps. So while we wait, please keep spreading the word about screenings and early detection. We are saving lives. And also, please take a moment to stop and reinvest yourselves in your loves - this pandemic and the past 2+ years have been hard. Now, more than ever, we need to

"walk together, little children
We don't ever have to worry
Through this world of trouble
We gotta love one another"

#ScreeningsSaveLives
#GratefulFighters

Sunday, Fun Day. Post Surgery Quick Update

10.24.21

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We got this!
#GratefulFighters

Twas the Night Before Surgery...

10.21.21

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please get your screenings.
Please say your prayers.

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

With love,

dan