Hey hey hey sports fans, Barcelona defeats Real 2-0 in the first leg of the UEFA Champions League semifinal! oh yea, BTW surgery was a success too!
Last thing I remember was wheeling down the surgical hallways on the way to the OR around 0815 hrs and then........1255 talking to Stephanie from the recovery room.
No real pain to speak of, sore throat and blink blink blink....
....sorry about that, closed my eyes for a few and 20 minutes passed.
So all good, I am minus one little friend and have been receiving all of the good thoughts wishes and prayers....boy you prayer warriors were out in force for me and I felt the power! You came through for me and I can never repay you, I love you all and appreciate you all and sincerely want to say thank you to all........see/talk to you soon......
My name is Gary and I have cancer. This blog was started to share with the folks that care what is going on with my journey........
4.27.2011
I believe in . . . God, Dirt & Surgery
Scalpel time is set for 8:30am tomorrow the 27th of April, year of our Lord 2011. After first feeling the lump on my throat those many months ago, the first major milestone of my journey is almost here. I feel relieved albeit frightened, somewhat melancoly and totally awed (I saw a similar surgery on YouTube) by what can be done by the human body and to the human body. And this time it's not just any body, it's my body.
I was raised in a traditional hispanic catholic home, went to a parochial elementary school and then to a catholic high school. I think it was not until the 7th grade that I saw my first lay teacher and she lasted short of a semester - could not come to grips with a bunch of catholic school kids who were raised by nuns. These nuns were a particularly "hardy" type who hailed from the Sisters of the Sacred Heart by way of Mexico. Read that to mean that they did not always speak english, they understood and practiced corporal punishment really really well and, somewhat obviously, they prayed for our sins (seems we had many in San Berdoo) on a regular basis. God was definitely looking out for me. After the thing with my eye, I thought I was dealt a stacked deck and needed to work my way out of it. I remember church being a place where we went spent lots of time during my formative years - mass, wedding, funerals, first holy communions, confirmations, etc. So, do I believe in God? You bet! God has provided the spiritual foundation upon which I have been built with a special nod of thanks to the sisters.
El Potrero plaza of Chimayó is known internationally for its Catholic chapel, the Santuario de Nuestro Señor de Esquipulas, commonly known as El Santuario de Chimayó. Through its reputation as a healing site believers claim that dirt from a back room of the church can heal physical and spiritual ills, it has become known as the "Lourdes of America" and attracts close to 300,000 visitors a year. I have some of that dirt. My cousin lives in New Mexico and when my Aunt was visiting, she went to the chapel and brought some back.tHis morning my mom prayed and rubbed some of the dirt on my neck. So, do I believe that the dirt has curative powers? You bet! My grandmother was a type of "currandera" in our neighborhood and would provide home remedies. I lived them then and I believe them now. I believe that there are forces at work that I do not completely understand yet must pay my due respects because my grandma taught me that it is so.
11/04/27; 0830 hours. I am wheeled into the operating room awaiting for the moment to be separated from my little friend. The modified radical neck dissection will free my body of the tumor, but my fear is that it will not truly free me to be the person I was before my friend made it's presence known. More specifically, do I really want to be the person I was before? Most would say you want to be better than before. All I know is that I will be different than I was. All I know is that this has scared me so much that I am willing to do most anything to make things better; but I know that I will always return to my roots, my core values, my traditional beliefs. Do I believe in surgery? You bet!
I was raised in a traditional hispanic catholic home, went to a parochial elementary school and then to a catholic high school. I think it was not until the 7th grade that I saw my first lay teacher and she lasted short of a semester - could not come to grips with a bunch of catholic school kids who were raised by nuns. These nuns were a particularly "hardy" type who hailed from the Sisters of the Sacred Heart by way of Mexico. Read that to mean that they did not always speak english, they understood and practiced corporal punishment really really well and, somewhat obviously, they prayed for our sins (seems we had many in San Berdoo) on a regular basis. God was definitely looking out for me. After the thing with my eye, I thought I was dealt a stacked deck and needed to work my way out of it. I remember church being a place where we went spent lots of time during my formative years - mass, wedding, funerals, first holy communions, confirmations, etc. So, do I believe in God? You bet! God has provided the spiritual foundation upon which I have been built with a special nod of thanks to the sisters.
El Potrero plaza of Chimayó is known internationally for its Catholic chapel, the Santuario de Nuestro Señor de Esquipulas, commonly known as El Santuario de Chimayó. Through its reputation as a healing site believers claim that dirt from a back room of the church can heal physical and spiritual ills, it has become known as the "Lourdes of America" and attracts close to 300,000 visitors a year. I have some of that dirt. My cousin lives in New Mexico and when my Aunt was visiting, she went to the chapel and brought some back.tHis morning my mom prayed and rubbed some of the dirt on my neck. So, do I believe that the dirt has curative powers? You bet! My grandmother was a type of "currandera" in our neighborhood and would provide home remedies. I lived them then and I believe them now. I believe that there are forces at work that I do not completely understand yet must pay my due respects because my grandma taught me that it is so.
11/04/27; 0830 hours. I am wheeled into the operating room awaiting for the moment to be separated from my little friend. The modified radical neck dissection will free my body of the tumor, but my fear is that it will not truly free me to be the person I was before my friend made it's presence known. More specifically, do I really want to be the person I was before? Most would say you want to be better than before. All I know is that I will be different than I was. All I know is that this has scared me so much that I am willing to do most anything to make things better; but I know that I will always return to my roots, my core values, my traditional beliefs. Do I believe in surgery? You bet!
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