No New Cancer!

It has been some time since my last posting.  If this caused any of you concern, I apologize.

This last week was an important one for me.  For one thing, on April 17th it was six months since my surgery.  As a follow up with my cancer the doctors are calling for CT scans and MRI's every three months for the next two years to make sure that the cancer isn't coming back.  So, on Monday I went in and spent about 2 hours lying in machines as they captured images of my head, neck and chest.

Claustrophobic anyone?

MRI's are interesting.  They put you in hospital gowns and give you ear plugs because the machine is quite loud.  They hook up an IV so that they can inject dye at certain times, then they lay you on a sliding table.   They place a cage over your head so that you can't move your head in any direction, then they slide the table into a tube that is only barely bigger than your body.  I don't know how they would do this with somebody who was overweight since I barely fit.  The technician informs you not to move at all and then this loud contraption begins.  It sounds like you are in a metal tube and somebody is beating on it with a hammer.  For a scan of my head neck and chest it took 80 minutes.  I'm not claustrophobic at all, thank heavens.  The lady ahead of me had to be sedated so that she could be inserted into the machine.

Anyway, my appointment with the doctor to get the results was on Thursday.  I tried not to be nervous.  After all, I know that God is aware of me and that he has been taking care of me all along the way.  What I don't know is whether this trial is over yet or not.  I find myself asking if I have learned all that I was supposed to learn or if God still has more trials for me to overcome.  The thought of having to go through surgery or chemotherapy again is very frightening!  So, my feelings bounce all over the place.  I know that God loves me and yet still I am scared.

Well, Thursday came.  The nurses at the chemotherapy clinic were wonderful as always.  Many of them came in just to hug me and ask how I had been.  A few commented on how different I look with hair.  It's strange to think of a whole group of people who know me better as bald.   Several of them told me how they talk about me often and pray for me.

Finally it was time to talk to the doctor.  I like our doctor, he doesn't beat around the bush.  After a brief physical he sat down at the computer and told me, "Eric, your scans look completely clear.  We can't find any evidence of your cancer returning." I have to admit,  I broke down and cried.  JoLynne is so loving and supportive.  She just squeezed  my hand to let me know how happy she was.  The doctor just grinned.

On the way out several nurses again came out to hear what the doctor had said.  They are so genuine in their concern.  I don't know that I have ever met more compassionate people.  I told them the good news and started to cry again.  (That seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life these days.)  There was an older gentleman across the room who was waiting for his wife who was having chemotherapy as well.  He started to cry too.  What is it about cancer that draws us all together so tightly?  I guess it is the common enemy that we are all fighting.

I was so happy when I got home.  I just felt like climbing on my roof and yelling out the good news.  I did the next best thing and sent a bunch of texts.  I told my kids we were going to have a "No New Cancer" party.  So we went out to eat and just be together.

I still don't know for sure what the future holds.  Mostly I just feel grateful to be healthy and to feel my strength coming back.  I try to remind myself of the miracles that have occurred and to continue to feel that deep sense of gratitude to my Heavenly Father.  I don't want that feeling to fade.  We were at the temple the other night.  There was some quiet time as we waited.  One of the after effects of chemotherapy for me is a constant high pitched noise in my ears.  It is more noticeable when it is quiet.  I also have quite of bit of hearing loss.  Anyway, I was thinking about how my ears don't work quite as well as they used to and the thought came, "What you have lost in physical hearing you have gained in your spiritual hearing"  I believe that is true.  I feel like I am better able to hear the promptings of the spirit than ever before in my life.  This was probably a good trade.

Happy Anniversary

Yesterday was an anniversary of sorts, 5 months since my surgery.  I don't know why it seemed to strike me yesterday but I kept thinking about what I was doing 5 months ago.  It has been a scenic ride these last five months, hopefully a journey I won't need to make again any time soon.

She's makes a way cute grandma

Well, let me start with the big news that I wasn't allowed to tell last week.  JoLynne and I are going to be grandparents!  March 2nd was JoLynne's birthday and it was also supposed to be my last day of chemotherapy (before I flunked out).  Anyway, Shanelle and Mike brought by a surprise present.  When JoLynne opened it there was a note that said "So you can look the part" and when you lifted the paper there was a gray grandma wig and a note saying "Not to be used before September 20th".  We are thrilled for Shanelle and Mike and so grateful for the wonderful changes that this will bring into their lives.  Children are a ton of work but they are so worth it.  We are thrilled!

For those following this blog, you may remember that prior to my surgery a dear friend gave me a priesthood blessing where he promised, among other things, that I would live to see grandchildren and great grandchildren.  This seems to be a fulfillment of at least the first part of that blessing.  We were having a hard time imagining how we would get to part B without doing part A.  Shanelle and Mike have solved that.

So I have downloaded an app on my phone called "My pregnancy" and I check every day to see what our grand baby is doing today.  For those who may care, he/she developed fingerprints this week.  I think Shanelle thinks I am a bit over the top but I don't care.  I have a recording of the baby's heartbeat but I'm just not "high tech" enough to figure out how to attach an audio clip.  In case you're wondering it sounds like this:  "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh......"  It's pretty awesome.

A good day for a run

I went for a run yesterday.  It was the first time since my surgery that I didn't feel like every step was a chore.  I still didn't run very fast but I also didn't suffer as much.  I went 9.22 miles so my strength is coming back slowly.  I picked up Jarom along the run and he ran the last 4.5 miles with me.  I appreciated the company.  He's a great young man.


It turns out that yesterday was also the Rex Lee run.  This is an annual race held at BYU to raise money for cancer research, in honor of the late Rex Lee who died of cancer and was an avid runner.  As we were running along the south side of campus they were just getting ready to begin the race and I happened across a friend of mine, Neal Anderson, who was running the race.  He is in my stake and was the same one who helped me to finish my very first marathon many years ago.  He stopped to show me his race bib.  There on the front was written, "In honor of Eric Vogel".... I am blessed with such good friends.  Just when I think I am getting over crying about everything something like this comes around...  My tear glands are still working.

I am blessed with good friends

Well, life is beautiful.  Every day is a gift.  I love watching the sunrise in the morning or even the snow fall in March when I want to work in my garden.  I love going to work and taking care of patients who are dear friends.  I love hearing my children giggle.  I love snuggling up to my wife at the end of every day.  This world is a beautiful place and fills me with awe and wonder.  I am grateful for the faith of friends and the miracles that have happened as a result of that faith allowing me to continue to enjoy this life.  I am grateful to my Heavenly Father who grants me every breath.

I used shampoo!

Not every shampoo "restores your spirit"
You pay more, but it's worth it.

I am slowly but surely recovering from surgery and the effects of chemotherapy.  The Stake President now calls me "Curly", JoLynne refers to me as "Fuzz head".  JoLynne's description is more accurate.  As I was taking a shower yesterday I noticed a new shampoo that JoLynne had put in the shower.  The label read "Nourishing Oasis, Restore your Hair and Spirit, Energize and Volumize"  Plus it was made in Canada!  I thought to myself "This stuff has to be good!"  I was tempted to use it all over my whole body.  Anyway, I practiced some restraint, and kept to just using it on "the fuzz".  I don't know about all the other claims, but it did make my scalp shiny.

Kind of how I feel

My strength continues to return as well.  Yesterday I ran 7.5 miles.  I am not as fast as I used to be but I am running none the less.  I still have a hard time keeping up with the oxygen demands of my body.  I just need more red blood cells I guess.  I should probably eat liver or something but I think I would rather be out of breath.  I returned the other day from a 5 mile run and was expressing my frustrations to JoLynne that I couldn't run faster.  I told her "It used to be so easy, now I have to work for it"  She just shook her head and said, "It's about time that you understand how the rest of us feel all the time"

The real miracle is that there is snow

The wound care team released me from their care.  The wound on my leg is essentially closed over.  I mentioned to them that I had been skiing.  The doctor shook his head and said that he didn't remember giving me permission to do that.  I reminded him that he had given me permission to run and, Hey, skiing is kind of like running with two boards hooked to your feet.  They didn't see it the way that I did but they didn't scold me any more either.   They told me that I had earned "The Magic Wand".  I thought that they were kidding but they weren't.  After my last appointment they walked me out front and waved a singing wand up and down my body and recited some ditty about how they had worked their magic upon me.  It seemed like magic to me.  I don't think the wand was the key to success but it was funny anyway.

Oh, and I have some really big news....but I can't share it yet.  Maybe next week.

This last week two significant people in my life passed away.  One was the man who performed the sealing and wedding  for JoLynne and me, David Yarn.  I think he performed the weddings and sealings for 9 out of 13 siblings in my family.  He lived to a ripe old age and had a life full of service.  The second one was a young pediatrician here in town.  He had some minor health problems which somehow got out of control.  He ended up having a stroke and dying at age 38.  He had barely begun his medical practice and left behind a wife and four young children.  That is only a little older than my father was at the time of his death.  I guess the reason I mention it is because it re-emphasizes to me the fragile nature of life.  Every day I wake up so grateful to be alive still.  Life is a beautiful, delicate gift.  It is so easy to take for granted but really, who knows how long any of us have upon this earth.  We may have a long life or we may be called home early.  We just don't know.  I try to live each day to it's fullest.  I hope I can help someone in need or do something of value each day that I am alive.  I hope I never go to bed without telling my wife and children how much I love them.  Tomorrow never comes, we only have today.

PS:  Yesterday I winked for the first time in four months with my right eye.  JoLynne will have no relief from the flirting now!

"Running off at the mouth"

It has now been six weeks since my last chemotherapy treatment.  It is such a strange feeling.  I feel almost like I am aging backwards.  Each morning I wake up feeling 5 years younger than the day before.  (Ten more days and I will be back in diapers.)  I think that I didn't realize how poorly I was feeling until my health started to return.  The contrast has been wonderful.  I don't think that I have ever appreciated my health quite like this.

Happiness is stinky running shoes

On Friday we went to the wound care doctor.  As you may remember, my leg wound, where they harvested the bone to build my jaw, has had significant problems healing properly.  At one point there were serious concerns about needing to amputate or even worse.  Since I stopped chemotherapy and thanks to the wonderful skills of the wound care team, finally my leg is beginning to look better.  The other day, as I was laying on the bed waiting for JoLynne to bandage my wound again our son Peter came in and said, "Wow, that just looks like normal road rash now".  I will take that as a compliment.  On Friday the wound care team also gave me permission to run again.  It has been nearly four months since I was allowed to run.  So, on Saturday morning, I laced up my shoes and went for a run.  It was Heavenly!  I didn't go too far or fast, only three miles.  I was more out of breath than I am used to.  I'm guessing that my red blood cell count isn't quite back to normal yet.  Still, I loved it.  As I was running, maybe it was my imagination, but it felt weird in my jaw where they put my leg bone.  Like the muscles were contracting trying to help me run.  Those body parts need to learn that they have another role to play in my life now.  They have been re-assigned.  Today my leg muscles are sore.  It is so nice to have that kind of pain as opposed to the other types that I have been experiencing of late.


I forgot to mention a very sweet act of kindness shown to me a few weeks ago.  One of my dearest friends came by with a beautiful painting that he had done for me.  This is the same friend who came and paced me for the last 25 miles of the ultra marathon I did last spring.  He said that while he painted he thought of the scripture in Matthew 6:28-30

Painted by my dear friend and running partner

And why take ye thought for raiment?  Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin:
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 
Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, ^ashall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little ^bfaith?

Throughout this challenge one of the greatest lessons I have learned is that God loves me and will take care of me.  I have been amazed at how He has cared about even the seemingly small things enough to send help and comfort. Though the trial wasn't taken away, I always felt like a path was provided so that I could find my way through.  I sometimes wonder if God hasn't always been so involved in my life but I was too preoccupied to notice.

We love the temple!

We had the opportunity to go to the temple this evening.  Our son Jarom came along with us.  It is always so nice to be in the temple, especially with family.  It feels like coming home.  This trip had a special purpose, to try and get an answer about what we should do with chemotherapy.  One of the sweet things about the temple is that I seem to be able to get answers to my prayers more readily there.  This trip was no exception.  After careful thought and prayer both JoLynne and I received an answer, in the temple, that it is time for me to stop chemotherapy.

I have always found it more difficult to get answers to prayers when the matter I am praying about has such profound personal emotions associated with it.  It is hard for me sometimes to separate my personal feelings from answers from God.  The answer that we received in the temple yesterday was unmistakeable.  We are all relieved that I can begin to move on and regain my strength.  Already, on last Thursday my immune system and my red blood cells had begun to rebound somewhat according to the doctor.  My body seems to be coming back to life again.  I feel like I am waking up from a dream.  I still don't have the strength that I had prior to chemotherapy but I feel so much better than a week or two ago that the contrast is amazing.  I am so grateful to feel good again!

I have learned so much these last three months.  Perhaps in another post I will talk about that.  It's a little close to home still to talk about.  One effect of all this has been on my tear glands.  They just seem to work a lot more often than they used to.  Maybe my heart is softer or maybe I am just getting old and leaky.  I look at my wife and my children, I think about the many miracles that have occurred and my heart is full.   I am just so grateful to be alive!

The Provo temple.  Where JoLynne and I were married.   It continues to be a special place for us

Fortunate fortune cookie

We just returned last night from our trip back to Mayo clinic.  It was a good trip but fast.  This was a three month follow up visit with the surgeons and, of course, a chance for us to visit with our oncologist there and discuss my chemotherapy.

The visits with the surgeons were great.  They are thrilled with how I am healing.  They were very happy with the way that my leg bone has fused to the jaw bone.  They were thrilled to see the nerves of my face beginning to turn on again and they were relieved to see the wound on my leg beginning to come under control.  We talked to the main surgeon, Dr. Moore, about what he thought about the question as to whether or not we should continue chemotherapy.  He didn't really give us an answer but he did tell us that he was certain that he had clear margins all around the tumor.  He was certain that no tumor stayed behind in the surgery site.  I mentioned to him that my hearing seemed somewhat altered since starting chemotherapy so he ordered a hearing test.  It just so happened that I had another hearing test done just prior to the beginning of chemotherapy so that was useful for comparison.  The new test showed significant hearing loss in the upper ranges in both ears.  I had some loss from before associated with my profession and the sound of dental drills but the loss in the last 12 weeks is much greater.  The doctors informed me that this is one of the possible side effects of the chemotherapy I was given.  One doctor said that once gone, it would always be gone, the other doctor thought I might get some of it back.  The other day I noticed that I can't hear birds sing anymore.  That's kind of sad.

Our visit with the oncologist over chemotherapy was a bit less definite.  We had faxed all of my medical records to him last week.  He must have spent some serious time since we sent nearly 200 pages of records and he seemed familiar with all of them.  He shared the concerns of our oncologist in Provo.   I think it was obvious to both of them that if I were to continue on the regimen that I am on now it would probably take my life before I finished six rounds.  He said, "My heart tells me that you should stop chemo now but my brain thinks perhaps we could design a different regimen based on other drugs that you might tolerate better."  Apparently there is a regimen used in Europe that might have less side effects than the one I am on.  We talked about that for a bit.  He freely admitted that nobody knows for sure what to expect from my cancer since it has never really been studied.  They really don't know the chances of it coming back and they don't even know if chemo is effective against it or not.  They also don't know if there is even cancer in my body anymore.  What they do know is that if I start chemo again it will set back the healing of the wound in my leg and possibly allow another infection to develop.  This was a main concern for him.  He felt that another infection in my leg could be fatal.  When it was all said and done he said that the decision would have to be ours.  He told us he would consult with the other sarcoma specialists and with our doctor in Provo.

Today we went to visit with our local oncologist again, Brian Tudor.  We have come to have a lot of respect for him both as a doctor and just as a caring man.  We went through all the scenarios with him again.  He mentioned that my response to three rounds of chemo was more that what he expected out of six rounds on most people.  In his words "If three rounds beat you up that badly, I kind of think, if there is cancer in your body, it would have been equally brutal on your cancer."  Needless to say, he is inclined to have us quit chemotherapy at this point as well but he encouraged us to pray about it and find our answers with help from above.

So, here we sit, with some big decisions to make.  We don't want the cancer to come back but we don't want the risks of additional chemotherapy either.  We plan on going to the temple tomorrow and consult with the Lord.  He has been so good to us up to this point.  We hope and pray we can receive answers again this time.

Today a dear friend came by.  She said that just prior to my surgery she went to open a fortune cookie.  She was astounded to read the following:

It seems that God is writing messages in park benches, in fortune cookies and elsewhere as well.  We continue to feel His love and concern for us.

Chemo on hold

Today was to be the start of my fourth round of chemotherapy.  We showed up at the doctor ready and dreading but willing.  They took a sample of my blood, like always, and then we went to wait in the consult room.  Dr. Tudor came in and began the conversation with "You know, Eric, you are highly unusual".  Why do I always have to be weird?

So, my white blood cell count has continued low and has actually gone slightly lower since last week when it was too low to proceed.  Since it has been four weeks since my last treatment that is not what we would have expected.  In his opinion my body is not responding well to the chemotherapy and he wasn't comfortable going forward with the way things are going.  He knew that we were going to Mayo this next week and wants to wait and hear their opinion before doing anything more.  He then said that perhaps we should stop at three rounds and call it good.  We will have to see what the doctors at Mayo think of all that.  He then said that he thought it was divine inspiration that we chose not to do Methotrexate way back at the start.  In his words, "Had we done methotrexate, it is quite likely it would have killed you....okay, maybe I could have saved you but it would have been close".  For those who follow this blog you may remember that the doctors were split 50/50 on whether or not I should do methotrexate.  It was a hard call for us but we took our question to the temple and asked the Lord.  We received a very clear answer back then that we shouldn't do methotrexate.  It should be no surprise that Heavenly Father knew from the start what would be best.  I am so grateful that once again I have been divinely protected.

Cute little birthday girl

Well, after the doctor left I was dumbfounded.  JoLynne stood up ready to leave and I was just sitting there speechless.  I guess I had an expectation that I would need to suffer for so much longer and now I am being told that perhaps I won't.  I guess it is too early to know that for sure.  We will see what they say at Mayo.  So, here I sit, feeling great when I expected to feel lousy.  I'm not complaining.  Today is Elizabeth's eleventh birthday and it seems I got the nicest present.  When I mentioned that to her, she said, "Having you feel good is the nicest present for me too, daddy".  Boy, I am blessed with good kids.

We leave for Mayo on Monday.  We should have answers from them by Tuesday or Wednesday I would think.  I don't want my cancer to come back but I don't want to die from chemotherapy either.  I am sure the doctors will figure out what balance of risk is best.  In the meantime we are praying that they will be inspired as they consider my case.