Writing and Blogger…it’s a difference
Over the years I’ve been doing this one thing has become very apparent. Becoming a writer and not just a blogger is a difficult transition. To have the discipline to dedicate hours, day in and day out will be something I need to adjust to if I plan on getting anywhere. Doing it without putting pressure on myself is also important as forced writing isn’t my style and won’t come off as real or raw like I intend it to always be. I want to thank everyone who read my last post and has inspired me to sit and write more often. Also, jotting thoughts down in my personal journal along the way. You’d think the fact I no longer work would give me plenty of time to commit to the goals I have set for myself. Like many of us though I think my procrastinating ways seem to be a roadblock. Like the poem stated days sometimes just disappear and nothing is accomplished. Or sometimes, and this may seem strange, I can spend hours debating with myself do I write? Work on my videos? Read? Exercise? Or try and polish up for some speaking events. Then before I know it, none of it gets done and I’m exhausted for seemingly no real reason? Except for the stress I’ve put on myself I slump on the couch and feel well… unfulfilled, is the only word I can seem to come up with. I’d say sprinkle in depressed, but I don’t think that’s the right feeling. Not one to fall back on when it’s just been a couple slow days. Although depression and cancer do run hand in hand.
A Quick Mental Health Check-In
Just to quickly add something to that topic. I know many of you who read this have probably suffered from bouts of depression. How can you not? Cancer has a way of taking down the strongest of us mentally and questioning, “What’s the point?” ” Why bother trying to accomplish anything meaningful?” As uplifting as this blog and my personality seem to be I often find myself asking those very questions. Then I go back to comments I’ve received either here or on other platforms. Understand that I can have a purpose still and help others. Pictures of my family also line my walls reminding me of the importance to always try to be present. While I lean on them for support also understanding my importance and guidance. Along with some lessons in perseverance is key to moving forward in this increasingly difficult life. While I write about this my thoughts wander back to June. When I wrote a post about my own struggles with mental health. It never really goes away. While I broke down out tripping I vlogged most of that battle. My struggle now is do I post that in order to help others having a difficult time. To show that I managed to get through it. Or, do I keep this to myself? I have tried I few times to watch it myself, it’s very difficult and although I’ve been very open here. Watching it actually happen is on another level, but could it help someone? At the same time letting people know although most times I appear healthy and happy this is what gets hidden away. It’s a tough choice.
Now I’ll get on with a little more of what I hope to get into this book and if not. Shit I shouldn’t even say that. When I move forward I’d like a good base started, hence why this blog is even more important now. As you read, remember not everything will be in order I will figure out the timelines later. This is more like stages as I remember them and what fits and doesn’t fit, small pieces at a time.
An Exhausting and Emotional Toll
After the disorienting walk back from the hospital, which was also very strange. Not a soul on the street, no cars passing by, people still unsure of what was going on and for the most part locked up in their homes due to the pandemic. It was definitely a stressful time for all and for someone newly diagnosed with an extremely rare cancer it felt magnified, yet numb at the same time. I took my time walking home that day, paperwork in hand. It was a sunny, but cool mid April day and I remember taking the time to let that warm sun soak into my face. Before returning home to where I felt I’d been prisoner for the last five weeks while I slowly recovered from my major surgery. My sons were at home, but locked away in their bedrooms talking over the computer like so many did during those two years.In turn losing so many social skills that came along with being amongst peers in those late teenage years.
I slowly ascended the stairs, still conscious of the staples holding my almost healed wound together. Looking at the phone my thoughts were of, “How do I explain this to people?” “I really don’t even know what it is?’ Although it’s supposed to significantly shorten my life, there is no clear way to describe it. I phoned Tracy, who was living in Stratford at the time and although times were tough, we never lost that caring bond we shared for one another. When she picked up on the other end for the first time tears rolled down my cheeks as I explained what the oncologist had told me. My life will be cut short and not only that the cancer upon review had spread widely. My liver, lung, mesentery and abdomen wall, oh along with some lymph nodes all showed signs of this disease. It was overwhelming to say the least and I wasn’t even sure if what I was saying made any sense. Like an out of body experience I felt while talking on that phone that wasn’t me, it felt like I was looking down at someone else.
Within an hour and a half Tracy was in Brantford, by my side and trying her best to understand what had just happened. The fact that the person she spend over twenty years with and the father of her two sons, had just gotten his life turned upside down. A complete 180 in a couple of hours and knowing it would never be the same. It almost made less sense for the fact of all those yeas together we could probably count on one hand the amount of times I required medical treatment. I can’t recall the exact conversation that went on, as I felt everything around me spinning out of control. I was by nature a private guy at times seemingly emotionless keeping all my thoughts and fears to myself, not one to share. This was very different and our talk, after a lot of tears and worries turned to how do I know let the rest of my family know what was happening.
First and toughest was telling my boys. To be honest I have gaps in my memories that day and when first speaking to my sons I don’t recall what was said. When I eventually sit down to write about my story I will ask my son’s what was said, along with Tracy. The word I would use to describe these times is confusion. Them not being able to process what had happened to their seemingly healthy Father and a type of cancer that I really didn’t know how to explain. The only example my oncologist at the time gave me was Steve Jobs, I believe many with this disease would have heard this as well. This is not the way I wanted to present it to the boys and I’m glad I didn’t as that explanation would have been very wrong. He did have the same cancer, but a different primary and went about treating it using unproven methods. Showing that all the money in the world doesn’t matter if you don’t listen or first attempt proven methods how to deal with this disease. My doctor has since acknowledge that using Jobs was not the best case. In his defense though, he honestly didn’t have much information to on himself and we have since come a long way.
We spent some time with some family hugs and assurances that “Dad” isn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. I can’t begin to imagine what would have gone through their minds. My oldest son more like me when it comes to emotions, for the most part stone faced and wanting to show his strength regardless how he feels inside. The youngest much more open and visibly upset. Yet understanding there is a long war to be waged against a silent disease that seemingly had been destroying an otherwise healthy looking body for many years.
It was now time to pause, taking a breath and call upon deep inner strength as I had many phone calls to make. I have a big family full of basically two families to be honest, parents and six brothers. It was almost already late afternoon and what to follow would take hours to finish. Friends who were like brothers also needed to know. We picked up the phone and dialled the first number, the phone started to ring. I hung up real quick, not sure I could do this. Tracy reassured me I could and they needed to know. With that I started again, the other end pick up “Hello?”, my response, “I’ve got some bad news to tell you , no way to make this easy, I’ve got cancer, stage IV and it’s extremely rare.”
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Cancer Won't Run My Life 