My Week In Tweets

Here are some random "tweets"- short little thoughts of how this last week went:


And, just because, here's a picture of me sitting on a couch in the proximity of 2000 Flushes last summer.

Cancer: where you put tons of stuff in your body in order to get rid of stuff in your body.

Yes, I make cancer jokes.

This week's side: Swollen feet, constipation, and bloating... I'm like a pregnant woman.

Blood work results: White Blood Cell levels are lower, but normal for what I'm going through. I've got to be careful around crowds, and especially sick people.

Don't see me if you're sick. No offense.

Do something besides Facebook.

My sheets smell weird.

Last one's explanation: they're clean. They smell like a weird clean. Chemo brain= stronger sense of smell.

Bring "The Middle" to Netflix.

I need to stop binge-watching "The Middle."

I'm loooosing my minnnnnnnnnnnnnd.

Getting ready for USU. #givemescholarships

Logan list: Meet with advisor, possible apartment hunting, visit the temple, go to a reception.

IT SNOWED. 14 INCHES.

Mom and I went offroading. In the snow.

Everytime I think about what's on my bucket list, I think of some of the things that I've already done. Maybe I'll start an "Already Accomplished" bucket list. A tekcub list.

What do I do as a missionary who does nothing? #deepthoughts

What is the purpose of life?

Oh wait, I know that last one.

Okay, get off Facebook.

Shaved my head all the way down again. I feel like I was starting to look like the doll head with the crab/spider body from Toy Story.

Need to go practice that violin.

Don't judge me because I play Candy Crush as much as you.

Helped babysit nephews last week. Kids make me tired, better give it a few years before I have my own.

Still watching "The Middle."

I'm going to take off time from the temple again. Not what I want, but what I got to do. Best for my health.

Setting goals. I'm coasting, not moving forward. What do I want to accomplish?

Temple picture of the week: taken around the time I figured out I'd be serving at the temple.

Advice of the week, to both you and me: Don't wallow about where you are. Don't find and dig for all the bad things going on, all the disappointments you're dealing with, and the things you can't do. Instead, focus yourself to the things that make you better, give you joy, allow the spirit in your life, and make you you.

Keep running.

No Hair, Do[n't] Care

What do you think of when you first hear the word 'chemo'--- bald head? Me too.

My very first round of chemo in November and December made my hair thin, but it didn't fall out. Although this round is a higher dose, along with another type of chemo (which FYI are freaking horse pills), I was thinking that I would have the same result with my hair. But, I was wrong.

To recap, this chemo is administered over about nine weeks. I have four doses, spaced three weeks apart. I got my second one today, but more details on that later as side effects start kicking in. In about six weeks, I'll have my last dose. I have two types of chemo: Cisplatin, administered intravenously- IV- along with my fluids and anti-nausea I get. The other type of chemo is Etoposide, aminstered orally. I take four pills a day for three days, and the pills are the largest I've seen in my pill-taking life.

Pill-taking life.... maybe the wrong choice of words, but you know what I mean- right? Do you remember those toys that looked like this, and when you put them in the water, they grew into those spongy animals? Let's hope there wasn't a mix-up like that.

On second thought, let's hope there was. #IdRatherEataASpongeThanChemo

The scene is last week, sitting at two weeks after Chemo #1 and one week before Chemo #2. Monday afternoon. I jumped in the shower, ran my hands through my 1 1/2 inch hair. I looked down at my hands and see quite a bit of hair, reached up to my head, pulled  a little clump, and the sight in my hand confirmed what was going on- the chemo is making my hair fall out. I didn't wash my hair, but just rinsed off, got out of the shower, and showed my Mom. She said that she had seen a few little pieces on my white Sunday shirt the night before.

I put off getting back into the shower and doing anything about my hair. We talked that "maybe it would just thin before, so we wouldn't need to shave it all off," but I knew from the start I'd end up shaving it. I decided to wait til the morning, get in the shower, really wash my hair and see how much would fall out and go from there.

So Tuesday morning, we cut my hair. Aaand had fun with it.

Interesting fact for all you Biology junkies out there- if you pull one of your hair follicles right now, you'll notice that the follicle is white. The hair follicle from my head is black. Why? Chemo is killing the fast growing cells.

*I'll answer any possible question now: Only the hair from my head is falling off. Nowhere else. Done. No more. Now you know.*

How do I look bald?

You may not think that a guy cutting hair for this reason isn't that hard. And for some people, I'm sure it's a breeze. For me, it has been the hardest part of this whole deal. It hit home that this really IS what I'm dealing with right now. It made everything feel more real, especially because I have done good with the first dose. I've never had a breakdown, but last week was about the closest I've gotten.

I like to think that I do pretty good with being put on the spot; I do good in front of people, and I've always considered myself a 'people person.' I don't like to feel vulnerable, I am faced with a lot of weakness, but most of the time I have learned to look past and grow from my weaknesses. However, this new bald head has made me feel so vulnerable. I'm the guy who is obviously going through cancer. I never wanted to have a bald head. I've never been a hat person.

So now you know.  Have gotten better about writing my insecurities, but being bald is hard for me. I don't like it. People have told me that I pull it off good, but I still don't like it. It's just hair, but as a cancer patient, losing your hair for reasons other than your own is just a symbol of the loss. Cancer is a loss of many things: your "perfect health", privacy, salivary glands, teeth, mandible, normal fibula, partial tongue function, future plans, worry-free future. Cancer is not easy.

However, with loss comes gain. Closer relationships with my family, to be around home for the birth of new family members, the opportunity to use my experiences to help others, see friends come home from missions, spend more time talking and listening, some cool Skullcandy headphones, and countless other gains. The greatest gain from all this has been my testimony. I have learned time and time again that patience is necessary in life and in the life to come. I know that hard times are ultimately for our advantage, and someday we are going to look back and know exactly why we went through what we did, what we needed to learn from it, and how it helped make us better people.

Life is not going to be all easy. I hate to break it to you. But from that uneasy life, you are going to grow in ways that you never thought you were possible. If you only knew. If I only knew. Heavenly Father knows. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, knows. The Holy Ghost knows and He will guide you every step of the way, as you are worthy of that guidance. Don't you give up.

I said it once, I'll say it again: with loss comes gain.

Keep running.

Life is Good- Chemo One Down

Last week, I had the glorious opportunity to go to the hospital. While there, I met with Dr. Haslem, sat in a recliner, got poked by a needle (which REALLY hurt this time), and left 6 hours later.

And when I say glorious, I really say sucky. I don't want to sound ungrateful. Trust me, I'm grateful. The outcomes of chemo are amazing. I just hate the "during" part. And if you are a normal human being, you should, too.

On the bright side, I have some happy things to say about last week's chemo:

One. Nurses are awesome. I'm pretty sure a requirement for working as a nurse in the cancer center is that you have to be awesome, and happy, and all those things.

Two. People are awesome. I met a lady who is kind of in my same boat. She is receiving chemo once every three weeks. And she bought about 10 parfaits from McDonald's before she got in, so she was sharing them. Yep, she's the snack lady.

Three. I've inherited my dad's wit. One of my favorite things about my dad is how incredibly funny he is. I'm not as funny as he is, but I like to think that I often can come up with a good joke or two on the spot. I made the nurses laugh a few times.

Four. The body is amazing. I'm grateful my body can withstand all this crap. I'm also grateful that these treatments are available to help get rid of dumb cancer.

Five. I've surprised even myself. From what the doctors have explained, the first week is the worst, the second and third weeks are much better. This last week has been a breeze. I felt sick on the Monday night of treatment, Wednesday, and a tiny tiny bit on Sunday. But overall, I'm a freakin' champ. I'm feeling great!

Six. I've been staying busy. I have done so much indexing lately, it's driving me nuts. Even though I can't be serving at the temple for five days a week right now, that's okay. I know I'm needed elsewhere. And if I'm not supposed to be at the temple right now, it must be for some prrretty important reason.

Seven. The atonement is real. There are so many times, especially in the last few months, where I have felt unloved, unimportant, and that I can't do this. Not just cancer, but some other personal aspects in my life at the moment. I know that the Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, is there for us. HE LIVES. He comforts. He knows what I'm feeling and when I'm feeling it. He knows exactly how I need to be comforted. I know the atonement is real and that His power is real. I worry about the future sometimes. I worry about having a family. I worry about being able to provide; about being able to be a good husband and father. All those fears are either gone or diminished because I know that I won't be alone in this. I hope to marry a woman who loves the Lord even more than I do. Because there's no way I'll get through the next 60 years without that guidance.

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I feel like I learn, every single day, what life is all about. Life is about living- not the whole YOLO thing and partying-- and living right. Living a full, complete life, having fun, making right choices, and doing what we want to and should do. The whole time, we hopefully have the guidance of our Heavenly Father through the atonement of His Son in our lives and the promptings of the Spirit. The choice of how you live is entirely up to you.

Ladies and gentlemen, life is good. I'm happy to be here on the earth. I feel like I am faced with a lot of challenges, but through my hard work, I know it's worth living. Every single day.

Keep running.