Sing us a song, you're the piano man, sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody and you've got us feeling alright...
Whenever I go into radiation, there's music playing. During my treatment, I get to listen to whatever is being piped through and earlier in the week it was Billy Joel's Piano Man. I'm not sure why I found it so funny, but I couldn't help but imagine the techs (who were monitoring me from behind their shielded wall of protection) all swaying and singing and "in the mood for a melody". Incidentally, this was somehow funnier than the day before that, where Pat Benatar challenged me to hit her with my best shot. Or maybe that was supposed to be me, imploring the radiation machine to hit me with its best shot. Tomato, tomato. Wait...when you type that out, it doesn't translate. Looks like I'm just saying "tomato, tomato" like that Little Caesar's pizza guy saying "Pizza pizza".
Well, here I am, offering you a melody, I suppose. Wrapped up my third week of chemotherapy and my first week of radiation. I no longer need a light on at night...I just hold up my glowing finger. Kidding. Maybe. This week was rougher than the others. For one, the weeks of chemo begin to compound; it begins to take more of a toll on the body. Whereas last week it was mostly Wednesday that was bad, and Tuesday and Thursday night that were "meh", this week it was Tuesday night through Thursday afternoon that were bad. Define bad, Joe. Unsettling nausea, vomiting, flu-like symptoms, and an all around general feeling of being dipped in a septic tank. Then add in the extra fatigue from radiation and you feel worn down, tired, unmotivated. It's a recipe for shittiness. This week, they're going to add something new to my pre-chemo medicine IV that is supposed to help more with that vomiting. Fingers crossed.
We had family come visit this week, which was nice. My mom and dad came up from Florida, and my three boys down from NJ. Jess's oldest and his girlfriend came down as well, along with Jess's youngest son, who drove out to see us. There were hugs and laughs and stories and lots of help. It was really wonderful. I had my limits, of course, and times when I had to just lay down, or curl up. My favorite place is in Jess's arms, or laying my head on her lap while I try and fight off the bad feelings wracking my body.
I saw these guys out front of the hotel all smoking cigarettes and I thought, if they had any idea what you had to experience, or how you felt going through chemo, they would not be smoking and risking lung cancer.
We met with the oncologist and he confirmed that my cancer is, indeed, stage 4. That was a punch in the gut to me, but Jess had already known/suspected that. She's too good at researching. Different cancers have different measures that set the stage. For esophageal cancer, the fact that it's in the lymph node is what makes it stage 4. But...and this is a big but...the doctors feel confident enough that the treatments can, and will, be effective to knock this son-of-a-bitch down. They repeatedly tell me that I have "being younger" on my side and that I am healthier. If they felt it was a moot point, they wouldn't be wasting their time, or mine. So, stage 4 or not, we're throwing the kitchen sink at this bastard. Damn Joe, bastard? Son-of-a-bitch? You fired up or what? You're damned right I'm fired up. I have to be. As the weeks try and grind me down I need to have some junkyard dog in me, some bite. I need grit and determination to persevere. As my friend, Joe DeSena (Spartan founder and CEO) likes to say, "Throw some black glitter on it."
Tomorrow, we head back to the routine. Living out of a hotel for the week, daily early morning radiation treatments and week four of chemo. But, to quote Mando (The Madalorian, Star Wars, if you don't know), "This is the way." And in order to beat this, yes...this is the way.
Thanks for all of your check-ins and messages and cards and kind thoughts. Thanks for reading. Thanks for caring. And thanks for being my friend. :)
Finally, I would encourage you to read and keep up with Jess's CaringBridge posts as she offers a different perspective and sheds different light on the situation: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/joemcgee13/journal