It is 10:53am. I am sitting at the kitchen table. I know I haven’t updated the blog in a while. To put things mildly, this has been a rough couple weeks for me.

While I was going through my cancer treatment, the doctors would always bring in prior cancer patients that they had worked with who all went through and survived the treatment that I was going through. They were there to give hope, provide insight, and answer any questions that I had. I remember speaking to this one gentleman in particular, and he told me that the hardest part of this process was when the treatment was over. He told me for him it was a nightmare. He told me that he was finished with his treatment, he was supposed to be getting better, but he just was not getting better. I thought to myself, “That was really the hardest part?” I am not sure why I doubted that man, because boy he was right.

After the conclusion of my treatment I just sat around and didn’t do anything. I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. I could not eat, drink, or talk. As I mentioned earlier, the phlegm in my mouth was unbelievably unbearable. I was constantly drooling and constantly spitting up mucus. I was using 2-3 rolls of paper towels per day to wipe my drool and to spit into. Just think about how many squares are in each roll of paper towels. To go through 2-3 a day was ridiculous. I was literally wiping drool and spitting every 10 seconds for 24 hours a day. And when I say 24 hours, I mean 24 hours. I could not sleep. For one I have this feeding tube in my stomach, which prevents me from sleeping on my stomach. I couldn’t sleep on my back because I would choke on the phlegm that built up in my mouth. So the only thing I could do was try to sleep on my side. So picture me on my side every night literally drooling and spitting into a paper towels while simultaneously trying to sleep. It is horrible. I also found out the hard way that lying on your side for long periods of time really hurts your hips. I mean it really makes them sore. What I did to try to prevent this pain was roll up one of those soft blankets and wrap it around my hips to help ease the pain. It did not work.

Prior to the other day, I left the house like 3 times in the last 3 weeks… all for doctor’s appointments. I was really, really depressed. I am a naturally depressed person anyway since I am prescribed to the depressive realism school of thought (hi Melissa), but the totality of my situation just made things worse. I understood that this was going to be a process. I understood that it was going to take lots of time to get better. That doesn’t mean I had to be happy, or positive, or jovial while going through it. Going through it flat out sucked. There were days upon days where I just sat in the kitchen with my head on the table with my bucket on the floor so I can spit and drool in it. In the middle of the night I would just quit trying to sleep and go sit on the toilet for hours with a spit cup and a roll of paper towels. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt, like, days, etc. etc. Horrible.

Social media and support from others was getting annoying. Let me preface what I am about to say by stating that I truly appreciate everyone who sent me a message or has a genuine concern for me. I really do. I love every one of you who reached out to me. With that being said, I cannot tell you how annoying it is to read and answer the exact same message over and over literally hundreds of times. I can’t tell you how many times I got the message…

“Hey Kyle, just checking in on you. How is the treatment going? It is over right? You getting any better? How are you feeling? I love you, get back to me soon.”

Like I said, I really, really appreciate that message and that concern. I know it is because you care. But when I am feeling like shit, I don’t want to be reminded that I feel like shit, and I don’t want to have to respond by stating that I am feeling like shit. I was tired of talking about cancer. I didn’t want to talk at all. So if you sent me that message and I did not respond… don’t take it personal. I just read it sooooo many times and I was just tired of it.

So after a week of treatment, I had gotten no better. Two weeks after treatment, same thing. Three weeks after treatment, still no significant improvement. If I coughed up enough phlegm, made myself spit, and wiped away some drool… there was a two second window where I could take a very small sip (not even half of a gulp) of water. After the water went down, it would burn my throat and my ears very bad. That was my level of improvement after three weeks. I saw Dr. Nakajima last week and he told me that I am going to turn a corner, and start to come around. When I asked him when, he responded by saying… “Soon.” Let me just say I hate the word soon. If you are coming to my house, tell me what time you are going to be there. Don’t say “soon.” If I am meeting someone somewhere, going to eat, or doing anything else, I need to specifically know when. The word “soon” might as well mean “anytime” or “I don’t know.” I took it for what it was though.

This past weekend I told myself that it was time to kick my depression and try to be more optimistic. Maecee came over and hung out with me. Abby took me for a drive in the country. Even before I was sick we always went for drives in the country. We would drive around for hours… looking at the scenery, old houses, and just enjoy being outside. And the whole time we would be in the car we wouldn’t say a word to each other. I guess it didn’t matter that I could not talk this time.

I noticed this weekend that the phlegm in my mouth started to thin, and it wasn’t as much as before. I could take sips of water for longer periods of time (Like for two seconds instead of one). I was sloooooooowly improving. Even though it hurt I tried to talk, and you can almost understand what I was saying. I was finally turning the corner.

Monday and Tuesday, the phlegm was less and less. It was like there was no improvement for three weeks straight… then all of a sudden for three days straight I saw significant improvements. Same thing goes for my speaking. I could actually be understood (even though I sound crazy), and could have a short conversation. Same goes with the drinking. After a small prep, I could take like three to four gulps of water.

So that is it. I feel like I am turning a corner. Finally! I have a whole bunch of baby food that I bought that I am going to try to start eating on Thursday. Believe me, even though I cannot taste it, I am TIRED of Jevity. I am tired of smelling it. While I appreciate it for keeping me alive, it is time to move on from it! I feel like this is it. I feel like I am close to making some real progress towards normalcy. Once I start eating and have the ability to maintain my weight by mouth, I can have this feeding tube taken out of my stomach. Once I get this tube out I can get some sleep and get back in the gym. If you really knew me before this, you know how important the gym is to me. I wasn’t like a bodybuilder or anything, but I really love going to the gym. It gets my mind right and keeps my body right. I went to the gym 5 days a week every week. It is just something that I loved to do. I cannot wait to get back to that! I cannot wait to build my body back up, and to compete in sports that I love again.

Anyway… that is all for now. If you made it up to this point, thank you. I will update you on my progress soon.

Love,

Kyle

It is 3:18 PM. I am sitting at the kitchen table. A lot of people have been asking me when I am going to update the blog, and why has it been so long, etc. etc. Quite honestly, I don’t really feel like updating the blog. I’m tired. I am tired of having cancer, talking about cancer, and everything else cancer related. Sometimes I don’t think people really understand what I am going through over here. I understand how my blog may be like a little reality show to some. They can tune in for a little, read a few words, see a few pictures, watch a couple videos, then log out and go about their regular day. Not for me though. This is my life. I have cancer and have to go through all of the struggles of cancer for 24 hours a day, every day.


With that being said, it was my idea to start the blog so I will keep it going. As of today I am completely finished with my cancer treatment. I have done all 35 radiation treatments as well as all 3 chemotherapy treatments. I can no longer talk. I can no longer eat or drink through my mouth. I cannot sleep, even though I am always so tired. It is because I have an abundance of phlegm in my mouth. I spit literally 24 hours a day. When I sleep, the phlegm builds up in my mouth to the point where the airway in my throat gets blocked, causing me to choke. So every night while I am “sleeping” for a few minutes, my airway eventually gets blocked with phlegm and I eventually wake up choking. It sucks.


After my last chemotherapy session I had to go the emergency room that following Friday night. I felt like death. Literally felt like nothing. I really didn’t give a fuck. Rest in peace sounded so good. Turns out my while blood cell count was low and I was dehydrated. After 5 hours of doing what they had to do, the doctors got my levels to where they needed to be and I was able to go home. On this past Sunday night I had to go back to the ER because I had a fever of 102. After more bloodwork, more tests, more this, more that, and another 6 hours, I was able to go home. I really hate cancer and this whole process.


I feel like I have now gone through the post chemotherapy wall. After I received my last radiation treatment, my doctor said that right now is as worst as I am going to feel. And quite honestly, I feel weak and like shit. My doctor said it is all recovery and should be all uphill from here on out. I hope so. My mouth, gums, and tongue, feel like I have been tattooed on the inside. It just hurts so damn bad. There is nothing I can do for it but wait. The only way I communicate with people is through this text to speech application that I have on my phone. It speaks whatever I type. I still throw up every day. Eating through my tube only is getting really, really old. I am tired of them damn Jevity cans. I have no other choice though. It is either get nutrition that way or get no nutrition at all. Just think back to a few weeks ago when I said I was upset that I did not have the ability to taste. I had no idea it could get worse than that… but not having the ability to eat at all proved me wrong.


So for now, I just have to be patient. My abilities should begin to come back and I should be back to relative normalcy… at some point. My doctor said it could be weeks, or it could be months. I just have to keep doing what I have to do. This just sucks. Just remember when your Hoops for Hope t-shirt is in the laundry and you have logged off of my blog, your boy is still over here really going through it.
…


Throughout this process I always wondered why I was chosen for this. If you know me as a person, you know I never took anything for granted and you know I appreciate every little thing that has ever been done for me. Was it because I had the ability to tell the story? Man… forget this story! This is a story that shouldn’t have to be told. This story really sucks. Was it because I’m resilient, strong, blah, blah, blah. How about we just skip all of that and let me continue to be healthy? Was it because of some greater purpose other than myself? Would I die of cancer, leading my daughter to cure it? To be honest, I would not want to be a martyr. If someone asked me if I was willing to die of cancer knowing that it would be my daughter who would cure cancer for all of humanity, I would say absolutely not. My daughter only has one father, and that is me. If she would cure cancer, she still wouldn’t have me. She needs me. Even if she would cure cancer, there would be some new disease that will eventually evolve and attempt to wipe out humanity. So I continued to ask myself, why me?


After my last radiation treatment, it finally came to me. As my silent partner and I walked out of the cancer center for what was my last treatment and hopefully the final time, I looked over at her and she completely burst into tears. Why is this so significant? This woman has NEVER showed any emotion throughout this entire process. And when I say no emotion, I mean NO EMOTION. She was so solid. She never made a sad face, negative remark, or had frustrated body language. Everything was positive. Everything was resolution focused. I guess that moment signified the end, and she just couldn’t take it anymore. Everything she must have been holding in trying to be strong for me came pouring out the second that the treatment was over.


When I looked over and saw her crying, I completely lost it. I finally had a chance to be the man and console her after she held me down for all of this time, but I really messed up the moment. I have been such an emotional wreck during this entire process. I wanted to give her a hug, have her lay her head on my chest, and tell her everything was going to be ok. But instead I of course I started crying my eyes out… which led to snot coming out of my nose… which led to me coughing and eventually throwing up all over myself.  What a shame. So she immediately went from crying and showing emotion to taking care of me again.


That moment made everything clear to me. Sure this story can be about resiliency, toughness, fight, bringing a community together, among many other things. To me though… this is a love story. That woman showed me what true and unequivocal unconditional love is. While I am sure other people may have had the ability to do what she did for me and others… she is the one that did it. She saved my life. She was with me every step of the way. I never had someone sacrifice so much for me. That is love. I found my angel. I am so grateful for you Abby, and I plan on sharing the rest of my life with you. You never have to worry about anything when it comes to me. I will never look at another woman, talk to another woman, or take interest in another woman. You have earned a special and sacred place in my heart, and it will never be able to be accessed by anyone else. You are my best friend, my confidant, and my everything. I mean I cared about you before cancer, but this experience really put us and you in a different place. I am just so thankful you. You are my partner for life. Thank you.


Everyone else… thank you for tuning into this little reality show. I will update this again with my positive progression, I promise.




-Kyle