The Big Casino - July 13th to August 30th, 2016

The last two weeks of July and all August were just a battery of tests, consultations, treatments, and the hip biopsy to determine if, in fact, the tumor growing there was associated with the Adenocarcinoma.  It was/is. So by this point all the Aces I had up my sleeve were gone. Also gone was any thought of finding any “cure” that I had only heard of the previous week. But, as it seems to be with any catastrophic disease that hits a person, it certainly made me reach to any form of Hope that presented itself in front of me.

There was still a lot of confusion, guilt, and general mis-trust in the whole medical team that was being formed around me, especially when a patient is associated with such a large medical institution such as Ceders-Sinai. You do get some personalized serviced, but as I began navigating the entrails of that medical center I found myself feeling more of a patient case number than a patient. I mean, that there were so many protocols to follow that in the end I just became another case number with which they would be able to manage my condition. Those TV commercials with the CS staff saying they’ll bring you balloons and cheer you on is generally bullshit. Or perhaps not, but I didn’t see it…

July 14, 2016: My first visit to the Oncologist was bitter herbs. Her bedside manner was so dry that I didn’t care for her from the beginning. After we discussed what Stage 4 really meant she ultimately just insinuated that I may not be long on Earth…

Me: “WTF, Then how long DO I HAVE?!”

Onc: “Well, only the Man upstairs knows…”

Me: "Jesus Fuking Xrist! Is that a sanctioned medical answer?”

Onc: “I mean we need to first get the biopsy identified, treatment schedule, etc… Don’t give up yet…”

Me, under my breath: “Fucking asshole…”

Onc: “Would you like me to refer you to a case worker…?”

And just like that:

July 18, 2016: CT SIM of my Lungs & Hip.

July 21, 2016: Painful Hip bone Biopsy.

July 21, 2016: Brain MRI.

July 25, 2016: 1^st Chemotherapy. During this session I was told that the Hip biopsy tested positive for the Adenocarcinoma, STAGE 4 confirmed.

July 27, 2016: Cancer Orientation: Chemotherapy & You.

July 27, 2016: 1st Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

July 28, 2016: 2^nd Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

July 29, 2016: 3rd Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

August 1st, 2016: 4^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.
August 2nd, 2016: 5^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.
August 3rd, 2016: 6^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

August 4th, 2016: 7^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.
August 5th, 2016: 8^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

August 8th, 2016: 9^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

August 9th, 2016: 10^th Radiation Therapy to my Lung & Hip.

August 15th, 2016: 2nd Chemotherapy.
August 20^th, 2016: Coughing up Blood… fuck me…

Called the Big Casino Radiation Dept:

•Radiation Oncologist: “It’s normal to see any type of blood discharge, especially after radiation. We’ll just monitor to see how the on-going treatment continues. But by this point your regular Oncologist will be quarter-backing the rest of the way…”

•Me: “I haven’t seen any scans or know what is really going on. Please show me any images that can help me comprehend what is going on…”

•Radiation Oncologist: “Well, the horses pretty much stormed the barnhouse….”



•Me: “What horses…?”



•Radiation Oncologist: “The Cancer has spread and is already within your blood stream. In essence, now it’s a monitoring game. Seeing where the Cancer will metastasize. A Cat & Mouse game…”

•Me: 

Filthy Fourths - July 8th, 2016

The Big Casino, Imaging dept.

The following day I got the infamous PET scan. A radiation fused scan that checks for diseases in the body, in my case to check where the Cancer is located. I thought to myself how dumb it was to receive this scan after being physically invaded with the procedures that were done in June.

“Wasn’t I already diagnosed…?”
“Wasn’t there a treatment protocol plan of action already being defined for my cure…?”

July 11^th, 2016, lunchtime at KABAM:

Sencha

•Radiation Oncologist: “PET Scan results unfortunately show that the cancer has metastasized to your upper right hip area. Are you having any pain there?”


Tick-Tock…


•Me: W-T-F…? I've been limping on my right leg since January!


Tick-Tock…


•Radiation Oncologist: “It's imperative that we get a biopsy of the hip bone to rule out if the tumor is related to the Lung Cancer.”


Tick...


•Me: “When? How soon do we need this?”


Tock... 


•Radiation Oncologist: “Sooner the better. We're already pulling in the paperwork for the HMO approval”


Tick…

•Me: “That takes forever, can we schedule the procedure and I’ll push for the approval…?”

Tock…


•Radiation Oncologist: “It may help expedite the approval if you call AETNA. We need to get this biopsied before we begin any type of treatment…”


Tick…


•Me: “Ok, ok... I'll jump on that. But the issue is still curable right?


Tock…


•Radiation Oncologist: “It's - treatable…”


Tick…


•Me: "But Dr, what does metastasized mean?”




STAGE 4 MOTHERFUCKER!!!

The Big Casino - July 1st, 2016

The first time I visited Paris in 2000,  I saw the famous catacombs that lay underneath the city streets. It was a striking view to navigate the labyrinth of skulls & bones that go on a path for miles, and I kept wondering to myself if there was still any “consciousness” locked into these old bones that is somehow aware that I was walking among them. Plus, seeing evidence of a person’s life left behind after passing so many centuries ago was quite a conundrum. In the end, I left thinking whether these folks were resting in peace.

Los Angeles, July 1st, 2016… 

“Thank you for calling the Samuel Oschin Comprehensive Cancer Institute at Cedars-Sinai, (blah, blah, blah) to make an appointment press 2…”

*pressed 02

“Yadha, yadha, yadha, see you the 7th.

When I arrived I was impressive by the massive new building that houses the medical departments I would get to know very well. The long check-in lobby reminded me of the many hotels in Las Vegas, where you simply get in line, show your reservation, then get a wrist ban wrapped on your hand as you ready yourself for an all-inclusive visit. 
Once your consultation team is ready you are escorted to the elevator and directed to the LL (lower-level) floor where you navigate the labyrinth of patients & staff that seem to go on for miles. Well, not really, but walking toward the consultation room reminded me of that visit in Paris. All the twists and turns that lead around the halls were peppered by patients waiting for their treatments.

“Jesus, where am I?”

Finally arrived at the Radiation Oncology department for my first official cancer consultation to get the first gist of what is going on. 

In essence:
• Adenocarcinoma Stage 03 (Lung Cancer)
• Spread to your Lymph Nodes (Malignant tumor: BAD)
• It can be cured…

The Radiation Oncologist suggested surgery by removing the whole upper left lung lobe and the affected lymph nodes, followed up with a 10 day radiation treatment to burn the shit out of any remaining cancer cells. On top of that, I was also to see a regular Oncologist for any potential Chemotherapy that would be needed as well.


“Wait, did he say curable…?”

Me: “Wait, did you say curable…?”

RO: “Yes. This can be treated fairly common and at this stage we can stop it…”

“Wait, did he say curable as in Curable…?”

Me: “Should I still get the other scans that were ordered, particularly the PET? It’s schedule for tomorrow”
RO: “Yes. This would help to determine our course of treatment action…”

“He said curable..!”

I left walking out like I had won the Life Lottery. My spirit began to swell with overwhelming gratitude, joy, appreciation… as if one of those old bones in the catacombs got a second chance at life. The peace of mind was palpable.

Back in the car I just sat there for a moment letting this all sink in.
Texted Polly. Texted my brother… then drove back to work to finish off the day.

But as it is with all Big Casinos, the House always has the edge…

Samba De Verão - Billy May

Interlude, to keep it Fresh...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pCxUCXbhMY

Exit, Stage 03 - June 28th, 2016

June 28^th, 2016. the darkest day of my life.

Diagnosis: Lung Cancer, Stage 3.

Me: “Stage 3? What the fuck is that?”
Doc: “The tumor is in your upper left lung lobe, but it spread to your lymph nodes.”

Me: “Lymph nodes? What the fuck are lymph nodes…?”

Earlier that day I had been given a Mediastinoscopy, where they perform a small surgery at the base of the neck and insert a specialized camera to visually check the area. Once there, the surgeon can easily flush any parts for a better view of the lungs. And there it was, a small neo-plasm that looked like a transparent blob blocking my left lung lobe. Plus, there was evidence that this neo-plasm was also inserted into the lymph nodes located in the center of my chest. This fucker was already gaining some serious ground within me, but for how long?

“Wait, did the surgeon really say the word Cancer?”

The surgeon opted for me to spend the night at the hospital for observation after my blood pressure spiked to dangerous levels soon after I was told. Plus, there would have to begin a battery of tests to identify the type of cancer that has developed, a PET scan, maybe an MRI of the body. And having Polly still at Ceders with the kids was not helpful.

“My God… I have a family…” 

Ultimately she left, and I was left alone to process this whole new fucking world that fell on my head. Needless to say sleep was off the table. My body kept triggering the cardiac alarms through the night, prompting the nurses to check-in on me frequently. At one point I thought I was having a heart attack... But it was all a mental issue. An anguish, deep-darkening of the soul issue.

 And this was the easy day…

June Gloom 2016.

The month I became a regular at Ceders-Sinai, medical center to the stars located in the heart of Beverly Hills with the tinge of Purell which inundates every floor at this prestigious institution. This was like Summer Camp, where I began to foster with a group of people which would ultimately lead a plan to save my life: Specialists, surgeons, and scan techs, all had a small hand in unveiling my insides to help define what my ails were and develop a course of action. And I hated it.

All of a sudden I was intimately involved with all of these strangers to whom I had to declare a declaration of unwavering faith. Trust in that they knew exactly what to do and at what right time. They were the medical experts and, in essence, know best. But fuck it they do at times. My original pulmonary specialist misread information regarding the follow up CT scan and was originally misdiagnosed. Shortly after, my PCP mishandled the HMO referrals necessary to see other experts for second opinions. On top of that, dealing with office assistants, clerks, and general drop-out experts that work within the many medical offices with zero professionalism have certainly affected the outcome of much of my trails. And yet somehow many doctors continue to hire these lackeys. Cheap labor I guess.

Yep, June 2016 was the gloomiest month to start this "Cancer fight" path. The worst though was losing Buckley, my dog who passed on June 24. The day before I had been dealing with HMO insurance agents & medical staff discussing the coverage of upcoming appointments, procedures and such. Some things would be approved, some things were not. That evening I arrived home fuming and unable to process the majority of stress related shit of the day, so I took to a tree in my backyard and destroyed it with my bare hands. My children were already inside with Polly, but Buckley was out there with me. AS I was tearing the tree apart I could hear him wallowing on the side, terrified at the sight of what I was doing (I guess)… my hands were bloody after I was done so I just left Buckley outside for the night.

The next morning I found his body lying next to my office door. Slumped on the cold cement floor with his empty gaze peering through the French doors that lead towards my desk. At first I thought he was asleep, but when I went to hug him ‘morning I saw that he was gone… On top of that, that same morning I had a scheduled appointment for a Mediastinoscopy and I was already late. I had to call Animal Services to collect my dog before the girls woke up, then get ready and haul ass to BH. What a way to start the fucking day. I gently wrapped him in his blanket and moved him to the side of my home. Fuck.

I never properly mourned him, and I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for treating my beloved pal as this.

I’m so sorry Buckley. You deserved much better.

The Beginning III - May 2016

My continued “Rest” period, well, continued. We were rolling into May 2016 and high on life. Work projects were coming in at a steady pace and the Apple Watch venture began to expand towards Android products. I began designing exclusive digital timepieces that would be featured on the latest wearable’s that began to emanate on the scene last year. I named my brand “Padron”, after my grandfather, and they were somewhat popular. I had always wanted to create homage to my family and this seemed like the most excellent way. Plus, the extra money was a great incentive too! And mid-way the shit hit the fan…

I got a cease & desist letter from the trademarked owner of the Padron brand. It seems a small company was actually already creating real watches using the brand in the East Coast. And I got very disappointed. More so due to lack of diligence on my end for not verifying before, and having already created 10 watch-faces that now I would need to edit put me in a very bad anger state. And at this same time I started developing a deep cough that I attributed to the heavy alcoholic drinking I started doing to relieve stress. I wasn't living the most healthy lifestyle and I thought I would power thru all this. Yet, the nasty cough persisted.

Mid May I woke up to some blood tinged phlegm that freaked me out. About 10 days had passed since I was prescribed anti-biotics, but the deep cough kept on. Finally, my PCP ordered a chest x-ray for May 19th.



Friday May 20^th, 4pm I was at KABAM about to enter a meeting:

Sencha

•Dr Meltzer: “Alex, we found a spot in your upper left lung lobe area and we’ll need to get a CT scan”

•Me: “A what…?”

•Dr Meltzer: “your chest x-ray is showing a spot in your lung…”

a spot in your lung…”
a spot in your lung…”

a spot in your lung…”

a spot in your lung…

a spot in your lung…”

a spot in your lung…”

a spot in your lung…”

The Beginning II - January 2016

New year 2016 rolled in very excellent. High on life with two daughters, doing great at Kabam, and the Apple Watch venture seemed to keep blowing up. I had been burning the candle at both ends with no effort, squeezing many creative gigs out with gusto. I was professionally & personally happy. Sure, there were they typical stresses that every person gets, especially one that would be facing the big 5-0 the following year. But I really thought my life was finally cementing into something concrete, where I didn’t have to keep my-self in 4^th gear the whole time. Perhaps now I can take Paulina on our honeymoon (we never had one), or lean back and enjoy the spoils… or simply rest.

But how? With two young children there is simply no-way to rest. I would wake up in the morning to a bed where the whole family was sleeping, pushed to the edge with one leg dangling beyond covered with a bath towel. Then the midnight feedings, diaper changes, colicky moments… But there were very rewarding moments too as I gently rocked Vivian Grace during our late night Father-Daughter sleep recitals. Holding her I would imagine how one day we would reminisce about these tender moments while at her own wedding Father-daughter dan…

“WHEEEZ…”

“Oh fuk, I thought we were done with that…”
“Wheez…”
“damn, not again…”

Consulted with my PCP about this latest wheezing development and this time I was prescribed an in-haler. Perhaps early states of asthma he said. I tried it, it seemed to of worked.

But then in February 2016 I reached the tender age of 49 and was feeling pretty good, that is until I developed a painful limp in my right leg which I found very odd since I'd been regularly active in spite of working in a field where a person generally sits at a computer. Not thinking much about it I continued to put general stresses on it until one day my hip gave out. I got freaked.

“Now what”?

I kept monitoring that pain aspect on my own until one day I just couldn’t. My PCP, suspecting a sports-type injury (yeah, right) recommended Salonpas Patches, Ibuprophen, and rest.

March 2016… limp/pain got worse. Couldn’t stand for more that 15 minutes. Something is definitely not right…

April 2016… I was finally referred to a Rheumatoid arthritis doctor to determine if this could be the issue. My mother had been suffering from RA for over 40 years, and I just assumed it was my turn to fathom the daily pain associated with this ailment. But all tests came back negative, including an x-ray.

“What do I do now Doc?”
Dr Ress: “Get some rest”

FML

The Beginning… Anno Dominus Noster 2015

I was heavy into doing double work shifts most of my career. The aspect of career growth & financial freedom has been the extent of my goals since moving to LA in 2001. I felt proud being able to afford simple luxuries, a Home, a new car, America’s wet dream surrounded by white picket fence. But I also love to work in the creative field. It’s been a huge passion helping to create cartoons or show ideas that entertain children (and the masses in general), and that deep drive I had to build a brand from an idea to a whole marketing channel was the force that would push me out of bed every day, usually operating with two-three hours of sleep. Eventually, I thought, this would catch up to me. Maybe…?

In 2015, a few months before Vivian Grace was born, I had landed a very lucrative contract to help develop new apps for the upcoming Apple Watch. I had worked with these creative folks before and jumped at the chance to be a part of this new Apple device. We thought of a few ideas to shop towards Apple, but concluded on a Slot Machine type of game that would come pre-installed on the watch. “How Exciting!” I thought. That my art would be a part of a bundle already pre-installed in a coveted device. I went ALL-IN.
Keep in mind that I still had my full-time gig with at KABAM. It was indeed the start of a very creative & busy year.

May/June. I headed to bed around 5 am after a particular long day. Lying there, I started to yawn very deeply expecting to fall asleep soon but began noticing a slight wheeze emanating from my chest. My lungs seemed like they were not fully expanding as I was drawing in air, yet physically my lungs felt full.

I didn’t think much of it other than regular exhaustion and a tired body. But shortly after Vivian was born I noticed that a ‘wheez’ had developed when I would sleep. Not a snore, but a deep whistle type sound, like the edge of a balloon being squeezed while letting air out that would often wake me up. A little alarmed I decided to move up my annual health check-up and consult my PCP. Blood-tests came back negative; cholesterol levels great for a man of my age. He suggested that I treat this wheeze like a cold, and since we were heading into Flu season I got vaccinated. 

2015 would quickly end in a good financial clip. I felt as though I had conquered a good creative year. Little did I see what would rear out its head in just a few more weeks…

Fast Forward to Falling Back - June 24, 2016

I was lying on a cold surgery table in Ceders-Sinai getting a look inside my lungs via a Broncos-copy. A few weeks before, my PCP had a chest x-ray after I would not stop coughing bloody mucus. He had originally prescribed anti-biotics, thinking it was a simple form of sinus infection, but after a small spot was found in my lung he immediately had me consult a pulmonary specialist.

"What the fuck" I thought... “… a spot?!” I had been very pro-active in getting annual check-ups every year after I learned that my dad got Prostate C in the early 2Ks. De-toxing, eating better, exercising... What the fuck is this spot?!

After the operation was performed I anxiously awaited the results. There was definitely something there, but the biopsy was ruled inconclusive, other that it is a Neoplasm that was blocking my upper left lung lobe. Based on the Pulmonary Specialist it didn’t seem that urgent to remove, but he did want me to consult with a thoracic surgeon who should determine what exactly that mass is. Spoiler Alert: Tumor.

“Holy Fuck! This is a tumor?” I said to myself as the news started to settle in my brain. “What kind of tumor? The Cancer kind?, The kind that spreads and eats your body up?”. The medical staff's response was the same. No idea, yet more tests were needed.

Needless to say all kind of pain & worry impregnated my soul that day… I was a 49 year old man with a young family. Vivian was not even one yet!!! And here I was about to face a cruel test of fate that would ultimately lead towards my potential young demise. My god…

The questions, the regrets, the apathy of living were beginning to swell as I darted my hands upwards for an answer. A quick response that would light up my mind and tell me that everything would just as easy settle back as to how they were a few days before. That this was somehow a bad dream that I would wake up from it any moment and shake off.

But it wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare.

This was anguish.

No Dogs, Mexicans, or Cancer allowed. (My Original Post) June 2016

Thursday, June 30, 2016. 5:00 PM 
This will be one of the hardest things I will have to admit. And while it is very unpleasant in doing so, I realize that by putting this content on paper will help me tremendously in dealing with my current health situation.

My name is Alejandro Meza, and I have been diagnosed with lung cancer.

There are still some additional test results pending before I know what type of cancer it is, or at what stage. But this still does not alleviate my mind into what great consequences I will be facing in the next week, or month, or year. But I have to, at some level, face this situation and realize that I’ve been dealt one hell-of-a curve ball that I would not wish on anyone.

This is especially hard for me to admit as having a family with very young daughters only adds to my stress, which is something I cannot afford to have since one of the best things I need at the moment is peace of mind.

Peace of mind… that is something we all, at one point or another, desire. But ever since I became a father I have placed myself in a very pressurized state of mind to make sure that I make the proper ends meet to take care of my family financially. Combine this with the fears every man has about his professional growth, family security, parents overall health state, children’s education, house bills, etc… I’ve slowly, but surely painted myself into this unhealthy corner without giving my health a rest. I’ve permitted my overall being to fall into disrepair emotionally, physically, and mentally, all for false reasons. And I’m beginning to pay for this with my health.

But, in hindsight, I recognize that I did take my role as family man seriously for the benefit of my family, so many of my actions were not in vain. But I do feel that I placed myself in a very negative wavelength to the point where I created an outlet for this cancer to come in. I began complaining more about my family, work, and all the other wonderful things that I should have been grateful for. Instead of giving thanks for them, I considered them burdens, and often thought how it would be better to be single, and alone.

And I was very wrong.

What hurts me the most is knowing I had these thoughts. Letting them rot in my gut and mind. The guilt & pain that I feel for devaluing the love of my family, the support of my coworkers, and the true friendship of those close to me is truly unbearable. But it is what it is, and now I need to face the bull by the horns and get myself over-all prepared for the coming unknowns.

As it stands, I’m still waiting for the final diagnosis from the Pathologist. Then, on to an MRI scan, plus PET scan, followed by a visit to an Oncologist. I expect that after the latest scans results I’ll be prescribed Chemotherapy, followed by Radiation, in the hopes that the tumor will reduce in size or better yet, go away. But I’d be lying if I didn’t express my fear over this whole situation. More so, for my family as I have no idea what to expect once I begin these treatments. Will my mood change? Will I be angrier? Will this put too much stress on my wife… and children?

I also fear for my income situation… How long will KLA keep paying me? Can I work from home? Will others want to continue working with me if I’m sickly? I guess I will never know until I reach that moment. But until then I will try to calm myself, expect the best, and hope for a miracle. At the very least, a miracle where I begin the steps of my cancer treatment by forgiving myself.

Step one…