Eric with a C

People often talk about the "battle with cancer" whether it be winning or a loss but I feel like that terminology is a bit misleading. The fight against cancer is war. You do have battles within it of course, but it can come back and attack you in the same way or potentially come at you in a totally different location or category. The fight against cancer, for those that have just completed a "successful" battle is pretty much like the Korean War. There were sacrifices on both sides, what could be done was done, lines were drawn, and there is an uneasy ceasefire. You hope it stays that way and dissipates but every now and then you might get a skirmish (what's that mole?, what's causing those aches and pains?) that usually turns out to be nothing. Still, there's always that possibility one side might launch a full offensive. And now that I've got that thought out of the way, here's something just a little different. So what does a check-up...

Over the past couple months I've been thinking a bit about my cancer experience. Although I'm getting very comfortable with my new normal, to the point I almost feel like my 5 fingered right hand is the odd one out, there are times that I'm reminded that my left is not complete. It's kind of a joke at this point, a fun party trick of sorts. With that said, I'm starting to pull back from that mentality to some extent and it's for two main reasons. First, there is always the chance that my battle isn't completely over. The same sort of thing could pop up again but for all I know a whole other kind of cancer could strike. It should be unlikely but of course I've considered the possibility of relapse. It's not something I like to dwell on of course, it's nice that recovery from the amputation is pretty much done and I really wouldn't mind not having to go through that again, survivable as it may be. The second reason for pulling back a lit...

This was me at my last checkup and the diagnosis was clean. What's it going to be this time? So I got my results from yesterday's tests and they called me a fatty... sort of. The ultrasound revealed some "fatty lymph nodes" that are *not* metastatic. The chest and hand x-rays came back clean as well so... drum roll please... Eric without a C it remains! Brea & I waiting for Dr Lewis to give me the once over and proclaim my status. Same hand, just a different day. Kinda looks like a record in the left side ther doesn't it? I got the music in me baby. This kinda looks like an alien face winking at  me... creepy. ultrasound...

Welcome yet again to another episode of Do I Have Cancer! Today we'll be testing to find out whether "Eric with a C " is actually still Eric without the C." On the docket are the standard hand and chest x-rays, blood work, and an ultrasound of my lymph nodes, exciting stuff! If guessed correctly, contestants win.... absolutely nothing but the satisfaction of having guessed correctly. What a crappy game show. Still, it's fun to be regularly scanned and studied although not as much as folks on dialysis or business travelers that fly wearing turbans. I do not envy them. On a much happier note, some relatives of mine who were also affected with cancer got featured in an interview with the Anchorage Daily News up in Alaska. I didn't even know they were up there but Alaska is a pretty cool place from what I hear, no pun intended. "From Virginia Garner's pay-it-forward perspective, clinical research saved her life, which made it her duty -- her ...

I'm not sure why but I just got the inspiration to do this. Just call me David Eric Letterman. #1 I got "The Cancer Card" Having lost my man card on weekly basis, never having been given a race card, and having found normal decks of cards largely useless to me, the cancer card was a wonderful gift to keep in my pocket for emergency situations.  #2 Chicks dig scars Yup, thanks to cancer, I got a pretty wicked one right on my hand. I'm pretty sure my wife now loves me at least 238% more than she did before I got it so I count that as a win. A good portion of cancers seem to require some sort of surgery which means, to some extent, you're getting a sweet fleshy souvenir for your troubles. #3 Association with fighting Who doesn't like sounding tough? Cancer is a cruel mistress and you do have to fight it and makes you, yup, a fighter! How cool is that? Very. #4 Association with surviving Surviving is equally as cool because you freakin' survived ...

...or at least heavily subsidized it. Don't get me wrong, I still think cancer is still a heck of a jerk, but at least it seems to be trying to make amends. A week or so ago, my friend/neighbor/fellow cancer survivor and thrive-er Roger and I went to a Live Strong focus group that was aimed at finding out what the needs of the young adult cancer community are. As a thank-you for our time, we got a gift card. Now, thanks to that thank-you, I'm the proud owner of a combination tuner/metronome which will help out especially with all the non-free-jazz I'm playing these days. Upon second thought, it wasn't actually cancer that gave me that tool it was the nice folks at the University of Texas and LiveStrong . Stupid cancer... I suppose if I wanted to get philosophical about this it would be possible... Getting cancer acted as a sort of indicator of mortality and set an updated rhythm for my life. It hurried up the pace of things in it's own way. I now have sche...

This is definitely coming a bit late in the game but I just found and read my operative report. Basically it is what it sounds like. It describes the patient, the reason for the operation, how they did the surgery, and what the results of it were. I have Roger to thank (yet again) for letting me know about that reports probable existence and I just found and read it. It's pretty cool to get the details of my procedure, even though my understanding of the terminology is not quite there. It really does get quite dense, and I'm not implying stupidity. Here's an excerpt... Dissection now revealed the remaining attachments between the volar plate, the deep intervolar plate, the transverse metacarpal ligament and perosseous bands of the palmar fascia and proximal portion of the flexor tendon sheath. These attachments were then divided sharply and the amputated specimen was removed. Ok, maybe it's just the terminology that make's it fly a little over my head but ...