FEAR

Cancer is full of fear.  It starts before diagnoses.  Just the possibility of having cancer is scary.  And once you are diagnosed with the disease, fear becomes a part of you.  Fear inhabits your daily life.  It ebbs and flows with treatment, what your read on the internet, how people around you act, what your doctors are telling you, and how you physically feel.

Fear comes from the unknown.  Will I die?  When will I die?  How long do I have?  Is this treatment working?  Am I doing all that I can or should be doing to fight death?  

Truth is, we can all ask those questions - with or without cancer - and no one knows the answers!  No one on this earth knows what will happen tomorrow.

I think about fear.  I have been thinking about it a lot recently.  What is fear?  Why am I afraid?  I am afraid of death, but what does that mean?  Why?

I talked to my 96 year old grandfather recently, thinking that he must surely contemplate these thoughts.  He explained to me that no one here is privileged enough to know what lies on the other side but that he is sure there is nothing to fear - death will not be painful.

I'm not worried about the pain of death.  Physical pain doesn't scare me.  I used to cry a lot thinking of those I would leave behind and their sorrow.  My mom, my dad, my sisters.  All of my friends and family.  But, that has passed.  I know that they would all be just fine.

So what about ME?  Why would I be scared??  It's not the fear of pain.  Not the fear of hurting others.  My 96 year old grandfather doesn't seem worried about a thing.  Then again, he has lived a pretty complete life.  I am only 35.  Generations ago living past 35 was considered a very full life.  Maybe I need to rest my hat on that and let the fear go.  Well, that is kind of my answer.  My grandfather has well outlived expectations, but at 35, I am much too young to die based on current average lifespans.  Leaving this young would not be considered a "full" life.  And that's it - I am scared that I have not lived a full life.  That I am not living a full life.  I have not done all that I want to do.  That is where my fear comes from.

A number of years ago I went to Burning Man, a very "unconventional gathering" of 50,000+  people held in the Nevada desert every summer.  Before heading to the dessert, a Burning Man veteran that I met while shopping for supplies in Reno said this to me, upon learning that is was my first time to the "playa" - "Experience everything!  If you want to climb something, climb it! If you want to talk to someone approach them.  If you want to ride on something go ride it!  Experience as much as you can!"

In the Burning Man of life I have not yet experienced enough.  I have not tasted all that I want to taste and explored all that I want to explore.  That is what makes me afraid.

My fear is with me daily, but not too often in a teary way, more as a reminder to live the life I've always wanted RIGHT NOW.  I want to live a life of significance, of exploration, of experience, of love.  I have refocused the value of my days.  I want all the experiences that life has to offer!  If I am outside, enjoying family and friends, creating something, doing something new, exploring a new place, climbing what I want to climb, smiling at strangers like I never have, striking up random conversation, doing my best to make the world a better place, eating well, exercising, waking up earlier, getting stronger, hugging more, saying I LOVE YOU - then I am unafraid.  I am alive!  I am living the way that I should be.  The fear has shown me the value of each day and the joy and happiness it can provide.  Fear is natural - especially under my circumstances - but there is a lot to be learned from it.  Our time is short.  What would you do today if it was your last?  If you had one month left? Six months? Six years?

DO MORE.  EXPERIENCE MORE.  We all only get one shot at this life - enjoy it!  

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing" - Hellen Keller

"You only live once, but if you do it right once is enough" - Mae West

"In the end its not the years in your life, but the life in your years" - Lincoln

Send It!

Jamie Schou

More Cancer Stuff

I know.  I haven't blogged in forever!  Sorry, just been busy I guess.

I'm just coming out of the haze of my most recent chemo and thought I'd get some thoughts down and an update in.

I forget when exactly I blogged last (I could look a page over and find out, but its easier just to write this).  I will start from my chemo treatment in early December.

I went in Dec 5th for scans and found that while most of the tumors in my lungs were stable or shrinking there was one stubborn tumor that had continued to grow from 9 to 10 cms (kind of a big something to have living in your lung).  The doctors in LA suggested researching radiation as an option for the big guy, but didn't really have a firm plan or idea of what that process would look like and left me on my own to figure it out.  Dr. Jamie had to step in again and make super important health decisions - I should get some kind of fucking degree after all of this, maybe like Dr of cancer from University of Phoenix or something.  I mean shit, sometimes the doctors just disappear from decision making and leave you on your own to gather information, decipher it and make what I would call PRETTY FUCKING IMPORTANT treatment decisions.  Do I seem frustrated?  I'm not.  Really.  I have my University of Phoenix Cancer Decision Making Degree so I'm all good.

* Quick side note - in all honesty the decision making process with this is extremely challenging as you are at times trying to decipher information that is way above your knowledge base.  My friend Jason Horn is fundraising to fund a position for a "Patient Navigator" at Walter Reed Military Medical Center.  In my opinion this would be a amazingly helpful position for the members of our military.  Please give if you feel so inclined.  Link at the bottom.

Over a week was consumed sending patient info, scans, and images from one place to another, getting appointments and finally I consulted with a couple of doctors.  The initial suggested treatment was 25 doses of radiation over 25 days but I found a radiation oncologist at UCSF that would use a high dose treatment of 8 doses over 8 days.  Good guy.  The 8 day dose wouldn't interfere with the chemo as much so I can keep blasting the rest of those fuckers. I wish I could just get in there and duke it out with them.  It would be like Diggstown; one man vs 30 tumors (I'm Honey Roy Palmer of course).  I'd punch them out one at a time.  Mano e tumero.  The last and largest tumor to fight would just fold over when I put my thumb down like a Roman king at a gladiator match.  Well, damn technology and medical advancements haven't caught up to my preferred cancer fighting techniques so back to what's really happening..... (I hope someone gets the Diggstown reference - Dave Denicke? John Cahalan?)

The radiation wasn't scheduled to start until after the new year so I continued with my scheduled chemo on Dec 26/27 (merry christmas to me).  I spent a week recovering from chemo, skied a day or two and started the radiation treatment in SF.

I was given 3 weeks off after radiation to "washout" and then jumped back into chemo last week, Feb 6/7.  And here we are.

Most of december was eaten up with 2 chemo treatments, Dr.'s visits and consults to figure out the radiation deal, and of course christmas.   So, January was my time to get back to doing shit.  I got radiation out of the way and immediately went to Lodi to do some skydiving.  My goal is to get my AFF - not sure what that stands for but means you can jump out of a plane on your own.  After a class and a few solo jumps - with an instructor hanging on to me - I learned that I suck at skydiving.  Obviously I pulled the ripcord just fine, and I did just fine at flying the parachute and landing, but turns out my tall lanky body is hard to control when falling out of the sky.  The whole concept sounds easy; jump out of plane, pull parachute. Turns out there is some skill involved and it it not just a sport of guts.  I had higher expectations for myself and felt some major disappointment with my flight progress, but I'l just have to revisit that one at a later date.

January also gave me some time to get back to skiing.  My first ski experience of the month was a total failure.  I had been through chemo recently and a number of radiation doses and I just couldn't do it.  I had to stop and catch my breath 3 times just walking from the parking lot to the ski lift.  On each run I had to stop repeatedly to catch my breathe, rest my legs, and at times it felt like I had to sit down as my whole body was giving out.  I skied 3 runs, cried a little and decided it was time to go home.

I felt like everything had been taken from me at that point.  My ability to do so much has been compromised and now skiing was being taken from me.  Skiing is a sport that I love dearly and that I receive extreme joy from.  I could not lose this.  Skiing would become my motivator to get strong again.

I took the 3 weeks post radiation and I did just that.  I skied and hit the gym.  I needed to take skiing back and all in all it was a success.  There is a long road to getting where I want to be (in so many things) but I saw great improvement in a couple weeks and I look forward to continuing improvement during my 2 weeks of feeling good now.   I am so lucky to have these sports that I love to keep me motivated to move.   It is challenging to always be reaching for something, but I am truly convinced that this is what keeps me strong in all of this.

I want to give this gift of motivation to others....which is the adventure plan for the coming months.

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing" - Helen Keller

Thanks for taking a few minutes to read my ramblings.   Send It!!!

-Jamie

Help Jason support our troops in medical need -

https://www.z2systems.com/np/clients/ulman/campaign.jsp?campaign=400&fundraiser=755086&team=116