First of all, let me say at the top of this post that with the passing of T. Sam Rawls, the sun will have to work harder to light this world. The loss of Sam’s bright light of goodness, wit and character will create a sense of community sadness that will be hard to get past. Jacquie, Jill and I are holding you in our hearts and praying for your peace and comfort in the loss of your loving mate and one of this community’s best friends.
I have been pretty quiet for the past few days because I feel like I’ve been to hell and back and just haven’t felt like communicating. Despite Jill’s most glorious-to-date warrior bride caregiver performance, visits from my sweet mom and having my fabulous Uncle Johnny and Aunt Nelda here to help keep an eye on me, I have been one miserable SOB.
In addition to large-scale pain mostly from the very long incision on my right side, the addition of a new medication has left me completely unable to sleep. The first two nights on the medication I was only able to get about three hours of sleep and I’ve been so exhausted. Dr. Pippas counseled with me and suggested we add a short-term SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor), to help me keep my mind more calm and release some of the pressure cooker anxiety of feeling like something major is about to happen with this cancer, but not knowing exactly what or when it was coming.
We chose a small dose of Celexa. It is to be taken at night and requires a few days or even weeks to fully work. I’m three days in now and after a couple of really horrible completely sleepless nights, I’m beginning to get my legs back under me. I have a feeling this medication is going to be very helpful for me, as I am a fidgety, compulsive dude. Everyone who knows me knows that. I’m hoping for a more calm mind, because we’ve got to make some tough decisions ahead. I want to be clear-headed and razor-sharp when it comes time to pull the trigger.
The thing that cancer patients most hate to see happen, happened to me this morning. I got up to make a pot of coffee and checked my Blackberry. The light was blinking and I could see there had been a voicemail from the phone number that belongs to the John B. Amos Cancer Center.
I wonder if cancer docs really know the instant fear and dread that the mere sight of that phone message light can cause in those of us who are living with cancer. Even if I finally get to beat this thing down for good, I will still quake at the sight of a message from 706-320-8700.
Dr. Pippas wants me to heal from the lumbar spine surgery and his call was simply to let me know that he hasn’t been able to get in contact with Dr. Dan George at Duke to schedule a consultation. So, our Thursday afternoon appointment with Dr. Pippas has been postponed, either until I’ve recovered from my surgery or he’s been able to get in touch with Dr. George and it is time to start making plans.
I’m thankful for my surgeons, Dr. Mike Gorum and Dr. Mac Molnar, who assisted with the thoracic part of the procedure and Dr. Pippas. I hope I’m exactly where I need to be, two weeks after a surgery like this and that I’ll continue to improved and be able to be strong for whatever comes.









Praying for you and your family. Dr. Pippas has been working with my dad in his battle with lung cancer (stage IV, since 2008) for the last three years and he has been a blessing to us. Thank you for inviting us in to your life and sharing your emotions in such an honest and authentic way. It is hard for people who aren’t going through this to understand and your blog gives us insight that isn’t easily obtained in mainstream media. Bless you.
Indeed, Sam Rawls was a very good friend and I was sad to hear of his death. I first met Sam in the early 1990′s when I was executive secretary of the Phenix City Rotary club checking visiting Rotarians in. The gravely voice “Rawls.” We became good friends ever since. As for Mr. Venable, everything you say about your experience holds me close and gives substance to my prayers for you, for Jill, and for all the friends, family, physicians, and care givers. I don’t know what tomorrow holds–I never have–for myself or for anyone else–so feeling close for the moment–that’s all I know about life. That’s about all I have to offer. Shalom, Bill
I hope the meds allow you to get the rest and sleep needed to heal from the tough surgery and be able to face the decisions and treatments. Thinking of you often and looking for your postings when you can. Prayers for healing, sleep, rest and peace continue.
I have been on Celexa for aout 10 years and it is very good med. It really does take the edge off without making you a zombie. Hope it helps…a shot of bourbon before bed alsoheps:-)
Mike,
We miss you. I miss you. I pray for and think about you and Jill often. Thank you for taking us along on this journey of your life.
You WILL heal and you WILL be back and you MAY get a bestselling novel in the process.
Keep writing, Mike. It keeps us all close to you. It gives me such joy to see new entries from you.
Hugs and prayers!!!
Mike,
I have a large lateral appraoch incision scar as well from the operation to restabilize my spine. No doubt it is a “nasty buggar!!” Mine has continued to hurt less and become less sensitive with time. One thing that helped with the healing of my incision was scar massage. As pain allows it, if you can massage the scar it will keep the scar tissue from gettig hard. I do NOT know the fear that you speak of about THE phone call. I am sure it is unsettling and lack of sleep makes everything harder to handle so I am truly praying for good rest for you. Just that in itself can make you feel so much better AND makes healing go quicker. Needing to rest does not get you out of doing your breathing exercises!!
Brother… thank you for your genuine sharing. It helps us prayer warriors know how to focus our prayers for you. Try to keep your mind from spinning. Remember ONE STEP AT A TIME gets us there!!!
Grandin
Nice words about Sam, Mike. Our community is sure going to miss him.
Hate to hear how tough recovery is going for you. On top of the discomfort from your intricate surgery, I can’t imagine compounding it with a lack of sleep. And then that ‘fear of Blackberry’… well, actually, I can imagine that one… they scare me, too.
Keep fighting the good fight, Mike. We’re all pulling for you.
Stay strong!
You and Jill are never far from my thoughts and prayers. I continue to pray for strength and peace for you both.
Hope
Mike, Sandy and I continue to pray for your recovery. Andy Gunnels
Thanks for sharing this crucial time in your life. Talking about it without holding anything back is good therapy. You have the best doctors in Dr. Gorum and Dr. Pippas. The uncertainties with cancer is one of the hardest things to deal with. Just take it a day at the time and please know that I am there for you holding your hand and praying for you.
Mike.
Just a reminder of something that you already know. In our walk with our God, PATIENCE is one thing we must have, I know it is hard to have patience at a time like this, but remwmber that you are in His hands. Through your faith in Him, we know that he will not leave you, HE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU.
We think of you many times every day and you are always in our prayers. You are in the best of hands, human and Divine.
We love you,
Eddie and Nancy
Mike,
Your spirit is matched by your elegant writing. I think you should start a magazine! Many good thoughts and prayers are beamed your way.
Much love to you and Jill.
Gail
I cried for my long time friend today. I can not say anymore than what has already been said. I love you.
Mike I just plain love you and Jill. I’m available for anything, anytime.