All In

"Wildcard" Photo courtesy of J. Kerr 2008

For as long as I've known Kenny, he's loved to play poker. I don't remember when he taught me to play, but I know it was early on in our relationship. In the early 2000's we had moved on campus at the little college we both attended. Kenny was teaching at the High School and was the resident faculty member assigned to keep an eye on things. He instituted a weekly poker game that was hosted at our house. Mostly because we had three small children at the time, and he wanted to make sure I could play. It was Kenny and me and a cast of college boys. We played every week. Sometimes twice a week. I have always been a guy's girl, having 4 brothers and no sisters. This was a guys-only game with me as the exception, but seeing as I was an occasionally foul-mouthed old married lady, I was essentially one of the guys.

Kenny was forever trying to get me to calculate the odds, to be more patient, to pick my spot and then push, to stop chasing a hand, etc. But you see, I just wanted to serve up bad beats. I hated thinking about the odds, how many outs I had, and the probability I'd make the best hand. Winning with the best hand is fine but getting somebody to fold when you are holding jack squat or getting them to call you because they think you are weak and then taking all of their money is an absolute thrill. I relied heavily on my intuition and knowledge of the players to make my decisions. Kenny was and is a much better player than me. I wanted to beat him more than any other player. Those were some of the happiest times I can remember. Of course, like most things in life, you don't realize how good something is until it is over and you reflect on it.

Kenny is staying strong and fighting. It has been a month since his eye surgery and the removal of a small tumor near his incision. He had his first immunotherapy treatment at the beginning of February. We got the biopsy results on the lymph nodes on the left side of his neck. Positive. He's been getting radiation every weekday and has completed 20 of 30 sessions. The recent struggle has been a severe amount of swelling in his face. He started physical therapy for lymphedema and is going twice a week. It has helped a little bit. He will have some compression garments made and will likely need a pneumatic machine to help him combat the swelling at home. I anticipate another battle with insurance in the future. A couple of weeks ago the stitches popped on his trach again. The surgeon said it had been long enough after surgery that we could start using the trach ties, which really is a band that fits loosely around the neck and fastens onto the trach with tiny little velcro strips. In my first attempt to put on the trach ties I discovered a wound on the left side of his neck right near the trach. It looked familiar, much like the cancerous wound he had in his neck before. We went back to the surgeon last week. He thought the same thing but went ahead and took a biopsy in the office. The results came in yesterday. Positive. Upon further inspection, it looks like there is another tumor on the right side of the neck, but it is not an open wound. To quote the doctor, "We are playing whack-a-mole. We remove a tumor and then they pop up in other places." The surgeon told us we were past the point of doing any more surgery. It would just cause harm. We have to give immunotherapy more time to work. I know I don't have to tell you how soul-crushing it is to hear things about how they got all the cancer, and they have clear margins only to find it popping up over and over again. It is very surreal to stare at death daily. To see something evil slowly but persistently try to kill someone you love.

Yesterday, my favorite doctor, the radiation oncologist, saw us and said, "Just keep going. Just stay afloat. Yes, the boat is full of water, but I've never seen better bailers of water than you two."

I have faith that Kenny can beat this and be healed, but am I afraid? Yes, every day. All we can do is never give up and pray, pray, pray.

Doctors will give you odds of survival with your type of cancer, odds after recurrence, and so on. Then they stop giving you numbers because the odds are so bad. But I've already admitted I never calculate odds, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now.

Kenny will tell you that when you are down in chips, you have to pick any decent hand, push all in, and pray for the best. Immunotherapy is our best hand. We are all in.