Surviving Colorectal Cancer, Part 33
In early November of 2024, Maria and I spent 10 days traveling back East to visit my three sons and their families. I had not seen most of them since before the COVID-19 pandemic and my cancer treatments and surgery.
I’m not embarrassed to say I sobbed tears of joy as I hugged my sons and held them close. I also shed tears as I embraced their wives and my six grandchildren. The two youngest grandsons, whom I had never met, were a bit wary at first. After all, I was a stranger to them.
The visit was #2 on the cancer survivor list Maria and I started when I began chemotherapy in the summer of 2022.
We timed our visit to coincide with the birthday of my oldest son, who has grown into the role of de facto head of the younger family generation. A highlight of the visit was a Sunday afternoon birthday party for him that included my youngest son and his family.
The kindergarten daughter of my youngest son, the only girl among my six grandchildren, charmed Maria with her openness and energetic somersaults. She’s the princess of my family, much like Maria’s only granddaughter among seven grandchildren is the princess of Maria’s family.
My youngest grandson, recently out of diapers, is introverted like his father and I are. But he delighted us with his attempted somersaults to emulate his sister. They cuddled with us on the sofa while their mother clicked iPhone photos to send to us by WhatsApp.
My sister-in-law, a retired attorney, was at the birthday party. We shared our distress about the USA presidential election and she gave me a hug. My ex-wife, with whom I separated and divorced before moving to Mexico in 2007, was also there but we didn’t embrace and the conversation was strained. Time has resolved most differences between us, almost, but some tension remains.
It was a very enjoyable afternoon, bringing three generations together again. Times like these satisfy my soul. My oldest son’s wife managed to get a picture of the three generations to commemorate the occasion.
Who knows how often all of us will be together again? A year from now, or two or three?
The 10 days included a trip to Connecticut to visit my second son and his family. His oldest son had an upcoming birthday in late November, which was a good excuse to take both of his boys to shop for presents. We topped off the shopping spree with a visit to their local Dunkin’ Donuts for one of their favorite treats. Back at their house after dinner, Maria took a picture of me and my son and his family with the boys clutching presents.
Leaves on the trees beyond their Connecticut backyard were almost gone, but enough colorful leaves remained to delight Maria and remind me of my 35 autumns in the Northeast. Many more colorful leaves remained on trees in Maryland where my oldest son’s wife took Maria and me on a countryside tour to buy tree-ripened apples.
From my oldest son’s living room, Maria and I watched three deer grazing 100 feet away on his back lawn in the late afternoon light after emerging from the surrounding forest of large hardwood trees. There are no deer or hardwood forests where we live in the suburbs of Guadalajara, and the trees reminded me of the forests on a Missouri farm in my youth.
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The woods are lovely and I miss them, but I don’t miss ice and snow and cold temperatures.
The visit allowed me to interact with both sons of my oldest son, one still in high school and the other in his second year at college. The younger son’s homework assignment for logarithmic equations was unrecognizable to me. Both he and I chuckled at my inability.
One weekend, we took a day trip to see the college man more than two hours away. We had lunch at a seafood restaurant overlooking the Patuxent River and talked about his college life. He enjoys his science courses and wants to become a veterinarian, and his eyes flashed with excitement while discussing field trips with his campus rock climbing club.
Overall, the trip was a very satisfying experience. I definitely want to make the trip again, maybe next August when three family members back there have birthdays during one week.
Now that I’ve checked off the #2 item on my cancer survivor checklist, I’m rethinking more items.
Truthfully, the 10-day trip tested my mental acuity and physical endurance and I was drained at the end of every day.
Sometimes, I had trouble determining the best options for flights and ground transportation. I knew where I wanted to go but the choices seemed overwhelming. My two oldest sons helped me arrange flights and hotels, and I used Uber and airport taxis when my sons weren’t available. No more driving in USA traffic for me or Maria.
My oldest son also helped me get to medical appointments, including a hearing test for me and four vaccinations for both Maria and me. (I was amazed at the cost of the vaccinations, but my BlueCross/Blue Shield international insurance paid for all of it.)
The air travel was exhausting and challenging even with seats in business or first class. I needed wheelchair assistance everywhere in the airports, especially in Dallas where the connecting flights were in distant terminals. Fortunately, I didn’t need to use a restroom on the planes and I was able to use airport restrooms with only my four-footed cane.
Chilly fall temperatures back East were 20 degrees cooler than in Guadalajara and I caught a cold two days before our return trip. I slept until noon the day before our 10-hour flight to Guadalajara. Back home, my cold turned into bacterial bronchitis that stressed my compromised immune system. My oncologist prescribed three days of antibiotics by injection and tablets to help me recover.
The bottom line is that I’m not planning to add other items to my survivor checklist right away. Clearly, I need to regain the mental and physical health that deteriorated during two years of chemo and radiation and two surgeries.
A weekend getaway for a walking tour in the UNESCO heritage city of Zacatecas in central Mexico will have to wait until I feel better next year. Exploring the Colima volcano in western Mexico with friends from California has been postponed indefinitely. A European trip Maria wanted may never happen.
As an 81-year-old survivor of advanced colorectal cancer, and still recovering, I’ve learned that the future is uncertain. I need to focus on enjoying life one day at a time.
I’m not complaining about anything during the trip, the aftermath, or about the future. I’m just chronicling facts and observations and thoughts to help people understand my recovery period.
