Lone Warrior - Point Man

Yesterday, MaryBeth and I along with two young cancer survivors talked about our cancer journeys in a Health Psychology class at Rice University.  The first young women had been pregnant with her second child when diagnosed.  Her hospitalization required separation from her baby and for her to miss most of the first year of the baby’s life.  The psychological pain she described was horrific, and she talked about the therapy it took to believe in life again.  The second young lady talked about her rare cancer, remission, and recurrence after six years.  Her story was more about the fight with her parents, and physician to delay treatment so she could freeze her eggs.  A stand she took because she was not willing to give up her dream of becoming a mom one day. 

Their stories reminded me of my cancer journey and how my life experience affected my early years of living with cancer.  Growing up in Louisiana I was very comfortable with the swamps and all its critters, mosquitos, poisonous snakes, spiders, and plants.  During my Ranger training, I gained the nickname Swamp Rabbit, because I was one of the best pointman in my platoon.  Boy Scouts had given me a confidence with a compass and map, I had good outdoor eyes and ears, and a sixth sense about danger.  More importantly, I was confident and comfortable being a “lone warrior”.  My lone warrior skills kept me alive during the real skirmishes I faced on active duty. 

The first five years of my battle with cancer were hard on us as a couple because of my lone warrior approach.  It was hard for me to understand why she was begging me to give up my lone warrior pointman position.  I was leveraging my strengths as a lone warrior and fighting the most important battle of my life.  The same month cancer spread to my lymph nodes, MaryBeth was diagnosed with breast cancer, and I realized it was no longer my battle, but our battle.  We now share the point position, plan our battle tactics together, and fight our cancer battles almost always side-by-side.  I still rely on my warrior skills, but now MaryBeth and I are getting stronger together! 

Walking with Angels

Last week I had been teaching in Mays Clinic and walked to the chapel for a few quiet moments.  As I sat alone a line in the lyrics of Jim White’s Borrowed Wings ran through my thoughts, “You can’t get to heaven on no borrowed wings”.  The greens in the garden started to run together as my eyes teared up, and then a family entered and formed a prayer circle in the back with chairs.  I grabbed some tissue and left. 

Last night as I shared time with a Breast Cancer Support group in Bay Area, Jim White’s line came back as I listened to their stories filled with fear, courage, and hope.  The woman sitting next to me had just finished her chemo, and talked about how walking quiets her mind and helps her go to that place of inside out healing.  Many talked about their daily struggles to find that place of inside out healing through self-time, pray, meditation, reading the Bible, pets, working as volunteers, and caring for others.  “You can’t get to heaven on no borrowed wings”, we all have this journey called life to walk, one step at a time. 

Chemo Side Effects Kick In

Last Thursday, exactly two weeks into my new oral chemo the side effects kicked in.  Friday, I woke up really weak but kept thinking all I needed was a good breakfast to get back my energy.  I sat at one of the tables next to the breakfast line too weak to stand.  A young woman offered to buy my oatmeal, “you do so much for us, allow me do this for you, my prayers are with you”, I tried hard not to cry.  I stopped by employee health and Georgia Thomas caringly told me to go home.  All day Friday I slept, MaryBeth woke me a few times with soup and water, but Saturday I felt even weaker. 

Saturday afternoon I told MaryBeth I needed to go to the emergency room and erroneously told her we needed permission from BCBS.  After several frustrating calls to get permission, we finally reached my primary care physician who after listening suggested I was dehydrated.  My temperature had almost reached 100, and although I had stopped vomiting, my diarrhea had continued.  Immediately, MaryBeth forced me to drink, and I ate almost a complete box of whole wheat crackers, as prescribed by my PCP.  Saturday night I felt better, and Sunday the grandkids came over, but I was still weak, so did more watching than playing, but it was so good for my soul. 

It had been years since I had bad dreams about passing so suddenly I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to those who had meant so much.  Several times in the Army when men around me were killed the shock would harvest these dreams.  In Fridays dreams, I was lying there unable to reach or say the things I so wanted to, to so many.  Early this morning, as I passed by the evening parking crew at Texas Children’s as I do every morning, they waved and smiled as they do every morning.  And it dawned on me, if I passed suddenly, most would remember my smile and my passion for life – and if that was all I got, it was a good goodbye.

Sutent Mini-Vacation

Yesterday was the end of my second week of taking the oral chemo Sutent.  Because of its toxicity, they ran blood tests to ensure that it had not impacted the function of my liver and kidneys.  My oncologists was pleased for almost all the values were normal and my cancer marker (PSA) was down almost a whole point.  This past year my PSA has been slowly creeping up as the tumors slowly grew in my lymph nodes, hips, and ribs, so yesterday’s finding was cause for a smile.    This week I will continue taking the oral chemo Zytiga with Prednisone, which I’ve been on for almost 6 months, but I get a week off from the Sutent.  The research shows that a 2 week on and 1 week off Sutent schedule improve tolerability, efficacy, and health-related quality of life.  So if you see me this week and I appear a little less energetic, I’m just enjoying my Sutent mini-vacation and resting.  Even an energy bunny like me needs rest every once in a while – smile. 

Lava Flow Sunset

They had given us a corner suite last week in Chicago, and the sunsets from the room were magnificent.  We stood in awe the first evening and watched to lava sky unfold, and each day after, rushed back to our room mindful of the unexpected gift we had received.  Of late, I’ve been thinking more about the unexpected gifts I’ve received in my life journey, and their effect on who I have become.  Love and friendships have nurtured my understanding of heart-led living and increased the sacred joy I experience through relationships.  Strengthened by my daily practice of loving-kindness meditation and gratitude, I experience more lava flow sunsets, even on cloudy days.  Do you need to add more lava flow sunsets to your life?

Prayers on the Wings of a Butterfly

Sunday, MaryBeth, Auggie, and I headed to the McGovern Centennial Gardens and after a few short stops ended up on a log bench in the beautiful Family Gardens.  Surrounded by the rich smell of herbs, and flowers of all colors I was transfixed by two Monarch butterflies playing chase.  Every autumn, the monarch butterflies east of the Rockies migrate from as far north as Canada to Mexico. Memory is not their guide — no one butterfly makes the round trip — but each year they somehow find their way.  The sun felt good, as I thought, like the Monarch butterfly, somehow I’d found my way through the last couple of months of hardships at work, and with my spreading cancer.  My internal smile grew as I thought about how my prayers are like the wings of the Monarch butterfly, somehow releasing me each day from life pain, and allowing me to be.  May your prayers be on the wings of a butterfly…

Giant "X" Vapor Trails

Giant “X” Vapor Trails

The HERO Forum15 was one of those awesome moments in life when as Thornton Wilder suggested in his play Our Town, “you realize life as you are living it.”  There were many individuals that had been a part of my 35 year worksite wellness journey at the HEROForum15, many who I had not seen for years, and many I will probably never see again.  We all had aged, but as we bonded again, I realized their eyes and voices still held the same passion that spoke to me so many years ago.  Yesterday, MaryBeth and I did several long walks, and on one I watched two jets cross paths leaving a giant “x” vapor trail in the sky.  It reminded me of how my life has been blessed with so many individuals that have shared a part of their life with me and the giant “x” vapor trails we’ve left behind. 

Below is my acceptance speech for the Bill Whitmer Leadership Award I gave last Tuesday, September 29^th.  I had been asked to talk about my entry into the field and my leadership journey.  What struck me as I reread the speech this weekend was how many giant “x” vapor trails I’ve made with others along the way.  What giant “x” vapor trail have you made with someone else lately?

Thanks Susan Bailey for recommending me for this award, and being more than a good friend, more like a daughter.

When I was 5, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and she died when I started college, the same year my dad declared bankruptcy.  Army ROTC was one of the ways I worked my way through undergraduate school, serving in the Army as an Airborne Ranger.  I came back from war, like many, looking for redemption, and immediately went to work for a big church.  Six months into the job I broke my back in a car accident when a car hit me at a red light.  After a spinal fusion of four of my lumbar vertebra, I spent six months in the hospital and six months in a full body cast, before I learned how to walk again.  Somewhere around my 3^rd or 4^th month in the hospital I watched a young man come into the room across the hall with multiple injuries from a motor cycle accident.  I could only see the lower half of his body, and after several weeks, they took one leg and then the other.  The day he had no legs I promised myself if I ever walked again I would find a profession where I could help people that weren’t as lucky as me.  This experience over 40 years ago is what drives my passion for wellness. 

My dad died of cancer almost 25 years ago, and he never really understood what I did for a living or the concept of worksite wellness, he wanted me to be a psychologist like the rest of the family.  But my parents gave me values that have guided my life and work. The values of purpose, passion, perseverance, engagement, faith, and caring.   Receiving this award tonight, honors my parent’s faith in life, its wholeness, and its goodness. 

One of my favorite Baun-isms is “we don’t do life alone”, and there are many who have been the winds under my sail.  Bob Patton and Peter Raven guided my graduate programs, fueled my scientific curiosity and gave me a passion for excellence.  Ed Bernacki at Tenneco and Georgia Thomas at MD Anderson supervised and collaborated with me for a combined 26 years allowing me to grow, and for me to grow those I managed.  There are many individuals that pushed, prodded, and collaborated with me on research, writing, and projects that have spanned for decades and significantly changed our field.  My superhero’s: Michael O’Donnell, Nell Gottlieb, David Hunnicutt, Len Berry, Ron Goetzel, Nico Pronk, Sheela Sharma, and George Pfeiffer.  And of course, my biggest supporter is my wife, MaryBeth.  What an awesome journey – thank you all so very much!