Good Days & Bad Days

One of the most consistent pieces of advice from cancer survivors and their families is that you will have good days and bad days. When you hear something over and over again from people you know and trust, then you tend to believe it. When I was in New Mexico speaking, four students in different conversations, asked me if I had seen the White Sands. I was thinking, "I'm originally from California, I have been to Hawaii and Long Island...I've seen white sand." But after the fourth student asked, I 'allowed' my host student to take me out there from Las Cruces.

It was stunning. So spiritual. White Sands indeed, but not hot to the touch despite the New Mexico sun. I took off my sandals and put my feet in the cool sand. The beautiful mountains to the West, as white as the sands of Whitehaven Beach on Whitsunday Island in Australia, I removed my shirt. My student host said, "Dr. Keim, are you going to remove any more clothing?" As a public service I generally keep my clothes on and answered, "No." New Mexico is the Land of Enchantment, and I remember my visits with the Henry and Glenda Villegas to Chimayo, the Immaculate Staircase, Old Mesilla, and Sante Fe with great reverence.

"You will have good days and bad days." Dr. Peter Hudson began the process with a Laparoscopic Small Bowel Resection and the removal of two skin lesions on my back on Monday. As mentioned before, he is the Father of one of my daughter Christa's best friends, Karen. A brilliant man and a great doctor. He is a 'just the facts' kind of guy and doesn't candy coat anything. I have a ton of respect for him. He had said he might get in, find a thousand sources of cancer, and close. He estimated the time of surgery to be around an hour. We began about 10 a.m. and he spent the next four and a half hours removing nine growths from my stomach area. Obviously this changed his day and mine. While recovering in the hospital, he arranged an MRI of my head. It was a painful recovery with interesting roommates and their families. I am sure the I'm no picnic either.

The second night, the sixth in the last 10 days I had spent in a hospital, I had what I can only describe as a panic attack. I'm the hand holder, not the holdee. I visit, I am not the visitor. All of you had said, "This is your time to receive.", but I was restless, could not sleep, and hatched wild escape plans in my head. Fortunately, Donna sense my panic and literally slept in a chair in the corner of the room. I honestly don't know what I would have done if she would have left. The pain was manageable, but the sense of being held hostage was overwhelming. I don't like me when I play victim even in my head by myself. The was the not so good bad part of the day. And by the way, if you have had an MRI of your head, my heart and respect go out to you. I thought of my dear friend Coach Don Patterson and his courage to face radiation every day for six weeks.

Dr. Hudson came to the hospital yesterday and cleared me to leave. As the veterans of hospital stays know, for cancer or anything else, that just begins the lengthy process of getting home. As he was examining the four scars on my belly and talking about how pleased he was with the surgery he said, 'Oh, by the way, your MRI was clear." One of the great deadpan lines I have every received. "Oh, by the way..." There was an audible gasp in the room from the children. It doesn't mean melanoma won't try to get there, but it ain't there now. Praise God. Some good news. I wish you knew his daughter and Dr. Hudson, because this would be even more funny, but he followed the MRI understated announcement with something like, "There is a piece of your brain missing, which has explained a lot to those of us who know you." Wow! He smiled the smile of a truly smart person who has scored a humorous remark with someone who tries to make them all the time.

I got home, among my family, pets, Grandma, and thought, "This is one of the good times." Cancer is instructive, and when you are on a full liquid diet, yogurt is amazing, ice cream a primordial experience, and your own pillow a place of royalty upon which to lay your head. My next appointments are to see Dr. Hudson on Tuesday, Dr. Taylor and Dr. Vetto at Oregon Health Sciences University in Portland on Wednesday and Thursday, and then a PET Scan, (of me, not Callie) on Friday next week. In between, just wonderful rest filled time with the simple realization that its the little things of being free that are so beautiful and that we take for granted until something happens to take them away. I always thought I appreciated my life, my friends, my family, my faith, and lived in the moment. Now each tiny event is seen the way a child sees a butterfly, a firefly, or a hummingbird. With amazement and thanks, grace and gratitude.

There are good days & bad days. Most of the time we get to choose which of these monikers we put on our days. I wish I was a good enough teacher to teach you how precious you are, how amazing this day you are living in is, and to take time to see each tiny thing as a miracle. While I heal, that's what I am trying to figure out how to do. Look around today in your life. It will astound you. I don't want you to have to get cancer to be able to see what I am seeing. You are smarter than me!

Blessings, and love!