Hospitals fix you, Home heals you.

It’s been 9 years today.  I knew going into surgery that morning that I had colon cancer.  I didn’t know the extent and it turned out worse than I expected.  You can read all the details, including descriptions that probably should be skipped on this site. 

So today, I felt it appropriate to add another chapter to this blog that I started because I couldn’t call or speak with everybody to thank them personally. I’m fairly sure nobody reads except Lori and she is already tired of my crap. (Colon Cancer joke) and won’t get past the next paragraph. So, this is mainly for me to review in another 9 years.

The first question everybody asks is: How do you feel?  I feel good…mostly.  The remaining effects of that year are the neuropathies in my feet and hands.  I’ve learned to live with them, but some days they can get to be overwhelming, and I must take a minute to convince myself and my feet that everything is fine. That I am NOT standing in a bucket of cold water while they wake with stabs from an imaginary icepick.  The meds I take mute some of that, but not always.  It doesn’t matter most days; I am grateful.  The cure is worse than the disease, as I have verified with so many other survivors. However, complaining about the cure is far better than having no cure.

My last colonoscopy was in January 2023, and I am happy to report that I have a very healthy colon.

In case you are just joining back into this blog after all these years, I’ll do a little health update: 3 years after cancer, I was diagnosed with a tumor in my spine. Located on the opposite side of my body from the surgery spots for all the other procedures. WOW! That was painful. Everybody was very concerned that the tumor was a cell that had escaped the chemo bath and hid in my spinal canal.  Nope, just some weird tumor about the size of your thumb … not my XXL thumb.  Removed it, determined it was not malignant and everything worked again, pain-free. Over the past 6 months, I had partial replacement of both knees. The left one was 7 weeks ago. I have the scars and the aches that prove I have been in a battle, but I’m happy. In 2018 our goal was No Surgeries.  That is our goal for 2024.

To summarize the answer to how I feel: Pretty good and mostly healthy.

-         After 30+ years of sitting on the sidelines, I started skiing again and my goal is to be back on the mountain this December after taking this season off.

-         Lori and I bought a couple of acres up in the forest. Few neighbors and lots of chores. Chickens, Goats, Cats, Dogs, birds … everybody has a job on the farm and Lori manages us all.

-         We still have great tailgates for Beaver football games.

-         Enjoy Friday night on the deck next to the creek and … chores.

-         I stopped coaching football 5 years ago. 

-         Note to self: More hobbies

I’m an Old Pa to Ella and Wren, Brooke and Mike’s 2 children.  She is where she is supposed to be: In Bend as a Nurse after graduating from Walla Walla.  Connor finished his Electrical Engineering degree from Oregon State University and lives in Eugene. He’s been working on a game and hopes to have it finished some day black shades (blackshadesgames.com) Elizabeth is finishing her Construction Engineering degree at Oregon State and recently said yes to Ben. Probably be in June 2024. Lori took a job with Oregon State University about 4 years ago in the College of Agriculture. Loves working on campus.  Me?  I’m plugging away at 10D Tech. www.10dtech.com

Cancer was hard to beat, and I beat it because of the people and the prayers. Hospitals (doctors and meds) are for fixing you. Home is where you heal. God directs it all. I will slowly repay what was given to me, see the list in previous posts, but that debt is huge (not talking financially). So many people did so many acts of kindness and support that I am constantly looking for ways to give back…. But the greatest gift was the constant prayers that were given on my behalf. I know of no greater gift I can give to you except prayer.

 I’m in a rare percentage of survivors and I am so grateful. My life is very full, and I can’t imagine anything better than being able to pray for you.  How can I pray for you?