“I eat scorpions for breakfast.”

You read that right. “I eat scorpions for breakfast.” That’s what Dad said. No hesitation in his voice. No fear. Only certainty. That same certainty he has always had as a father. A confidence that I have tried to learn and take on over time, a steadfastness in faith and determination. A virtue I admire and am attempting to pass on to my own children.

Dad made this statement while still in the hospital. Future oriented, it was all about tomorrow, August 8th, 2016 – the day Dad will truly eat his first scorpion.

Much has happened since that statement. We experienced the “Woo Hoo” of coming home. He ditched the walker and regained independence. Dad was cleared for a completely unrestricted diet, and we celebrated with an act of defiance – we ate at Burger King… Dad has been working out several times a day, following the prescribed exercises his PT gave him, and adding a little extra because thats his style. He has been forcing down the calories and packing on some weight with the help of a nutritionist donated by some of you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was training for a powerlifting competition…

There have been follow up appointments, and classes to attend. Morning coffee out back, and Sunday dinners with family. Life, in all its preciousness, has been steadily moving forward, because that’s what it does.

As I reflected on this conversation we had about eating scorpions, a realization took place. Life will always move forward. Its odd to think that this would be a ‘realization,’ yet it was. How best to approach things that are beyond our control such as time and life? In a most inspiring book, The Alchemist, there is a King who is speaking with a boy and says to him:

“At a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what’s happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate. That’s the world’s greatest lie.” – The Alchemist

So, again, how best to approach these things? To never believe in the lie that the world tells us. Instead, Dad is bravely staring forward, unwavering, and is going to take a bite of that scorpion tomorrow morning during his first round of chemotherapy. He is literally going to ingest, via a peripherally inserted central catheter (PICC) line infusion – an intracellular poison. This poison is potent and is generally designed to inhibit mitosis, which is the natural division and growth of cells. These poisons are cytotoxic and are intended to damage and stress the cells in Dads body the point of apoptosis, or cellularly programed death.

It makes sense then, when we think of the side effects of such toxic poisons – many different types of cells, including many healthy ones, are poisoned and die. Imagine how you might feel if you intentionally had a bowel of Raid for breakfast, or in Dads case – a 48 hour feeding frenzy on scorpions.

The name of tomorrows scorpion is ‘FOLFOX.’ This is a combination chemotherapy treatment made up of FOL – folinic acid, F – fluorouracil (5FU), OX – oxaliplatin. This is a colorectal cancer specific treatment. Folinic acid is a vitamin you take along with fluorouracil because it makes the chemotherapy more active against cancer cells. After Dad has more completely healed from his earlier surgery, he will also be given Avastin. This is a drug that inhibits angiogenesis – it slows the growth of new blood vessels. All together, this is a 1-2 punch for colorectal based cancers.

Dads procedure will be a period of cycles, 12 to start with, over the next six months. Each cycle is two weeks. Day one he is hooked up to an infusion at his local oncology hang out and then given a small cartridge to take home that will continue to infuse chemotherapy for 24 hours. Day two Dad will return for a refill and on day three he will be disconnected and remain that way for the remainder of the fourteen day cycle.

At the end of these 12 cycles, Dad will receive additional scanning to re-stage his cancer, then enjoy the remission we all know (and pray) is coming. The first remission will be the longest, then the entire process will repeat. Dad will continue to subject himself to enough scorpion poison to bring death and destruction to the cancer, along with the rest of his body, all in the hopes that enough good cells will survive each time so that he may recover.

No doubt, the support and prayer from all of you have gotten us this far and will continue to influence the hand dealt by the world. We appreciate the continued thoughts and prayers and ask that you too refuse to believe “the worlds greatest lie.”

Finally, I have held this torch to shine light on my Dads situation while he most certainly was unable to do so. Based on the comments, emails, and phone calls, this blog has sufficiently kept many friends, family, and colleagues abreast of the sudden diagnosis and the roller coaster that has since ensued. As my Dad has now taken hold of his strength of body and mind, I will be relinquishing this blog, which is in all rights his own, so that he may provide his own personal dialogue with all of you. I, along you all, look forward to his words and insights, his love and legacy, his passion, on these pages to come.

A forever loving son,
Richard