Memoir of a Hollow Man |
My name is Dave Cashen and I am a hollow man. On May 30, 2011 my life changed forever due to cancer...and this is my story. My most recent happenings appear at the top, but for my journey to read in it's entirety, it is best to begin with my first posting. To find it, scroll down the page, then click the arrow at the bottom to 'page back' until you can't go any further and you see my first post "How I Got Here". Click the link "About Me" to learn more about myself and the reasons why I felt I needed to share my story. |
I had started this posting about two weeks ago, but couldn’t find enough time to sit down and get it done, so I’m attempting it once again. Difference is, I finally have a couple days in a row with nothing planned except a couple appointments, but then I’m off again. It seems since my last posting I have been on the go non-stop, something I feared I’d never be able to maintain for such a prolonged period of time.
In my last posting I was only six weeks into my ACL reconstruction recovery and mostly trapped on the couch once again while I let the new tendon mend. I had begun physiotherapy, which at the time was really my only escape from my apartment, which in some way had become a prison over the past year and a bit. Of course I got out when I could, but I was never really comfortable and definitely didn’t feel like myself most of the time, if ever.
Read more
With having received the good news about my battle with cancer and feeling a little stronger, my dad wanted to take my younger brothers and I on a trip to celebrate, and escape the confines of my apartment and the stresses that were beginning to present themselves.
Before we went on the trip I had another meeting with my friend that the BC Cancer Agency introduced me to, I wanted to see if he felt I was on track and that all the shit I was having to deal with was consistent with what he had dealt with. Now that I had been through the operation and now experiencing life without a stomach, his and my bio-mom’s experiences meant so much more, especially against the input and knowledge of those that had not, but were giving advice anyways. I’m not saying the doctors or nutritionists didn’t know what they were talking about, but they had no idea what the experience was truly like to deal with. In fact, this early in the recovery the doctors only advice was to eat all and anything I could. I did briefly speak with a nutritionist on the phone because my oncologist was concerned with my weight, but the nutritionist was quite pleased in what I was eating and seemed to think I was doing well considering my situation. She liked that I was eating on cravings, but suggested I try and eat the things that worked more often to build that consistency of constantly ingesting calories. I was trying that, but it was easier said than done.
Read more
I had thought I had some idea how hard this was going to be after speaking with my bio-mom, friend from the BC Cancer Agency, doctors and from what I had read; especially since I felt I had dealt with my fair share of adversity in the past. BUT no one, and I mean no one can comprehend the challenges this operation presents unless you have undergone this operation and experienced it. Like most of life’s extreme moments of adversity, this pushes you to the breaking point on every imaginable level possible: physically, mentally, emotionally and financially. Having a strong support group of family, friends and counselors or just about anyone who might care, is imperative. It can be hard to express your angst, especially when being as independent as I am. I found it tough to ask for help and still do to some degree, but people can’t read your mind, nor can they understand what you’re going through in most cases. Those first few months were by far the toughest; my life was completely changed from what I had lived the previous thirty plus years. Not only changed, but drastically altered forever, probably the only natural instinct and necessity that all creatures on this planet are born with to survive I no longer possessed…the desire to feed. Of course, suffering through those first few months was most likely better than the outcome had I not had the operation. Cancer would have grown, spread and I would have had to have the operation anyways, possibly too late, diminishing my potential lifespan.
Read more
The two weeks in the hospital were excruciating, time seemed to be standing still, what had only been two weeks, felt more like two months. Now on the outside it was a little more tolerable, time was still moving at a snails pace, but at least it was moving. For my fourth week I decided I would make the shift to my apartment after spending that week at my friend’s moms place. I probably could have used another week at her place, but as mentioned I’m a fairly independent person and felt like I needed to return to being so sooner than later.
Read more
With my freedom granted from the hospital, I headed to a friend’s moms house which was so kindly offered to me to stay at. This was a very generous gesture and with her place being the closest to my apartment, my parents and the clinic I had to visit regularly, plus the fact that she is a very kindhearted person, made this the obvious option. If I didn’t have a place to go after checking out of the hospital where I would have someone to watch over me and assist me if needed, it would have been possibly too much to take. It was also nice to have my own bedroom and bathroom in the basement, separate from the rest of the house. My body was now operating in a different way and if I had to share a bathroom or was in the way of others it would have been a nightmare.
Read more
The relentless thirst I was suffering from before was now gone thanks to the miniscule, yet adequate amounts of Gatorade G2 I was able to ingest and absorb, but all else was pretty much a write-off. Even the G2 was a challenge to consume, I had only made a slight dent in the bottle by the time I was cleared to try my first bites of food at the beginning of the second week. The reaction my body was having to some of my most favorite substances was a little unnerving. I was learning quickly that the way my body was now set up, that I was in for a whole new experience every time I tried something old, but now new…something I hoped would be temporary.
By the end of that first week I started to notice my body was rejecting the feeding tube that was inserted and stitched into my abdomen incase I was unable to ingest any foods. The tube had been pushed out an inch, ripping out the stitch causing irritation to the entry point. The nurses assured me it wasn’t getting infected and that the tube will not come completely out as it was over eighteen inches long. At least the drainage tube that was inserted and stitched on the other side of my abdomen was fine. The medical staff seemed to think that my body was simply healing, causing the feeding tube to be pushed out. Ok, if they say all is well, than I believe them, after all they went to school for this and well, I didn’t.
Read more
Those first few days after the surgery were the easiest believe it or not, minus my insatiable thirst. My dad and mom were very surprised how coherent I was right after my surgery and the immediate days following. The same was said when I spoke with my bio-mom on the phone and my friend whom had the surgery stopped by the day after surgery, they were both quite amazed with how well I was doing so soon afterwards. After talking to them, I feel it could have been attributed to not having awakened with a tube down my throat in which they had. I was very happy to learn this, however unfortunate for them. These tubes are in place in case the patient needs assistance ingesting nutrients through the mouth once cleared to do so. I never really got a clear answer to why I didn’t receive one, but was glad nonetheless.
Probably the most annoying and bothersome was the tube in my neck, it was actually keeping me up at night and just making my time awake unpleasant. I was informed it was a backup in case the other IV in my arm stopped working. After three miserable days I finally got the nurse to take it out…Thank you!
Read more
…With the big doctor appointments out of the way and some questions answered, I figured this was a great time to meet up with the gentleman I met with before that had been through the stomach surgery. He seemed to genuinely care and told me that he had someone to talk to when he was going through it and it helped him immensely, and now he wanted to share that same support to someone else…me. I kept in touch with my bio-mom regularly to say hi and see how she was coming along in her recovery too, but there were more similarities between the other fellow and I. He was only a couple years older than I was when he had his surgery, he was in fairly good shape, active (although I wasn’t really at that time due to my knee injury) and enjoyed eating. The main difference was he had a wife and children, along with a career that he was able to do from home.
When we met this time, roughly six or so months had passed, so I was eager to see how he had progressed from the last time we met. I told him the CDH1 gene mutation was found in a second test I had and I was going ahead with the surgery. It turned out he had the same surgeon as I was and he stood by him saying the he was one of the best. I was quite a bit more attentive during this meeting since I knew for sure that I was going ahead with the surgery and I needed more clarification. I picked his brain hard wanting to know everything.
Read more