Chapter 1
Diagnosis
I had always hated doctors' offices, but on this Monday morning I would finally be given the justification for those old feelings. After six months of unsuccessful treatment by my family practitioner, I had been referred to an ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat specialist) for a persistent sinus infection. I was sitting on the exam table in an unusually posh exam room. I figured that someone had to pay for this nice office space. That someone is about to be me, I laughed to myself. The surgeon was across the room at the counter dictating some notes into my chart. She seemed happy after satisfying herself that I was an excellent candidate for her surgical services.
Just then, for no reason known to me, I felt the side of my neck.
"What do you make of these bumps," I asked.
She whirled around and hit the stop button on her tape recorder. The clicking sound was too loud, too deliberate. The doctor approached me immediately, almost running. She had a look on her face like I was now the dead, still talking. As she felt the nodules on the side of my neck, her mood turned somber in a way that made me feel completely alone. I was so scared that I sat there not registering my own existence. After what seemed like 7 hours, but in reality was only 7 seconds, she said, "You're gonna need to have biopsy surgery tomorrow morning. We need to rule out lymphoma."
In my head, I heard a screeching needle sliding across an old, vinyl record and it drowned out her last words to me. "I'm sorry, did... you just say I have... CANCER!?"
I'm not sure how I managed to make the 45-minute drive home because I had no recollection of the trip. No stop lights, no traffic, no speed limits, and no pedestrians. As I sat my wife, Sara, down on the couch I could see immense fear in her normally jovial green eyes. I bluntly spit out the news so as not to prolong her suffering. "I have to have a biopsy done in the morning. She thinks I might have cancer."
Sara paused for merely a second, leaned into me and we hugged like never before. She held me so tight to her chest that I had to breathe opposite of her just to have room to inhale and exhale. I was amazed by how quickly she rebounded from the news. At least on the outside. She straightened up, manufactured a smile and said, "Well, we don't know anything yet. Let's wait till we know for sure what it is. It might be nothing." I agreed with her ...in principle, but I was a long way from all right.
If you've never had surgery before, you will learn that it is a much-disciplined chaos. The pre-surgery instruction phone call is very clear. "You are scheduled for surgery at 9 a.m. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight the night before. Be at registration by 7 a.m. Wear comfortable clothing." You know why they want you to wear comfortable clothing? Cause you're gonna be sittin' around and doin' a whole lot of waitin'. It's a closely held secret that the more surgeries that are scheduled before you, the more the Operating Room is behind schedule. If you happen to be unlucky and get a 1 p.m. surgery time, you better bring two books. In every surgical waiting room there needs to be a sign that reads: "Expect this to take longer than you're expecting, even if you're expecting it to take longer than you expect."
Around 10:30 a.m. the pre-op nurses finally started wheeling me down the labyrinth of hallways to the O.R. Once inside, the staff moved with the precision of Jeff Gordon's pit crew. I was quickly transferred from my gurney to center stage on the O.R. table. Two things struck me that I can never forget. 1) How unbelievably cold it is in an O.R. 2) How incredibly comforting the microwaved blankets that the nurses cover you with feel.
As show time approached, the anesthesiologist made some lame joke that the nurses laughed at out of trained obligation. He took pride in their coerced laughter. Not being able to shut off my quick wit, even in this situation, I one-upped him and caused a spontaneous roar in the O.R. Clearly wounded by my instant popularity, he leaned into me and began to push the anesthesia medication into my IV. He smiled a shit-eating grin of victory as he played his trump card. "Keep your day job," he whispered, and everything went black.
Copyright
This Time's a Charm; Lessons of a Four-Time Cancer Survivor. Copyright 2008 by Donald A. Wilhelm. Produced in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
Published by F.E.A. Publishing, 21566 Winshall Ct. St. Clair Shores, MI 48081. (586) 863-7636. First edition.
ISBN Number: 978-0-615-20180-1
Visit our website at www.thistimesacharm.com for more information about this book and the author.
Edited by Mike Valentino. 135 Beach Road, Unit C-3, Salisbury, MA 01952
EditorMikeV@aol.com
Cover Design by Donald & Amy Wilhelm.
Cover Photo Credit: Scott Linsdeau
Website Design & Development by Austin McLaughlin
Contents
Acknowledgments 3-4
Author's Note 5
1. Diagnosis 6
2. Choosing My Wagon Master 14
3. My First Bone Marrow Biopsy 22
4. The House That Stress Built 29
5. My First Chemo Appointment 31
6. My First Remission 48
7. Relapse #1 63
8. Hamilton Hotel 75
9. Stem Cell Transplant 77
10.Transplant Recovery 115
11. Fuck You, I'm Still Alive! 131
12. Relapse #2 142
13. Treatment, Round #3 146
14. Radiation Therapy 157
15. Seeking Mental Help 171
16. Relapse #3 178
17. Parting Ways with Dr. Jeff 192
18. On My Own 196
19.Remarkable Chain of Events 202
20.Finally Ever After 210
21. This Time's a Charm is Born 218
22. Some Humble Advice 227
23. C.U.R.E. (Cause You Are Energy) 229
24. Closing Thoughts 231
Acknowledgments
To my wife Amy, thank you for your unquestioning support throughout this project. You never once doubted that we would make this book a reality and for that I am grateful. This is truly our book. I thank the Universe each day for you. I love you.
To my family who supported me and prayed for me throughout my years with cancer, I couldn't have done it without you.
To Dr. Jeffrey Margolis, we've been through a lot together and I appreciate all you've done for me. I'm positive that I'm not the easiest patient you've dealt with. Your tolerance of my requests and directives has been critical to our mutual success.
To my "East Side" friends, thank you for your well wishes and the laughs we've shared. And most importantly, thank you for not changing the way you acted around me just because I was going through treatments.
Author's Note
This is my recollection of a certain 5-year period of my life. Wherever possible, names, events and characteristics have remained true to life. However, some names are fictitious and certain events may have actually occurred differently than I remember. Overall, not bad considering the periods of altered consciousness I've been through. :)
Note from the author coming soon...