The Countdown
Don’t tell my cancer, but we’re about to launch “Operation Get Outta Here.” Tomorrow (5/30) they’ll put me into a light sleep while they install the port in my chest that will serve as the entry point for my chemo treatments which will begin next Friday (6/6). I’ve enjoyed this period of time between the original diagnosis and the beginning of treatment.
I’ve done so many things that I love to do that I might not be up for during the next few months. Yesterday I played a pretty solid round of golf. We spent a priceless holiday weekend at the beach with the gift of some amazing late spring weather. Lauren and I had a fun Daddy-Daughter bowling date. We’ve gone out for several dinners with friends. We also had our first-ever family portrait taken. It’s that childhood feeling at the end of the summer when the new school year, which once seemed so far away, is only days away.
But here’s what I didn’t expect we’d be doing. We’re laughing. A lot. Cancer isn’t funny…in fact, it’s about as unfunny as it gets. But 18 years ago I was fortunate enough to marry a woman who can be as goofy as I. And as genetics would have it, we spawned a goofy child. In our current situation, the choices are to laugh or cry. We worked hard at the beginning to fulfill our crying requirement, and now we’re on to the other.
If you’ve been through this yourself, then maybe you get it, but I can’t explain the euphoria. There’s something extremely liberating about having such a challenge ahead that the small daily aggravations of life fall off the radar. We’re enjoying so many things so much more. It’s a side-effect the doctors didn’t tell me about.
There are rough days ahead. The chemo, especially the steroids, will try to fool with my moods and patience. But at least going into this we’re charged up and ready. I’ve drawn so much strength from your support, and I’ve learned a great deal from the personal stories you’ve sent me. I’ll represent as best I can by giving this my best effort.
Until next week…
May 29th, 2008 at 3:56 pm
Thank you for taking us on this journey with you. Your strength, honesty and humor are to be admired. I can’t wait for the “I Don’t Have Cancer Anymore” blog entry.
May 29th, 2008 at 7:26 pm
Scott - I have to say I feel as though you are part of my family, like a brother in an odd sort of way. 16-17 years is a long time to share my mornings with someone, you, Erica, Jay and Zack (oh, how I miss him).
You will be in our hearts and prayers through this and like the previous poster stated, we will be waiting for the “I beat cancer” blog!
Keep that positive attitude, as I hear it is the best weapon against cancer and it’s effects.
Take Care and remember, you have many, many people who love and care about you.
May 29th, 2008 at 7:33 pm
Scott,
You have been in my thoughts daily. As I listen to you each morning, I love your humor and outlook. You get me through my morning commute (with my screaming 2 year old twins). I don’t know if you remember me, but I paid the excessive amount of money for my husband Eric to play golf with you last year in the Ginn Open. He loved honor and I loved that he played with you (I am your’s and Erica’s biggest fans).
I understand that humor can be very healing. When I lost both of my parents in an accident 3 years ago, there were times that we went from hysterically crying to hysterically laughing in just 2.3 seconds. I prefer to laugh and lto ook at the bright side. Life can deal you some difficult blows, but there are also great experiences that make life wonderful.
As you begin your chemo, always look at the bright side even when it is hard. Yes you may lose your hair, but you can wear some really neat wigs (I am thinking long, Bret Michaels style might be nice to try). Wear something new everyday to fit your personality for the day.
Anyway, we all love you and your family and wish you the best as you face your journey. We are here to travel with you…
Darlene
May 29th, 2008 at 10:31 pm
Ahoy! Dude you have a great outlook on this whole thing and I am sure you will come thru this absolutely marvelously as you are riding on the wings of thousands of prayers. I too look forward to the cancer free anouncment, it goes something like this:
“Scott has cancer”…. “Fiction”… Ding!!!
Have a mix day
May 30th, 2008 at 7:34 am
Scott, you are worth fighting for! Your family needs you and that includes your extended family that listens to you every day. I have been on this journey with my Father and I understand every thing that you are saying.
May you, Fran and Lauren know that I am praying for each of you. I found that I had the need to “do something” for my Father so I work with a charity now. Everyone is different in how they go about this business of dealing with cancer so I encourage each of you to do what you feel you need to do while knowing all you have to do is ask, and we are there to help you with anything that you need.
May 30th, 2008 at 1:07 pm
couldn’t help but whistle that tune from Spamalot while reading your Blog (”always look on the bright of life”)
May 31st, 2008 at 8:12 am
Scott, sorry to disagree, but sometimes cancer can be the funniest thing around. My own favorite was when a PA scolded me about my tanning practices (she predicted that I if continued I would develop skin cancer in twenty years). Being stage IV throat cancer I found her prediction a bit amusing. I also find my third “nipple” (my port) to be an endless source of inappropriate jokes.
There is a site that has the best collection of “cancer sucks” apparrel and items www.choosehope.com (hats are cheaper than toupes)
I wish you well on your journey, welcome you to the club that none of us wanted to be a member of, but since we’re here let’s make the best of it and never lose sight of the big picture.
June 2nd, 2008 at 8:00 am
God bless, Your angels are always with you and so are so many people who love you.
June 3rd, 2008 at 9:53 am
Hi Scott,
I too have dealt with cancer. I know what a scary time this is and how overwhelmed you can feel as you learn things you never dreamed you’d have to learn, and face a world that right now, is turning yours upside down.
You are awesome Scott. I know just how you are feeling inside, and I can see that you are willing to keep a smile on your face and fight the monster with all you have…not just for you, but for Fran and Lauren too. So do that. Don’t look at cancer as a death sentence, but a blip on your radar screen that you will get around.
A positive attitude is a top priority. But don’t always try to pretend that things are fine. It’s okay to have a pity party from time to time. Afterall, all the kind words from friends, and as much as they mean well, they really don’t know what you’re going through…physically and mentally. So go ahead and give in once in a while. Cry, be mad or blame something. You are entitled to feel that way. But after you’re done, move on and let your family love you and keep picking you up. After those low moments, look again at all the wonderful people in your life, the great job you have. As you are seeing now, there are so many people much worse off.
Thank you for sharing and being so intimate with your feelings and those of your “girls”. Keep up the good fight and win the war. Everyone who can hear your voice on the radio is rooting for you. How many people can say that!? You are blessed, Scott. We love you and your family. Take care and keep us posted.
June 3rd, 2008 at 12:04 pm
It’s like the line in the Jimmy buggett song ‘If we weren’t all crazy we would go insane…’.
I had a good friend, Kyle, deal with a rare form of heart cancer, but I tell you, she embraced the funny side of life like I hope you continue to do. I know there will be tough days ahead, but you’re right, this does put life into some sort of crazy perspective. I remember going to Kyle’s desk one day for a mental health break, and we started laughing so hard about something that one of her co-workers literally walked over from about 30 feet away to find out what was so funny. I’m sure that your family and Erica will fill that role for you….
Please continue to keep us all posted!
June 4th, 2008 at 5:07 pm
scott,my husband and i have been listening to you guys for as long as you have been on the air at work, home, and in the car. about 1 year ago i have been stuck in subway radio hell. In my store we have subway satelite radio. i have not been able to hear you, except for on my way to work. oh and of course my alarm clock. We have been bowling with you guys a couple of years ago for your anniversary, also alot of other places you have been. I know you don’t know us, but we love you guys. The day you told us about it I had just woke up to hear the seriousness of your voice and I knew something was wrong,even though I only caught the end of your conversation. I called my husband who was at work at the time. He runs the subway near 436 & Ronald Reagan. The first thing I asked was what kind of cancer does he have? He didn’t hear because he was in the cooler doing inventory. It bothered me all day, because I had to wait till I got home to find out. It terrifies me. I can’t imagine what you are feeling. My dad was diagnosed with throat cancer about 9 years ago. they got rid of it, then 3 years later it came back. He lost his voice box, but he is still alive, thank god! He is going to be 76 this november. He is retired and all he does is work in his yard. So maybe I can relate a bit. You are going to beat this, I’m saying prayers every day. If you ever want to stop by and show me how to get my satelite radio to regular radio I would welcome it. I am the manager of subway at uptown altamonte. Please do, I haven’t been able to win anything for 11 months. As a matter of fact, I think the last thing I won was the 1000.00 shopping spree to Nordstroms from you. I have very quick fingers when it comes to dialing your number. I miss it. My comute to work is to short. take care, and remember you have millions of well wishers out there.Love Ty and Judy D’agostino
June 5th, 2008 at 5:31 pm
To Scott & “his Girls,”
We love you, Erica & Jay- We listen to you on the way to work and school- We just want you to know we’ll keep you and your sister in our thoughts and prayers- Keep things in perspective- And keep up those positive thoughts…
June 6th, 2008 at 2:21 pm
Well, the first day is the worst. It’s the unknown, but you will soon find that you can handle this. The people, especially the nurses, are the kindest and most compasionate people you will find. Entry through the port is not painful. You can tolerate the chemo, by just taking one day at a time and allow yourself to have the bad day. As I said in a separate entry, you find that you will laugh, and things that were frustrating just don’t seem that important anymore. Laughing at a joke, enjoying time with family and friends, and whatever else brings a smile is what is important. Today is my anniversary of being 1 year cancer free, a week from Monday I will start a new job, life is good.