I got some great news today. 5 cancer spots appeared last time they did an MRI, only 1 is there now. We'll learn more next month on the 20th. I have a full MRI schedule, but 4 spots gone after 1 treatment. I just finished #2 and I am TIRED. It went really well though. Tonight we celebrated Christmas at Ma's and Bub's. The food was to die for. It was fun. Sang songs and opened presents. I got my two front teeth. j/k Ryan. So, everything is going well for me. Go Grandpa Go!!
Here two great examples of perspectives:
I'll start out by saying that many times it is hard to know if I should be asking you the difficult questions, or without seeing or talking to you everyday, not knowing maybe if you'd gotten some bad news or something that day, if even asking how are you doing, how have you been, is appropriate. Going back to the beginning, when I first heard you had a tumor, I wasn't overly concerned. Maybe it was being naive, maybe it was what I'd heard from you, your dad, Tim and Kay, that the doctors assuring that everything was going to be fine, and that you'd be back on your feet in no time. Plus you get a false sense of security sometimes that, our family is a good, Christian family, and God wouldn't let bad things happen to anyone in our family.
Even after the surgery, when they found out the tumor was cancerous, it was like, ok, they are confident they've removed everything, and the chemo is just a matter of making sure everything gets cleaned up. It's been hard to watch the physical aspect. It's hard watching someone you grew up with, and hung out with, and played on the tractors with at grandpa and grandma's, and took shortcuts with on the bike ride, all of a sudden struggle to walk to the bathroom, and really have to concentrate to speak clearly enough to understand. Again without knowing what to expect, maybe my expectations of seeing progress were unrealistic. I realize the side effects in your case are in the very small percentile of those that have had this surgery, but sometimes it has been discouraging to see. I'm sure at times it's been 10 times as hard for you. I guess I've been too scared to ask questions like, have the doctors given you a chances of survival percentage? Like are they 90% sure you'll survive this, or is it more like 70/30, 50/50?? If this new procedure doesn't work, are there still other alternatives or options to try? What's the likelihood that you will get back to being able to walk without assistance, or play ball again, driving, running, etc.? And is there a timeframe on that?
It's also been hard because it seem like there's just been so many setbacks that it seems like every time it looks as if the situation is or has improved, something else comes up that knocks you back. It's hard sometimes not to wonder if this is ever going to get better. I think your outlook and attitude through this whole situation has been amazing. I don't think I would be as positive about life as you are if our situations were reversed. No matter what kind of curves are thrown at you, you just seem to get up, dust yourself off, and move forward. I also admire you for continuing to do the things that make you happy, traveling, continuing your education, visiting family and friends whenever possible, fantasy football and baseball, etc. etc. etc. You seem very determined that no matter what, you letting this get you down. Maybe doing these other things helps you take your mind off of it too. I mean, you have to deal with it every second of every day. You need to try to do these other things probably to keep you from going crazy. I know that me growing up in Lewiston and you growing up in Chaska, that we aren’t best friends like maybe Kels and Tor, and you probably have friends that you confide in more than you would be, but I'll just say that anytime you need anything, a ride somewhere, someone to go get something to eat with, go to a movie, watch a ballgame, whatever, just let me know, I'd be more than happy to do it. Not a lot else to say I guess. Kind of rambling here. Just wanted to say that there isn't a day goes by that I don't think about you and pray for you and hope like hell that you get through this. Hang in there and keep on fighting. Take care buddy.
An e-mail obviously wouldn't do justice to this subject for me. You have always been my BEST friend. I could probably write over a thousand pages about how much you have inspired me and changed the way I look at so many things in life from August 1, 2005 to present. I could probably write over a million pages chronicling our lives together from about 1985 to present. Just about every single memory I have growing up involves you. My three brothers, Jeremy, Jon, and Justin, have made me who I am today.
I really believe it was God's plan for me start my business (RevWrestling.com) if for no other reason than because it allowed me the flexibility to spend just about every day with my BEST friend. Honestly, I couldn't ask for a greater gift.
We are going to beat this cancer like Mike Tyson used to beat his opponents before Buster Douglas. Or like Johan Santana, Ben Askren, and Georges St. Pierre dominate their opponents now. Or like the Eden Prairie Apples are going to whoop Go Twins in our next SimLeague!
Thanks for being my BEST friend, JJ. Talk to you soon, buddy!
Believe me, there is no hurry placed here. Instead can I get your questions, place your feelings at different points, from being diagnosed, to surgery, to radiation, to chemo, cancer coming back, etc. All of these have been great obstacles in my life. If you cannot remember that far back, don't worry. Love yall. Thanks.