Hello all

I have not posted for a while.

As far as my medical condition I had a ct scan of my head and lung x-rays last week and got the all clear from my Dr. I have to go back monthly for the first year. I guess it takes five years to called Cancer free but I am officially in remission. I am very fatigued but am getting more energy by the day. My problem is weight. I have lost 70 lbs. I weight 167 from a high of 240. I am 6ft 2in tall. I went to OHSU for a dilation surgery last month. They ram a tapered rod down my throat to open it up. I could not swallow food as the scaring from radiation left only a small hole. I am eating now and have had my feeding tube removed from my stomach and also the port removed from my chest (port used to put in IV.s so as not to use my arms all the time). Looks like I will not have to get surgery as the Cancer is nothing but scar tissue. I feel stronger with every day that passes. The Dr,s say I have a 70 percent that the cancer will not return. That about as good as it gets so I feel very lucky.

I have attached a letter my youngest daughter Cassie wrote. She was sitting on the couch one night about three or four months ago and asked if she could write about my cancer for her creative writing class. Two hours later she read this to me. Needless to say she got an A in the class. I think she should be a writer, but she wants to be in the medical field. She did not know she could write until this class. I guess we don't know what we can do until we try different things. Maybe a lesson in there for all of us to. Cassie has enrolled at Oregon St. The letter inspired me to get through the hard times so thought I would share it with you.

Thanks for all the advice you gave me and best wishes to you all.

Im not sure how to attach a doc here so i will copy and paste.


Dear Dad,

I woke early to discover you on the foot of my bed. Your eyes so grim, presenting no indication of hope. Forty eight year young hands gently wiped the tears from your skin. My world came crashing down for it was Friday, the day the tests came back. As fear flooded my room I knew the answer was the one I prayed so much not to hear. I could witness how hard you were trying to stay strong yet emotions crumbled before me. The lone comprehensible thing able to slip past my lips was to promise you that everything will be fine. I�m so sorry dad. I wish I would have known I lied.

No one really knows how good of friends we are, yet if I told anyone they probably wouldn�t care. Often people wonder why I�m so distant, yet I wonder why I�m so trusting. You have hurt me beyond recovery, yet done it so unwillingly, so innocently. No film or hardback could clarify the horror my eyes had fallen upon. To see you suffering with so much pain was slowly tearing me from myself. The brick wall I put up to shield myself from the disease was so wide I wasn�t able to penetrate it. I�m so sorry I wasn�t me in the time you needed me most.

I have never been so inexperienced in my life. In no way have I felt any emotion as strong as I feel now that you are sick. I am so alone yet encircled by people. My face has developed to show nothing except the lie of a smile so my peers don�t know. I have been raised not to be pitied but to pity others. Whenever someone hears about, they tell me how sorry they are or talk of a friend who lived under similar circumstances. They treat me different from than on, as if it was me that is sick. I keep quite for the fear of people lessening their standards for me.

Help me help you dad. Tell me what I should do. You have left for a while and I missed you. A large part of me has been lost when you started to forget my name. I know you don�t even remember, for your meds have made the past months of your life a blur. I am glad for you not to remember those times; for you have survived. It feels as if I have taken what we had for granted, and I am paying the price for it everyday. You�re coming back though. Bald hill paths are missing us. The jeep sits in a garage all day rusting. Your cancer is dying.

I have learned about life from your outstanding teachings, but when you are unable to teach I live. I live because you don�t have to teach. Just lie there in that hospital bed and that�s the best lesson a father can teach his daughter. Your strength inspires me beyond life limits. Every time I release a breath from my lungs I look back at it as a gift. The best gift a human can get for it is life. Dad, I vow to help you through the pain and the tears. I promise you will get to walk me down the isle. I promise you will see your grandchildren. I know I failed you in the past but I was immature than. You have helped me grow into a knowledgeable person, and I thank you for that.

You are my hero and I hope you know that. Never be embarrassed to show your weaknesses to me, for they are a symbol of love. Allowing me to take care of you is one of the best things you can do for me. I will always be here for you if you need someone, always a step away to catch you when you fall. I love you dad.

Be cancers cancer.

Kids, Just when you want to kill them they surprise us.

I'm new here, but I would like to say that the letter your daughter wrote just broke my heart and warmed my heart at the same time. My father-in-law was diagnosed with oral cancer on his tongue 8 years ago. He had surgery to remove it, followed by chemotherapy and radiation. It has returned in other parts of his mouth including the roof of his mouth and he has has more surgeries over the years. He has trouble talking and now has a feeding tube. I was never involved all that much with his care, but just weeks ago, my own father was diagnosed with cancer under his tongue (sorry, I don't know the names of these locations). He underwent surgery to have the places removed along with the lymphnodes on one side of his neck just this Monday. He is recovering well, although we haven't been to our follow-up appointment yet to find out the pathology results. I can ceratinly understand the feelings of your daughter. She has a wonderful way of putting her thoughts into words. Let yourself be vulnerable to her. Just like you as a parent want to help your children, we as children feel an obligation to care for our parents. I think my father is having a hard time letting me in on his healthcare and allowing me to care for him. It is what I'm here for. Your daughter sounds like a very caring and intelligent person. Be proud of yourself for raising such a strong person. Sounds like your recovery is coming along and I wish you the very best.

I was just wondering your daughters age. She sure wrote a great letter that we all understand.

ezjim
she is seventeen
Jeff

Great now I'm crying again. I seem to do a lot of that lately.
What a beautiful letter. What a beautiful girl. You sir are a lucky man.
Amy