_{Flaming Lips – “Waitin’ for a Superman” (1999)}

Iron & Wine (aka Sam Beam) covered “Waitin’ for a Superman” and it’s really a toss-up for me as to which version I prefer. Throughout treatment, I preferred Beam’s rendition. The straightforward, gentle guitar strumming keeps me in place throughout the song. The Lips’ version has more zip (as do most of their songs). I recall listening to this at the onset of my treatment when there was definitely some feeling of helplessness. And so the idea of waiting for a Superman really resonated with me. The lyrics continue “tell everybody waiting for a Superman / that they should try to hold on as best they can.” Day by day. Radiation by radiation. Chemo by chemo. Just hold on, because help is coming.

Easy to say :).

Man, what you have to put your body through. You need to have faith that help is coming, even as you push, punish and poison yourself more and more with each week. Give them both a listen when you have the time.

Latest Updates

Picture it: it’s a Monday, I’m at my final radiation and my kids are showing up at the hospital to help me ring the bell. They are coming straight from getting their flu shots, so they are coming in HOT. I’ve warned the staff. The truth: the girls were great. Yes, they were the loudest creatures in the building, a combined 70 pounds of humanity pinballing through the catacombs of the hospital. But their appearance brought smiles and chuckles. They helped to ring the bell and brought some closure to a rough but very necessary component of my treatment plan. For those newish to this ceremony: this doesn’t mean I’m cured. Or that anyone who rings the bell is cured. The bell signifies end of a treatment or milestone or some other positive marker. I was torn about whether to ring the bell or not, to be honest. But seeing my kids there, it all became quite clear to me: I’m ringing that bell. Whatever reservations I had about the symbolism of ringing that bell disappeared when I saw them standing there.

We had planned to celebrate the moments (flu shots, treatment finish, and my oldest daughter’s birthday) with lunch or ice cream but the girls were starting to feel the effects of their flu shots (big bruises on tiny arms are always a sad sight to see) and I can’t really taste anything, so we agreed to just head home. FUN BUNCH!

These last 10 days have really tested my mettle. I’d been warned by my mentor, the medical staff, ChatGPT, my elderly neighbor down the street who calls me Donny—basically anyone with even a passing connection to cancer treatment—that the first few weeks afterward would be rough. They were right! Acute and recurring pain. Just when I thought it was already as heavy as can be… I shifted from a lack of appetite due to chemo’s side effects to an inability to eat due to radiation’s physical toll. Around-the-clock pain management. I found myself not sleeping well. Then I’d start my day only to look forward to ending it. Just trying to burn through the days and get through the pain; knowing that all of this is temporary. I’m optimistic that this period is brief and that I’ll be turning the corner any day now. In fact, I even feel a smidge better as I write this…

More Side Effects

Frustration. Anger. Yelling. Disbelief. Constantly cleaning… All of these are a result of having kids.

Chemoradiation creates its own mess. I’m managing through a number of short-term and longer-term side effects. Taste? My kingdom for a taco! I start fantasizing about food I haven’t eaten in years. Like Arby’s. And Long John Silver’s. It could take up to a year to regain my sense of taste. Maybe longer. Some changes could even be permanent. But I’m optimistic here as well. And when I do? No curly fry is safe!

What else? Rashes, insomnia, fatigue, constipation (TMI), hair loss, tinnitus, mucositis, probably other bothersome things ending in “-itis”, weight loss, blood cell changes, dry mouth, excessive saliva… what a dating profile!

How come side effects are never “may develop biceps like Lou Ferrigno”?

Next up: more check-ins, more tests, and eventually the scans that will help tell us where things stand. Until then, it’s recovery, patience, and hopefully the eventual return of a functioning set of taste buds.

Holding on as best I can…