Journal entry by Adam Edge —
It's been quite some time since I provided an update here on CaringBridge. I believe my last entry was when I had completed half of my radiation treatments. The journey got significantly more challenging at that point. My energy level was zapped. My overall health was not good. And I was being pushed to the limit physically, mentally, and emotionally. It required me to dig deep spiritually and find a way through some of the darkest days of my journey. As I type now, I am two weeks post treatment and am still processing both what I've experienced and the road ahead.
"Be Brave"
Before I go into too much detail about the final few weeks of my radiation treatment, I wanted to share a story. When I was about 4 weeks into recovery from surgery, members from my work team (it's really more family where I work) decided to drive down for a visit. Kim, Abby and Katie all made the trek from Suwanee to Atlanta to come and visit me. They, being the very thoughtful people they are, brought me cards, food, and gifts not only from them, but from other folks in the community.
One of the gifts was a door hanger. Abby's daughters had spotted it in a store and one of them suggested to their Mom that they buy it for "Mr. Adam." This door hanger has a narwhal wearing a cape and simply says "Be Brave." The girls, on one of their visits to the office, noticed a picture of a narwhal hanging in my office that reads "Be so amazing that everyone thinks you're a myth." So Abby brought me this door hanger and of course I love it, especially the story behind it and the fact that the girls colored it themselves. It hangs on my bedroom door so that I see it daily.
The Grind
The point from right around treatment 20 to the final treatment of radiation I refer to as the grind. It was 10 treatments over 15 days (because you have to keep in mind that though I wasn't receiving treatments on the weekends, I still had to experience the effects on those days).
During this time, treatment became significantly more difficult. Not because of the treatment, but because of the toll it began to take on my body. My mouth was full of sores. My throat was raw and rigid which made it hard to swallow and made every bit of nutrition that I did try to get in leave me with burning sensations both in my mouth and down my throat. All of the progress that my tongue had made during the six weeks post surgery started to reverse (because the radiation treatment makes everything tight and reduces flexibility and mobility). My jaw started getting super tight which in turn pulled on my neck and begin to give me shoulder pain. I had zero appetite for the first time in my life. As if any of this wasn't enough, I couldn't sleep and I could barely eat (I was living off of a very small amount of calories per day).
I don't know the proper descriptions or adjectives to describe this portion of the journey. It was gnarly and painful to my mind, body, and soul. At my core, I knew that I was going to make it through. I kept reminding myself that to just hold on and take care of the things I did have control over. That being making sure I was cleaning my mouth properly, doing my exercises for tongue and jaw mobility, and staying focused on the task at hand.
My family and friends rallied around me. They could see I was struggling. There were so many messages and cards from many of you that came at just the right time. Almost as if it were divinely coordinated. One message I got from my brother when I was down to my final three treatments really pressed the right button. He sent me a meme and under the picture he simply wrote "This is the definition of #EdgeStrong." The meme read ("I can't (freaking) do this"-I mutter for the twentieth time as I continue to (freaking) do it").
I received many uplifting messages from the friends and family I am so blessed to have. However, this one just really struck the proper cord. It just reminded me that even in the darkest days action is the enemy of fear and despair. It's the magic elixir that alters the mind to a place of hope and possibility rather than leaving it mired in the thought of current circumstance and negative possibilities.
In addition to that message, the door hanger from Abby's daughters provided a lot of motivation. The simple phrase "Be Brave" just resonated during this time. It required bravery and courage to do things that in healthier times are so simple. Brushing my teeth and drinking my nutrition were the gateway to onsets of physical distress and pain. However, they had to be done. I had to "Be Brave" to ensure it happened.
Ring the Bell
Finally, day 30 of treatment came and I couldn't have been more excited. I woke up ready to go. My team took me over for the 30th treatment. Mom, Eric, Rebecca, Tim and David all came with me to my final day. This had been the group of folks who combined to assist me to nearly every treatment day. My friend Kelsey took me to one too.
I went back for my final treatment and Melissa, the Radiation Therapist, joked "Mr. Edge, you want me to put in a word for you so you can come back for more?" I laughed and said "Melissa, you've been so sweet to me along the way. So don't start being mean to me now." Before I laid on the table I opened my playlist and hit shuffle. Then Raphael and Melissa readied me. The mask went on. The table lifted up and they left the room.
The sweet sounds of "Gotta Give It Up" by Marvin Gaye filled the room. It was a day of celebration and I couldn't have been happier. As the treatment went on, Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine" played. Finally, as I was released from the table and the mask for the final time "Shout" played. I got up and danced a little and Melissa joined in for a step or two.
Melissa looked at me and said "you couldn't have ended on a better song." I looked at her and said "you have no idea how right you are." See, "Shout" is a song that is so significant to my friend group. We played it at the end of parties in college. It's the "can't miss" song for everyone at weddings. It's just a song that is tied to so many beautiful moments. Again, this was a moment that just felt like the universe had conspired to play along with the joy I felt coming off of that table.
After treatment, Melissa walked me up front. We had to wait a beat because the nurses wanted to be there to see me ring the bell too. I had the biggest smile on my face coming out and ringing that bell. The waiting room (including my friend Kevin who had also just completed radiation) was cheering, the nurses were cheering, the radiation therapist were cheering, and I got to experience the sweet relief of being done.
PURE JOY
The weeks after radiation have gotten better, but it's going to take me about 4-6 months to get back to my full strength. Of course, during this time, I will be returning to work and easing back into the flow of daily life.
I'm certain some days will be more challenging than others. I will have to be patient while I adapt to my new normal. I'll have to give myself time to process this journey and the lessons learned from it and the scars it's left.
I don't know yet if I am cancer free. I will be receiving scans in the weeks ahead and will share that information as I receive it. I also don't know that I will have the pleasure of walking through the rest of my life without facing this beast of a disease in the future. Only time will reveal those potentialities.
However, I do know this, I have overcome some massive obstacles to get to where I am today. Through the assistance of my God, family and friends, fellow warriors I met in oncology and the medical professionals guiding my surgery, oncology, and recovery, I am in a place of peace and healing in this moment. And for that, I feel a sense of PURE JOY.
"NOW WAAAAIIIIITTTTTT A MINUTE.........I FEEL ALLLLLLLLRRRRRIIIIIGGGHHHTTTT!!!!!!"-Shout, The Isley Brothers
"Be Brave"
Before I go into too much detail about the final few weeks of my radiation treatment, I wanted to share a story. When I was about 4 weeks into recovery from surgery, members from my work team (it's really more family where I work) decided to drive down for a visit. Kim, Abby and Katie all made the trek from Suwanee to Atlanta to come and visit me. They, being the very thoughtful people they are, brought me cards, food, and gifts not only from them, but from other folks in the community.
One of the gifts was a door hanger. Abby's daughters had spotted it in a store and one of them suggested to their Mom that they buy it for "Mr. Adam." This door hanger has a narwhal wearing a cape and simply says "Be Brave." The girls, on one of their visits to the office, noticed a picture of a narwhal hanging in my office that reads "Be so amazing that everyone thinks you're a myth." So Abby brought me this door hanger and of course I love it, especially the story behind it and the fact that the girls colored it themselves. It hangs on my bedroom door so that I see it daily.
The Grind
The point from right around treatment 20 to the final treatment of radiation I refer to as the grind. It was 10 treatments over 15 days (because you have to keep in mind that though I wasn't receiving treatments on the weekends, I still had to experience the effects on those days).
During this time, treatment became significantly more difficult. Not because of the treatment, but because of the toll it began to take on my body. My mouth was full of sores. My throat was raw and rigid which made it hard to swallow and made every bit of nutrition that I did try to get in leave me with burning sensations both in my mouth and down my throat. All of the progress that my tongue had made during the six weeks post surgery started to reverse (because the radiation treatment makes everything tight and reduces flexibility and mobility). My jaw started getting super tight which in turn pulled on my neck and begin to give me shoulder pain. I had zero appetite for the first time in my life. As if any of this wasn't enough, I couldn't sleep and I could barely eat (I was living off of a very small amount of calories per day).
I don't know the proper descriptions or adjectives to describe this portion of the journey. It was gnarly and painful to my mind, body, and soul. At my core, I knew that I was going to make it through. I kept reminding myself that to just hold on and take care of the things I did have control over. That being making sure I was cleaning my mouth properly, doing my exercises for tongue and jaw mobility, and staying focused on the task at hand.
My family and friends rallied around me. They could see I was struggling. There were so many messages and cards from many of you that came at just the right time. Almost as if it were divinely coordinated. One message I got from my brother when I was down to my final three treatments really pressed the right button. He sent me a meme and under the picture he simply wrote "This is the definition of #EdgeStrong." The meme read ("I can't (freaking) do this"-I mutter for the twentieth time as I continue to (freaking) do it").
I received many uplifting messages from the friends and family I am so blessed to have. However, this one just really struck the proper cord. It just reminded me that even in the darkest days action is the enemy of fear and despair. It's the magic elixir that alters the mind to a place of hope and possibility rather than leaving it mired in the thought of current circumstance and negative possibilities.
In addition to that message, the door hanger from Abby's daughters provided a lot of motivation. The simple phrase "Be Brave" just resonated during this time. It required bravery and courage to do things that in healthier times are so simple. Brushing my teeth and drinking my nutrition were the gateway to onsets of physical distress and pain. However, they had to be done. I had to "Be Brave" to ensure it happened.
Ring the Bell
Finally, day 30 of treatment came and I couldn't have been more excited. I woke up ready to go. My team took me over for the 30th treatment. Mom, Eric, Rebecca, Tim and David all came with me to my final day. This had been the group of folks who combined to assist me to nearly every treatment day. My friend Kelsey took me to one too.
I went back for my final treatment and Melissa, the Radiation Therapist, joked "Mr. Edge, you want me to put in a word for you so you can come back for more?" I laughed and said "Melissa, you've been so sweet to me along the way. So don't start being mean to me now." Before I laid on the table I opened my playlist and hit shuffle. Then Raphael and Melissa readied me. The mask went on. The table lifted up and they left the room.
The sweet sounds of "Gotta Give It Up" by Marvin Gaye filled the room. It was a day of celebration and I couldn't have been happier. As the treatment went on, Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine" played. Finally, as I was released from the table and the mask for the final time "Shout" played. I got up and danced a little and Melissa joined in for a step or two.
Melissa looked at me and said "you couldn't have ended on a better song." I looked at her and said "you have no idea how right you are." See, "Shout" is a song that is so significant to my friend group. We played it at the end of parties in college. It's the "can't miss" song for everyone at weddings. It's just a song that is tied to so many beautiful moments. Again, this was a moment that just felt like the universe had conspired to play along with the joy I felt coming off of that table.
After treatment, Melissa walked me up front. We had to wait a beat because the nurses wanted to be there to see me ring the bell too. I had the biggest smile on my face coming out and ringing that bell. The waiting room (including my friend Kevin who had also just completed radiation) was cheering, the nurses were cheering, the radiation therapist were cheering, and I got to experience the sweet relief of being done.
PURE JOY
The weeks after radiation have gotten better, but it's going to take me about 4-6 months to get back to my full strength. Of course, during this time, I will be returning to work and easing back into the flow of daily life.
I'm certain some days will be more challenging than others. I will have to be patient while I adapt to my new normal. I'll have to give myself time to process this journey and the lessons learned from it and the scars it's left.
I don't know yet if I am cancer free. I will be receiving scans in the weeks ahead and will share that information as I receive it. I also don't know that I will have the pleasure of walking through the rest of my life without facing this beast of a disease in the future. Only time will reveal those potentialities.
However, I do know this, I have overcome some massive obstacles to get to where I am today. Through the assistance of my God, family and friends, fellow warriors I met in oncology and the medical professionals guiding my surgery, oncology, and recovery, I am in a place of peace and healing in this moment. And for that, I feel a sense of PURE JOY.
"NOW WAAAAIIIIITTTTTT A MINUTE.........I FEEL ALLLLLLLLRRRRRIIIIIGGGHHHTTTT!!!!!!"-Shout, The Isley Brothers
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