Numb Sometimes

I’m told it’s a lot to take in. That cancer diagnosis. Especially when you hear a lifetime of how cancer needs to be aggressively attacked. Now to know it’s there, inside me - but we’re going to watch and see what it does. 

I get that this is a good thing. Or at least my mind does. But my emotional state has been scrambled ever since. 

I have new meds - both to address the PTSD and to address the prostrate issues. I went from 2-pills a day to seven. My prescription bottles line up like the ones my dad had on his dresser when we cleaned his room after he died. 

I’m 28 years younger than he was, and I’ve caught up to him on med bottles. Damn. 

The new cocktail of pills has side effects - trying to understand them… which ones are normal, and are any of them not. Holy hell, is this a side effect or a symptom? Oh, you know what? Take another anxiety med because it’s all stressing me out. 

My focus is limited at best. 

Why do I have to wait and see if this stuff comes after me?  I do because if we go after it with radiation or surgery - my life permanently changes. Although, it already has. Even if it sits and doesn’t attack me, I’ll have tests the rest of my life to be sure that’s the case. I’m not complaining. I know there are people who have far bigger challenges than the one I face. Just damn it - I didn’t want, or need this at this point in my life. Trying to do the last stage planning for retirement … and now there’s a medical wrench in the mix. 

Yes, today I’m down. Seeing all the cancer stuff durring NFL games today pushed my buttons to tell my friends what’s happening. I appreciate what the NFL is doing - but this reminder wasn’t on my schedule… but I’ll roll with it. 

I told them I don’t want their prayers and I don’t want their sympathies. What I want is for the guys over 55 in my circle to make sure they’re getting a PSA test. It’s a blood draw. Knowledge is power and if you sit back and don’t seek to know - it can spread and make your life miserable, or worse. 

So there. That’s why I posted on my social media about it. Take control and monitor your PSA levels. 

I’m a little angry. A little sad and not really looking forward to a prolonged fight of any kind.  This waiting, watching and testing works for now. I hope that’s all it ever is. 

I’m a bit self centered right now, but I’m told I’m allowed to be and while that may be true - it doesn’t feel right. 

I am kind of scrambled at the moment. 

Looking forward to my group this week. 

I need it. 

and the answer is….

Just to add a pinch of drama to this whole thing an hour before my doctor’s appointment to hear what the pathology report is from the biopsy, the office calls and says, “we don’t have the report back from the lab yet, so we need to move your appointment out three days.”  But what if the results come in later today or tomorrow? “We will try to work you in before hand if the results come in early.” 

The waiting anxiety is now granted a three day extension. 

And half an hour later the results are posted to the patient portal, meaning I can see them if I want. Well, how can I not look? I have to look. I texted my wife and opened the portal and there they are - all I have to do is click on the green button to see if I have cancer or not. 

My mouse arrow lingered for a moment, I was going to remember the next 15-seconds for a very long time and I wanted to get steady while I told myself it will be negative. 

Click. 

I have cancer. 

Now, the beauty of it all is I - I should say - we, have a couple days to doc google everything and build a list of questions. 

Also good that it appears to have been caught very early and low grade, with no indication of spread. So this is doable. We do recognize however, that it will impact the rest of our lives in some way.  

The good news is we can live with that. 

Note:

Where my head is… it’s an ok place…  strength comes from being neck deep in this life with the most amazing partner, lover and friend, a person could wish for. (And a great circle of friends). 

Waiting game

 

It’s a fact of life right? The older you get the more health issues pop up. Like an old ship, there are creeks and groans that years of west and tear cause. The older you are the more the symphony of these sounds echos through your day-to-day. Check-ups a year ago included blood work. Bloodwork that showed a rise in a certain number. So doc says we will revisit in six months with more lab work. Well, we did and the number was higher.  So now let’s get an MRI. Well, that’s not showing us much, we let it ride six more months and get more lab work. The number is even higher.

We meet, talk options. We can give it six more months and see where we are or we can do a biopsy and find out if there are cancer cells in there. 

Biopsy. Please. 

Unpleasant as it was, the bigger gut check is now the wait. Five days until we meet in person to go over the results. 

Hey, if it’s cancer it’s one that can be easily beaten. But the idea that I’m waiting to find out if I have cancer… well, Thais sucks!  I know there are tens of thousands (likely more) who are also waiting for similar results.  Damn.  There is a great deal of pain out there. Even if this is “C” I’m in better shape than most and it’s treatable so… fingers crossed. 

Managed it well

 The anniversary certainly had its moments, but overall lighter than years past for certain. Of course one reason likely was I happen to have an appointment with my Vets Center therapist on the day of the anniversary. Which gave it an outlet for conversation with immediate feedback with my being challenged to speak how this year was better. 

First, allow myself time to be sad. It’s a sad day. 

Second, say to myself what they would say to me. You remembered, thank you. Now breathe in, breathe out and move ahead.

Lastly, do something productive, fun or relaxing today. Something that honors them and myself.  

A rather simple playbook to a complex day of emotions, but it worked. 

The journey continues. 

Here it comes. They are close & there is more

 

The amazing place I work has one huge drawback. Each year, around the first full week of August we have a week long festival of sorts and usually work 13 or so days in a row. In addition it is “sea service” related, so there is a lot of interaction with active duty local Coast Guard personnel. So that feeling of “shipmates” is rekindled and it’s impossible to ignore, especially when you’re exhausted. 

 

Yesterday was my first day “off” in two weeks and I slept late, played with the dogs, napped, mowed the lawn, stayed up late watching a movie and slept late again. 

It’s “that week.”

39 years later. 

Yes, I’ve made progress. Solid progress. I am not so deep in darkness that giving up my life would resolve anything. But damn it hurts. They are faceless and yet not. Arround this time each year they feel damn close. So close. Just like they were 39 years ago. I assume they now know all of us who played a part in their fate that night. I know they hold no grudge about it. I also know I’m not alone.  Captain Fairchild certainly took this memory with him. I’m sure he met both aviators and embraced them on behalf of all Towers crew there that night. 

I’ve started to wonder why the two people I knew well, who stood alongside me on deck that night, can’t seem to be located. The swimmer who was ready to go in, and our Chief, who demanded permission to put the swimmer in the water. The three of us were alone in that space, at that moment at 2AM in the middle of the Indian Ocean looking at a plane sinking. Where are they?  

Who was OOD and CON that night? I have no doubt all of us are somehow different because of that night. We all handle things differently. 

I have talked with a shipmate who was there that night working below deck in main engine control. He remembers clearly the drama he heard on coms, and is grateful he was below deck. Even still, that night is clear in his memory. 

I pray I’m not the only one who sought help in dealing with this experience. I know it impacted everyone there. My fear is  those closest may have been overcome by the darkness of it. I truly hope they’re ok. That they have taken full advantage of life instead of giving in to the darkness. 

In working through this I can see how taking full advantage of life is paying tribute to the ones we lost that night. They’d want us to take that trip we’ve been putting off. They want us to have adventures and new experiences. 

Which is why when the hard first week of August rolls into my life, I want to flee. I question how long I will continue to work full-time and deny myself - and my wife - the adventure and experience is breathing in and making the most of our lives. 

Breathe. Long slow breaths. Allow yourself to grieve a little for their lost, and be sure to do what they’d want you to do. Breathe in - and take those first few steps toward adventure while you still can.  It’s the only way to truly find freedom from the weight and continue forward; which is what our departed shipmates want us to do. Keep moving forward. 

Starting to “feel” different (with an UPDATE)

When things are good, they’re great! Things have not ever been quite like this. For more than two years I’ve had the incredible support of an amazing human being. Their confidence in me has given me strength I didn’t know I had. This person is my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, my soulmate, my girlfriend, and my wife. Her strength is removing barriers, giving me permission to lower mine, and be vulnerable. She builds me up, and encourages me to - above all else - to feel.  To allow myself the experience of truly feeling the emotions buried deep inside my soul. 

So I did. With great therapy and a safe, caring place to heal - I am starting to feel like there is room for so much more than I have allowed.  There is room for trust. There is room for me, and there is room to share it all with her, and actually feel. To feel worthy of appreciation. Worthy of having pain. Worthy of being loved, and above all, worthy of living. 

When someone says their wife has shown them the door, it usually means something far different than it means to me. My bride, my best friend, has shown me the door, and encouraged me to finally walk through it and face the demons waiting there. 

Thank you my love. 

-----------------------------UPDATE MARCH 6, 2026----------------------------

My love showed herself the door and left. 

She encouraged me to take journey, but the encouragement alone wasn't enough. 

I believe each of our own complex traumatic childhoods are the roots of how we each deal with stressors and anxiety in our lives. Over the last eight to nine months I was needing to vent, and get things out - and all she could do was shut down. She could encourage, but she could not engage for the long haul - or maybe she could have - if I had just given her the chance. If I had felt secure enough to say out loud what I was thinking - and what I was needing. Maybe.. But we will never know. 

I need connection when I am anxious. If the person closest to me is shut down, I grow even more anxious. 

I have felt horrible and one night, after another evening meal of no meaningful conversation I was literally sick, dizzy and feeling odd.  I took my blood pressure and it was 210/118.  I was in the midst of a full blown panic attack - and began to hyper ventilate. 

I remembered how to calm myself down, and got it under control. I also took a blood pressure pill that I realized I had forgotten to take earlier.  I googled that BP and it said, "go to the emergency room." 

She walked through the bedroom and asked what my BP was. I told her, and told her the google suggestion. She never stopped walking and as she passed me to leave the room she said, "then you should go." 

I never felt so alone or abandoned. Where was my partner in this life?  

Weeks later I came home and she was packed, sitting by the door with the remnants of a drink in her hand. She said she was leaving, we'd be getting a divorce. 

If you are reading this saying - there's got to be more to this than what's here - you are correct. But it's not your business. So it stays with us. 

Bottom line is she is gone. Both our hopes and dreams shattered because we didn't know how to get by the walls we built as kids. Neither of us made it easier on the other - not by intention - but in how we handled it. 

How despite talking the talk about honesty, we could not find our way there. The moment things got hard we retreated to places of safety or comfort. 

Now the divorce is nearly final and the couple that thought for sure they finally had it right - are now alone and trying to heal. 

This one hurts.  

There have been moments - where - you know what, I don't want to go on. 

But I don't do it - not for me, but for my kids, and to not lay that on her. 

I have wrestled that demon for decades. I should care about me, and I struggle to do that consistently. 

If you feel that way too - then it's just part of the process. 

Part of healing. 

Part of moving on. 

Part of being alive. 

and part of falling in love. 

Lost Bracelet

 My Amazing wife gave me a “hold fast” bracelet last year.  I didn’t wear it often, as the reminder on my wrist was just too much to take all day, every day. But as my experience at the VetCenter continued, and my healing took root, I recently found myself wearing it every day. I plan to get it engraved with a reference to the incident. 

Suddenly, like someone far older than I am, I’ve lost it. I can’t find the bracelet. 

It’s now the 4th of July and the fireworks are booming outside. Yet another celebration unseen by Liberty 603. 

Or is it?

They see it. They see it from another perspective, one we - or shall I say, “I” - don’t yet understand. 

Kevin and Chris, we should know each other better for having a connection lasting this long!  

I salute you both, and look forward to hearing your side of the story of that night. 

Someday. On your side of things. 

I know you’re good with that taking longer … 

Thank you. 

Happy 4th of July. 

UPDATE: About a week later I found the bracelet. 

Another Memorial Day

It’s a little different this year. I’m trying hard to not let all the darkness rush in. It’s a little easier because we took our two young grandson’s camping!  The constant needs of a 5 and 7 year old fill the space, the air and the brain.  They’re really great boys.  Funny and smart. Their dad spent time in the Army.  He, like every solid veteran, downplays his service. He’s done that in front of me and today when Oma (I’m Opa) asked the boys if they knew what Memorial Day was? They did not.  She explained that some people who are in the military die while doing their jobs, and this is the weekend (and day) that we honor them.  

She said, your Opa was in the Navy, he was lucky and got to come home.  I said, and your dad was in the Army and he got to come home too.  So we remember those who didn’t. 

They said, ya, but dad wasn’t in a war.  He wasn’t in a fight.  No, but he was in a uniform and he did lots of training and he went to other countries to keep them safe and free. 

Oh. I didn’t know that.  I’m glad he was lucky to. 

Me too boys. Me too. 

Why so little…

 

Time. 

It’s real

And it’s constantly ticking away.  In the last few months I’ve completed two months of group therapy at the Vets Center. It was based on creative writing and it was incredibly insightful for me, and gave me some credibility in my own mind. 

After all, in the back of my

Head for 30+ years has been a feeling of not being worthy of feeling traumatized and heavily impacted by my Navy experience. A previous girlfriend who I opened up to once about PTSD responded; “how can you have that? You were never in a war.” 

It was then I realized #1, she did not understand me, and never would. But it also reinforced that fear, that I had no business seeking help. I wasn’t ever in combat, I never faced kill or be killed. I was in fear for my life more than a few times, as well as in the middle of unfortunate events where people died, but in none of those was anyone shorting at me. 

In group we had veterans of Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan, and me. 

In one writing assignment we wrote about how we wish our thematic experiences had turned out.  

I wrote about being deployed as a rescue swimmer to a pilot who had crashed and how I used my training to calm the pilot down, get him to allow me to pull him to safety.  My last line was something along the lines of, I never had the chance to use that training.  Of all the times I was deployed in the water, not once was I able to engage a survivor. 

I never got to use that part of my training on how to deal with an upset, injured, angry pilot. Never. 

The Vietnam veteran, a Marine who had described seeing some of his friends vaporized by mines and artillery, looked dead at me, and said, “wow, that sucks, and that’s gotta be hard.”  When he said that I got emotional, it was, for me, kind of an acceptance into the brotherhood of military PTSD. 

To feel accepted and be validated by these guys, was truly overwhelming.  I could finally accept for myself  that what I was experiencing was valid. 

Why do we do that to ourselves?  Why do we question our right to feel a certain way? 

I don’t know why I did. 

But I know now, I don’t have to question it - I am allowed to feel however I feel.  Whether validated by brothers or not. 

It was yet another step in this journey. 

Every day is, but with this knowledge each step can be a little more productive than the last. 

 

Alone Time Raises the Volume on Negativty

This is the longest I have been away from my wife since we've been together. 

It's nearly a week into it and I have done literally nothing.  I put clothes in the dryer and did a fast run through a grocery store so I'd have something to make bachelor food from.  So, I guess that's something. 

Tomorrow is Easter and kids and grandkids are coming to the house to see me. The place is a mess, and I am sitting here not liking living with this me. 

I know it's not good to not like yourself, so I don't want to not like myself, but I'm a mess. 

A few minutes ago I broke down. I miss my dog that I lost a year ago more than I miss my dad. What a statement that is huh? 

We bought a camping trailer in hopes that we make time to get away together - just the two of us... and I'm scared we won't do it enough to make it worthwhile. 

There is so much to do around here and the job takes SO MUCH time away from home life. Uhg. 

But we will attack this one piece at a time. 

It's Saturday and I have to go to work and take care of a project.  Once that it done I can focus on cleaning up this mess in the house and getting some shopping done so that we can have an Easter tomorrow. 

I deeply miss the company of my best friend, my confidant, my biggest supporter.  She constantly reminds me of the good in me.  This week has shown me that I do not do a good job of that.  I let the negative rule and then have this desire to act out in a way to punish myself, or put myself at risk.  

I chose not to do that today. 

I'm going to work. Step one. 

When that's complete - I'll tackle this house and celebrate that success. 

We'll see how this goes. 

2024 Kicks off with lots of mixed emotions

 

What a start.  I have been neglecting this blog, somewhat intentionally, maybe. 

In February I lost my father.  he was 89 years old and a career firefighter.  I spent a decade of my life, from age 11 until my 20's without him in my life.  Some of it was out of my hands, and some was in my control - but I didn't know it.  I did what others wanted to keep the peace and as a result lost time with my dad.  Time I will never get back. 

February also was the one year anniversary with my bride, the one.  The one who I have been getting ready for my entire life.  She brings both peace and passion to my life. She's been an incredible breath of fresh air.  I mean that literally.  I was pretty much suffocating myself - until she came along and showed compassion for the me I had been hiding. 

Then my sons lost their maternal grandmother in a house fire.  She was a fantastic woman who at 92 still has at least a decade ahead of her. Such a surreal and sad moment. But within it I saw both my boys strength. They are really good young men and I love them beyond my ability to describe here. 

I started group therapy at the Vets Center and it's been an eye-opener in so many ways - somewhat outwardly, but mostly it's inward facing. 

On a recent therapy visit I was kind of shocked at how well all this was being handled... shocked by my own healthy responses to it all.  I worried that perhaps I was burring a lot. 

I press on. 

Now I don't feel so bad.  I managed to capture the roller coaster month of February in a few paragraphs. 

Insights on myself - there are many. Mostly good.  But there's worry about things I've packed away so well that they'll surprise me. 

Worry may be the wrong word. It implies I am actively waiting for the other show to drop - and I am not.  But I feel it's out there.  

Waiting.

New Year. New Opportunities.

 

Perspective. 

If we can keep it, then it can change our lives. 

Staying positive. 

Tapping into the “get it done” mentality.  Suck it up and start that long pushed off project. You’ll feel much better when it’s done. 

That’s my one and only goal for the new year.  Keep perspective and get up and do it.  

Looking back, 2023 was a year I did get off my backside and address things in my life.  Not home improvement projects but it’s amazing how home has improved because of them. 

Perspective.  

Heads up. Eyes open. 

Let’s go.