Originally published August 21, 2012

NOTE:  Please read Part 1 before reading this.

The two-week wait for Dr. Maharaj’s office to reopen was undoubtedly at the top of my frustrations.

Being unable to control one’s destiny is at or near the top of that list.  

You know. It’s the circumstances that are tearing you apart emotionally and physically, but you have little or no control.

Although the voice message on Dr. Maharaj’s office indicated that they would not be checking messages during the two weeks, I left several messages, each a little more desperate than the previous.

I guess it was the ‘little Danny’ in me – hoping someone might check for voicemails.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Dr. Maharaj’s office contacted me to schedule an appointment for Wednesday at 11:30 am.

Sorry sir, but Dr. Maharaj is booked solid for the next three months.  We are actually squeezing you in on an already over-booked Wednesday.

Receptionist

I felt embarrassed.

Did I think I was the only person in Langley who needed to see Dr. Maharaj?

Fine, I’m sorry for being a nuisance.  It’s just that I’m a nervous wreck.  Thank you, for the appointment.  I’ll see you on Wednesday. 

Danny

It’s time to be a man, Danny, so pull up your britches.

When I was a kid, my mom would say, “Pull up your britches.”

I guess it was her way of saying,

Pull up your courage pants, Danny – you’re a big boy now!

My Ma

But then again, it was more likely because I didn’t have a belt, and my pants were constantly falling.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

I arrived an hour earlier than my 11:30 AM appointment – in case they were running ahead of schedule.

But the office was already full of people.

As I looked around the waiting room, I wondered why each was there; was it their ear, mouth, or throat? 

Were they here to learn the results of their tests, too?

Suddenly, I started to panic. I didn’t want to be there.

It was like having a toothache that goes away when you arrive at the dentist’s office.

Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t learned the test results.

Did I want to know?

Mr. St. Andrews?

Dr. Maharaj

Dr. Maharaj scanned the waiting room for me.

When I got up from my chair, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me as I followed the doctor down the hall and into his office.

He sat down beside me and smiled.

My heart was racing – was it good news?

The doctor was smiling – it must be good news!

Of course it was; why else would he be smiling?

I was just about to jump out of my chair with excitement when he announced:

Mr. St. Andrews, you have cancer.

Dr. Maharaj

The doctor then explained what type of cancer I had.

But I stopped listening after hearing the words ‘stage 3 throat/tongue cancer’ because I was in shock.

Dr. Maharaj explained the next steps, and I nodded that I understood.

But I didn’t – I was too numb to understand or to speak.

The doctor explained that I would receive radiation and chemotherapy treatments at the Fraser Valley Cancer Center in Surrey.

He indicated that oncologists would review my results and plot the appropriate treatment strategies.  He said the FVCC would be contacting me to set up an appointment.

Dr. Maharaj asked if I had any questions.

I wanted to ask him if I was going to die, but didn’t.

I didn’t want to know anything more, so I said no.

We shook hands, and I left his office.

Dr. Maharaj was an attentive doctor, and I felt comfortable with him.

I wondered how many times a day he had to inform patients that they had cancer. And how many of them were told they would likely die?

But as they say, “Don’t shoot the messenger!”

The doctor is now another one of my heroes.

Several days passed before I got a call from the Cancer Center.  An appointment was scheduled with a radiation oncologist on Tuesday, July 28, 2009.

Fraser Valley Cancer Center – July 28

I arrived at the Fraser Valley Cancer Centre (FVCC) for my appointment with Dr. Karvat, the radiation oncologist who will be treating me.

I was surprised by how young he appeared, but that was reassuring because he would be trained in the latest treatment protocols.

Daniel, you have stage 3 cancer inside the throat, and it’s also in several lymph nodes.  If we treat you with 37 days of radiation (the maximum), we have a 20% success rate.  But if we add chemotherapy treatments, we can double the survival success rate to 40%.

Dr. Karvat

I felt a scream developing in my throat, but I remained silent.

I could feel the fire inside of me starting to flicker.

I was sickened at dying, but that’s what I heard – only a 40% chance of surviving!

Less than 50/50 odds!

Dr. Karvat described the treatment, but I wasn’t listening.

I was in shock – again.

I stood to shake hands with the doctor, but my legs were suddenly unstable.

I sat back down on the chair and stared at the doctor.

He handed me a box of tissues, but I didn’t need it – I wouldn’t cry.

I just needed some time to sit and gather my thoughts.

Dr. Karvat patted me on the shoulder and told me to take whatever time I needed.

He said I should check at the desk before leaving for an appointment card.

We then shook hands, and he left the room.

Sitting there, I began wondering about preparations – what should I do?

My mind started going to dark and negative places because it was challenging to be positive.

I have never been a pessimist – I’m more of an optimistic realist.

After all, nothing has ever been handed to me in life. Almost everything I have been involved in has been a struggle.

But I’m not complaining – that’s just life.

I don’t believe in luck. Luck is winning a lottery despite 14 million to 1 odds.

I believe you have to make your luck in life.

But how would I fight cancer?

It meant relying on other people (the medical community) to fight the fight for me; I would be powerless, wouldn’t I?

Dr. Karvat’s receptionist gave me an appointment card with several dates and times.

She also gave me a new patient binder – filled with pages of information and booklets.

My next appointment would be the following day.

I wondered how many new patients Dr. Karvat saw each day and how many of them he had to give bad news about.  That had to be the most challenging thing to do.

He, too, is my hero!

I drove home.  It was the kind of drive I had to stop after going several miles to remember if I had gone through any red traffic lights. 

I was still in a state of complete numbness.

Holly was waiting for me at the door.

She is always excited to see me – with her tail wagging non-stop.

I sat down, and she jumped onto my lap – as she always does, and stared at me with her beautiful eyes – waiting for me to stare back.

When I finally made eye contact, I told her that her Daddy’s got a boo-boo!

I was still shocked and beginning to feel a little sorry for myself.  But there weren’t any tears – and I’m not sure why.

I thought about my Mom.

She lived in a retirement home near Toronto, so hiding my illness from her would be easier.

She had a fragile heart, and the news of my cancer would be too much for her to handle.

But a part of me – the little Danny inside – wanted a hug from his beloved Ma.

She would make everything better.

But I couldn’t be that selfish.

So I decided not to tell anyone in my family – except my youngest brother, Randy.

He had survived a near-death illness a few years ago, and I knew that he would keep my illness secret.

However, I emailed all of my close friends, advising them of my illness, and asked that they keep the information strictly confidential because of my mom’s health.

I also sent some of my Facebook friends a private note and asked them to keep the particulars confidential.

In both messages, I indicated that I would send future updates.

But the one thing I never shared with anyone was this: I feared my days were numbered.

To be continued.

Here’s a link to My Throat Cancer Survival – Part 3 of 4

Dedicated to Dr. Karvat

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.

Hugs,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

All our times have come
Here, but now they’re gone
Seasons don’t fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain
We can be like they are

Come on, baby (don’t fear the reaper)
Baby, take my hand (don’t fear the reaper)
We’ll be able to fly (don’t fear the reaper)
Baby, I’m your man

La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la

Valentine is done
Here but now they’re gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity (Romeo and Juliet)
40, 000 men and women every day (like Romeo and Juliet)
40, 000 men and women every day (redefine happiness)
Another 40, 000 coming every day (we can be like they are)

Come on, baby (don’t fear the reaper)
Baby, take my hand (don’t fear the reaper)
We’ll be able to fly (don’t fear the reaper)
Baby, I’m your man

La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la

Love of two is one
Here, but now they’re gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn’t go on

Then the door was open, and the wind appeared
The candles blew and then disappeared
The curtains flew, and then he appeared
Saying don’t be afraid

Come on, baby (and she had no fear)
And she ran to him (then they started to fly)
They looked backward and said goodbye (she had become like they are)
She had taken his hand (she had become like they are)
Come on, baby (don’t fear the reaper)

Songwriters: Donald Roeser

Here are other songs I’m listening to: These Songs Will Make You Smile Today.