What Defines Me

When I was in the throes of cancer treatment and so miserable with nausea and the lower GI's, I ran across this aphorism: “What Cancer Cannot Do! Cancer is so limited … It cannot cripple Love; It cannot shatter Hope; It cannot corrode Faith; It cannot destroy Peace; It cannot kill Friendship; It cannot suppress Memories; It cannot silence Courage; It cannot invade the Soul; It cannot steal Eternal Life; It cannot conquer the Spirit. Author Unknown”

I printed this maxim and posted it within easy sight of my recliner where I spend a goodly amount of time on the pity pot. Then I added one more line to the ditty: “Cancer does not define me!”

“There,” I said to myself. “With God's help, prayers from my family and friends, and some fine doctors, I'm going to whip this disease. It does not define me!”

Then the cancer treatment gave me colitis, and I was really miserable. There would be times when Ginnie cooked a nice meal and, in the middle of it, I would have to run for the loo. Still, “Cancer does not define me,” I told myself.

Then, I was cancer free, but I had to have new infusions to clear up the colitis. They made me sick also. Whoopee! Will this ever end?

Shortness of breath was soon to follow, which led to hospitalizations a couple of times. “Bilateral Pulmonary Embolisms” (blood clots in both lungs) was the diagnosis. Ginnie and I sat in stunned silence at what just about happened. (Blood clots can kill.) Where did they come from? It was never determined. I was sent home with a major blood thinner.

But the shortness of breath didn't subside and now included some chest pounding. I was back in the emergency room and back in the hospital. I'd had a minor heart attack. A 70% blockage of the Widow Maker artery was discovered. I had two heart catheterizations with stents and balloons installed.

Once again, Ginnie and I sat in stunned silence. I'd had a heart attack. Maybe the culmination of all these illnesses — cancer, colitis, pulmonary embolisms, heart attack — was defining me. Throw in dizziness from neuropathy, the fact that I'm walking with a cane, have a temporary handicap parking sticker, and occasionally use the electric cart at the supermarket — what kind of picture does this paint? When the handwriting is on the wall, read it. These illnesses, I hated to admit, which had been going on for close to two years, were defining me.

However, following a heart event, Cardiac Rehabilitation was recommended. I plugged into the system. Lo-and-behold there's a little set of warm-up exercises they have you do before you jump on the exercise machines. They involve 12 different body movements — head, neck, shoulders, hips, legs, etc.--that seem rather inconsequential. However, I noticed immediately that the dizziness from neuropathy was diminished. Hallelujah! I brought the exercise instructions home and am doing them before I walk on my treadmill.

I no longer walk with a cane. I'm wondering if my temporary handicap parking sticker will be renewed. Do I need it? The walking would probably do me good.

But I obviously needed a lifestyle change. Exposure to ultraviolet rays had caused the Merkel Cell Carcinoma. So no more direct sun exposure for fair-skinned me. A lifetime of eating like a pig had caused an artery blockage. My diet had to change. A benefit of my health insurance is 28 home delivered meals following hospitalization. I opted for the low calorie, heart healthy meals. They're not bad.

Illness does not define me.

Have a good story? Call or text Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526 or email him at curtswarm@yahoo.com. Curt is available for public speaking.