The Trilogy; The final chapter of a 20-year journey

The diagnosis, The surgeries, Finishing radiation

I never felt like I had really done anything to become a brain cancer survivor. Like it wasn’t as if I had done something special. I was just there doing my best to get through this surreal situation.

I did take charge of the situation from the beginning. Never admitting to myself that it was as bad as it looked. Some might call this denial, but I prefer to call it manifesting success. I wanted to see myself as a survivor.

Nothing more than that. Not a victim. No soul searching. No feeling like I needed to live every day as if it was my last. No reflecting all my life of 41 years. Just being a survivor.

There were decisions to be made. I realized the first step of becoming a survivor was to do some research. Part of this next step was to realize that I needed to find my doctor and be decisive about who I chose.   

The one thing that I felt that I did achieve was to keep living my life the way I always had and that helped me believe that I would come out the other side. I also made a conscious effort to show everyone else that I was doing this without speaking about it.

I speak about it now and have been speaking about it over a period of many years as I feel it is important for people to hear about it. To hear my story, yes, but to relate my story of impossible odds to their own. Or to see this story and share it with someone who could use it.

These situations are difficult, complex, nuanced and scary. There is no simple or direct way to approach how to respond to your situation. Because every situation in a cancer diagnosis is different.

What type of cancer? How does it respond to treatment? Should I ask ‘What are my likely odds’? Do I want to know the answer to that? No one knows what it’s like for you. Because there is only one you.

The last decision that I needed to make was to have radiation. This was an easy decision as I was told that in my case this would be painless. I would have to go five days a week for 30 treatments.

I was told that there would be two side effects. The first was a short-term situation of becoming increasingly tired and run-down as treatment progressed. The other would be a lifelong mutation of my hair follicles on the left side of my head.    

I mostly recovered from the fatigue within a couple of months. The hair loss didn’t bother me if it meant long term success as that was the only thing that mattered. On some days I looked at it as a badge of honor, like the huge scar that it barely concealed.

This treatment was the last piece of the puzzle needed to move on with the rest of my life. I needed to celebrate the occasion in fine fashion, and I knew just the proper way of doing it.

Pittsburgh Penguins legend Mario Lemieux gave me the inspiration for my celebration idea. He went through radiation and decided that he would play the night that he finished his treatments.    *See attached story from 2017 below

This vision was exactly what I needed. I would ski on my last day (6/3/24) of radiation.

As a long-time back country skier, my answer to the celebration was clear. I enlisted my ski partner Dave to be there, and he was more than willing to join me. I also invited several others to join us.

In the end… It was one of the most memorable days of my journey. Several people showed up to join in the festivities to celebrate and this all made me feel like I was going to be a survivor.

Now, here I am…where I never thought I’d be as I skied down that first run 20 years ago today!   

 

 

* Skiing to Celebrate my Anniversary

When I moved to Port Angeles, Washington in 1991 I carried the memories of witnessing game two of the Stanley Cup Finals. This was the game that Mario Lemieux made the iconic goal against the Minnesota North Stars that changed the series and lifted Mario into legendary status with his performance. What we saw as impossible to achieve…he brought to reality via pure will and creativity.

In 1993 he was living his life as the hero and savior of Penguins Hockey after leading his team to back-to-back Stanley Cups Titles. He was having another strong year, crushing the scoring competition with his incredible play.

Then…he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease…Cancer. Although it is a less problematic type of cancer…with a five-year survival rate today of 81 percent…it is still cancer. With treatments that included radiation.

On March 2nd, 1993, Mario finished radiation and booked a charter flight in order to play that night in Philadelphia. He scored a goal and assisted on another. Amazing…

In November of 2003 I had a seizure to alert me to the fact that I had something inside my head that didn’t belong there, a brain tumor. With my confidence in the medical facilities in Pittsburgh and the support of my family, I chose to have surgery there.

After hearing ‘it’s worse than we thought’ in regard to the level of concern the tumor presented, I opted for an advised second surgery. Everything went well and I am thankful for the level of care that I received.

I received my radiation treatments when I returned home to Washington. As my treatments were wrapping up, I remembered Mario’s story and thought about the possibility of using it for motivation.

It was in that tradition that I chose to do… what I wish I did as well as Mario played hockey…ski. We typically have snow in June, and I thought ‘why not?’.  With this inspiration I skied the afternoon of my last day of radiation with several friends…and had a blast.  On June 3rd I was able to ski on the 13th anniversary…a yearly tradition. (conditions permitting)

At the bottom of the run...Klahanie Ridge. It was like skiing inside a ping-pong ball...but hey...it was skiing.

At the bottom of the run…Klahanie Ridge. It was like skiing inside a ping-pong ball…but hey…it was skiing.

Mario went on to do all he could to keep the Penguins in Pittsburgh as part owner and now they have the most successful team in the league. (Five Cups!) He also created the Mario Lemieux Foundation. He is now 22 years cancer free and devotes much of his time at the Foundation raising funds for to help reach the ultimate goal: a cure for cancer.

His approach to hand that he was dealt again motivated me. I have been a lifetime fan of using the natural world as my playground and sanctuary. I had years of experience in outdoor recreation and leading others to expand their appreciation of our natural world.

With this history I created Survivor’s Outdoor Experience. Our programming is directed towards the ultimate goal of giving participants strength, hope and a sense of the future.

It is a personal journey to fight this disease known as cancer and we all have our path. Mario used winning the scoring title as his motivation (he did win it) and I used it to get back to normal as mine. With the inspiration of his story.

Thanks & Congrats, Mario.

 

 

 

IT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO TODAY!

“It was twenty years today” was the famous quote from the Beatles Seargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. My twenty years ago today has a slightly different meaning.

This is the day (2/19/04) that I was released from the hospital…for the second time. I was back in the hospital to have a re-resection I might add.

Two weeks earlier I had the most extraordinary five day stretch of my life (1/31/04-2/04/04). Day four was the day that I had a cancerous brain tumor resected from my head. The surgery was deemed a success.  

This day had been scheduled since the beginning of January after making the appointment with the surgeon, Doctor Ghassan Bejjani.  

Let me explain the five-day period. Day one was the craniotomy…cracking the egg. Day two was motor mapping…testing that all bad and only bad tissue would be removed. Day three the surgeon had another surgery. Day four was the surgery, and day five I was released from the hospital.

Yes, I was released from the ICU to the car to have dinner at home that night. I don’t know if he had that much confidence in me or himself.

It was great to move on and deal with the next step. However, the next step was a step back. I went back to get the staples removed and was told “it’s worse than we thought”.

And that is why I had that second surgery. That original surgery was not quite the success as first thought. But the second one was.

Now I find myself in a different situation. I had chosen to do radiation. I felt that this was my only choice for long-term survival. Then I could deal with the consequences from the long-term effects of not only radiation damage, but from the damage of the surgery itself.

Say 19 years down the road.

We have known that I have been incurring brain damage due to the radiation over time. I have not shown much outward or noticeable signs of this, but I can tell.

Throughout my 20 year-stretch I have had what I would call micro neuro episodes. My neuro oncologist extraordinaire, Doctor Lynne Taylor says to just call them what they are… mini seizures.

During a visit with her several years ago, she had suggested that I begin taking anti-seizure medication. At the time, I did not due to the cost of medication and the infrequency of these events. The severity also seemed to be in check.

A year ago, however, I experienced four of them in only a two-week time period with two of them having a slightly higher impact on my body. I have never lost consciousness and know what is taking place throughout.

I have learned the feelings in my body prior to the event and I am typically completely over them within two hours. Sometimes they are not very intense but occasionally they were, and the overall feeling is that it was time for a change.

I had a visit with Doctor Taylor and began taking anti-seizure medication on 1/21/23 and since then, have been dealing with the repercussions of the events and of the side effects of the medication.

It took some time to get the level of medications figured out, a process I am still working on. But now I have been stable for over four months.

I have looked at it this way…there really isn’t much of a difference between an injury and an acute medical situation…many times it takes four to six weeks to heal or correct itself.

But with a long-term chronic situation…the longer something goes unchecked (19 years) the longer it’s likely to take to correct.

And if we go back to the injury analysis…maybe a young guy would be as good as new in four to six weeks…but I am no longer a young guy.

I do feel young for my age but it’s not the same as actually being young.   

Many of you know what it is like to go from no medications to starting a ‘rest of your life’ daily regimen. It can be problematic getting all the moving parts to align.

I know that I am likely to be ‘playing’ with medications a little bit. But I can even go for a compromise…It would be nice to not address this as an ongoing part of my life.

And I do not underestimate the power of those 20 years in my rear-view mirror.

I am not writing this because I need to get it off my chest. I have already been through that, and it is a good idea even if you write it to yourself.

I am doing it because I feel that others may need to know that they are not alone in their struggles.

Stay strong!

 

Cheers,

Jack