Monthly Archives: June 2014

“We got it early, it’s stage one, prognosis is good, I will not die” #11

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Hello Cancer! Despite the news the world keeps turning. Today is Parker’s birthday, Dylan has a dance recital and Devin has prom. Michelle has questions and I give her what I have…which is very little.

“We got it early, it’s stage one, prognosis is good, I will not die”. That’s my answer. First, I thought I was being quiet. I was thinking how I was going to break the news to Michelle. Its the magic of humans. I had a buddy who had a theory in high school. He would say something like, “Don’t you think she’s a babe?” in his normal voice when the subject was close enough to hear. “shooosh! she’ll hear you” I would reply. “No she won’t, people hear whispers”. To prove his point he would elevate his voice and repeat with even more “compliments” describing her “babedom”. I would wait for the fallout. Nothing. He proved this theory over and over. Jay Wright’s theory holds true today. Michelle was tuned in to my conversation and knew the news wasn’t what we wanted to hear.

There I sit on the edge of the tub, around the corner with the shower running…carefully listening, speaking in a soft voice trying to retain the information. My head in my hands, we end the call with instructions that I will receive a packet in the mail with information about treatment options on Monday. I also make an appointment to meet him at Trinity Hospital Monday for a consult.

Michelle bounces out of bed and walks in and says, “What did he say?”. “I have cancer” Michelle snaps back, “and?”. “We got it early, it’s stage one, prognosis is good, I will not die”

She was prepared for it as was I. I was actually just glad to have the waiting behind us. Jason Love calls me and I tell him the news and he tells me that the number one thing we have to do is get me fixed…nothing else matters. Of all the people I know, I would choose Jason Love to shrink down, jump in my body and kick cancer’s ass. I will add that Jason wouldn’t let me choose anyone else. He would be the first volunteer and would fight the guy who tried to go first. He is fiercely loyal and and incredibly stubborn. I pick him.

Now there are four people who know. We have to tell the kids. We have stuff to do. I decide that waiting on mail is not what I’m going to do and arrange to pick the packet up at Eric’s office.

After lunch I pick up the packet and grab Parker and Jill…you know that part. I spend the rest of the day having fun. Even though I know that this won’t kill me, things are different now.

Saturday April 13th, 2014:  Today is a normal Saturday. My beloved 8 year old A’s have a game against the Angels at 1:45. We came in second place. We played tough but the game was fun. It is amazing how worked up we all get cheering on these little guys. It was a beautiful day…I felt different. Parker and I head home. We have to get ready for Devin’s prom. Michelle had dance recital duty and that went well. Dylan is a great dancer and a better daughter. She’s a “gamer”. She has an extra gear when the costume is on and the lights are shining. We head down to Samford University and take pictures which is actually kind of fun. I am chasing Michelle around, who is chasing Devin around taking pictures of Devin and her friends. I have watched this group of kids grow up from K-12. The boys are handsome and the girls are stunning. This all seems to mean a little more today. Image

 

Devin, some clown, and J.T.

After dinner I head down to the Spurlock’s. They are planning a recon mission to crash a wedding to scout out the band for their daughter’s wedding. Because of my obvious skill set I am recruited into the mission at the last minute. We walk into this formal wedding with confidence. Wisely, we have dressed down so as not to attract any attention to ourselves. We move from corner to corner…The band hasn’t started. We have no sound to guide us to our cause. We survey the landscape and spot the doorway to a big tent. Ah hah!

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The band is about to start. We need proof for the bride. I step up and ask them to pose for a picture. The oblige. We listen to them play a few songs as we plot our course to escape. They sounded great! Thumbs up. Its a go….we’re off to Fleming’s to meet Michelle With no loss of life to the delegation we will celebrate our successful assignment. The bride will undoubtably be pleased with our report.

During this great night I wrestle with the whole, “should I tell ’em now?” thing. I elect to save it. Essentially this is the first setting I have to start letting those closest to Michelle and I know what’s up. I am completely aware that ever time I tell someone close to me I am essentially hitting them over the head with bad news. Its a punch in the mouth and I need to have a plan for Monday.

Monday-Wednesday April 15-17, 2014: Today I tell Justin the bad news and he has been beside me every step of the way. He, as much as Michelle knows everything that is going on as it is happening. I say this,”We got it early, it’s stage one, prognosis is good, I will not die”.

We talk a lot today. Justin has questions and he asks them. This is great because I need to have answers and he fires away as I do my best to answer. This day is preparing me for the “new normal” for the next few weeks as word gets out. I flip the page on one of my many pads on my desk. Justin laughs because I am constantly “running” three pads. A small side spiral. a small flip spiral and a yellow legal pad. The yellow legal pad will be called into duty as I make my list of people to call and “bang over the head” with my news.

I work inside out. From my closest friends to my best friends to my really good friends to my dear friends. This is a great plan if everyone answers on the first call. Its close enough for “guvm’t work”. It will have to do. It is a draining process. I leave one voice mail because I now I will get that call back pretty quick. Dane doesn’t disappoint. He offers me every resource available. No surprise. I have known him for twenty-eight years and offers love and prayers and support.

I make it halfway down the list before I grow tired of unloading this burden to my friends. I elect to send an email to the rest.

Here it is:

On Apr 17, 2014 3:18 PM, “David Surber” <David.Surber@cellularsales.com> wrote:

Greetings from Dixie!

I have some news to share with you that I had planned on calling you to discuss but quite frankly I am tired of talking about.

 

I have joined an exclusive club that will inevitably gain me entry into a much better club.  Cancer Survivor…”Eye of the Tiger” Baby

 

I have been diagnosed with Stage 1 Prostate cancer. I will not die from it.

 

If you were forced to pick a cancer this is the one you want. We caught it early and I will live a long prostate free life.

It will not kill me… I have a 92% survival rate.

If you had to pick a city and a group of doctors in the universe to handle this…Birmingham is top 3 in the universe.

 

I’m in great hands. I will have surgery June 11th. It will require one night in a hospital. I will be back on my feet two weeks after that.

I will set records for recovery.

No chemo or radiation is required at this point nor is it anticipated.

 

This journey began in January with a simple physical exam at my GP. He checked my blood for Prostate-Specific Antigen or PSA count which was high. Checked it again at my urologist, Dr. Jellyfingers and it was higher.

April 4th I had the really awesome experience of participating in a prostate biopsy…..Look it up…Kinda sucked.

 

2 or the 12 tissue samples showed microscopic cancer (RC that means little itty bitty)

 

I got it early. We caught it early. Kill the Cancer…Save the Boner!

 

I have suggested a prostate going away party…It could be fun!

 

I am well. I will live…Life is good.

 

I share this with you not as a burden..I have dubbed this adventure “an inconvenient gift” .

 

I will document and share this journey and encourage all of my friends to stop being a wuss and go get your annual physical….make sure you ask about your PSA and if nothing else in my non-professional logical opinion is to get a bench mark…

The rectal exam is fine if provided a delicious pinot. But it’s a waste of time if they aren’t testing your PSA levels in your blood.

 

My prostate was normal.

 

So get on it boys!

 

Sorry for the heavy news..I wanted you to “hear it” from me before it hits the network.

 

Please receive this as good news and know I am in good hands.

 

Surber

 

Obviously some things have changed since I penned this email. I didn’t have surgery on June 11th.

So now the journey continues as I begin to gather information. Share my news and continue as though nothing is wrong.

I close with this note:

I spent many nights up to the diagnosis trying to figure out what to pray. How do you pray for a miracle? First you ask for it. “Lord heal me entirely. kill this cancer inside of me and let me be your witness….okay okay I know I’m being a little greedy Lord….there are many more deserving people in need of a miracle….I’m guessing you have picked me….that’s fine. I accept your mission…I pray that when your will is revealed that I am smart enough to see it. I accept it is not a curse but a gift….an inconvenient gift”. That prayer sums up my usual nightly prayer. This blog provides an outlet and hopefully does something for somebody.

I will share how we broke the news to the kids next.

please follow the blog and you will be receive an email notification on my updates. I am not going to edit this now I will later. I fired my editir for not showing up for the first day or wrok. (see what  Idid there?).

 

Happy Birthday Parker #10

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Friday, April 11, 2014: Mr. Handsome a.k.a. Parker turns eight today. If we had to file his birthday with the “Birthday Police” we would be locked-up. It was pitiful and the outcome of this day impacts our lives in two different ways.

First, Saturday is Devin’s senior prom and Dylan has a dance recital. The effort that goes into both of these events is pretty massive and Michelle orchestrates this symphony alone. Dresses, costumes, dinners, snacks, transportation, logistics, makeup, manicures, pedicures, hairdo’s, hairdo-not’s, It takes weeks for this to all either fall into place or be hammered into the place where “it” must go. It is brutal. Let’s add the emotion of two teenagers and the mother who is in charge…Mom. The flight of a butterfly is a pretty accurate description of this week as well as many other days prior to this week.

Parker and I just sit back and stay out of the way. Occasionally I am called in to referee or make a ruling….I am very well respected around this household. I try not to be logical and make a ruling I believe to be best…I always, always, always want to support their Mother. Don’t misunderstand what I am saying here. I’m not saying Michelle isn’t logical…quite the opposite. If I was in charge of the girls during these episodes I would blindly nod yes to everything. No sir..If Michelle asks me a “yes” or no” question. I don’t need to know the question. I need to know the answer.

I have a 50% chance of getting it right so I must look for clues before I arrive at the bench for the epic battle of “Mom -vs- Daughter”. As Judge David, I pretend to listen intently but instead I am reading body language, listening for buzz words and voice inflection. “Mom said I have to…” & “I’m your Mother…”, are very common starts to a powerful opening statement.

Not long ago I decided to block out the actual argument because I kept getting the wrong answer…I’m a man. As Michelle has raised me for the last twenty years I am learning to learn. So, my approach is to look at both, sometimes all three of the participants. Figure out who is who. Look attentive, engaged and nod. The only thing I really have to do is watch the time so it doesn’t get out of control. Imagine if you will; words flying, fingers pointing, arms crossing, eyes piercing, eyebrows rising, and voices voicing. Suddenly it stops. This is my cue to make my ruling. I look at Michelle. I look at Daughter. I look at Michelle….Now remember, the odds are fifty-fifty here….for the common man. I proclaim, “Mom’s right! just do what she says”. I walk away and its over. When Mom wins, I win. I like winning and people like winners.

As I explained to Parker, “The main thing is, don’t get excited, remain calm”. Bill Palmer said that years ago and it stuck. While I wasn’t getting excited, I should have planned something for my son. I failed there. I failed to execute. I had some ideas but never pulled the trigger. All I have is a handful of excuses. Michelle made a last ditch effort to make Parker’s birthday a bit more than an ordinary day and arranges for Parker’s buddy Jill to come home after school. Michelle is good like that. She was not so busy that his birthday wasn’t on her mind, she just needed me to step up. Fail. So, I pick them up after school and we go to Yogurt Mountain and have some sweet treats. When I’m with a couple of first graders I am truly with my peer group. We have as much fun as we can have being silly. Luckily it’s a beautiful day and a Friday to boot.

Our neighborhood was full of kids in its day. That day has passed. Parker’s best friends in the neighborhood are Mr. Charlie and Miss Lisa next door. They are so sweet to Parker and he really enjoys visiting them….hopefully no more than they enjoy his visits. I hope they don’t call him Dennis.

It is this day that I realize we can’t stay back here in this beautiful quiet neighborhood. I couldn’t even call an “emergency” birthday party. Twelve months ago, this was our “forever home”. Michelle has been telling me about a house 2.0 “crow miles” and 4.7 “car miles” away from our home. I’m gonna go check it out. With the sun in our hair and sugar in our veins I suggest a quick ride to this property Michelle keeps casually mentioning….every day. The neighborhood isn’t any bigger than our neighborhood, but it has something that our current hood is missing…basketball goals. Not the rusty, “net-free” ones that litter the driveways in my current burb. Shiny, modern, new, black basketball goals. Driving in the car, I have Parker count on the right and Jill count on the left. We start on one end of this street and move to the other. As we crawl up the street and around the corner and down the hill they count, “1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9….”. “Wait! this one has two”, yells Jill. “Eleven!” I reply. One last house on our jaunt without a goal but clear evidence that kids live there, probably little girls. I say, “Okay, sooooo the final tally is eleven basketball goals at ten houses…right? “Yah!” they exclaim…Okay let’s go home. Motivated by guilt I am now officially open to moving.

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Let me back up to Thursday. Sometimes it is more stressful to “go on as if” than it is to “go on as is”. I ran into Eric at lunch and he apologized that he still didn’t have the results. He really was sorry. As I am prone to do…I apologize too. I’m trying to pretend it’s no big deal and it really doesn’t matter because it will all be over in a few days once we rule out cancer…No biggie. Although we were still with in he 7-10 day period he promised, I was really hoping to have the results by Wednesday, Thursday at the latest. The good news is I knew not to expect any more news the rest for the day. There’s always tomorrow. I found my way to Blackwell’s to blow off a little steam by way of a couple of pints of beer. Delicious IPA was on my mind so I enjoyed a couple of beers and hung out with a few buddies. I head back to the house and enjoy a couple of more beers with Michelle who has decided to join me with a glass of wine. The suds loosened me up a little bit and I had a little bit of a come-apart. Michelle will say I had a pretty big come-apart….”drama queen”.

We were both trying to make the week as normal as usual and we did a good job because I questioned Michelle’s understanding of what’s at stake. She confesses to her “googlings” and that she has been reading about this on the “inter web”. She has been quietly worrying the whole time. Googling the topic is something that I deliberately didn’t do. I don’t want to get caught up in the misinformation super highway. I did have one “Google breakdown” the night before the biopsy and because the information I read was so old I dismissed it. I read about a guy who had a prostatectomy ten years ago. His writings actually inspired me to start this blog. It was very direct and I liked his brash style…it was “guy speak” for sure. I take my brave face off and set it down next to the rest of my armor. We talk about it and the possibilities. I’m David Surber. Everything always works out.

Back to Friday: Michelle got Parker to school and came home and retired to the bed. I was about to hop in the shower and my phone rang. With the water running I quietly took the call. Eric is on the phone and he gets right to it. Basically he says he got the results, I have cancer on both lobes (I check my ears), we got it very early, everything is going to be fine. I responded with something to the effect that I’m not surprised and everything pointed to this and I appreciate him calling and I acknowledge that I know this is not a call he wanted to make. He apologizes for the “crap news” (which does sound better than “bad news”) and he says his office will mail me some material and we can schedule a consultation the next week.

I’m David Surber. Everything always works out. I’m David Surber.

What’s A Couple of Days? #9

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What’s a couple of days? Really…We have spent our whole lives chasing “a coupe of days away”. Hump Day is founded on “a couple of days away”…Christmas Eve Eve…is “a couple of days away”. Is “a couple of days” really two days? Sometimes its three days away or even four…After “a couple of days” comes, “about a week away. Who knows? I guess it all depends on the occasion and your outlook.

Monday arrives and I am out of fuel and out of whatever it is that has gotten me through the last three days. I don’t remember how long  I slept but it was at least twelve hours. I’ve run out of optimism. I don’t remember being depressed or in the dumps. I’m just a little off of my game. Tuesday I have a pretty busy day including a Chamber lunch for the Vestavia Hills Chamber of Commerce. I am an Ambassador for the Chamber and today I am charged with the task of helping the attendees find their name tags. It sounds easy…I guess it is pretty easy except for the backwards upside down alphabetical order they are stored. It is a puzzle of sorts….and today my idiot gene is showing itself. The luncheon was a pretty good distraction. I was sitting in my office not thinking about “it”. I had to put my smile on and engage the folks who were in front of me. If only for three hours, the event helped me get my head back on straight and shake “it” off. That’s just what I did. I’m almost half through, “a couple of days” and I should get the results back tomorrow….or Thursday at the latest….hopefully. I head back to the office, I have a good day and manage to be productive.

Tuesday winds down and leads to Wednesday. Parker’s baseball coach set up an event for the baseball team to go on the field with the defending Southern League Champs, The Birmingham Barons.courtesy: Ken Gables

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What a night! It was the prettiest day of the year. The little boys are out there with the big boys. It was kinda cool for a couple of reasons. The minor league guys aren’t living the dream…they’re in pursuit of their dreams. My understanding of minor league baseball is that these guys are living on pennies. They don’t have fame or live the lifestyle of the guys in, “The Show”. Most of these guys were “famous” in their hometown high school or maybe college. Their “new normal” is part of the price they must pay to chase their MLB dream. Long gone are the accolades and press clippings. But this night, they are heroes to little boys. They are signing autographs and being looked up to by young ball players. This night they are baseball heroes.

I don’t know who smiled more, the parents or the kids. I was a little restless and dumber than usual. I like to be in the middle of it. I love people and I love learning about people….not today. Today, I sat back I kept my distance and tried to take it all in. The kids are running around the outfield. The parents are divided up and in a steady rotation between people and topics. The bats are cracking. One ball was fouled over in our direction. The outfielder snagged it and tossed it up to the kids. They were thrilled. It was a slice of Americana served up with a side of sweet tea.

I bet Parker he would fall asleep before we reached our fifteen minute destination. He won the bet. He was exhausted but was not going to lose to me. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to sit and do nothing at home in my office without interruption. Life’s about choices…I would never get that day “right” without choosing Parker and baseball over me and…well, me.

I get one right on occasion. Let’s hope Eric calls me tomorrow with the good news.