It’s all about synergy now:
synergy |ˈsinərjē| (also synergism |-ˌjizəm| ) noun
“The interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects: the synergy between artist and record company.”
Here’s a quote for you:
“Experts agree that beating prostate cancer will almost certainly require a mix of more than one treatment. The question is figuring out the best recipe.”
This is where I come in, I think. If it’s gonna take a soup to defeat this thing, it looks like I’m the pot.
First, though, praise God from whom all blessings flow! My (second) heart catheter has been successfully removed from my body. I have the surgeon’s footprint on my chest to prove it.
For those of you who have been praying for the last 3 weeks, the battle is won! No infection! From the depths of my un-catheterized heart, I thank you!
By the way, they determined that the first catheter was infected (drum roll) in the surgical center OR upon insertion.
I have no words; only evil thoughts.
I now have a new surgeon who tells me he is a perfectionist. I like that – A LOT – in my surgeons.
What a strange sensation, I must say, to have 15″ of plastic tubing pulled out of your body. I can’t really describe it. I only remember being very concerned that the surgeon was pulling on the right thing as he kept commenting about how much it didn’t seem to want to come out.
Did it hurt, Ed? No. By great kindness, I was able to avoid the hospital and general anesthesia, but I was still numb. Here’s why:
Yes, no Southern Comfort this time. Instead, Lord Calvert Canadian Whiskey. A gift I will always remember, even if Jennie wouldn’t let me drink it before the surgery. Instead, I received several shots of Lidocaine. Something about the rules, I think.
I drank it that night, though, and therefore, had no post-operative pain. A toast to you, Jennie! You’re awesome.
So, this whole “let’s almost die and have four surgeries instead of two to keep from doing so” game we have been playing has ended well. Plus, as an added bonus, the guy who needed my spot in the surgical line last week also lived due to the surgery I allowed him to have, so I’m glad for that, also. And I have made some amazing new friends:
So what are you doing with your time now, Ed?
I shower. Constantly. Like a crazy man. Hot as I can stand it and no more saran wrap. It’s glorious. You should try it.
Next, I’m going to starting walking in the neighborhood and working in my yard again – I intend to do this until Christ returns.
I am also running a meth lab of sorts – in my body. Yes, the trifecta is in place. I currently have three cutting-edge cancer treatments/drugs at work inside of me. At a cost of over $30,000 per month (paid for – another miracle), an army has gathered and is currently planning D-Day on my cancer.
No one has ever received these three treatments at the same time before, my doctor reminds me. Right now, my side effects are fighting with my side effects, I think. My back, in particular, is a major complainer – particularly in the mornings.
Pray my troops will get themselves all sorted out and pointed in the right direction. Synergy, remember?
Even with the side effects, I couldn’t be any more amazed at God’s provision and care for me in all this mess. All this now takes it, yet again, to an even more stunning level.
If this keeps up, I might be the first guy cured of advanced metastatic prostate cancer.
Or, I might explode.
I’ll keep you posted.
Oh, one more thing: when I saw Haley afterwards (the office manager at my oncologist’s office), to tell her, no, I didn’t scream during the catheter extraction (she was predicting I would and that she would hear it across the hall), she said, “Next, Mr. Hague, we need to get you scheduled to have a new PowerPort surgically implanted in you.”
Assuming she was overcome with temporary insanity, I asked, “And why would we ever consider doing such a thing?”
“So you can be ready to start your chemo,” she replied, with a straight face.
Don’t worry, folks. I shouldn’t have, but I let her live.