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