Family is Everything!

This past Monday like most families in Canada, we celebrated Family Day. We were lucky enough to have all five of us home and off for the day. As well, Sophie was able to be with us, as it coincided with university reading week. This meant the Erdmann clan were all back together, even for a short while, under one roof again. 

This year, Family Day was a gloriously sunny winter day. Michelle, Sophie and I took advantage of the great weather and decided to go on a long walk to get some fresh air and to get in some exercise. Enough with hibernation!  We were tired of being cooped up due to the recent cold temperatures and decided to take advantage of the sunny day. We got in over 20,000 steps that day! I guess the lure of a warm Starbucks at the half way point of our walk, did the trick in keeping us motivated to keep walking. Unfortunately the Starbuck motivation did not entice Jonathan and Joshua to join us, preferring to sleep in!

"No family is perfect.... We argue, we fight. We even stop talking to each other at times. But in the end, family is family... The love will always be there!" ~ Author Unknown.

All families are unique. I don't know about your family but sometimes we struggle to get all five of us on the same page at the same time (this is often true when we are trying to select a restaurant to visit for dinner). We are five adults, living together with our own opinions and viewpoints, which don't always match.  We seem to have the unique ability to know exactly how to irritate one another and at the same time be able to say something that will bring us to tears of laughter.  Like the quote above states, we even stop talking to each other at times, but in the end we seem to find a way to forgive each other and move on. We do love each other so much, the love will always be there.

                      

At the moment, our family remains Stuck in Neutral.  It may be the time of year (the winter blahs) but I feel that it is more than that. We are all struggling with what the future holds. Our family seems to be staying strong and crumbling at the same time. 

Each of us are dealing with this cancer battle in our own way. From denial, to avoidance, to struggling to maintain a work focus, to moments of melancholy, back to resilience and hope. All of us have emotions that are on a wild rollercoaster ride. 

I wish my family didn't have this burden on their shoulders. Why do they have to deal with this? It doesn't seem fair. We try to put on a brave face but behind the scenes it can be difficult. We know the facts of my cancer. We know that all of these treatments and therapies are to extend my life, not cure it. 

Michelle and I have been honest with our children. We have told them the truth, right from the beginning, even though it was very difficult. They had a right to know. The truth is I have stage 4, inoperable, esophageal cancer. I am in palliative care. The uncertainty and the unknown of how much time is left can be stifling. We try to keep reminding ourselves that none of us really knows how much time we have left. There is alway hope, even when hope seems impossible. Staying positive is our only option.

Life is not always fair. Many families, like ours are dealing with or have dealt with this terrible disease. It seems that every time I turn on the t.v., read an online article or speak with someone, they have a cancer story to share. 

I can't imagine dealing with this disease without my family. I love them all so dearly. Our daily interactions may not always show it, but each of them gives me the strength and inspiration to continue to fight on! Really, we have no choice but to deal with this. I'm glad and thankful that I have my family by my side throughout this battle.

I'm going to be selfish here and say I want as much time as possible with them, even if we are not always 'the perfect family', we are a family that cares deeply for each other. Being perfect is overrated anyway!

My family is everything.

Richard

P.S. Yesterday, after 13 years, we lost an important member of our family. We had to say goodbye to our beloved dog, Darcy. I wrote about Darcy in my post Darcy- My Faithful Companion. We miss him deeply!  

 

Spring Cleaning- Got Junk?

Michelle and I have lived at our current home in Newmarket for almost 20 years now. We moved into our home in early December 2000.  It has been our sanctuary and haven ever since.

When we moved in, Jonathan, Joshua and Sophia were six, four and one years old respectfully. Michelle and I were, during the late 90's, perpetually  sleep deprived. (I think I may have mentioned that in a previous post). This made for an interesting move in.

My dear mother had passed away that year, and we still had many of her personal items from her home, still unopened in boxes & bins in our garage and basement at the old house. On moving day, we simply placed all of her items, along with a wide selection of our current 'not used' items, into our new basement on moving day. We told ourselves that we would have the time to unpack and organize them later. These boxes and bins are still there, unopened 20 years later. A word of advice - do not delay, do it when you move in, lol.

Over the years we have also found it very difficult to part with items that we have purchased or received. We have changed our decor, purchased newer versions of items or simply indulged in some special gadget or gizzmo and instead of giving or throwing away the older version, we simply placed them in the basement for safe keeping (because you never know, we may decide that you may need them at a later date, right?) or there was always that elusive garage sale we were going to have.  Wrong! 

Over the next 20 years our basement has slowly filled up. If you walked into our basement this very week, you would swear that Michelle and I are hoarders. 

Our basement represents a time capsule of our lives. We have boxes, bins and bags full of days gone by. Full of memories.

Believe it or not, we still have all of the baby furniture and baby toys from our three children there. We have all of the fad toys and gadgets that were 'must haves' packed away on shelves: beanie babies, hockey cards, lego, train sets, hockey equipment,  medieval knights, and a collection of dolls and build a bear accessories (Coco is the best dressed bear in town), such as you would not believe. We thought that perhaps we could pass them down to our children's children some day. We even have boxes of our old university text books from the eighties (just in case we may need to reference them at some point. Really! Why didn't we give them away or throw them away years ago)? Michelle keeps reminding me that we kept them because we were going to turn one of our rooms into a library with a rolling library ladder - her dream. It's still a dream 20 years later!

One of my goals in retirement was to finally tackle the basement. I had planned to 'get it done' over the summer. It was on my 'to do' summer list. It finally needed to be done and there were no more excuses about not having the time to do it. I was no longer on vacation this summer, I was retired now. No more excuses. My cancer diagnosis and subsequent tests and therapies derailed these plans.

Now that my treatments have been completed and I am fairly symptom free, tackling the basement has once again risen the top of the pile of things to do. This is the week that our basement finally gets tackled (or at least started)!

A lifetime of memories currently lives in our basement. Going through these boxes, bags and bins this week is taking much longer than anticipated. Each time you open a new box, you are transformed to a different time and place in our lives. These are memory boxes and bins. The collection represents us and our family. This is making this job very difficult and time consuming, especially at this difficult time in our lives. These memories are so important right now.

When you are diagnosed with cancer, you immediately think the worse. In my case, the worse is my new reality. Still, I have been given the gift of time. My treatments have gone well and they have provided me with more time then my doctors had expected.   

Cleaning the basement (or our trip down memory lane) has been both heartwarming and tragic at the same time. What memories, still to come, will I miss or not be a part of?  But at least right now I can make choices on how to spend my time and with a sense of urgency, make things happen.

As a family and as a couple, we are trying our best to make as many new memories as possible. These memories however, will not be stored in our basement but in our hearts.

Here's to making new memories and to finally tackling your own basements! Do it, do it now but be prepared to go down your own memory lane.

Richard 

My "Bottle Buddy"

Written on Tuesday, January 21st, 2020.

As I sit here at the cancer centre, for my 6th and final chemo treatment (at least for now), I can’t help but think about my cancer journey. I wrote about my chemo treatments in a previous post: My Chemo 101.  My six, three week cycles of chemo, will be coming to an end on Sunday. Funny how it seems to have gone by so quickly yet so slowly at the same time. After today’s chemo infusions, the five day countdown clock begins as they put on my portable chemo aka known as my "bottle buddy"! After that, I am free for the foreseeable future! 

Immediately after my chemo infusions at the cancer centre, they attach my portable chemo bottle to my PICC line to take home. This bottle contains a  drug which is delivered slowly over the next five day period. It is the third drug in my chemo "cocktail", each having a specific action to kill any rapidly growing cells in my body.

My "bottle buddy" follows me around 24/7 for the next 5 days. It joins me for my morning shower or bath. It travels with me wherever I go throughout the week. It has attended a Maple Leafs game, a Toronto Rock game and numerous restaurants (thank goodness) over the past few months lol! I wonder where we will venture in our final week together? I try to hide it under a sweater, hoodie or jacket. It does create a noticeable bulge and can easily become an unwanted conversation starter (though I would rather not talk about it).  

My "bottle buddy" is a constant and visible reminder of my cancer. It is difficult to ignore even if you try. It feels like I am carrying a mini water canteen with me. It moves around a lot, wiggles and flips/flops side to side as I move.  The plastic tubes get tangled in the holding pouch or long sleeve shirts I wear to disguise it. I must admit that it can get annoying. I try to forget that I am wearing it, with limited success. So as the saying goes, "short term pain for long term gain", right?

It even comes with me to bed each night. My "bottle buddy" has even driven a wedge in my marriage! It comes between Michelle and I in bed! It has its own designated pillow (to keep the bottle vertical during the night). I often wake up during the night to find my bottle has fallen horizontally or the attached tube is across my face. I correct it and try to get back to sleep. This happens a few times a night. Broken sleep reminds me of our baby days. Sometimes I forget that I'm wearing it when taking a late night bathroom run, it quickly reminds me, flopping around. Luckily it has not detached. That would not be good. 

I have mixed emotions about my bottle buddy! I know that it is there to help me. It provides me with my much needed chemo medication and protection. I understand that.  This is an important part of my treatment plan. At my pre chemo appointment yesterday, my oncologist indicated that my cancer has stabilized, but not gone. We choose to take this as a positive sign. Our plan is to "beat the average", and overall I feel pretty good.

I need to thank the anonymous volunteer that hand knitted my portable bottle buddy holder. At the cancer centre you can find hand knitted chemo bottle holders and a variety of knitted hats for those patients that have lost their hair. This is a small but amazing gesture for cancer patients.  If you are an avid knitter,  please consider knitting and donating some of these items to your local cancer centre. I am sure that they would appreciate it. It does make a difference in the lives of cancer patients.

As this is my last chemo treatment (for now), my PICC line will be removed later this week and this will be the last I will see of my bottle buddy. 

A bitter sweet goodbye. Thanks for your efforts in my cancer fight.

Farewell bottle buddy!

Richard

Cancer touches so many of us!

One thing I have learned from starting this blog is that cancer touches most of us in so many different ways.  I have had many people share with me their personal cancer journey (some of which have kept it private from others). I have also been told stories of family member or close friends who are currently going through cancer treatment, are cancer survivors, or who lost their battle with cancer. Each story was unique but all had a common theme of struggle, support and love.

Some of the stories are inspiring and hopeful while others remind us that cancer doesn't always have a happy ending.  Even if you are not personally going through cancer yourself, most of us have witnessed or have been a part of someone else's journey. Cancer touches our heart and soul and provides us with examples of both triumph and tragedy. 

I choose to focus my blog posts on the positives rather than the negatives, while at the same time exposing the real emotional tug of war that plays out in your head and heart. This doesn't mean that I don't have moments of defeat, worry, anxiety and even depression. I do.  I try to quickly pull myself out of these negative thoughts, as they are not helpful. There is no need to have an ongoing pity party! I've had the pity party, I've tucked it away, and try to move on.  To me, pity parties are destructive and lead you down a spiral of self pity and "why me" moments. 

These emotional moments are not exclusive to me as I can see first hand the impact of my cancer treatments and prognosis on my wife and family. I think it is important to acknowledge and support those around the cancer patient.  Although they are not experiencing the physical symptoms of the disease, they are definitely dealing with the emotional aspects just as much as I am, or perhaps even more so. Each member of my family are dealing with this journey in their own personal way. 

If I could have one wish, it would be that I could shelter my wife and family from this disease and all of its impact on our daily lives. I wish that I could take away all of the worry, uncertainty and heartache.  This I know is not possible. What is possible is to stay positive, be thankful for what we have, to continue with as much normalcy as possible and to cherish each day that we have together.

My family is my everything,

Richard