Cancer, ugh!: Scared? More so than any other time in my life!

Cancer, ugh!: Scared? More so than any other time in my life!: Emotions are usually pretty standard. You win a poker hand and you're happy. You lose a job, you're sad. Someone punches you in the ...

Scared? More so than any other time in my life!

Emotions are usually pretty standard. You win a poker hand and you're happy. You lose a job, you're sad. Someone punches you in the nuts and you're filled with anger. The same person punches your friend in the groin and you're giddy with joy. However, every now and then you get some news and you realize you don't have an emotion ready and that's what I learned a few weeks ago. I had been waiting for months to have surgery on my formerly 'inoperable' cancer when I got a call telling me it's a go for September 15th. I thought I would feel happy but the first thought is fear followed by sadness, happiness and shock. I wasn't ready to get the concrete date for a surgery that will last 5-6 hours, likely require blood transfusions and require cutting stuff out, stitching things back together and the uncertainty of what they'll see when they slice me open. I'm not a fan of the unknown because we lose control and anyone who has met me knows I'm a little bit of a control freak. 

I'm roughly 34 hours from surgery and despite my best efforts I'm unable to keep my mind occupied with anything but what I face on Monday morning. The surgeon is confident surgery will be successful and he should be able to remove most, if not all, of the cancer from my body. I probably should feel excited but the unknown is a scary thing. The prospect of being able to say "I'm cancer free" would be a dream, even if it's only for a day, a week or a month. Unfortunately, I remain focused on what happens if he opens me up and he has one of those, "holy crap, I didn't expect to see that" moments. Monday morning at 6am is far off and doesn't feel real just yet but knowing at 8am they'll knock me out (I'm hoping for Propofol the same stuff that killed Michael Jackson. That stuff is the bomb!) and I can sleep for the six hours or so the surgery will take. You see I haven't slept more than 2-3 straight hours, save for one day, in almost ten months and I feel worn down beyond anything I've ever felt. The feeling I might get the restful, drug induced sleep of Propofol is the one thing I'm looking forward to.

Cancer wears you down for many reasons. One is the stress of wondering will I beat it and if I don't when will it kill me. Unknown. Another are the treatments. If you ever meet someone going through chemo, try and take a second to lift their spirits. Tell them a joke. Chat about a mundane topic and get their mind off the disease. A story of someone beating cancer. Worst case scenario, just punch their friend in the nuts. It always works! 

Finally, the seemingly endless number of appointments starts to drag you down. I've only had cancer for about ten months but I've lost count of the number of people I've seen, tests run, lab visits and hours spent sitting in a waiting room at Juravinski Cancer Centre. All the tests coupled with the chemo have left me with veins in my arms that are almost impossible to draw blood from. Nobody told me about the crappy side of chemo where your veins seems to disappear and they have to draw blood from the top of your hand. All I heard was good bye back hair followed by blah, blah, blah.

Monday morning, I will leave my home at 5am and check in at 6am for my surgery at 8 o'clock. What scares me is this unknown. I'll wake up around 2 or 3 while struggling to figure out where I am and when I finally get my bearings I'll wait for Dr. Pinthus to tell me if I'll get a good night's sleep on Monday or if it's back to chemo, drugs and the introduction of radiation. I feel tired right now and wishing I could stop this shitty ride but when I look back on the last year I see how many times I've felt like this and how many times the feeling has passed and something great has happened. There have been a lot of hard days but they've always been followed by something that lifted my spirits. Monday will suck knowing it's going to take me 2 months or so before I'm back to normal but I've got an amazing wife that kicks my ass every time I want to sulk, a daughter who amazes me every moment of the day, a team that is going to do something special this year, a job I like and so many friends and colleagues that lift me up everyday! You all might think a couple of sentences in a message doesn't mean much but often it's those words that bring a smile to my face or make me laugh out loud.

One thing I've learned through this whole experience has been it feels awfully good to tell someone how much you appreciate them, a good memory, or just something to make them feel good. It'll make them feel good and you'll get the same fuzzy feeling. Getting through this battle has been made bearable because so many people have done just that for me. Thanks for that!

"When you feel like quitting, think about why you started." Unknown

#shitkickcancer

The picture is from a surprise dinner last Tuesday. While at dinner, parents organized drivers and the players offered to help babysit. 

Cancer, ugh!: First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!

Cancer, ugh!: First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!: Dr. Z: If you had to pick a cancer out of a hat then you'd want to get your cancer. Me: That sounds like a really crappy hat. Just anoth...

First Hurdle Cleared: Only a lifetime to go!

Dr. Z: If you had to pick a cancer out of a hat then you'd want to get your cancer.

Me: That sounds like a really crappy hat.

Just another day sitting and waiting to see one of my oncologists. Today, it's Dr. H although he looks a lot like Wilson from the TV show, House, I'll refer to him as Dr. H. He's been looking after my chemo and according to him any bragging rights to beating my cancer will be decided between Dr. Buster and Dr. H. According to Dr. H., it will be due to him if my cancer is ever gone. I'm feeling upbeat today as my appointment a few days ago with Dr. Buster revealed the chemo and drugs had knocked back my cancer a bit and surgery is on for the fall. The trouble with cancer is every single day you wait for bad news so on the good days you try to hold on a little longer and enjoy them. I've walked into the cancer centre today a little happier than usual. Dr. H., I am not sure what he will tell me today but I am hoping it continues on the path of things are looking good and that we're all going to give cancer a good old shit kicking this fall.

I spent a lot of time talking with my wife, Carolyn, this weekend about what the last seven months have meant. Did I 'survive' chemo, 'fight through' my treatments, 'beat' the cancer or just keep living while it happened around me. I'm inclined to go with the latter as I feel confused about what has really transpired over the last several months. I've learned chemo is a bitch! Chemo, for me, meant spending almost four months being inside someone else's body and times trying to operate with a brain that was like a 1985 Commodore 64 in a land of iPads. One of the drugs I had to take during chemo gave me an appetite that could have turned me into the first "BBQ Whore" if I had been left to work a corner in any major city. Yes, I think I may have been willing to turn tricks for a rack of ribs if you caught me at one o'clock in the morning...or in the afternoon...or evening...or before noon. Yes, I was horny for food 24/7! Until you've had chemo you can't appreciate how much it messes with you. Everyone loves to eat but with chemo I spent a good part of four months never knowing what my food would taste like. I love milk as well as buttered toast but for most of my treatment those things tasted like a harsh chemical. Chemo meant getting hit with a fatigue so quickly that I could leave a practice and within twenty minutes be unable to stop from passing out. I am glad I've gotten through it but I understand why some people say no and let the cancer kill them instead.

I got through the last seven months the same way people get through other things, one step at a time. I don't feel like I won a fight or defeated anything but that the last seven months passed and I managed to stay alive and upright. I've come to accept that I may never be "cancer-free" so finishing chemo and facing surgery in a couple of months is just another set of hurdles I have to get over. My main oncologist has already talked to me about another treatment that is coming out in the future so I've got to think he's already getting prepared for the next round versus cancer. Keeping motivated means leaning on people like family, friends, my team and my medical team. It means being angry a lot during treatment because my wife is pushing me to build a fence when I want to lay down on the couch because she knows laying around is not what I need. Thanks Carolyn for that!

I have a couple of months before surgery that sounds pretty major when it is described by your doctor as, "I'm going to open you up to your abdomen and clean you out. It'll take about five hours or so."  Scared? Hell yes! Excited? Of course! It means I'm going to be out of commission for two months or so but when I'm back I should be as good as new minus a lot of cancer and stuff. It'll be hard recoverng but it's a challenge and my team starts their exhibition season in December and we have a title to defend. 

"Some of you are thinking that you won't fight. Others, that you can't fight. They all say that, until they're out there." Gladiator (2000)

#shitkickcancer

Cancer, ugh!: 6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With ...

Cancer, ugh!: 6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With ...: Me: Doctor, a guy actually called out "Mayor Rob Ford" when he walked in behind me at a truck stop. The cancer meds have given me ...

6's All Around: A Look Back On My Six Months With Cancer

Me: Doctor, a guy actually called out "Mayor Rob Ford" when he walked in behind me at a truck stop. The cancer meds have given me a giant head and multiple chins.

Dr. H: I would have kicked him in the nuts!
(Love my medical team! Nut kickers and nut fixers!)

It's 6AM and a little over six months since my diagnosis and I am starting my blog again prior to my sixth and final chemo treatment. It feels like a pretty special day for me as I'm passing a few milestones and feeling like a much stronger person than I ever thought I had in me. The diagnosis of inoperable, mid-late stage cancer back in December seems so far away now and feels beatable because of how enjoyable the last six months have been. I owe the enjoyment of these last six months to so many people who I don't have the time or space to list but you know who you are.

The latest visit with one of the main doctors of my medical team shows hope and the chance of getting rid of my cancer for a period of time. He didn't want to use the word "cure" but he's hoping that the chemo and surgery should keep it away for a year or years and then we'll be ready to start again and fight it once more. He also added he'd like to take credit for it but to expect my other oncologist would do the same. It was a pretty upbeat visit. He was surprised I played soccer for two hours the night before our visit and after undergoing five chemo sessions. I didn't add that I played it badly and slowly. I'm two hours from my last session and it feels like I've run a marathon, written a five thousand word essay, eaten a fifth plate at a buffet and not cursed during a practice! In all fairness, there's no way I'm lasting a full practice without swearing as you players are going to make one of those pussy passes that pisses me off and then forget to box out!!!!! And that's why I love coaching you all.

It's been the offseason since May 11th and that's driving me nuts with boredom. After my fourth chemo session we took Rebecca to Detroit to see Lady Gaga. She spent a good part of the season having to go to my practices and games so the offseason was a time for her. The concert was rough as the meds were wearing off so despite the loud music I fell asleep in the stands. The one funny thing was I wore what I felt was a cool shirt that may have had a Western look to it. I showed a coworker the pic and she told me I looked like a chubby guy going to see Toby Keith. My wife pushed me through the show and then the next day we spent the day at the Michigan Science Center. It was rough but through this cancer ordeal she has pushed me to do more than I felt I could. I've wanted to kill her at times or curse her out but I argued a little and then 99% of the time did something I didn't think I was up to. She's been a tough coach through this and I'm thankful for it.

I found a parent-daughter basketball camp was scheduled for Indiana University on Father's Day and I was hoping to take Rebecca there but it was a week after my fifth chemo so I was afraid to commit to it as I would have to drive about 2000km on my own to get there (Carolyn doesn't drive and Rebecca can't see above the wheel. In China, that would be ok but not in the USA.). A couple of days before the camp and Carolyn suggested with the subtleness of a steel pipe that I had told Rebecca we'd go and not wanting to let her down we registered and booked the kennel for our dog. We decided to leave Saturday morning and drive the 900km or so to Bloomington in one day and after the Relay For Life in Brantford!

The Relay For Life was an awesome experience! My U17 Brantford Briers basketball team had decided to enter as a team, and dedicated it to me, in the Brantford Relay For Life for the Cancer Society. They informed me I didn't have to be dead for them to dedicate it to me. Thanks...I think. It meant so much to me lining up with the players for the opening and hearing the team name called out. Every player except two made it to the event with some staying for the entire night, and it was a very cold night, to walk laps. This special group of people who I'll forever remember as my favourite team managed to raise almost $2500 which placed them #6 out of 46 teams and the youngest group to participate. It felt awesome to be able to walk that final lap just before 7AM with the last four players left. It was also a great reminder of how much coaching while fighting cancer through chemo and drugs had meant to me and how much a group of teenagers had given me the spirit to keep going and never quit. I rushed away as it closed because we had 900km to drive to get to Indiana.

The drive to Indiana was beautiful as the Midwest is one big postcard. We finally got there around 10pm after a BBQ detour and a brand new GPS that decided to avoid all highways in Indiana and take us on a route that featured every church and cornfield the Hoosier State had to offer. My wife wanted to drive to Assembly Hall as it was her first time on campus. The best part was seeing Rebecca immediately hooked and excited for the next day. It was hard but after a drive of ten hours or so she fell asleep.

We took her on a walk around campus where she fell in love with the buildings and then went over to Assembly Hall where she signed in for the camp. The head coach, the coaching staff and the players were so welcoming and great around the children and parents that my daughter was sad to see the camp end. After being put through drills for over three hours I was quite ok with the end of camp. I had wrongly assumed it was parents watching daughters at camp. Coach Miller put us dads through everything but in twenty years of coaching it was the best run camp and the most "into the campers" staff and players I have ever been around. There's something special going to happen with that program in the next year or so. The highlight was Rebecca and I being called up and being given an autographed ball by Coach Miller for having travelled so far to attend camp. My daughter wanted to line up twice to get the players to sign her shirt and picture and these players chatted with her the whole time. We left the camp having spent a full day where cancer wasn't in the picture.  Rebecca left camp with the basketball bug and now with her ball on display she only wants to talk about going to camp again next year! Thanks Indiana Hoosiers Women's Basketball!

We're home and it's the offseason and the biggest lesson I've taken from the last six months is to stay busy, surround yourself with good people, listen closely to positive stuff, ignore the negative, enjoy little things like the smell of coffee or a chemo fart in your friend's car while he is out getting gas, KEEP BUSY, do everything you'd normally do, have a 'personal trainer' who pushes you and only crash when you really need to. Oh yeah and be as open as you can about your illness. I'm not ashamed I have cancer as it's just an illness I have. I talk about it with everyone and I try to answer all their questions because when they or someone they know has it maybe they'll be better prepared and not feel weird about sharing with others. I've learned a lot from others because of sharing it. I remind people it's not like cancer is an STD I picked up because I slept with a half dozen sailors on a Greek tugboat!

A friend asked me how I top this past season as a coach as being diagnosed with cancer the day before the season, coaching almost every game save one and the team winning a provincial championship is tough to top. My response, next year I'm getting a new disease! I'll be the coach with ebola and cancer!

Things To Do With Cancer

Enjoy your life and keep busy!
Coach 27 games and 60 or so practices

Drive to Detroit to take your daughter to see Lady Gaga two day after chemo

Drive 2000km to Indana and back for a basketball camp

Put up a fence and do trim work on a new floor the day after chemo

Drive to Sudbury and back to coach a provincial championship team

Insult your staff on a daily basis and have them do the same to you

Enjoy chemo because it's a two hour break to watch a movie and get a good nap

Things Not To Do With Cancer

Feel bad for yourself (it happens but you have to shake it off)

Sit around and do nothing

Buy a big Afro wig when you lose your hair (I wanted to but wife said no)

Google cancer!!!!

One of friends was asking me about sun exposure, danger from sun, could I handle the sun, etc. I knew he was dancing around us playing golf and me being sensitive to the sun because of chemo. Finally, I said to him, "I think playing golf is ok because the worst thing that could happen is I could get...cancer."

Convenor: "The referees are not biased."
Me: "I agree. They are equally incompetent."

#shitkickcancer

Cancer, ugh!: Disney shit happened! The end of the first chapter...

Cancer, ugh!: Disney shit happened! The end of the first chapter...: I'm writing this as I wait to see one of my oncologists to review my blood work. Hopefully, my PSA has dropped and that my white and red...

Disney shit happened! The end of the first chapter.

I'm writing this as I wait to see one of my oncologists to review my blood work. Hopefully, my PSA has dropped and that my white and red blood cell counts are good because I'm looking forward to chemo on Wednesday. I have an hour or so before I see him which is giving me some time to write and reflect on our season which ended yesterday.

December 5th seems so far away and that's a good thing because it was the darkest day of my life this far but it also shows how far I've come since my initial diagnosis. Instead of quitting and taking leave from some of the things which make me happy, with a not so gentle push from my wife, I took my life back and have kept doing everything I enjoy. At the top of that list is coaching and this year has been like no other. 

My eleven players are all in grade ten and eleven which means they're only 15 or 16 years old. They've seen their coach quit, come back, change physically and coach through bad days and good days yet they never wavered. In seven months they never quit, checked out or rebelled, they just played and practiced. Every day of this season I knew there were eleven people who had my back and likewise I was there for them. It's been special that with all the chaos of dealing with cancer I could go into the gym three days a week and forget about it and teach, push, develop relationships and improve a group of amazing people.

Months ago, when I first let the news out about my diagnosis it was also the day of our first game against Brampton and with cancer at the forefront someone told me after winning, we had some "Disney shit going on!"  They were right this season has felt a lot like something out of a Disney movie. 

A little bit about this team to put it all into perspective. We have eleven players of which 3 don't play for a school team, 3 play for their JV team, 1 just started playing organized basketball, 1 came back only 7 months after tearing her ACL and 3 come from a small school. All of that means nothing because they work hard, are quick learners, want to win, are unselfish and were pretty good players who were just overlooked in some cases.  Most importantly, they cared about each other and what they needed to do to win. 

I wasn't sure of our level at the beginning of the year so we played very defensively and let the opposition dictate how the game would be played. By mid season this style of play had us playing low scoring games, losing slightly more than we won and squeaking out wins against some weak teams. After a disappointing showing in Toronto we changed our style and began to attack and pressure everyone we faced. The players loved it and played like a totally different team. Practices became harder and more intense but the players kept working hard and improving. We went 4 and 1 in our last tournament before the provincial championships only losing to the #2 team in the province. 

We travelled to Sudbury this past weekend for the provincial championships. We earned the top seed in second division meaning we were #9 in Ontario. Ten minutes into our first game and we lost our starting center. Other players stepped up and some starters played a new position but we won that night and won the next morning. We were now in the semi-finals facing a Mississauga team we were 0-3 against this season as one player seemed to have our number. Twenty minutes before the game and I decided to teach the box and one defense to the team on a chalkboard. I gave one player, who I have come to trust on defense more than anyone else, the task to guard the star player. The reaction didn't go as I hoped.

E: I can't take her.

Me: You're F#€%ing quitting on us! That's bull?¥£%. Can you take her or do I get someone

        else?

E: I'll do it.

She took her and held her to one basket while scoring 25 points herself. That's why I love coaching. There's no better feeling than seeing someone do something they didn't realize they had in them. I don't think she'll back down from a challenge like that again. Correction, I know she'll never back down ever again! Due in part to her great game we beat them for the first time and made the Ontario Provincial Championship game.

After the game the players and their parents got a meeting room at the hotel so we could all get together. When I walked in and sat down the players surrounded me and one player gave a speech about what the season meant to the team. I kept from getting choked up but it meant so much to me. After the semi final win one player came up and said "thanks for coaching us". This team has become a family to my family. 

We played Dundas in the final which is a pretty strong team and I don't think people outside of our team thought we had a chance. We played hard but every time we got a lead they came back and went up. We were down by 4 with 4 minutes to go which felt insurmountable with two of our best players out of the game. One girl came off the bench and played almost the entire 4th quarter without a rest and played great defense. The girls never gave up on themselves and seemed more relaxed as the game got tighter. We went on a run to take the lead due to a three pointer and a pair of free throws by our best scorers. We never lost the lead and with 3.4 seconds left Dundas couldn't get it up the court in time for a good shot.

Watching the girls pile on each other and eventually on me it hit me how special this season has been. No matter how hard I was on these girls they never quit or gave attitude. There were so many times during practice they'd show me how much they cared about me and my health. That's family, when you are concerned about others as much or more than about yourself. The emphasis on family was the reason at mid season we changed our cheer from our team name, Briers, to "together". I wanted us to always think about the group and nothing else. 

Climbing up the ladder to take my turn cutting down the net felt unbelievable. Five months earlier I was quitting coaching because as a cancer patient I couldn't live a normal life anymore. Thanks Carolyn, Rebecca, Sitarski, Cheese, Derks, Cesar, Emily, Madia, Sherm, Chang, Lemmon, Mc, and Kelsey for kicking my butt just as much as I kicked yours.

"I love you guys." Coach Byrne, Disney Shit (2014)

#shitkickcancer 

Cancer, ugh!: Journey, and I'm not talking about that Steve Perr...

Cancer, ugh!: Journey, and I'm not talking about that Steve Perr...: Player A: Coach, you didn't like us at the beginning, did you? Me: I don't like anyone at the beginning of the year.  My wife ...

Journey, and I'm not talking about that Steve Perry band!

Player A: Coach, you didn't like us at the beginning, did you?

Me: I don't like anyone at the beginning of the year. 

My wife has always dogged me about rushing to get to my destination, finish my projects or complete anything I've been tasked with. I never look around and enjoy the process but push through trying to get to the end of whatever I'm doing. Cancer has been a bit of a blessing as it's forced me to slow down and take everything in as I want to enjoy everything because quite frankly, I have no idea how much time I have left. I'm not packng it in but the reality is the cancer is aggressive, wasn't caught early and there's no treatment plan that's tried and true for people my age.* That's why I focus on process and not the final result. I want to take in and enjoy every second like savoring a nice glass of whiskey or a nice breeze.

The first thing I've taken in is how many people around me are really caring people and are bending over backwards giving me support. You'll never know how much this means to me! Whenever I'm down I read your messages again and again and they make me feel stronger or give me a good laugh. The offers of help, advice and hosting have blown me away. I've always been a guy who gets pretty emotional just ask anyone who's played for me. A close win over a tough opponent or an end of season win and I'm likely to start turning red eyed. 

Yesterday, I found out a group of people were getting together to have a fundraiser for me led by Erica C.! Once again, I'm tearing up as I write this. Damnit! I left Newfoundland, HOME, fifteen years ago and the notion anyone would do something like that means so much to me that it makes me want to beat cancer just so I can have more years knowing and meeting people like that. Cancer has made me take notice of all the people we meet and how when things are rough they step up and step up in a big way. In times of darkness the people who reach out might surprise you and the ones who are nowhere to be found will probably shock you. The friends I never hear from doesn't bother me for a second as this lesson called cancer has taught me to focus on the positive. Shocking!! Positive Paul is back and he's smiling like a pair of Mormons knocking on your door!

Practices have been a little more special this year as I've tried to enjoy every second of them. I've gotten to know the players as well as any team I've had in the past. Every drill has been special because I want to enjoy every second of them. Maybe that's been a difference as this is the first team I've ever coached to never go through a down period, get tired of practice or lose their interest for even a day. It's not because I've been easy on them. These players have been pushed, scolded, cursed, yelled at but they've gotten tougher and done the same for me. Side note, these players will never see Montreal Paul dancing on speakers. Sorry, but that's reserved for U19 1999. 

Family. Family. This is the roughest part. I've tried to enjoy every moment with them but it's harder to focus on each and every moment because the thought of leaving them brings on a crying fest and daddy taking a trip to the bathroom so Rebecca doesn't figure out what's going on. I think about them all the time and try to make sure we are planning on lots of family time and trips this summer because right now I feel good but I want to make sure it gets done while I'm still feeling strong. I enjoy the time laying around with my family a little more, they come to all my practices as I want to look over and see them, the quiet time of a cuddle with Rebecca take on a very special meaning for me and projects with Carolyn don't get put off. Ok that's BS! They get put off but I buy the materials sooner. We've had 600 square feet of flooring sitting in our living room for three weeks so who am I kidding. Family makes me focus more on beating this dickhead called cancer! My oncologist telling me we're going for a cure gives me optimism and hope for many more years with them. 

I no longer rush to get where I'm going but to enjoy every step. Clarence Sutton, one of the best coaches and people I've ever met, had a team use "every journey begins with a single step" one season as their motto. I've always liked it but I'm trying to enjoy every single step despite the fact this journey of mine began with a step into a huge pile of dog poop! When I say dog poop, I'm talking about a dog that are ten tacos kind of poop! Take the time to look around today and just enjoy the company you're with, listen a little closer to what people are saying, look around and take in the scenery while you're driving, exchange insurance information with the other driver of the car you just rear ended because you listened to my previous advice but most of all enjoy the positive stuff because the negative takes away from all the greatness around us. 

*Not planning on dying anytime soon. 

"Five players functioning on the floor as one single unit: team, team, team - no one more important than the other." Norman Dale, Hooisers

#shitkickcancer

Cancer, ugh!: Sorry cancer but I'm busy. Just leave a message at...

Cancer, ugh!: Sorry cancer but I'm busy. Just leave a message at...: When I found out I had cancer the first thing I did was quit everything, including coaching for 24 hours. Cancer made me feel like I could d...

Sorry cancer but I'm busy. Just leave a message at the beep!

When I found out I had cancer the first thing I did was quit everything, including coaching for 24 hours. Cancer made me feel like I could do nothing but be 'cancer guy'! Why? Because I kept reading about people who had to step away because of cancer.

Philadelphia Flyers coach, Roger Neilson, took a leave of absence while he fought bone cancer.

A high school coach from Newfoundland stepped away for a year with lymphoma.

NFL coach, Chuck Pagano, had a replacement while he fought leukemia. 

Andy Reid of the Philadelphia Eagles battled the cancer, Terrell Owens, and made it to a Super Bowl. Sorry TO, I'm just kidding. I felt a moment of brevity was needed.

Cancer has caused me to miss a single practice and I have no intention to give it a chance to get in my way of living a happy life. I haven't missed a day of work or time with my family nor do I intend to let it. However, cancer was used as an excuse for leaving Homesense while my wife looked at cushions for an hour. Thanks cancer!

Cancer does not come with a rule book which is both a good and bad thing. How am I supposed to act and what should I do? My sense of humor has been active in the fight and I ask my friends and coworkers to do the same.

Me: My doctor is saying the only thing that could save me is a large order from you.

Customer: It'll be sad to see you go so young.

I feel like to "fit in" I should be looking sad, walking slowly and sitting at home. Screw that! When I go to the cancer centre I always go in with a huge smile and a skip in my step. Cancer will NOT ruin my day. I try to do the same thing on chemo days:

      2:00 Chemotherapy

      5:30 Pickup Rebecca and have dinner

      6:45 U17 Practice

      9:00 Walk dog for half an hour

      10:00 Gym and workout for 90 minutes

I've decided to keep active and do everything I can to be me. That includes being sarcastic, yelling, cursing, coaching, never sitting still, joking, having fun, hanging with family and working. Every now and then I remember I have cancer and I feel a little down but then I shake my head or I get an email or message from someone, often a former player, about something from the past and I laugh, smile or tear up and I'm my regular dickhead self again. Thanks Flynn for the most recent "Paul was a knob story." Yes, I realize I can be a dick from time to time...ok, most of the time.

Cancer has been a great learning experience. I've discovered there are a lot of people who care about me, I might be stronger than I thought, cancer isn't who I am but something I have, teams remain strong even twenty years after you've been together and at Brantford General Hospital they will NOT give you a picture of your testicles during a scrotal ultrasound but if I was pregnant I could have all the pictures I want! Double standard! Also, the technician will look uncomfortable for the duration of your visit after being asked for a picture of the scrotal ultrasound.

We are three weeks away from the end of our season, a season that I have battled cancer every day but I have not allowed it to cause me to miss a game and all but one practice. I've come to believe that I'm going to beat it by focusing on getting through a season at a time because to miss a game or practice because I let cancer beat me would just piss me off! In three weeks I'll be undefeated as a coach fighting cancer, 1-0! See you next season.

"Our Lady of Victory...PRAY FOR US!" Notre Dame Football

#shitkickcancer

Syracuse Men's Basketball, Jim Boeheim, beat prostate cancer just like I plan on doing!

Cancer, ugh!: Doctors, few are called but many answer.

Cancer, ugh!: Doctors, few are called but many answer.: Doctor Buster: Do you know why we use two fingers? Me: No idea. Doctor B.: It's a second opinion. (Laughing) The signs of my cancer bega...

Doctors, few are called but many answer.

Doctor Buster: Do you know why we use two fingers?

Me: No idea.

Doctor B.: It's a second opinion. (Laughing)

The signs of my cancer began in mid-September with visits to two different doctors and after eight months I've been treated and assessed by eleven doctors. I've now formed the opinion that doctors are like every other job; 10% are great, most are decent at doing the basics of their job and 10% are working in the wrong field. The eleven doctors I've seen fit this opinion with one exception, at Juravinski Cancer Centre I've only run into one doctor who was anything less than great.

The first doctor I saw in September was at a walk-in clinic in Cambridge. I described my abdominal discomfort answered her questions about diet, exercise and when it started. She never examined me physically nor came within 5 feet of me but suggested I ease my diet change slowly as going from an unhealthy diet to a diet high in fruits and vegetables was the likely culprit causing my abdominal pain. Thanks Doc! If you performed a physical exam maybe you might have noticed the 5cm lump that was cancer.

Two weeks later, my second doctor performed a physical exam and didn't like what she felt and rushed a series of tests. After a couple of CT scans, ultrasounds, 31 probing fingers and a biopsy, they found my cancer. One doctor pushed me through without really knowing the cause of the pain while the other wanted answers. How many others will the first doctor miss during her career? My second doctor later disappointed me when she broke the news I had cancer. She said it was likely late stage and to all my questions all she could offer was some sleeping pills to help me sleep. I went home and waited for two weeks knowing there was no hope because she took it from me in her office. However, I'll be eternally grateful to her for following her hunch and pushing for an answer to the cause of my pain.  

The surgical resident at Brantford General needs to learn how to act around patients. While I waited for the surgeon she asked me many questions about my symptoms and family history. I knew where she was going so I asked her about the likelihood of cancer. She smiled and giggled uncomfortably. When I asked her more questions about cancer and treatment she gave me the same uncomfortable smiles and surppessed laughter. If you find yourself so awkward when dealing with a worried patient you may be best suited for a lab, far from ill people.

Dr. N and Dr. Z. At Juravinski Cancer Centre. I was at my most vulnerable when I walked through the doors at Juravinski having spent two weeks waiting with only two things consuming my thoughts, late stage cancer and 'inoperable'. Dr. Z met with us for thirty minutes and seemed to always know what we needed to hear or were afraid to ask. We felt helpless and hopeless but she treated us like we were the only people she was helping and gave us hope and told us they knew cancer and how to treat it. Dr. N came in echoed much of what she said and gave us as much time as we needed, dividing it equally between my wife and I. They understood what a diagnosis like cancer does to a family and they included Carolyn instead of ignoring her. Far from having a God complex they talked of how they wanted to pull in other doctors and come up with the best plan possible. 

Dr. Buster, I can't say enough about this man. I'm glad he came into my battle with cancer. His passion, energy and desire to treat the patient are indescribable. He makes a connection to you like no doctor I've ever met. My cancer is rare for a person my age which is good and bad. It's good because I'm younger and healthier than the typical patient but it's bad because the most common treatments are aimed at keeping old men alive for 5-10 years or so until they die of natural causes. 

Dr. Buster is constantly running my case by his peers and reaching out to other doctors who he thinks might be able to contribute in my fight against cancer. I've received calls from his office in the evening addressing my concerns, stories of success, nutritional help, humor, a constantly evolving treatment plan, focus on Carolyn and her feelings, bringing another oncologist into the fold who is one of the best in Canada, pushing for a cure, having the best nurse I've ever met and making me feel like I'm the only patient he's treating. I wish every doctor could follow his example just like I'd love it if every teacher taught like Mrs. Richard. 

Dr. Buster informed me yesterday my PSA has dropped from 329.8 to 0.21 due to treatment. Cancer is being fought!

Me: I'm writing a blog and you're in it. I don't use your real name. I call you Dr. Buster.

Dr. B: Dr. Buster (shaking his head)? You're getting this next time (Waves 3 fingers).

Fighting cancer is fun! If you like a challenge and want to see what you're made of and how many wonderful people you have in your life then I suggest consulting with your physician about getting cancer. All joking aside, some days you hit rock bottom and can't see ever feeling good again and then you get an email from an old player at just the right moment with just the right words and you're up and ready to fight again! Thanks Kerri. :)

"Son in 35 years of religious study, I have only come up with two hard incontrovertible facts: there is a God, and I'm not Him."

Father Cavanaugh, Rudy (1993)

#shitkickcancer

Cancer, ugh!: Doubters? Sorry but suck it!

Cancer, ugh!: Doubters? Sorry but suck it!: "Sorry but it's inoperable." "It appears mid to late stage. I'm sorry. Would you like something to help you sleep?&qu...

Doubters? Sorry but suck it!

"Sorry but it's inoperable."

"It appears mid to late stage. I'm sorry. Would you like something to help you sleep?"

"You'll graduate at Christmas." (Gander, NL slang for flunking out of university.)

"They'll never return your call."

"Your injury is in the worst 10% I've seen. You'll have to start looking at hobbies that are not physically demanding."

"You're a Canadian so they think you know nothing about basketball. Hockey, yes but not basketball."

"You don't have the pre-requisites so you shouldn't take this class. It'll be tough for you to pass."

By the time lunch time hits tomorrow each one of us will encounter someone who will decide to cast doubt on something we plan to do, a thought we have or an idea we mention in passing. Don't think of it as doubt but as a challenge. There's nothing better than proving someone wrong no matter how innocent their intentions were. I love nothing more than someone telling me I can't do something or it's out of my league. Maybe I will be defeated but it's not a failure if you actually try. It's standing at the base of a mountain and turning around that is failure. 

Each of the quotes from above are from teachers, friends, fellow coaches and doctors. I could have listened but I didn't and I won't. The great thing about being alive is facing these challenges and how we overcome them. 

      No Pre-requisites: I received an A. Thanks D.B.!

What's motivating me right now? The joy of being alive, of being with a family I love and wanting to get old with them, of being blessed with knowing and meeting so many special people, of little tiny things that I savor a little longer like friendly banter with the nurse who's trying to run an IV line.

Nurse: Do you have any allergies?

Me: Penicillin and country music. Especially guys like Keith Urban who seem a little...you know what.

Nurse: (Blank look)

Me: Penicillin. 

      Too Canadian: I was put in charge of defensive stations for camp coaches at Indiana

      University during camp week 2 in 1995. Thanks R.F.!

The great thing about fighting cancer is the doubters are disappearing. I'm being surrounded by a medical team that is fighting for me, friends and strangers who are cheering me on. Every day I feel stronger and more confident. Am I going to win? No idea but it's going to be an awesome fight.

      Injury: I started rock climbing and did a 300 foot multi-pitch climb within 4 years. Thanks

      Doc L.!

The first two doctors to tell me I had cancer gave me nothing but hopelessness. I left expecting the third doctor to come in and ask if I had a nice black suit, no shoes required. However, that didn't happen he came in and threw me hope. There lies my problem with those who put down your ideas and plans and aspirations. No one has the right to take hope away. I told an intern a few weeks ago that same thing and repeated it in front of the other doctor. I told him after listening to him for five minutes I wanted to swallow a gun barrel. I haven't seen him in the clinic since. I don't know why but I don't really care. It's my life and right now you're in my way.

      Returning my call: The assistant coach at Indiana University called back and became a 

      friend who had me down a couple of times. Thanks Norm!

My favorite players were those who were so determined that once the ball was tossed up they knew they were going to win and played like it until the buzzer went and the scoreboard told them different. They were fighters, winners. I've coached a few players who played great when they expected to win but against a tougher opponent they didn't try because they KNEW they were going to lose. They lost because they never tried. They gave up at the base of the mountain and walked away. I smile and say hi to you but I'll never see you anything but a quitter. Sorry. 

     Christmas Graduate: First semester was higher than my high school grades. Thanks

     Mrs. R.!

Every time I walk into the chemo suites or the hospital I do it with a big smile on face and a few good one liners ready. I'm in control and charging at it. I actually enjoy each visit because every time I go there cancer is being fought and that's got to put a big shit eating grin on my chubby face. 

Of course, I'm leaving out failures because I don't need to focus on failure when failure means death. The time it's not a failed course, an arthritic ankle or a red face. I'm climbing this mountain and never turning back. I'll either die on this mountain or plant my flag at the peak.

     Inoperable & Sleeping Pills: To Be Continued...

"...see if we can give 'em a big old shit burger to eat." Lou Brown, Major League

#shitkickcancer

Player - Coach, Life and Death

"You'll be here in two years...I think."

That was my oncologist's reaction to my comment I feared I'd be dead in two years.  I felt great until he qualified it with "I think."

Unfortunately, the nature of my cancer is that I feel great 99% of the time and aside from a little discomfort and the need to urinate every two hours I feel healthy. The great part of that is that I'm able to put cancer out of my mind some of the time. The hardest part is right before seeing my doctor(s) as I never know what they're going to tell me. 

I'm writing this as I sit in the waiting area for clinic E at Juravinski Cancer Centre where soon I'll get some tests to see whether I'm strong enough to get chemo tomorrow. The fear they tell me I'm not scares me as without chemo I don't feel like I'm fighting cancer. 

The best advice I've received so far is to take control of my situation. I shaved my head last week when I started noticing my hair was falling out. I hit the gym and lift weights 3-4 times a week, ride bike and I coach. I COACH! 

Coaching has been such a special thing this year. I found out I had cancer the day before our season began and coaching a very special group of kids has been something that makes me feel healthy and alive. I feel bad for people who have never been part of a team as to be part of a team is a bond like no other. We are born into a family or adopted into one without choice but one chooses to tryout for a team or coach a team and as someone who started coaching in 1992. Thanks to Joanne Small for getting me into it at Bishops College and thanks to Sadie Bennett at Bishops for letting me go after one year. Sadie put the fire into me to learn more about something I knew little about.

 I've treated this as the cancer season and I feel unbeatable throughout this year. I have a group of players from different schools and towns that have bonded into a very tight group of players who genuinely care about each other and support their teammates. I'm hard on them and I push them harder than I've pushed a lot of players but they respond. I've seen some of them grow as players and people beyond my wildest expectations. That's why I love coaching. There's something so special about seeing individuals, especially teenagers, place the team above themselves. In coaching since 1992, I've been so lucky to have coached so many players and teams like that. I've made a lot of mistakes during all these years but that's the great thing about coaching, I get to go home and try to learn from them so the next practice, game, or team gets better.

When I found out I had this aggressive form of prostate cancer it scared the living hell out of me. However, since then I have heard from so many old players and present players that I truly feel honored to have ever coached such great people.  Many of these messages have been so personal, telling stories of when I coached them, speeches I gave (I teared up when my favorite #12 told me one :) ) and words of wisdom/inspiration when I was at my lowest. My current team, Brantford Briers U17s decided, on their own, to enter the team in the Relay For Life in my name. How can I not break down when a group of kids does something like that on their own. To all my former players, your words give me hope when I'm down, strength when I feel weak and a smile or laugh when I want to cry like a baby.

So many times I've, cursed, yelled, cursed, pushed a player, cursed or ridden a team because I knew they had more in them and didn't want them to quit on themselves or their teammates. It was a joy to see a player do something they didn't think they could or beat a them they feared. Twenty years and a couple of hundred players later and they're doing it to me. Thanks to every kid who has let me have the privilege of coaching them and an even bigger thanks for pushing me, kicking me and encouraging me, each and everyone of you.

PWC, Memorial University, Newfoundland, Brantford Briers

"I love you guys." Coach Norman Dale, Hoosiers

#shitkickcancer

Thanks to Loren Kielly for propositioning John Coaker over and over via phone during the 1998 AUAA playoffs. That's one coaching memory that makes me laugh every time. Although Coaker probably still feels nervous every time Loren calls him.

Chemo-sabi!

Chemo is a word I've probably said out loud a thousand times but until you need it to start killing what's trying to kill you it's just some word. What I've learned is that chemo describes a wide range of drugs that kill cancerous cells. Mine is extracted from a tree found on the west coast of North America. How they discovered it I have no idea but I'm pretty sure a weekend trip by a few PhDs with a big bag of mushrooms had something to do with it. 

Before I get to start chemo I have to go to chemo teaching. It's a one hour class where a chemo nurse and then a pharmacist walk you through what to expect, problems, emergencies and most importantly what is chemo? It's funny how you get thrown into a room full of strangers but you instantly have a strong bond because each of you is living with something that wants to kill you inside of you. When I mentioned to the nurse that I didn't have my anti-nausea meds with me before she could reply at least three people were offering to share their's with me. A selfless act by perfect strangers reminding you that we've all got each other's back.

Carolyn and I went upstairs for my chemo appointment and while I was getting registered the lady from the Cancer Society told me she had an "Afghan" for me because it was my first treatment. Juravinski Cancer Centre has an amazing group of volunteers that make you feel that you're going to beat it and there's a lot of people who are rooting for you. I asked her if I had a choice of a male or female Afghan. I got that blank look of someone who has never been introduced to my sense of humor. I added that I'd prefer a male as they probably work harder. Once again, blank stare. My wife stepped in and pointed out I was trying to be funny. They gave her the blanket and she doesn't even have cancer! 

The nurse came out with my bag of chemo and some other stuff like Benadryl and brought us to the chemo suite, one of a few, and I got seated in the easy chair surrounded by other patients. She found a vein and got the IV started. She asked me if I was ok to which I replied, "I think I have cancer but let's keep this on the down low." Watching the drip start it felt awesome knowing there was now something fighting the cancer in my body. She then came over with a big set of cooking mitts and similar boots that would chill my hands and feet to slow down blood flow and reduce the chance my nails would fall off. Shortly after the Benadryl knocked me out and I slept for the rest of the hour.

Cancer sucks...a lot but it's times like this you realize how great life is. I'm surrounded with people coming out of everywhere supporting me and that makes you realize how much you love life and there's so much more to do. I always thought when I had to face death I would regret all those books I hadn't read. Thomas Hardy's Return of the Native comes to mind. Nope, hasn't happened. When I got my diagnosis the first thing I thought about was how I still have no intention of reading that book.

The biggest thing I've come to appreciate is how much you enjoy a short message from someone, a kind word, a good zinger. I'm alive today and it was a great one. I have my team back in the gym in five days and we've got a lot to work on with twenty practices and three tournaments left. A full season with cancer and I feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"You want me to take him outside and kick the shit out of him?" 

Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn, Major League

#shitkickcancer

Juravinski Cancer Centre, my 2nd home

December 20th and I got to meet the first members of my cancer team, Drs. Z and N. I couldn't have asked for two people better suited for their profession as they were confident, optimistic and had a plan...a plan meant for 65 year old men, not 41 year olds. I've got prostate cancer, yes prostate cancer. In fact I'm the youngest person they've ever seen, EVER! Most treatments are aimed at keeping old people alive until natural causes take them but for me that only gets me to my 50s, early 50s.

Dr. N set up an appointment for a doctor who specialized in prostate cancers named Dr. Buster (He's got two hands and a couple of very uncomfortable fingers!). Dr. Buster has been just what we needed as he is smart, an outside the box thinker and understands how important it is to include Carolyn. All too often we forget about the spouse when there's a serious illness. They're our rock but left out in the cold to take care of themselves while everyone tends to the sick person. Dr. Buster shows as much care for her as he does for me.

My first visit with Dr. Buster was a shocker as I had just purchased my first injection for $1395! He started the appointment by telling me to toss it in the garbage. I turned bleach white! He informed me that Dr. N's choice of injections would only work for about a year. He was switching me to a new drug that had better results, worked faster and likely longer. Longer is a theme I'm going for. He called me at home later that night to see if I was ok with the change. The doctor really seems to care. He introduced me to his nurse, Nurse A. (For awesome!) who is great and works so well with him. They have a partnership built on respect and humor. Thankfully, they can be serious but also lighten a moment as well.

She came in after Dr. Buster's first examination and asked how it went. I told her I couldn't say what just happened but that I may or may not now be pregnant and I have lost all desire to spend time in a Greek prison.

After two months of these exams I am pretty sure I can tell whether someone is left handed or right handed without looking.

My bone scan was pretty embarrassing. They strap you into a machine on your back then tell you to be still for 15 minutes or so. To help you cope they offer to try and get a radio station on a 5 dollar radio which seems only able to produce white noise. I gave them my iPad and hit random which after one song by The Ramones backfired. I forgot that it backs up everything so what followed was a stream of Ke$ha, Taylor Swift, Justin Beiber, Tegan and Sara and Disney Teen Beach movie. Thanks Rebecca! I'm sure the two technicians didn't judge me. Most 42 year old men have that stuff on their iPads. I left feeling like someone who shouldn't be within 30 meters of a schoolyard. :)

 

The greatest part of Juravinski is they give you hope that there's a possibility they can keep you alive as I keep hearing there is no cure for my cancer but they might be able to treat it. My case was presented a month ago at a conference in San Francisco by my oncologist to a group of oncologists from around the world who are split on the best treatment. I told my doctor as I wasn't taken with him he could have brought me a shirt that said "My Oncologist Presented My Cancer And All I Got Was This Lousy Shirt!" Apparently, these shirts are not yet, YET, sold at conferences.

The best advice I've gotten so far was from Howard Stern's show and that was to assemble a team and I've got a great one! I have friends offering to get me to and from the hospital, a couple of friends who are doctors breaking down the mumbo jumbo (There's a lot of it!), a very supportive employer ("Don't worry about your salary just focus on you."), great friends who continue to bust my balls ("Maybe cancer is God's way of helping you lose weight?"), a team of kids who push me as much as I push them, the world's greatest daughter and best of all a wife who has been beyond a rock through all this. It makes you smile when you realize at the darkest times things are still pretty awesome.

However, one thing I hate is listening to people who become experts because they've had it. I had the following chat with a person and never spoke to them again.

Grim Reaper: Listen to my advice because I beat a bad one. My PSA(indication of cancer presence)was over 10! What's yours?

Me: 329.1.

Grim Reaper: (crickets)

Tomorrow I start chemotherapy and I'll be shaving my head next weekend as I'll be damned if I'm letting cancer take my awesome receding hairline and stunning bald spot! It's a pretty scary adventure but I've got so many awesome people in my corner that it's a fight I'm in for the long haul.

"Shhheeeeeeettttttt!" Clay Davis, The Wire

#shitkickcancer

First Days

"Is there anyone here with you?" The moment the doctor asked me that I knew it was cancer.

It began with some abdominal discomfort at the end of September and a couple of trips to two different clinics. The second doctor thought something was odd and sent me for an ultrasound then a CT scan which was followed by another ultrasound and a final CT scan biopsy. After two months my worst fear was realized, I had cancer. Cancer is such a common word but when you find out you have it then it's a whole different matter.

The diagnosis came on December 5 a few hours before basketball practice for my under 17 Brantford Briers girls team. As soon as I heard the diagnosis everything kind of went into shut down mode. All I thought about was death and that it wouldn't be far off. My first thought was to remove myself from everything. I sent a message through a fellow coach for my team that I was giving up coaching immediately and that I had cancer. It was surreal as a few hours earlier I was excited about our first tournament beginning the next day. I spent the rest of the evening stunned and trying to figure out how to deal with it. My surgeon told me it wasn't caught early but that was all he knew. The next day the doctor at my clinic told me it was mid to late stage and she couldn't tell me the prognosis but, "none of us know how much time we have so live each day as best I can". I call her Dr. Death. They both referred me to Juravinski Cancer Centre in Hamilton but I would wait two weeks to see the oncologists. I expected to spend the next two weeks in a daze while I waited for my prognosis of an early death.

Friday came but I was still in a blur not having slept and still reeling from the bad prognosis. Tonight my team would be playing and another coach would be on the bench for the rest of the year. As game time got closer my wife, Carolyn, pushed me to go and watch the team play. It would get my mind off of cancer for a bit and the team and parents would appreciate seeing me. I ceded to her suggestion and went to the game. Women seem to be smarter, sadly.

We got to St. Thomas More and went to sit with the parents where we got more hugs than one person would ever want or need. The game was about to start but the parents kept telling me to go sit on the bench. Reluctantly, I started to cross the floor when the parents and relatives, 20 or so people, stood up and applauded. The girls saw I was there and started cheering me on. I got kind of choked up and took a seat on the bench. The girls played their butts off that night and easily beat a good team from Brampton. Before the game one mother had sent me an email telling me her daughter is playing basketball for me. 

I've been with them ever since and being in the gym working with a great bunch of kids is a whole lot better than feeling sorry for myself. Thankfully, my family, friends and my team have been so supportive and reminded me it's pretty great to be alive. 

That was enough for me to decide I wasn't sitting back and waiting for cancer to stop my life. It's like that quote from Shawshank Redemption, "Get busy living or get busy dying." I'm going with the first one!

 I've never blogged before but I'm going to try to as I begin this journey as the experiences of others have helped me so far and maybe someone might gain some insight from my own trip.

#shitkickcancer