This all started in July of 2009. Hell, this was all new to me. I didn’t know at the time what was going to happen. I talked to my supervisors in August, and told them I did not know things were going to go.

Ok I need to backtrack a little. Back when we found out that cancer was a possibility, Sarah and I had talked about EVERTYTHING. Let’s be honest, the” C “word brings chills to anyone affected, whether it’s them or a family member. A friend of mine from work developed pancreatic cancer and died from it. He never said a word to any of his friends and co-workers, so needless to say, we all felt the impact of his loss. In contrast to his situation, when I found out I had cancer all I felt was, “Ok, how do we get over this INCONVENIENCE?” not thinking this would be anywhere near as bad as what he went through.

Little did I know what was coming? I suppose ignorance is bliss to some but that is truly not the case with me.

So back to the doctor, he informed me then that I needed to have a “Porta Cath” installed for ease of chemo administration, etc. He set me up with a surgeon to get this procedure done (more about that later).

We had a busy day that day. We decide to get all the appointments out of the way at once. Sarah had an appointment at our regular doctor (this man is an angel). She went in and after about a minute, the nurse asked me if I would please come into the room where she was.

I was thinking, “What else can go wrong today?”And when I went into the room, the doctor gave me a big hug and said,” It’s going to be ok. We are there for you”. He had already gotten the results of the tests from the Oncologist so he knew what we were up against. Then, the man (he’s definitely an extraordinary man, who just happens to be an M.D) spent 45 minutes talking to both of US. He took care of Sarah, who was hysterical, in 5 minutes. The rest of the time, he talked to us and advised us as how to go forward and that at the time, he understood that I wasn’t ready for emotional help (Hell no! I’m superman). He patiently explained to us that when I needed him he will be there. He was confident that I would need him eventually. (Why is he is always right?)

Ok, so by then a week or so passed, and I went in for my first bone marrow biopsy. I discovered that Demerol, and Ativan work well together and that is an awesome combination because the way my wife described the process, I was glad I was on my stomach, as well as sedated. At first, it just felt weird, this picking at my hip bone. When the doctor “sucked” or aspirated the marrow out of my hipbone, well, that part was a little “uncomfortable”. The whole process took about 30 min in all and afterwards I was just loopy as ever and having a fantastic time on the ride home. (Sarah feel free to interject here- Uh, yes, I can attest to his “shenanigans”. I had to shut and lock the controls to his window or else he was going to show the whole block his “boo boo” on his posterior! He kept spitting raspberries at me because I was killing his fun. - Sarah).

The biopsy results came back and it was determined that it showed I was at stage 2, which is highly treatable.

The oncologist set me up with a surgeon to install a “port a cath” (it’s a catheter in my upper chest) which basically makes giving chemo and blood draws a lot easier. This procedure was scheduled to be done at West Valley Hospital. After going through pre-op procedures, it only took 90 minutes and when I woke up, it was installed just above my right nipple. Now I proudly say I have 3 nipples.

And whatever you do, don’t drink coffee before surgery, no matter how addicted you are. Four hours prior to checking into the hospital, I decided to have just one cup. I got soooo sick in the recovery room after the surgery. Sarah had to keep reminding me to breathe because I would just stop; even the nurses were yelling over to me “Tom breath! You’re doing it again”. What an ordeal, it was a good thing I had the weekend to recover

I’m sure I’m probably boring you by now, so I’ll try to pick up the pace. Here are the facts:

On October 5, 2009, I worked my last day for the time being. I was so tired and exhausted. Normally a day of running 2 dorms would be nothing if I had the strength to do it. So the next day, I made the decision to go take some time off. I had to face it, chemo caught up with me, and I was no longer an anchor with the shift and now, suddenly, I was the weak link (hard fact to face). When inmates started to ask, “Hey, Williams you ok?” my reply was that I was just tired, no worries.

So I have to accept my limitations and let go of what I no longer was able to do and start taking care of myself. The chemo I was on was not as bad as others; however it had a tendency to have adverse effects on my body. Sure, it kills cancer cells but it also kills the good cells. Hell, who would think platelets were so important but when they get low 3 things happen: 1) you can bleed and continue to because you have reduced blood platelets to clot any wound, 2) the other is your energy falls to the floor 3) bruising is a big problem.

I would get frustrated because I just had limited energy to finish the day. Many times I had to hope to God nothing would happen at work. I knew that was why I took a leave of absence, I am not the man I was a year ago –I had lost the strength to take care of what needed to be done. Again, I felt like the weak link. I cannot lie, all I could think at this moment was: “This FUCKING INCONVIENCE” has taken a toll on my faith. Yet still believing that what you pray for from your heart you can have. I suppose I’m just in hurry up and wait for the doctor to come back from the country club and take care of me. The pain I have (peripheral neuropathy in my feet and legs) prevents me from going down the stairs without holding with both hands. When I first developed this, I fell 2 months ago. My tail bone is still sore.

So now I have to change who I am. I HAVE TO ACCEPT A DISABILITY! WTF! Is this is god’s way of humbling me (no I’m not superman)? Since I took short term disability, I have developed the previously mentioned severe neuropathy in my lower legs and feet. It is now to the point I’m now on neurontin, vicodin, and lots of Tylenol.

To say the least, this is not a vacation. My feet hurt with every step, my moods go up and down like a roller coaster. Pain tends to kill the spirit, so I do everything that I can to get rid of the pain. I’m not a pill popper, yet a vicodin every now and then sure makes a difference. I try to stick to Tylenol, because I don’t need an addiction to pain pills.

In this time frame, I’ve had a second bone marrow biopsy, and am awaiting the results. I’m feeling as if I am in limbo for now.

The only good news is that all is well with the family. Sarah is able to juggle school, me, kids, life, yet the real fun begins when I go into transplant mode too much to talk about here. It’s all explained on Google AmericanCancerSociety.org. Or you can get more info on the MMRF.org website. I’ll be receiving an autologus (self donor) stem cell transplant if all goes as planned. More to come…