Eric with a C

I've let the actual date I'm calling my "fingerversary" fly by a couple weeks ago but it has now been over a year since I became 1 guy with 7 fingers and 2 thumbs. So far the cancer last described as "Sarcoma: Favor low-grade" has remained absent and I am very grateful. Brea & I were actually at White Sands National Monument on the actual fingerversary and it was amazing. I overdosed on photography but what can you really expect at such a stunning venue? The other fingers are doing just fine, thanks for asking! They still talk about the missing Mr Middle but have become rather adept at getting on with daily life since his untimely demise. Halloween had them on edge a little bit as a prime haunting time but the only ghost sighting was the white plaster cast of my hand from before the surgery. Plans to carve a carrot and dress it to where it looked like a dangling, mostly severed Mr Middle never panned out which is probably just as well as ther

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

Progress! When you're riding a bike using no hands, missing a finger doesn't matter. The newest conquest in the world of amputation recovery is actually riding a mountain bike on an actual mountain bike trail! Sure I'd jumped on a bike or two within the past couple months but it was only for little test rides and only on pavement. This of course excludes the incident that occurred after I'd changed the inner tubes on Brea's bike, forgot to re-engage the brakes, took it for a quick sprint down my street, realized I couldn't brake, and then wove back and forth up hill and on some grass to slow down and stop. We're excluding that. No, this time my neighbor, friend, and biking enthusiast Joe let me join him and some other friends at a trail I'd never been to before. After realizing after the fact that my tires needed inflation and my chain desperately needed some lube and stretching, the bike was set, but was I? Heading out on the trail one sensation

Hey all! So far it seems like the treatment of removing the finger entirely did the trick! The most recent battery of tests came back clear so needless to say, that's good news! My problem of saying things that should go without saying, however, continues. I suppose you can't win 'em all. Anyhow, things are going well with the recuperation. Strength is still returning to the hand and it's not quite as much a struggle to hold things like drum sticks tightly and securely. I have, in returning to and diving more deeply into normal activities, had a bevy of new phantom sensations that make life interesting from time to time. The odd sensation of heat, itching, and sometimes some minor pain have made debuts to a lukewarm reception, much like 65% of movie releases these days. My personal favorite was the burning sensation that came up while holding a hot plate with a potholder. My hand was totally protected but somehow the phantom finger got the idea it may have been burne

My two cents are on the ground at McDonalds; the one at Austin's infamous "Y." Why? Because there's a gap in between my fingers on my left hand that just doesn't close tightly. While this is the first actual incident of this sort, it was anticipated. It will probably happen again too. It's the sort of thing that just does and unless I move back to a country where the driver is on the right side of the car, my left hand will, more often than not, be what is reaching out of the car at drive-through windows for change, ketchup, sugar, etc. Coins are sure to be falling for years to come, I just hope it doesn't exceed two cents an occurrence. Those two cents are still lying on the ground at that drive through as far as I know. I used to collect pennies because they were usually what a kid could find on the ground and unclaimed. Now they apparently cost more to make than they're actually worth as currency. Don't get any ideas about selling

Interesting factoid, for those who are curious, one can swim straight with two disproportionately sized hands. I'm not sure about the physics of the matter, perhaps I was able to auto-correct like an airplane down one engine, but I was able to swim freestyle yesterday afternoon and even stay in my half of the lane. Yesterday marked the first major attempt at proper normal exercise since the whirlwind of the surgery and recovery. Sure I'd been able to play the drum kit and hand percussion, help move and carry things, and hike in to a campsite with loads of firewood and equipment, but nothing like trying to swim straight laps. It's a good thing to be sure since I was feeling pretty out of shape by my standards. It doesn't help to be out of sync with normal athletic activities and turn 30 all in the same period. But this is promising, I was actually concerned about my ability to swim and it now appears my primary hindrance is stamina and cardiovascular conditioning as op

Well that was fun... Thursday turned out to be my last day of occupational therapy. Macy said I was looking great and set me loose to continue the recovery without her professional services. I suppose it was time. It's been fun getting challenged in that environment so I'll actually miss it but it does take a chunk of time and money to go, even with insurance. Instead, it's time to further explore my new normal on my own. Speaking of that... This Sunday, which is fast approaching, will see another first in this post amputation world. I get to play hand percussion on a cajon (wooden box with a snare inside that you sit on and play). Practice went well and it feels pretty good although I have some soreness in that left wrist at the moment. That could be due to any number of things but I suppose slamming it repeatedly onto a wooden box would be a smart first suspect. As with many musical instruments though, you have to develop or re-develop callouses or tolerance. It is ver

Well it's been weeks since I posted because life has been getting back to normal and I suppose that is a good thing. I've been drumming, been painting, been photographing... Shoot, I've even been washing dishes and doing laundry again. I was getting tired of having to take Axe (body spray) baths to keep my clothes from making it seem like I was also not showering. Yes, that was a joke... :) Amidst the healing and rehabilitation, which I'll get back to in just a minute, I've been able to explore more thoroughly this new reality I'm living. In that process some things have presented themselves as goals to strive towards, like building grip strength, and other things that might be the first real disability I've been able to identify. It was probably first a blip on the radar while in the shower getting ready to shampoo my ever-more-sparsely-populated hair. It really became noticeable when brushing my teeth. It relates to a question you may remember I'd

Two things happened this morning, the 51st day since the surgery: #1 was that I set up my drum kit and played it for the first 9-fingered time. #2 was I was able to clip my fingernails normally without having to resort to wedging the clippers between my knee and left wrist to get the needed torque. So yeah, it's been a pretty good day. It really is the little things... YouTube video of this session. My ring finger is still the one that needs the most work to recover it's mobility and really it might very well need to exceed it's former benchmarks given it's former neighbor finger is no longer with us. the surface is healing up nicely but the internals are still probably about three-fifths healed. Gripping the drum stick with that hand, while possible, didn't feel completely natural although I can hardly complain. It was the 1st time to try playing and the 2nd time I tried holding drumsticks post-op. It is a start and that's what I was shooting for. Macy,