Our Cancer Year

I recently finished reading a full-length comic book by Harvey Pekar and his wife Joyce Brabner called OUR CANCER YEAR. Pekar is famous for his AMERICAN SPLENDORcomic book series in which he chronicles his life as a VA Hospital file clerk in Cleveland, Ohio.

Pekar died recently but in 1990 he was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. OUR CANCER YEAR is a gritty portrayal of what life was like for him and his wife while fighting the disease. Pekar’s wife is also a comic book writer who focuses on peace projects so there are side stories in the book about Operation Desert Shield and her work with teenage peace activists; and they had recently purchased a home at the time of his diagnosis so there was also the stress that comes with buying a home on top of everything else.

I found the book interesting because Pekar really was able to bring out what it is like to have to suffer through the entire cancer experience, from first finding out about the disease, to all the damage that the chemotherapy treatment does to the body, to the overwhelming toll it takes on those closest to the cancer patient trying to care for him. It was also interesting to me to compare how he managed to cope with the disease versus how I tried to manage. Let’s just say he is a glass half empty kind of guy. While I typically am too, I, never felt as down about things as he did.

While Pekar and I had many similar experiences while battling our respective cancers, we also had many differences. One of the most significant differences was a painful experience he went through that I did not (at least not yet–knock on wood). Pekar contracted Herpes Zoster, also known as Shingles. For some reason, Shingles are a big threat to chemotherapy patients. Thankfully, my doctors were very aggressive about it and have me on an antiviral drug called Valtrex as a preventative measure for at least a year. He also suffered from much worse hallucinations and anxiety than I did as an effect of all the drugs he had to take.

For those of you who aren’t yet sick of hearing me complain about my cancer experience all the time and would like to learn more about the experience from a different perspective, I certainly recommend the book.

After the Transplant

Thinking back, the amount and potency of the chemotherapy that I received during phase one and phase two of my treatment were a pittance compared to what I received for my bone marrow transplant. During the first two phases I thought to myself, ha, this chemo stuff ain’t living up to all the hype. Sure, I lost my hair but it started growing back not too long after the end of each phase. And I never got so sick to where I had to become intimate with the toilet. Not so during the two weeks of chemo treatment before and after the transplant. The doctors really laid it on me with a vengeance then. I got pretty darn sick, especially in the mornings. It’s almost three months later and I would even say that I may still be suffering somewhat from the effects of the chemo I received prior to and after the transplant. And it doesn’t help any that I’m still getting a small dose of it shot into my spine every two weeks.

While I don’t get sick to where I have to pay homage to the toilet anymore, I do get some bad heartburn for a couple of days after the spinal taps. I also still get light-headed when I stand up and, because of my low energy levels, I can only contribute minimally to chores around the house. My counts are steadily rising to normal but they are all not there yet. My platelets are still low which makes it very easy for my skin to cut and bruise and very hard for the injuries to heal. I’m still anemic. It seems that I have a symptom of Graft Versus Host Disease (GVHD) in my mouth: it is almost completely dry all the time, which makes it hard to eat and sleep, and there are tiny bumps all over my cheeks and gums, which feel gross. I have poor circulation and swelling in my legs, especially my left leg. This is probably because the blood clots that I had at the beginning of all this were in my left calf and have left the veins and arteries a little worse for wear. The toes on my left foot are numb. My vision frequently blurs. And, I’m still mostly hairless which is really starting to annoy me; although some peach fuzz is starting to sprout about the chin.

Considering how bad I felt immediately after the transplant, all that I described above is almost irrelevant. I actually feel pretty darn good and I am very thankful for how well I am progressing and all of the support I am receiving. My days are always light and relaxing. I mostly divide my time between reading (my reading list is found at the bottom of this blog), cruising the Internet, taking naps, sitting by the pool, and watching the boob tube. I try to take long walks every other day or so. Fortunately I live out in the country so when I walk I get to experience the beauty of nature. I get to see wildflowers and woods and ponds and creeks and cows and horses and sheep and goats and all kinds of birds (if I’m lucky I’ll get to see majestic cranes either walking the creeks or flying above the tree line) and friendly folks along the way. My dog Shikibu, the best and cutest dog in the world, often joins me on my walks and she always makes them even more interesting and enjoyable. But probably the best part of my day is when, after the sun begins to set and the temperature cools down, my wife and I hop in the hot tub and spend quality time soaking, reflecting on our good fortune, and planning for our long future together.