Survival is a Sport

I just got back from a Kings game, and even though the team was beaten (badly) by a very skilled Detroit Red Wings team, the game got me thinking.

My love of sports and the lessons I've learned from them were essential to my survival.

From the first moment I learned about my diagnosis, I treated my battle with cancer like a competition. The ultimate competition really. It was WunderGlo vs. Stage IV Colon Cancer, and I wasn't about to lose.

I treated every part of my treatment as a physical challenge -- a sport, if you will. Chemo, for example, required lots of preparation - mentally (meditating and envisioning the cancer-killing medicine doing its job), physically (loading up on healthy food before chemo days just in case my appetite waned, hitting the weights before, during and after treatment days), and spiritually (truly believing that I had the power to achieve my chosen destiny).

Surgery was even more of a sport. Like Rocky, I trained like a beast for surgery. Lifting weights, jogging, meditating, praying -- all "practice" for the big day.

And now, post-op, I see the recovery process and the preparation for my next three months of chemo through a sporty lens, as well. I'm like Duke's brilliant point guard, Kyrie Irving, who is undergoing physical therapy for his injured big toe that has kept him on the sidelines for most of the season. Like this sensational athlete, I, too, am rehabbing. Slowly but surely, without pushing myself too hard, I'm making my comeback and getting stronger every day.

Some people say that basketball or baseball or hockey is "just a game." But sports aren't just a game. Sports can teach you important, life-saving lessons, instilling in you the correct mental mindset that will propel you forward physically. I credit my years as an athlete (your pal WunderGlo was quite the basketball and volleyball player) and my love of sports for fostering in me the competitive spirit, physical toughness, discipline, and determination that led to my decisive victory over cancer.

So no matter what you're facing -- a disease or a rough patch in your life or just a "blah" period -- get your head in the game and get going. We all have the potential to be a champion within us.

Getting Better Is Hard Work

Although I thoroughly beat down cancer during my 11 hour “pick it out/pour it in” surgery and despite the fact I’m feeling better each day, I must tell you one thing: getting better is hard work. Nursing the wounds, adjusting to my transformed body, and nourishing myself with sufficient food and drink has been somewhat of a challenge, and it’s worth mentioning especially for those who might go through this surgery or a similar one.

Getting better -- and by getting better, I mean bouncing back to full strength -- is not a walk in the park. It’s more like a brisk jog through the park on a particularly chilly day. One of those jogs that burns your lungs a little bit. I’m not trying to play to your sympathies at all -- heck, I’m still in a park. It’s just not one of those sauntering walks where you smell the flowers and soak up the sun and wander aimlessly. I have a goal and an aim, and I’m busting my butt to get to it.

The first challenge is dealing with food. When I first got out of the hospital, I didn’t have much of an appetite at all. A few things sounded tasty to me, but once I had a couple of bites of said tasty things, I was stuffed. I could also go hours and hours without feeling hungry, so eating was much more of a chore than it’s ever been before. As a result, I’ve lost some weight -- about 11 pounds.

Patience is key here. As the days go by, things will and have improved. My appetite is building, my desire for a wider range of foods is strengthening, and I know that in a matter of weeks, I’ll be putting good solid weight back on my beastly frame. I have no doubt that when I get to the gym -- a goal I have reserved for the week after next, after my sutures come out -- I will start to build my body back, and build it up even better this time. I’m at peace with the fact that I just can’t eat a lot, and my muscles are shrinking a bit as a result. I’ve probably still got bigger guns than a lot of folks, so I’m not too distressed.

The second big challenge is managing these wounds. The only real discomfort I get from them is when I can feel them. They don’t throb, there’s no stinging pain, and there’s no leakage of fluid from any of these battle scars. But sometimes, I can just feel the wounds and the scabs that have grown around them, and only then do I realize the gravity of what happened to me just a few weeks ago. I gritted my teeth through quite the physical ordeal, and now I’m left with the nagging discomfort of those soon-to-be scars.

And finally, going to the bathroom. You know I always focus on pooping, so why not mention it now? Things are not the way they were in the bathroom arena, and my body is slowly -- slowly -- getting back to normal. Going number two is not a mindless, easy task after the “pick it out/pour it in” surgery -- it takes patience, enduring of temporary gas pains all throughout the gut, and time. It gets a little annoying when nature calls at 6am and all I want to do is sleep but I have to spend 20 minutes in the bathroom. This, too -- like my bowel movements -- shall pass.

The fact that these are the only slight discomforts I’m feeling after the colossal physical endeavor makes me feel incredibly fortunate. If this is all that I have to deal with after conquering cancer, I’m beyond game for it. My shoes are laced up and I’m jogging through that park. But I do look forward to that stroll soon.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: my annihilation of cancer and my super-quick recovery is, in part, because of the love and support that I've received from family, friends, colleagues, and blog readers -- even those of you whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting in person. The prayers, well wishes, and good vibes that you've sent me over the past several months have not gone unnoticed. They buoy my spirits in times of struggle or pain (which is not often, fortunately) and they supercharge me during times I'm feeling strong and happy (which is all of the time, (also) fortunately). 

Today, I got a special dose of that supercharging power, as my parents opened their home, welcoming any and all family and friends who wanted to pay me a visit after my East Coast extravaganza. My great aunt and my second cousin arrived first, bringing a delicious gift from Edible Arrangements and chatting me up about my cancer-killing adventures. After that, my best friend Tim swung by -- I don't think I'd given my stomach as thorough of a laughter-based workout until this afternoon with my little Timmy. As always, we had a great time. My friend and colleague Carlos came next and I had a great time showing him my scars and telling stories about my adventures at the hospital. Then, my parents' friends Bob and Lore stopped by and lifted my spirits by telling me how much the blog had impacted and inspired them, which is always so gratifying to hear. About an hour later, my best friend from middle school, Nick, arrived -- the laughter-based tummy workout continued. And finally, my friend Dan dropped in for dinner and an impromptu screening of Steel Magnolias. Nobody knows all of the dialogue to Steel Magnolias better than Nick and Dan, so watching the movie with both of them was a serious treat.

Oh yeah, and it snowed at my parents' house in Burbank this afternoon. Shocking and marvelous, it was a definite first for me and probably most people in the city. Of course, I had to jump smack in the middle of it. Living life in super-HDTV requires nothing less!

Although I'm a little sleepy now, after a full day of hanging out, I feel more revitalized than ever. Friendship is truly the stuff that powers the spirit, and, in my case, a strong spirit equals a strong body. 

A true testament to the healing power of love and friendship: I took my first pain pill at 10pm.

The warm, fuzzy good times will keep coming tomorrow. My family is coming over, and I can't wait to see them. So far, being back home has been truly blissful.

First Day Back

First day back in L.A.

Slept in. Ate breakfast. Got my hair cut. Bought vegan, gluten-free cupcakes. Surprise trip to the 13th floor of O'Melveny & Myers. Hung out with awesome colleagues. Showed off abdominal scars. Gave and received dozens of hugs. Fought traffic back to my parents' house. Ate pasta, a veggie hot dog, and toast. Spent quality time with my grandma, great-aunt, and good friend Anna. Fell asleep while watching a scary movie with Will, bundled in blankets.

First day back home. Awesome.

Home Sweet Home

After a great travel day, I'm home. Los Angeles, I've missed you so much. Family and friends, I've missed you even more! It feels so good to be home.

It's been an emotional homecoming for me. I teared up multiple times on the flight home, shedding little tears of joy. The surgery chapter of this cancer-killing saga is closed, and so is the East Coast-based part of my treatment and recovery. I achieved everything I set out to do during my journey East, and my reward -- returning home, cancer-free -- is sweeter than I could ever have imagined.

The next chapter of my cancer-killing saga, which includes fully bouncing back from surgery and stomping on cancer's face with three more months of chemo, will take place in the City of Angels. And I couldn't be happier about that.

I'm very excited about the Welcome Home parties and get togethers, which will start almost immediately and extend into the weeks and month to come. I can't wait for those moments of pure joy when I'm reunited with all of my loved ones.

But first, I'm going to indulge in some deep, delicious sleep.