I see you on Zoom and there you are, your handsome and charming self, seemingly unchanged, but reading this update made me understand how brave and resilient you are. I loved your performance of "Staying Young" and you did indeed accompany yourself brilliantly. I'm sure Rachmaninov will not daunt you either. Let me know if I can help--I'm happy to spend a day taking you to where you need to go, that kind of "small z" zooming is natural to me. Zooming...really not. Love, Mo

Continuing to cheer you on, my friend.

Thank you from all my heart for this update. I remember the 4th hospitalisation chemo when the effort to remain positive (that goal I'd set) crashed down around me. I broke. My soul plunged into the darkest void. I grappled between the cardboard person I'd made and accepting my new normal. Scared. Scarred. Hurting to my marrow. Afraid. Human. Tearing my cardboard self apart and embracing, finally accepting I didn't have to be anyone but me was key to my surviving each day.

You are amazing. Any one dealing with cancer is a survivor. But your gift of sharing each life change, the story of you, is beautiful.

Sue

Wow, just read about all this Steve, and it totally blows!! Honestly, I was a little stunned and not at all sure what to say. Glad that you can again play the piano and that you are getting your voice back; I know that both are important to you and to all who love to listen. Sounds like you have a pretty great team out there to help out, and I'm so glad!! I can so relate to your comments about feeling like you perhaps shouldn't drink wine or have a root beer float. I have had the same thoughts (and discussions with doctors) after a couple of bouts of cancer, but I'm actually "root beer floating it up" during this whole pandemic mess. I highly recommend it! Love and best wishes! From reading your posts, you obviously haven't lost your warmth and intelligence through all of this.

Keep on fighting. Loved your performance last Friday. I was so happy for you.

Steve: Wishing SO much that you could receive REAL hugs from EVERYONE that cares about you, that your parents were alive to be included with this giant hug of support, and that these hugs could be just because we cared not because you had cancer or horrible side-effects from it's treatment.

Email me your current cell phone, email address & mailing address if it would be helpful to you to receive additional notes or phone calls.
cariskenny2@cox.net. Caris Kenny 16312 C Street Omaha, NE. 68130.

Steven So Glad to hear from you. You are doing so well coping with an insane amount of change. Be Strong and know we think of you often.

Steve,
Apologies are never needed.
- Update Great
-Mobility Good
-Doctors Great
-Medicine Great
-Side affects Bad
-Technology Great
-Friends and Family Great
-New skills Great
-Old skills revisited Great
-Autologous Stem Cell Transplant (ASCT) Great
-Zoom Good
-SARS-CoV2 Bad
-Cancer Bad
-Seclusion Bad
-Scrubbing Down Necessary
-Sense of Humor Dry
-Brevity Never
Stay Strong and Stay Steve! Always

Jay

Steve,
I am so glad to hear you are still with us. I love that your first bullet point was confirmation of this, not that the rest of the message wasn’t also confirmation, but it was good to hear. I was beginning to wonder.

I am sure all your friends would love to hear that you are sitting in your home with a glass of wine laughing your ass off, but we all know that this is incredibly hard. You are going to have ups and downs, with downs outnumbering the ups. Contemplating your own mortality is scary as shit (Sorry about the fecal reference, but it seemed so right.). Being upbeat is not your job. Being alive is job one for you now. So you have done a kickass job of being alive.

I am a little annoyed that your crippled life is more interesting than my full throttle, foot to the floor life. You are singing songs, playing the piano, performing in plays, taking exotic trips to the pharmacy and faraway lands such as the doctor’s office, while I lull on the couch sinking into a stupor as I watch the same old TV shows.

I am a little concerned that your doctors might be transforming you into a vampire. The signs are there, but you are too close to see it. The first sign is your lust for a deep red beverage. Sure, sure, you said wine, but we know that is code for blood. You are feeling weak. When was the last time you had a big glass of blood? Coincidence that you have not drunk blood for several days, or longer, and you are feeling weak? I think not. You have developed a fear of the sun and are harmed by the baleful sun’s rays. You did not say, but I suspect that you have been sleeping during the day. Some people may call it napping, but you are unconsciously following in the vampire’s footsteps. If you start having bat tendencies like hanging upside down from the ceiling, I would consult a different doctor.

Well I hope this brings a smile or chuckle; no guffawing. Glad to hear you are still alive. Keep up the good work.
Andrew, fellow high schooler

Thank you for the update. It is interesting to hear your inner voices. Being good to yourself and knowing you are enough is so important. Happy to hear you are playing piano again. Hopefully that gives you some joy. That can be hard to find during challenging times and is so important. Take care, Michael