Dr. Esserman of the Carol Franc Buck Breast Care Center
I thought I’d share this great article that appeared today about Dr. Laura Esserman who is the lead surgeon at the UCSF clinic where my wife goes for her procedures. My wife’s surgeon (S. Hwang) is part of this great group of surgeons who provide a great personal service.
The article also speaks to Jessica Galloway, who we had met through our children’s nursery school when my mother and she were going through chemo together. 5 years later, Jessica would be a great asset for my own wife as she navigated the information and questions associated with breast cancer.
I thought this article just captures the great community and personal excellence needed to get through a very trying time in the lives of breast cancer patients and survivors.
“When you get a second chance you never look back” – Sigfredo Sanchez, the father of San Francisco Giants pitcher, Jonathan Sanchez moments after his son pitched a no hitter
Giants pitcher Jonathan Sanchez hugs his father after pitching a no-hitter
…..this isn’t about a basebll no-hitter tonight. It is about a man, a pitcher, his father, and second chances. It is about taking a step back to take a giant leap forward.
We all hear of stories of second chances. Right now, for example, Lance Armstrong is coming back from his second retirement to race in the grueling Tour de France to help bring awareness to cancer. We see how adversity has made him stronger not only physcially, but mentally.
Tonight history was made for the San Francisco Giants as Jonathan Sanchez pitched a no-hitter. As any sports fan can attest when something happens for the team or teams they root for, they will always remember what they were doing. In fact tonight was the first time a Giants pitcher had pitched a no hitter in San Francisco in 34 years. On that day my father took me and some friends to a double header where I saw Ed “Ho-Ho” Halicki pitch a no-hitter against the Mets at Candlestick Park. As I watched tonight’s game, I started thinking about that day with my dad.
It was an incredible twist of fate for Sanchez. He was out of the Giants rotation and was in the doghouse. The newspapers were talking about him being traded. In fact things got so bad that no other teams were willing to trade for him. Now after this evening he is untradeable. How unpredictable was this? Only the fact that former Cy Young winner, Randy Johnson, got injured was Sanchez pitching tonight. The accomplishment was even more surprising given that the Giant’s starting pitching rotation consists of 3 Cy Young winners (Lincecum, Johnson and Zito) and a 4th pitcher who some argue has pitched better than them all (Matt Cain). Sanchez was the forgotten one. He was down on himself, kicked out of the rotation and replaced by a 28 year old rookie. So down was he that his father flew in from Puerto Rico just to give his son some support. It was the first time he had ever seen his son start a Major League Game in his 5 big league seasons. The personal story of Jonathan and his dad played out perfectly. His father fought back his tears as the embraced in the dugout and he told his son the words at the top of this entry. Fate also brought him together with his rookie catcher for the evening, Eli Whiteside, also a great story. The Giants regular catcher was at the hospital with his wife who is expecting, and was told only hours before the game that he would be catching. So it was by chance that this unlikely duo were thrust upon the scene and they will forever be linked. Jonathan Sanchez’s name will go up on a wall in Cooperstown, as the 262nd no-hitter in history.
His father is right, second chances are something we all don’t get much of, but when we do, we need to take advantage of them. Listening to the announcers, Sanchez had consulted for many days with anyone who would listen and worked countless hours on his own to fix his delivery and most of all learn to keep his head in the game. He had some good help. Randy Johnson, pitching coaches, Dave Righetti and assistant pitching coach Mark Gardner had all pitched no-hitters before and given him the mental knowledge. Not only had Sanchez never pitched a major league no hitter before, he had never pitched a complete game or a shutout, never having completed eight innings in a big league game. He got to uncharted waters and finished it.
Back in our daily lives my wife and I sat there and watched the story unfold and talked about how special this evening was for this young man and how his perseverance was something to learn from. When my mother-in-law called the other day, we thought she was calling to wish us a Happy 15th anniversary, she was calling to tell us my father in law is in the hospital fighting an infection with a 102 degree fever. Along with a couple of parents around us dying of cancer, it served a reminder that we are in our second chance right now with recovery from my wife’s cancer. In fact we need to come out better than before. Those with adversity like Jonathan Sanchez and Lance Armstrong seemed stronger because of the level of “fight” they needed in ther bodies. So this week we will be celebrating our second chance with a delayed anniversary celebration.
They say that true sports fans root for the laundry and not for the players themselves. I truly do root for the players. I root for their stories of how they came to be. I root for the human spirit within us all and the events which make that spirit in each one of us burn brighter than before. Jonathan Sanchez represents all that is right. Their individual stories are inspiring in themselves. As my wife saw the events unfold and heard the announcers provide color to the story she started rooting for “Johnny” Sanchez. She wanted his second chance to be successful and I saw she was also rooting for the human spirit. Sanchez , as you might hear Randy Johnson tell you, has just as much talent as anyone on the team which says a lot.
Congratulations to Johnny Sanchez and all the people out there who have had a second chance. They say no-hitters are great timing, great talent, and a little good luck. Well, I think sometimes you have to make your own luck and you have to put yourself in the situation to have good luck. It reminds me of the quote from one of my favorite actors, Gene Hackman, from the movie, “The Replacements” : ” I look at you and I see two men: the man you are and the man you oughtta be. Someday those two men will meet”. Tonight, they met for Jonathan Sanchez.
A Victory LapThe legacy of the dead will survive in the memory of the living
– The Mission (movie)
Tonight I was going through my personal email before heading home and saw a note about the parent in our class who has been fighting cancer for the last few years. He had been told that he has a few weeks left. I have given this parent and his wife Donald Wilhelm’s book, This Time’s A Charm, and although this parent does not need to read about another person’s cancer I felt that there are many similarities. What made me smile about this particular email was a great little note which made me cry and smile at the same time. It just reminded me about the human spirit and the strength that exhibited when it is faced with death. There is a calmness as well as an inspirational outlook when you investigate.
My father had always told me to try and put myself in the other person’s shoes to understand what they are going through. This was not a difficult one. With two young children of the same age as my own two children, I can just imagine the sadness going through his mind of not being able to see them grow up, not being able to take care f them and his wife, and not wanting to leave too much of a mess behind me. I had first thought that I didn’t want to bother them. I wanted to let them have their last days together and not try and take their kids away to take them off their hands for a couple hours. They didn’t need their kids away from their dad’s last days. They’ve seen him suffering for several years, but now he need to see his sons and give them some last memories of how to live strong. A last lesson that a father can pass to his sons in the hope that it will help them to live without a dad. They later mentioned that he wants his kids with them til the very end. I believe they think this time is very special and they have said more than on one occasion that each minute is a gift and that they are cherishing each one.
What got me over to their house tonight was the email though. In it was a paragraph and some photos ( I’ve received permission to share them):
So……..on XXX’s “bucket List” was a final entry: to enter the Antique Motorcycle Show. On Saturday, (after the hospital visit – and after they had received such devastating news) the family & some neighbors got together and loaded his 1926 Indian onto a trailor and towed it to the show. He was a passenger – and was able to get up & walk around a bit at the show. His Motorcycle won! He did a victory lap at the show, and when he came home – he said he will die a happy man.
As I mentioned, I cried and smiled as I read the email just before leaving work. I just had to stop by and visit. I was pleased to see another father there visiting the family. While smiles were there and he proudly held on to the award for his motorcycle, I could see his sadness and that he was sick as he had to leave a couple times during our conversation. His wife smiled and joked and I tried to stay within the moment which is hard to do when there is a 500 pound gorilla in the room. Watching their children play around the room saddened me. They seemed to ignore the conversation and
I did not want to stay too long out of respect for taking up too much of the limited quiet time they have together. I also was feeling a bit guilty. I thought of my own children at home and couldn’t help but feel very fortunate.
Winning in Life
Upon my return home I gave my children both a big hug. My son knew what was going on and asked me how his classmate’s father was doing. I told him the truth and how we need to be wary of this situation and do what we can when the time comes to help them. Although our sons are not close, I believe my son unfortunately understands the gravity of the situation given what are family has gone through this past year. As I put him to bed his questions out of concern for his classmate showed incredible compassion. Then I saw his own concern and fear as he asked me how I was doing and if we are okay in our family. He was putting himself in his classmate’s shoes. Even when I told him “We’re okay”, he did ask for reassurance. I just reminded him to take one day at a time and enjoy it and give it your best, but not worry too much.
As I shut the door on his room after kissing him goodnight, he gave me those final last words that we greet each other with every day, “Dad, good night, and take care of your body.” I laughed because kids are still innocent to believe that words will make things alright. To me it is just that you never know what those last words might be to someone. My words to this dad which might be my last to him? I can’t remember. I’m sure that they weren’t as profound as I’d want them to be, but I just didn’t want to say goodbye either. I didn’t want to remind him or anyone of the looming days.
Life is too short to not have a bucket list, but it is also too precious to live by it as well.
I believe life is constantly testing us for our level of commitment, and life’s greatest rewards are reserved for those who demonstrate a never-ending commitment to act until they achieve. This level of resolve can move mountains, but it must be constant and consistent. As simplistic as it sounds, it is still the common denominator separating those who live their dreams from those who live in regret” – Anthony Robbins
I borrowed the title of this blogentry from the new Black Eyed Peas album. The last couple of days just hit me kind of hard if you hadn’t guessed. Although three years have passed, the memories of my father are still strong and I’m learning they will always be withme. Although my father probably didn’t have a very tight relationship with his father, I’m sure there was enough to hold onto that lasted a lifetime for him.
My life is spent trying to make those long lasting memories for my own children. If I were to leave them prematurely I want them to have something to hold onto and cherish as their own. The night before Father’s Day we went out to a night baseball game that had a pre-game ceremony to honor Randy Johnson as only the 24th pitcher to reach the 300 career wins plateau in Major League Baseball. This is out of the over 8000 pitchers who have ever thrown a baseball in the major leagues. There in person were greats such as Tom Seaver, Gaylord Perry, and Nolan Ryan and we had front row seats. My son just sat there in awe reading the accomplishments of these men. When I asked him what he got out of it, he told me that none of them reached their goal until they were in their 40s. It is not what I had noted, but it was observant. These men had not only worked hard at their craft but they did it for a long time.
Well Father’s Day rolled around and like my dad did when I was a kid, I snuck out of the house to the golf course. Playing San Francisco’s Presidio Golf Course is my way to still play golf with my dad. Years ago I walked the course in the evening and spread my dad’s ashes. It was the route he walked his dog many time and the course that he played on many occasions as it is only two blocks from the house we lived in as a family. There is something about baseball and golf between a father and his child. Whether they are watching or playing, there is lots of time to talk about the little things in life that create the largest memories.
It was a beautiful Father’s Day and I was matched up with three other Fathers who had snuckout as well. One of the joys of San Francisco municipal golf that my dad instilled upon me was the fun of meeting new people on a golf course and getting to know them over a course of 5 hours as you stroll beautifully manicured terrain. We were really four strangers walking alone withour thoughts. Occasionally I would stop and stare at a tree or a bunker and could still see my dad playing. I hadn’t played a full 18 holes of golf in several months, but this round was special. I’ve played this course close to 100 times in my life and on this Father’s Day I played my best round ever. I almost matched my dad’s feat of a hole in one on Father’s Day as I missed one by about 2 feet. Probably the closet I’d ever come. Nope, no storybook ending here. It didn’t matter. I had a great day with my dad and I’m sure he would have given me a few pointers and word of advice. I could still feel his presence behind me reminding me to keep my head down, whistling at my good shots and chuckling at my lousy ones and shaking his head.
I came home to watch the US Open and the video clip above played. It is the story of a family that lost their father prematurely 10 years ago just a few months after their father (Payne Stewart) had one of his career highlights on Father’s Day. It was a sad but great Father’s Day story and tells of how his son still follows in his father’s steps. Myabe everything isn’t identical, but the purpose is similar. The 5 hour hike /walk/ golf round earlier had cleared my head but more than anything gave me peace of mind and although I didn’t match my Father’s hole-in one, I had a renewed energy about playing the course better than ever before.
In watching the US Open I rooted for Phil Mickelson, a man tormented by his wife’s pending breast cancer surgery. His co-survivor cancer story mirroring my own, I felt right there with him. On Monday, his charge ran short and he finished as a runner-up in the US Open for a record 5th time. The ending almost looked perfect, but he lost. Then I thought about it. The commentators kept using the words “storybook ending”. If he won the tournament it would have been a great accomplishment, but I don’t think it would have been storybook. He and his wife are facing surgery next week and I’m sure there are many more happier endings that they could think of right now.
As my day ended at work I got a phone call. It was my doctor. I knew it would come some day. Cholesterol lowering drugs. I’m in better shape than my father and live a healthier life, but its just my dad’s genetics and this is one legacy I did not want to follow. Let this be a lesson to all out there. I just reached 500 miles run so far this year. I ate steel cut oatmeal 5 days a week for the last 2 years. I have a low weight for my height, yet my genetics still drive a higher than normal cholesterol count.
Going back to baseball I just read the story of 1st baseman Joey Votto of the Cincinnati Reds who lost his father last August. Baseball was his connection to his father and suddenly without him there, he just couldn’t do it anymore. The man who played catch with him, coached him, and taught him how to respect and love the game was no longer there to enjoy it with him and he didn’t know how to do it alone. He said this past weekend he spent one last weekend in solitude with his father’s memory on Father’s Day but that he is now ready to resume.
Yes there were no storybook endings this weekend, just the real world. But that is okay, because as we all can see, the focus and dedication to follow our dreams and goals is what matters as long as that energy never dies. From Payne Stewart to Phil Mickelson to Joey Votto, we see examples of a relationship of a Father and son, a husband and wife, and the communication channel of a conversational sport where life’s lessons can be taught. Payne Stewart’s son Aaron has found a way to honor his dad, Phil Mickelson found a strength to show his wife how much he wants her to fight, and Joey Votto found a way to let his Father’s memory live under a different type of energy. These aren’t storybook endings but they are all nice stories in a chapter of a long book.
“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust, sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and again; because there is not EFFORT without error and shortcomings; but he who does actually strive to accomplish the deed, who knows great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who are the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those timid and uncaring souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt
1 More Degree of Effort Makes the Difference
Looking at the difference between 211 degrees (hot water) and 212 degrees (steam and power and effective energy), it motivates by urging us to keep going even when things are difficult. One of my favorite comedy routines by Jerry Seinfeld is the one where he talks about the difference between a gold and bronze medal in the 100 meter dash or the 50 meter freestyle. It’s that extra little effort. Some of it is training. Some of it is desire. Its just that little extra that pushes you over the top. One of my favorite books growing up was “The Little Engine that Could. You know the one “where he says “I think I can until he says “I Know I Can”. I was talking with my kids this morning as they watched a show on Earth and global warming (its amazing what they see these days compared to the Mr. Rogers and Electric Company shows I watched at their ages). They asked me about how it was going to affect them when they are my age. I sipped my coffee and tried to tell them to enjoy life but to respect the planet they live on. I didn’t want to alarm them. As I spoke they spoke about how an extra degree in temperature affects plant life, sea life, etc. It was pretty dramatic.
I tried to get them off the subject as I read the sports page. There was a great article about Phil Mickelson and how he is having to fight his emotions as well as to find peace in his life while being on stage at the US Open in NYC while his wife is back in California awaiting breast cancer surgery. It was only a year ago that I was at a conference in Boston waiting while my wife was also back in California awaiting what likely is the same surgery the Mickelson’s will be dealing with. While there is nothing they can do but wait, they have to try and live their lives as normally as they can for their kids and their sanity. In a way, going off to play in a golf tournament is probably a good lesson for their children abou how life goes on and to show them that you have to live before you paralyze yourself. Having lived that wait I can only imagine what they are going through as they don’t have the privacy that many people have. I can see Phil lining up a big putt only to see women in pink hats and pink ribbons following him in the gallery. I could never have done that at work! In the article, Phil Mickelson says that he is giving his EVERYTHING this week. I sure hope he just gives it that extra degree, and creates the feel good story of the year, but his odds are long and only because he is human. Here is the article: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/06/18/SPDP189376.DTL
Alas Phil’s story was delayed today because of rains in the East.
Speaking of Earth, heat and rain, I should probably finish and talk about Wind. Tonight I inched toward the 500 mile mark in runnning for the year. Today had been a sunny day but as it goes in San Francisco, the ocean breezes took their place and by the time I ran tonight, it was pretty blustery. I took off into the wind as I ran a mile and a half towards the ocean. The cool breeze felt good against my sunburn I picked up this weekend. Once I reached the beach I turned and went three miles halfway back across the City with a stiff breeze pushing at my back. They say the first and last miles are always the hardest parts of a run, but when I turned back into the ocean breezed for my final mile home, my pace picked up again.
I was interested to see my stats once I uploaded my run data from my Nike ipod. And there it was. My runs into the wind tonight were faster than my speed with the wind. It appears that with Wind resistence to fight, I found that I gave it that extra degree to knife through it. Maybe the path of least resistence isn’t the best one. We all need motivation. And sometimes a little hurdle or an obstacle can create the opportunity to focus and be the best we can be. When the wind was at my back, I was simply coasting.
Maybe that is the lesson for the day. Don’t avoid your obstacles and fears, but rather use them to propel you to new heights.
“Sometimes I’ll be driving alone and suddenly I’ll be crying” – Phil Mickelson, PGA Tour pro, when talking about his Wife’s Cancer
Amy Mickelson, wife of Phil Mickelson, disagnosed w/ Breast Cancer
Those words by Phil Mickelson this week reminded me of where I was almost a year ago. Trying to be strong for his wife, he finds himself alone, his emotions pour out. He and his wife are in that emotional purgatory as they wait for her surgery at the beginning of July and they remove the tumor. The waiting is just painful and getting back to golf for 4-5 days will definitely give him some normalcy again.
I look back on how we handled that waiting and remember how my wife and I just both worked up until the day before the surgery preparing ourselves for the long road ahead. It got our minds to remind us of what we have and what we needed to get back to. Our finish line was back to beinng normal and keeping our minds clear of the dangers thatwere ahead of us. It is like starting over. A new race. A new trip. A new beginning.
In Amby Burfoot’s (winner of the 1968 Boston Marathon) ” The Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life”, he talks about the beginning of every race. The nervousness of what lies ahead and not knowing”. I think that the more scary the possible outcome, the longer the race might seem. The thought of battling cancer is like running many marathons. It isn’t the distance but rather the time to cover that distance. Every run I run has those first miles where I ask myself what I am doing and how far I think I can go tonight. They are the hardest miles and take twice as long as the rest, but they are the most fulfilling, the most thought-provoking and the most calming. I suspect that Phil Mickelson will look back on these days as a husband and realize what is important to him and if those things were already important, it will ground him even more.
New beginnings are like that, both rewarding and frightening. because of fear, people tend to shy away. We hesistate or never take steps that they should. We procrastinate and worry about all the things that might go wrong. We get paralyzed and think of all the bad things and fail to possibly see the brighter lights. Every night I run I worry about my aching back, my sore feet, that little bump on the side of my hip, my controlled asthma and worry, but less than ever because each night I know a new lesson will come to light. Sometimes it is new or sometimes it is a reminder of lessons past.
It is like the many sayings. You have to pay to play. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Unless you understand your barriers and where you come from, the end line will never seem so long ago, and you will better respect and comprehend the distance you have covered. The same goes for finishing what you start. Many times we never look back if we don’t finish or give everything we’ve got. The hard work, the stamina, the focus and the will to succeed are never realized and respected unless we finish what we started.
It seems like a small lesson and one we should all know but we face it in our every day lives. Learning to finish things off is so hard to do if you don’t learn to do it from an early age. Teaching my kids is the same thing. Although right now it isn’t about fear or fear of failure, it is about focus, its about learning to complete things.
Each summer my parents used to have a plan to teach us things we were either going to learn in the coming year at school so that we could get ahead, or such things that you couldn’t teach in a classroom. Life lessons my dad would call them. Today I call it experiencial learning. If we were going to Mexico, my father would mark things around the house with Spanish words to teach us how to speak basic words. This summer our lesson for our children is about finishing. We have a list of things our children have started and now we are going to finish. We are also reading them stories and showing movies about completing your journey. Some of them are silly movies like “Field of Dreams”. Others are more inspirational like Chariots of Fire and the Rookie.
Speaking of finishing, and starting. I need to end this post and get started on my Sunday.
April is a promise that May is bound to keep. ~Hal Borland
The other day I received a nice thank your from the representatives of Phil & Amy Mickelson’s Foundation in response to my letter about dealing with breast cancer in a family with young children. It really did put a little spring in my step.
I was spurred to write that note to one of my favorite golfers when I read about the hard time that he was having dealing with the thought that his wife was suffering at home and he was in a sport where he was traveling away from his family. He was tormented and reacting on instinct. I just thought he needed to know about some of the resources available to husbands of breast cancer sufferers and I’m glad I reached out.
Phil is one of those husbands who give men a good name. When it comes to breast cancer, let’s face it, men just have a rotten name. It isn’t that they don’t deserve it. Some men have just not “done the right thing” by not being understanding, leaving their wives at a hard time, or just running from it al . And those few men have made it hard for men to be understood. The emotions flow and rage enters the picture. I totally understand and empathize with these women and also with their husbands at the same time. I guess that is because I know where both sides are coming from. These women think their husbands might be insensitive or not understanding, but there really is some “reasoning” for some of the behavior.
Recently I got into a discussion with some women online after a woman’s husband was insensitive. At first I read about it and thought, “here we go again, another man ruining the name of husband”. Then I said to myself…wait, I’m not much better. That could very well have been my own wife complaining about me.
Cancer is a tough ordeal. For a man who has to watch his wife suffer with breast cancer, there is no greater feeling of helplessness. We’re men. We like to fix things and there is nothing more that we want to fix is the broken pieces of the only woman in our lives that means more to us than our own mother. For me, the drains, the blood and the visits to the doctors (things I was not comfortable with) were just part of the healing process. Most men don’t want to talk about their fears and especially with their own wives who don’t need to hear from their husband about how scared they are when right now they might need a rock or a sounding board and not a whimpering husband. Heck, they’ve got cancer, not us! When we aren’t that rock or sounding board though, then we get that bad rep. Quite frankly I think my wife got tired of all that smothering. She didn’t want to be thought of as sick and my fawning all over her just reminded her of her illness.
The monthly doctor appointments are continuing shots and side effects of her cancer trial drugs have become a normal part of life that get acknowledged quickly before we go to bed at night.
“How did it go?”
“Okay, I only waited for 45 minutes. The shot was easier this time.”
“Great. Good night.’
It really has become casual in conversation because of her desire to ease my burden and not have my attention focused on her. Similarly I have to pay extra special attention to let her know that I do know she isn’t out of the woods. She needs to know that if she wants that attention, I will give it to her.
So back to the discussion, the husband was asked by a wife about what her thought of her recent construction. The husband was pretty dismissive and understandably the wife was a bit upset. At first I wanted to jump on that bandwagon of saying what a jerk the husband was. Now I love my wife and “not just her breasts”. They has always been an asset for her before cancer and she’s been always conscientious about their appearance, but I do find myself trying to remind her that I don’t mind her focusing on them health-wise, but it is heremotional well-being that I care about more. So in my case when asked about her scars and if the neckline on her dress is too low and her scars show, I do want to tell her she looks beautiful, but a woman knows her husband and what he feels just by looking in his eyes. She knows that I know they look and feel different. A woman after reconstruction knows that a husband might not look at her bare breasts the same way (better or worse in appearance), but I know for me it was her eyes, her mind, and other parts of her which remained untouched…or maybe untouched by human hands but they are still the same ones that were part of her when we got married. I will at some point look at her reconstruction as part of her and without hesitation.
Just like your scars, it takes time to heal and feel comfortable again for you to discuss them with your husband. Actually, while I don’t mind discussing with my wife about the cancer, I just don’t want her to focus on the appearance of her new breasts. I do want her to be happy with them, but I don’t want to obsess about them. My wife would rather me tell her how beautiful she looks in her new dress without prompting than to have a 20 minute discussion on if her scars are fading, if I see rippling, or other imperfections. I’ve had those discussions and while productive, the conversation did not seem natural (no pun intended).
The reconstruction part of cancer recovery really does belong in the domain of the woman. I didn’t want to look like one of those husbands who “shaped his wife’s looks”. In the end I took my wife “for better or for worse”. My wife chose her option and I am happy with it as long as she is happy with it. As I look at it, as husbands we have no choice in what your original breasts looked like, we have no choice in marrying women who were stricken with breast cancer, and we should not be a major contributor in deciding what your new body should look like. What we do have a choice in is being sensitive to our wife’s emotional feelings and we do have a choice to love them unconditionally.
I mentioned that human hands did not touch my wife’s eyes, mind and spirit, but they have changed through cancer too. She is more proud and confident of where she is because of what she has been through. I find her strength to be the biggest turn on. It makes her more beautiful than ever.
Last weekend was the unofficialbeginning of Summer with MemorialDay and we took that time for the whole family to clean the house and continue with our post-cancer journey. We threw out the old cancer information pamphlets, the left over get well cards, the sample drain pump and the tons of bedside reading material that was accumulated. We’re all moving on. We’re cleaning those cupboards. We’re fixing our lives and coming on stronger than ever.
More thoughts from 30,000 feet. Rare air makes you think. It makes you appreciate. It helps you to understand.
I write these thoughts from the air somewhere along the Pacific Coast after having spent a beautiful day in Los Angeles on business. The weather there is always debon “air” as Herb Caen once wrote I think. There was just enough of a breeze to keep the smog at bay. I always feel a bit younger when traveling down there on business maybe because I am hanging out in the hip area of LA in Hollywood. At the same time I find myself feeling quite antiquated for not recognizing the newest starlet as she just pranced by me in front of Le Petit Four…”that was LC, don’t you know?”. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
The past week has been the fun part of my job at a music conference where we talked about the ever changing landscape of the music industry and listened to fantastic music of yet to be discovered artists such as Meiko and Matt Morris (@mattmorrisfeed). I’m probably a relative novice in the world of music, but in terms of talking about the industry, its preservation, and its future, it is a great topic. Working in an industry that is in turmoil keeps your job interesting much like my regular life.
The future has been on my mind quite a bit. Why? Because I find it really great to be optimistic about things and the future is something you can dictate yourself. For example, my wife has been lamenting about not having been to Hawaii in a few years. So rather than worrying about it, we booked flights for 9 months from now to our favorite hotel. Sure lots will happen between now and then, but I sure can’t wait for Spring Break 2010. We aren’t even sure yet what we are doing this summer or this holiday season. The message though is that my wife was thinking about doing something fun and going to somplace that made her happy and I was more than happy to want to see that happen.
Its always been a great part of my relationship with my wife that I treasure. I like to dream and my wife likes to laugh at me as if I were the little kids who is telling her that when I grow up that I want to be “an astronaut and meet aliens” (that’s what I told my mother when I was 9). That was about 4 months before I met Farrah Fawcett’s manager and I decided that I wanted to grow up to be a manager of a beautiful starlet and earn 10% of everything she made. I know my wife thinks I’m nuts sometimes when I show her photos of beautiful places and say “we’re going there”.
My wife has always been that rock, that voice of reason. The one who tells me that we should think before we act and to wait a few days and think about it first. I’ve always been the one to do quick analytics and go with my gut instinct based upon those calculations. I believe that this battle with cancer has made her not only appreciate me more, but the attitude of not waiting. When I used to ask her thoughts, she used to say, “I don’t know” or “what does it matter?” as if these were just my musings for me and not for her. Now she realizes they are for all of us. My wife has been right to analyze things for sure, but I think when it comes to matters of the heart and mind, sometimes it is good to go with your instincts.
Most of all I think we are all beginning to learn how to live “with” cancer and not let cancer lead our lives. This morning I saw the article about golfer Phil Mickelson’s wife having breast cancer. My children saw it as well and while I thought to myself that it’s always interesting how nobody really seems to pay attention about it until a celebrity is afflicted : Christina Applegate, Lance Armstrong, Patrick Sayze, Steve Jobs, etc., my son looked at the article and said, “She’ll be okay, right? They have kids our ages. Sounds like what mom had. I guess Tiger is going to win a lot of money while Phil is out.” That statement hit me hard, not by the words, but by his casualness. First it showed me that my son hadn’t found the experience of the last 9 months to be all that traumatic, second that he seemed to think of cancer as something that yoursurvive and not something that kills, and last that he felt if a celebrity and their family had cancer, it must be something somewhat normal. I spent all day thinking about whether all of those outcomes were good. I don’t want my son to be terrified and I do want him to erealize this can hit anyone and I am happy that he wasn’t faced with the emotional issues.
My thoughts do go out to Phil and his wife Amy as well as all those who are suffering from breast cancer right now. I am happy to be exiting that long dark tunnel with my wife’s hand in mine and really look forward to seeing that daylight at the end. Sometimes that daylight still looks like 4 years away, but at least its bright and we have a lot of good hopes ahead.
We don’t understand life any better at forty than at twenty, but we know it and admit it. – Jules Renard
This weekend marked 8 months post-surgery for my wife. She has since had reconstruction, a follow up surgery, 6 months of shots,6 months of a test bisphosphonate, and Tamoxifen. She has finally started to take another drug to lessen the effects of her side-effects of the drugs. I really don’t know how she does it. All these distractions and she continues her duties as class parent, team mom, family glue, top chef, businesswoman, and loving wife. It’s all become par for the course. Just yesterday she sent me a text at work to tell me that she had another follow-up procedure scheduled for the end of the summer. It just seems like such a casual thing now for her to write me and say that she is going to have more surgery, but this is just a stage in our life, not a WAY of life. We are going to move past this chapter.
In truth as we’ve come to realize her skin-sparing mastectomy is still a relatively new thing in the world of breast cancer surgery. While it does save your skin and is less traumatic for the survivor than we ever imagined, there is still quite a bit different from the traditional “Hollywood boob job”. Skin-sparing mastectomy with immediate reconstruction has become popular with patients because, compared with delayed reconstruction, it improves the cosmetic result, reduces cost and anesthetic risk, and in one sitting completes most of the surgical treatment that the patient will ever require for treatment of her breast cancer. Provided that the breast skin is not involved with or close to the tumor, physicians prefer to perform the mastectomy with optional removal of the nipple-areolar complex (total skin sparing) and the tumor biopsy scar. The mastectomy is otherwise the same as a standard modified radical mastectomy with removal of all breast tissue and an axillary node dissection. The part that is difficult for most patients is that so much tissue is removed that the breast becomea basically a large water balloon that holds a big bag of silicone, saline or whatever. Because the skin is now so much thinner, it is hard to prevent wrinkling and rippling. With so little tissue left, the breast can look a little misshapen at times. That said, the results do look pretty good and like life small adjust ments will be needed. Yes, this is the procedure that you hear for celebrities like Christina Applegate.
I know many women don’t want to talk about this too publicly. I mean, how can you complain when you think about the alternatives? These women are so thankful yet feel so close to what they can see is the final visual end to their suffering. All of this though is a change. A change from what past generations had. Not only was life extended but the quality of that life has been improved.
It is with that frame of mind while sick the past couple of weeks it come to my mind that suddenly we were so accepting of all these new changes in our life. We’ve reached that mid point in our life. They talk about midlife and the word crisis is always used to describe it. I don’t think so. Sure we’ve come across some bumps in the road. I told my wife that rather than a mid-life crisis, this is half-time for us. In the world of sports, this is the time to make adjustments and a time to assess where we are, where we’ve come from and where we want to go.
Such is mid-life for us I guess. After taking 10 days off from running because of a nagging cold I found my rested body was now better suited to tackle my nightly runs again. I told my wife how my body was responding and she reminded me I’m not getting any younger although I may feel young. Either way, the rest gave me renewed energy and a new energy and perspective that allowed me to set new personal bests three days in a row. The 10 days of mental relief reminded me of how lucky we are and how blessed our life is. It isn’t about fate or faith, but about the sense of being.
We took our time to plan that second half, revise our targets and think about how we want to live our life. It is not about settling. It is about making choices and pursuing what we believe to be important to both of us. The one thing we agreed upon is that this is a shared goal and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
A mother’s happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories. ~Honoré de Balzac
This Morning's Flowers for Mom
Today is obviously a more special Mother’s Day than any other for me. Even though I am so happy that I get to celebrate Mother’s Day with my own mother, I am even more grateful that my children get to spend it this year with their mother and for many years to come. Although they probably didn’t the magnitude of how special it was and how we were staring straight into the possibility that this Mother’s Day could have been one without a mom or one with a bit more urgency than we had today, it was not lost on me.
As we got up at 6 am this morning to get breakfast and flowers while their mother slept in, it was nice to spend some time with the kids and ask them what they appreciated about their mother. Here is a lst from a 7 and a 9 year old in no particular order:
She’s a good cook
She smells nice
She drives us wherever we want to go
She plays games with us
She let’s us have play dates
She’s smart
She’s nice
She’s pretty
She let’s me paint my toenails (daughter)
She helps us with our homework
She kisses us and tucks us in for bed
They didn’t say it directly, but I knew what they were thinking. They said that it would be sad though for some schoolmates who did lose their mother to breast cancer this year. After they said that, there was silence in the car and when we got back home they each made an additional card for their mother before she woke up. The hugs around the breakfast table seemed more meaningful and sincere that the daily ones and for that I am so appreciative of the moments we still have together.
Last night we had a rare chance for one of our date nights. Dinner and a movie seems so simple but I can’t remember the last time we held hands all movie long. Dinner was filled with pleasant conversation especially over the relief that our son had played a decent baseball game. She had hugged our son, wished him good luck and accidentally told him to get some hits for mommy before his Little League game. As soon as she said that she looked at me with the horror of putting pressure on her son. Fortunately he came through and had a couple of hits on his best day ever in baseball. He was so excited to come home and tell his mother that he got two hits. The smile on his dirt covered face not only made her laugh but was a big relief. Some day he’ll probably tell us it was no big deal, but we were hoping he wouldn’t put any pressure on himself.
Tonight we’ll spend part of another Mother’s Day with my mother. Although the appreciation of still spending that extra time with her had somewhat dissipated each year beyond her battle with cancer, this year it has been renewed. Since my father’s passing she has visibly taken on much of his persona as well. She’s adopted his adventuresome attitude and more than anything become not just a loving mother that she already was, but a thoughtful icon for me and my siblings to come to in times when we aren’t quite sure about what is right or wrong and reminds us of what our father would want us to do. I can see in her latter years that she more than anything wants her children to spend more time together and makes a strong effort to make that happen on a daily basis.
Mother’s Day has become more than that Hallmark Holiday. It is also now a call to awareness to the plight of mothers and their battle with Breast Cancer. I am glad that even baseball has really taken the time to appreciate mothers and use Mother’s Day to bring awareness to Breast Cancer Research. Watching major league baseball players use pink bats and wear pink wristbands tells you that it isn’t just the days of playing catch between a father and son that forms the foundation of future baseball players but also those mothers who drive their sons and daughters from field to field three days a week.
While my wife and daughter celebrated with a spa day, I took my son to play 9 holes of golf and were paired up with a 30ish son and his dad. You never know why people are out at a golf course on Mother’s Day without their moms on Mother’s Day. The two men played in silence, but idle chit chat revelaed that they were native San Franciscans and were all aums of the same high school. As it turns out they had recently lost their mom/wife to breast cancer. It was a tough day for them and they were honoring her memory on this day. My son did not hear the conversation, but it really cast more light on the specialness of the day.
I smile as I look back at this entry because all I’d want for Father’s Day is a nice round of golf myself ….. At the same time, I want to say how much I appreciate all those moms out there for how much they do for their children whther they are 4 or 40. And for those who have lost their moms or have moms or relatives who are sick, please enjoy what you have and savor it.
