Team William: Week 5 of Radiation Complete an update from William, the man behind the mask!

I hate clichés. But I suppose they become commonplace because they actually apply, and over the past few weeks, it seems that when it rains, it really does pour.

Let’s go back to September 9^th for a minute. I open the mail and get a bill from Cricket Wireless. For $2,400. There are all kinds of inappropriate jokes I could insert here, but I’ll just say that I am not a Cricket Wireless customer. Nor have I ever set foot in one of their stores. On closer inspection of the bill, I realized it was not actually from Cricket Wireless, but from a financing company that opened a line of credit in my name. What really scares me is that not only did the phone purchasers in North Carolina get my name and address right, they also used the correct social security number.

So for the first time, I don’t even feel bad calling myself a victim. I’m a victim of identity theft. And here’s another cliché. Why doesn’t the perpetrator have to take the good with the bad? I’d even agree to it. You take all my money, and you take the disease. I’ve already basically agreed to that. Ask my doctors.

The worst part about the whole identity theft debacle is that it’s like being inserted into a really involved scavenger hunt. You call Company A, and they send you to Company B, and if you find the right hint after searching through their phone system for twenty minutes, you get to move on to Company C. And if everything works out, if you play your hand perfectly, you get nothing. Literally, that’s the best possible outcome. Your credit score doesn’t get obliterated, you don’t have people hounding you for payments, and you don’t pay bills for things you didn’t purchase. You get nothing. Good day, sir.

And now I’ve written a very negative post. Hopefully someone reading this has been through it and realizes how frustrating it is.

All in all, the past week or two has been very good, physically speaking. I’m still handling treatment pretty well with only some fatigue. I’m through week five of six with radiation with last treatment being on September 30, and I get a break for a month once that regimen is complete. It will be nice, because I will finally be able to pretend for a little while that this is not actually happening.

Every night, Abigail has been involved in the treatment. She doesn’t really understand what it’s all about, but she helps me gather up my pills, and sometimes she even likes to put them in my mouth and make sure I swallow them. But a lot of times, she’ll say, “Daddy, is it time to take your chemo?” And to hear that from your own little innocent daughter brings it home. There’s no denying that it’s real at that point. And even though she has no idea what it means and has none of the associations with chemotherapy that adults do, it’s depressing that in some way it’s my fault she’s being brought into that terrible world. So getting through the first round of treatment lets me go back into that “ignorance is bliss” mode of thinking, for better or for worse. There’s your two-cliches-for-one sentence.

By the way, it is nice to see the way support travels. Everyone reading probably knows about or has purchased the Team William shirts. Now I see people posting on Facebook pictures of their shirts and/or wristbands, and some even from people I’ve not yet had the pleasure of meeting. Thank you for helping to spread the word, show interest, and spread awareness.

So let me close with a bit of a silver lining. Two weeks after my surgery, M.D. Anderson put on a brain tumor conference at the Omni on the west side of Houston. I had just seen them the previous Monday, and they tried to convince me to go. So Eda asked her parents to keep the kids for the weekend, and we went. Although the content was a bit dry at points, we met several people going through very similar experiences. As much as it helps for people to try to understand what’s going on and how the experience affects me, I put more credence in a person who has actually experienced it. In fact, just yesterday we hosted a lunch for a group of five additional families with brain tumors of some type or another. And the conversation doesn’t even need to revolve around cancer-related experiences. It’s just good to know I’m not alone.

One of them called me about a week and a half ago and said, “I want to come pick you up on Sunday and take you to the Texans game.” And it came just at a time I needed it. I try to fight the battle every day and keep telling myself, “It’s all right. You feel fine.” But it is a battle, and sometimes that’s not enough. I do need to lean on people to pick me up from those down times, and I appreciate all of you who have shown so much generosity and help and willingness to do so. It makes me realize that not only have I hit the lottery in terms of physical location with this diagnosis, but also with the people around me.

So I still need prayers, and in case you need guidance, here are some suggestions for this week:

1. That the treatment finishes as well as it started, and that I am able to keep pulling myself out of bed in the morning. I get more support from the people reading this blog, but my mattress provides a lot of support too.
2. That our younger daughter decides to help as much as the older one by doing nothing. Literally. All night long.
3. That my wife and family can continue their battle alongside mine. I realize I’ve left a lot of slack to be picked up, and it’s a big chore that they did not ask to do.
4. That the criminals in North Carolina change their evil ways.
5. I told Eda I wouldn’t reuse jokes, but I can’t help it. Please, Irish, let’s pick up the pace. I thought it would be cancer that would kill me, not a heart attack.

*We all hope that you all will come out to the benefit on Saturday October 26, 2013 from 11-2 pm (see Flyer below)
*If you would still like to order a Team William Shirt, you can. We will have one more Team William T-shirt pre-order if anyone would like to order, and it can be picked up at the benefit if you choose.