Sunday, May 29, 2011

Cancer - The Best and The Worst

The subject alone is probably enough to make people think, "WTF!" I'm serious though, cancer is both the best and the worst thing to happen to me ever.

The worst?

Cancer took my dad. How much closer can it get when you lose someone you love so dearly and there's nothing you could do to stop it? For me, I don't have questions of "what if?". There's no pondering "if only...". I can't change what happened. I can't go back. There's nothing but going forward without my dad and that hurts.

Just my dad though? No! It's not bad enough that it took my dad, it tried to take me almost 20 years ago, it tried to take my mom only a couple years ago. Cancer's a disease, it's everywhere, and it's affecting more and more of my loved ones all the time. 

And that's why I'm fighting cancer. I'm fighting cancer for myself, my loved ones, and for everyone else because someday your loved ones will be touched by cancer.

The best?

Before cancer I took life for granted; I didn't understand that there is more to life than coasting by; I never knew the good that resides in people; I judged people that were different--mentally, physically, or otherwise; I didn't have a career; and, I didn't understand the depths my parents loved me.

That all changed when I got cancer. It wasn't necessarily a fast change. I'm still changing and I like to think it's for the better. I constantly battle being different. It's not just that I think differently than a lot of people, I'm okay with that. It's the other things that I think I need to struggle against. I struggle with weight, I struggle with treating all people decently, I struggle with having compassion, I struggle with my anger, I struggle to be a good husband, and I struggle to be a good father.

A lot of the time I feel like I fail at those things. Does that mean that I'm a failure? No! It means that I understand the value of fighting against myself to be a better person. It means there's always more time to do better, be better, treat people better, and improve who I am. 

A lot of my wanting to be better and working towards that end is probably because I want to be the kind of person that I feel my family deserves. Years from now, I don't want to die with regrets. I don't want my kids to wonder about the kind of person that I was, what made me tick, or how much I love them. I want them to remember me as always there to dust them off but able to let them lead their own lives.

You may wonder what cancer has to do with the above so let me explain it. I learned the depths of my parent's love because I saw first hand what my having cancer did to them. I started my career because during chemotherapy I sat behind a keyboard all day and learned the ins-and-outs of computers. I moved to California because I found a job down there and it seemed like a fun place to be. I became tolerant of people because chemotherapy caused me to become super morbidly obese. I had surgery to lose weight in an effort to stay alive and embrace life. I met my wife because I was in the right place, at the right time, and I'd learned to embrace life. I have my kids because I bamboozled my wife into loving me--hehehe. I learned the good that resides in people because every day I meet people that touch my life in positive ways, my wife shows me examples of how to be a better person, my kids show me the innocence of children, and recently the good in people is so very obvious because of the support from people, like yourself, that read what I have to say, understand that I'm fighting cancer, and come together to support me in my fight and/or the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and their mission to find a cure for cancer and support patients and their families.

So yeah, cancer was the best thing to ever happen to me and the worst. Even so...

F U cancer, I miss my dad.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Thanks & Improvement!

I need to start off this update by telling everyone how much I appreciate your donations for Leukemia & Lymphoma society. The generosity of my family, my friends, Ashley's friends, and strangers really astounds me. To all of you out there that have donated money to the fight against cancer, whether or not that donation goes to LLS, THANK YOU! You're saving lives and I feel uplifted by what you're doing, the support you're giving, and the words that I'm hearing.

I just got in from a 11 mile night ride and I'm feeling GREAT! Strangely enough, I'm most often training at night right now. I have a trainer in the garage and I do go some days at work but I'm really enjoying the night workout. It's so peaceful and quiet with very few cars that I'm not very worried about traffic or being hit. Of course, it helps that I have some awesome lights and other gear to make me look like a huge xmas tree zooming down the road. I'm okay with that. I like cars seeing me and if the sight of a huge moving red mass makes cars back off then I'm okay with that too.

In addition to the 11 mile ride tonight, I did a 15 mile ride this past weekend that was my first group ride. It was fantastic. I love riding with a group of people but I don't often get to because of time differences but also because I'm afraid of getting dropped. I can keep a fantastic tempo but I will eventually get tired simply because I haven't trained as much as some of the others. Keep in mind that with me, my 15 lbs of bicycle locks & cables, and whatever other gear I have on the bike, I'm toting around more than 300 lbs on my bicycle. This is FAR DIFFERENT than one of those weight weenies that tries to drop all weight possible so they can climb hills better. Sure, I can drop the weight off my bike before I ride, BUT WHY? Isn't the goal to improve? How much faster will I improve if I have extra weight during training and then I ride without the extra weight? Believe me, it's REALLY noticeable. Besides, if I want to drop weight, I can DIET.

Speaking of diet! As of 2 days ago, I've lost 16 pounds since I started this training! At this rate, maybe I'll eventually look good in lycra. Okay, okay! I'm just kidding! No guys look good in lycra shorts, period. In addition to the 16 lbs lost, my mph average has gone from 11 to 15 mph. That's probably just my muscles remembering what it's like to move but it's really nice to be able to consistently power my way up hills again.

I'll keep everyone posted on my weight loss. It seems people are interested in that as well as how my training is going.

Thanks again for your support!
Kevin

Friday, May 20, 2011

Honor Ribbons

I've decided to start a new blog post that will get updated as names get added with a list of the people I'm riding to honor. These people and their struggles need to be kept in our minds so that we wont forget how devastating cancer is....

Gerald Lynn - My dad. He died from Acute Myeloid Leukemia. I'm wearing an orange arm band in memory of him.

Ashley Lynn - My wife. She's currently fighting thyroid cancer. I'll be wearing a purple arm band in her honor.

Alexis Wronzberg - A courageous woman that passed away after a long battle with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. I'm wearing an orange ribbon in her honor.

Amy Campton - Currently fighting cancer.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

After Cancer...

This work raising funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society has given me reason to think a lot about how hard cancer has been on my family, how I almost died, and how I'm so grateful for all the things I can do because I survived. The following is a list of things to be thankful for every day and a reminder that life is worth fighting for. I'm going to keep adding to it as more things come to mind.

After Cancer...

I started a career in information security.
I met my wife Ashley!
I got married!
I had two awesome kids!
I got another 17 years with my dad.
I traveled the world.
I learned what friendship truly means.
I learned about goodness being internal.
I got a bachelors degree.
I started playing football again.
I went to Thailand to train in muay thai.
I rode an elephant.
I lived in Manhattan.
I lived in Austin, TX.
I lived in Shiloh, IL.
I lived in Santa Cruz, CA.
I lived in Durham, NC.
I lived in Richmond, VA.
I started riding a bicycle again.
I joined Team in Training.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Fundraising! 16% of the way there!

I've started the fundraising part of my commitment to Team in Training and I now have a fundraising letter in my blog's pages. Many of you will also be seeing a postal mailing with the fundraising letter. I encourage you to share it with everyone you know.

Cancer is the #1 killer in the US and 1 out of 4 people have been touched by it in some way. This means that your family, your neighbors, your boss, your clergy, your handyman, essentially everyone you know may want to join the fight against cancer.

If nothing else, direct them to this site. Let them give me some encouragement as I'm rolling away the miles while riding my bike. I'm willing to accept whatever someone is willing to give as long as it's their way of helping fight cancer.

To those of you that have donated already, THANK YOU! I'm greatly encouraged by your outpouring of support.

Thanks again,
Kevin

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother's Day!

Today was mother's day and I was mostly kept busy doing stuff. We went to breakfast, had a nice long walk, played in Baker park, sprayed weed killer, set up our hammock, planted blueberries, and more. It was a very enjoyable day and my wife seemed to appreciate the efforts.

I didn't get to ride today. I was very much wanting to but it was 10:30pm by the time I had a moment where I could have ridden and my lamp wasn't charged enough for a full ride. Oh well. Hopefully I'll get a chance to ride on Monday. 

Today wasn't a waste though! I spent time this evening getting my list of names together, adding addresses,  getting email addresses, and setting up a spreadsheet for tracking my fundraising efforts. I'm currently up to 175 names of people to contact. I think within a couple days I'll be up to 200 or more.



Saturday, May 7, 2011

I Signed Up For Team in Training

When my dad was going through chemotherapy, Ashley (my wife) introduced me to Team in Training. We both wanted to do it but we had different ideas about which endurance challenge we should do. Ashley wanted to start with a half-marathon since we hadn't done anything like it before. I wanted desperately to do the cycling century but I didn't have a bicycle. I hate running. Maybe I didn't emphasize that enough. I HATE RUNNING. Even with my immense hate of running, I was willing to do a marathon in order to support my dad. I've always thought that you should go all out or not go out at all. I know that I could train for a half-marathon in a couple months so I was unwilling to take on an event that I didn't think would challenge us enough. Ashley was unwilling to take on a full marathon so we tabled it and decided to get back to it later.

Later never happened. Life got away from us and every session I'd think about what Team in Training was up to but it didn't seem as though it was the right time. I'd think, if I wait till the next session, maybe that will be the right time. Maybe we wont have kids needing my time. Maybe Ashley wont be expecting. I have a bike now, maybe next session it wont be in Arizona. There were always excuses to keep me from taking part.

I brought up joining Team in Training this year and it wasn't right because we have a newborn at home. The time away for cycling would spread us further apart as a family. I'm always glued to the computer in the morning and evening. Ashley was not a fan of the idea and I signed up anyways.

There were all these reasons not to join Team in Training this year but on top of all of the reasons was an overwhelming sense that NOW IS THE TIME. None of us know how much time we have on this earth so I don't know if later will ever get here. What I do know is that I'm capable of doing something NOW. I can fight cancer by getting donations for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and their search for a cure. I can do this in support of myself as a survivor and in memory of the father that was taken from me. I can do this to support all those that are now battling cancer and for the families of those battling. I can do this so that maybe just one person wont have to know the loss I feel.


I Miss My Dad

My dad's name was Gerald Lynn and about 3 years ago I got a call from my family that my dad had myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS). MDS is a disease that is usually seen in older men from the age of 60 to 75. It's a disease in which a person's bone marrow isn't making enough healthy blood cells. The following risk factors make a person more likely to get MDS: (http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/pdq/treatment/myelodysplastic/Patient/page1)

  1. being male or caucasian.
  2. being older than 60.
  3. A past treatment with chemotherapy.
  4. Being exposed to certain chemicals, including tobacco smoke, pesticides, and solvents such as benzene.
  5. Being exposed to heavy metals, such as mercury or lead.
4 out of 5. That's what it took to raise the likelihood enough for my dad to get MDS and start his battle with cancer. MDS is a strange form of cancer that is sometimes called pre-leukemia. If MDS is untreated it becomes AML (Acute Myeloid Leukemia). If you treat it, you can sometimes get it to go into remission but more commonly people just live with MDS while managing the symptoms. For that reason, it is usually aggressively treated.

My dad was treated. Infact, he went through chemotherapy for some time, got lined up for a bone marrow transplant, found a donor, he was doing well and it seemed like he might make it. Dad was out of breath a lot and had a difficult time walking because he got tired so easily but he was in good spirits and things were looking up. 

Unfortunately, it was discovered that the chemotherapy drug he was on caused heart damage. The shortness of breath and tired feeling was a result of the heart damage. The end result of this was he was no longer a bone marrow donation candidate. My dad was forced to go off chemotherapy because of the heart damage. He just did was he could to keep his spirits up while facing the facts that there was little to no hope.

Even in his darkest days, dad still managed to treat people well and elicit smiles from those around him. I went with him for a blood transfusion once and he used his charm to illicit such a warm response from the nurses that to this day I still wish that I could be more like him. Here he was, knowing that he was dying and he still took the time to find out about the personal details of the people he interacted with and remember them later so that he could ask about them. He cared about people, genuinely, and everyone could feel that.

My dad passed away in April of 2009 from renal failure as a result of the MDS turning into AML and his kidneys no longer being capable of keeping up with the cleaning of his blood. AML causes the kidneys to lose their cleaning capability by destroying the nephrons and eventually the kidneys are insufficient at cleaning the blood. When that happens a person goes into renal failure and dies unless they have a kidney transplant or begin dialysis.

When dad started having renal problems he ended up in the hospital. They kept him there for several days and were planning on releasing him. His passing came suddenly. I like to think that he came to grips with his own mortality and fear of death and finally allowed himself to move on. 

My dad should have had a lot of years left in him but cancer took him from me early. F U cancer, I miss my dad.

Friday, May 6, 2011

The Beginning

At the tender age of 19, having just graduated high school I discovered that I had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. The path to this discovery started out simple enough. I was a 19 year old kid, addicted to using the Internet, and my mom asked me to see the doctor because I seemed lethargic. You can probably imagine my response. It was something like, "You're crazy mom". It took her swearing to never ask again before I went to the doctor and I was immensely positive that there was no problem.

Imagine my surprise when I walked in and the first thing the doctor said was, "I think your neck looks swollen." Uhh... okay? So I got sent for a series of ultrasounds and then CT scans.

Imagine it's June 1992, the day I'm supposed to be finding out what the heck they think is wrong with me. I'm at work as a lifeguard at the YMCA in Lakewood, WA and I call home to find out what the doctor said. The response was, "Well talk about it when you get home." Alarming. Next I request emergency time to go home from my boss Jonathan and got the big, "NO". So I worked until my shift was up, went home, and was told that doctors believed I had cancer.

The next day, a Saturday, Dr. Alfred Chan was kind enough to come in on his day off so that he could do a bone marrow biopsy on me and get the process started. I'll skip the details of that but suffice it to say that one should NEVER claim you have a high tolerance for pain when a doctor is asking if he can scrape around inside your bones with two-handed needles.

The diagnosis came back soon afterwards, "stage IIIb non-hodgkins lymphoma" and so began my ongoing fight with cancer.

It took six months of chemotherapy with treatments two weeks on and two weeks off each month till I was in remission. There were also massive doses of prednisone to support my almost non-existent immune system, a 2 week stay in the hospital at one point after getting DVT, huge amounts of weight gain--damn prednisone, and more fun. It was hard but I got through it.

I say "got through it" because I survived. I didn't feel like I beat cancer then, I don't feel like I beat cancer now, and I don't know if I'll ever feel like I beat cancer.  But damn it, I'm going to try.