How Cancer Has Affected My Life
Up until 1977 I never really
thought too much about cancer. Cancer was something that happened to somebody
else, to someone else's family, but in August of that year my
paternal grandfather died from lung cancer. A few years later the same type of
cancer took his wife, my grandmother. He was a lifelong smoker but she never
lit up a day in her life, so if there are people who still don't believe that
second hand smoke kills they can come talk to me. Just four years ago my father
beat bladder cancer because it was diagnosed early. His sister, my aunt, had a
masectomy around the time we lost grandpa Silverman. My mom's sister died in 2003
from liver cancer. That's just my family.
Two years ago I lost a very old, very dear friend and one of the best musicians I ever knew personally, Jack Trevino. Jack was a year younger than me and that one really got my attention. My dear friend Keri Butera had surgery for breast cancer four years ago and just this past week she had some new tests run that came back with questionable results and I keep her in my prayers and my thoughts every day. Last year I lost one of the great people to ever grace my life, Toby Meservey. Toby went to the doctor with just some stomach pain and it turned out he had a mass in his colon the size of a baseball. He was gone less then three months later. What doesn't seem to compute is the reality of the people my own age, the friends I spent the better days of my youth with who have fallen victim to cancer and now it's happening again and I am at a loss as to how to deal with it.
Bill Karabinus was diagnosed a year ago with pancreatic cancer. Bill has been my friend for over forty years and we've seen the up's and the down's, we've been through the thick and the thin together as friends and brothers. The reality of male friendship is a much more complicated thing than some people may want to believe because as men we're not supposed to show too much, we're not supposed to feeltoo much. As men we're always supposed to keep that chin up, to be able to smack our buddy on the shoulder as if to say, "Man, this is just a speed bump in your life, it's nothing to worry about." But in all honesty I'm feeling very helpless right now. Bill and I have talked a lot lately about fear and hope and the future. I do fear real well. Hope and the future are things I have to work on. He lives in Arkansas and I'm in Nevada and that's one of the hardest things to deal with, being so far away. But even when we were kids there was always an inner-strength to Bill that he's never lost even in the face of such a devistating diagnosis. I could use the well worn saying that he's "battling cancer" but that wouldn't exactly cover the reality of his day to day odyssey as I see it. It's not easy to explain but what I hear in his voice isn't a man who's fighting anything, but rather someone who's already beat that monster that is growing inside of him. I usually try and steer the converstation back to the 1970's when we were doing our best hanging out because if I talk too much about it then it becomes my reality and some days I'm just not equipped to handle the health of my friend. But you know what he does? Like the bad-ass he was when we were kids he just grabs that monster by it's horns and says, "Not this time, not this man."
It would be easy for anyone in Bill's position to just give up. With every round of chemotherapy it takes him longer to bounce back because those caustic chemicals are taking their toll, but when he talks about it he only describes what's happening to him physically. He refuses to fall into the familiar "Wo is me" mentality because Bill has something that I need to work on in my own life. He has hope. He isn't letting the fear that would bring another man to his knees get the better of him because he's stronger than that, and in turn that allows me to deal with my own fear and pain of knowing that man I dearly love is in pain. And knowing there's nothing I can do for him except to be his friend, to be a soulmate in the truest sense of the word and to always be there for him.
Fear is a terrible thing to live with. Sometimes what scares me are the things I already know, but most of the time it's the unknown that invades my dreams at night. Some days I want to lash out and curse God for allowing this to happen to my pal but thankfully Bill's faith is stronger than mine and that's where the hope comes in. I always have to keep this in sight because if I don't, then all that's left is the fear and I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen.
The two of us wearing raincoats, standing so low
In the sun
You and me burning matches, lifting latches
On our way home
We're on our way home, we're on our way home
We're going home
You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead...
I love you, my friend.
Two years ago I lost a very old, very dear friend and one of the best musicians I ever knew personally, Jack Trevino. Jack was a year younger than me and that one really got my attention. My dear friend Keri Butera had surgery for breast cancer four years ago and just this past week she had some new tests run that came back with questionable results and I keep her in my prayers and my thoughts every day. Last year I lost one of the great people to ever grace my life, Toby Meservey. Toby went to the doctor with just some stomach pain and it turned out he had a mass in his colon the size of a baseball. He was gone less then three months later. What doesn't seem to compute is the reality of the people my own age, the friends I spent the better days of my youth with who have fallen victim to cancer and now it's happening again and I am at a loss as to how to deal with it.
Bill Karabinus was diagnosed a year ago with pancreatic cancer. Bill has been my friend for over forty years and we've seen the up's and the down's, we've been through the thick and the thin together as friends and brothers. The reality of male friendship is a much more complicated thing than some people may want to believe because as men we're not supposed to show too much, we're not supposed to feeltoo much. As men we're always supposed to keep that chin up, to be able to smack our buddy on the shoulder as if to say, "Man, this is just a speed bump in your life, it's nothing to worry about." But in all honesty I'm feeling very helpless right now. Bill and I have talked a lot lately about fear and hope and the future. I do fear real well. Hope and the future are things I have to work on. He lives in Arkansas and I'm in Nevada and that's one of the hardest things to deal with, being so far away. But even when we were kids there was always an inner-strength to Bill that he's never lost even in the face of such a devistating diagnosis. I could use the well worn saying that he's "battling cancer" but that wouldn't exactly cover the reality of his day to day odyssey as I see it. It's not easy to explain but what I hear in his voice isn't a man who's fighting anything, but rather someone who's already beat that monster that is growing inside of him. I usually try and steer the converstation back to the 1970's when we were doing our best hanging out because if I talk too much about it then it becomes my reality and some days I'm just not equipped to handle the health of my friend. But you know what he does? Like the bad-ass he was when we were kids he just grabs that monster by it's horns and says, "Not this time, not this man."
It would be easy for anyone in Bill's position to just give up. With every round of chemotherapy it takes him longer to bounce back because those caustic chemicals are taking their toll, but when he talks about it he only describes what's happening to him physically. He refuses to fall into the familiar "Wo is me" mentality because Bill has something that I need to work on in my own life. He has hope. He isn't letting the fear that would bring another man to his knees get the better of him because he's stronger than that, and in turn that allows me to deal with my own fear and pain of knowing that man I dearly love is in pain. And knowing there's nothing I can do for him except to be his friend, to be a soulmate in the truest sense of the word and to always be there for him.
Fear is a terrible thing to live with. Sometimes what scares me are the things I already know, but most of the time it's the unknown that invades my dreams at night. Some days I want to lash out and curse God for allowing this to happen to my pal but thankfully Bill's faith is stronger than mine and that's where the hope comes in. I always have to keep this in sight because if I don't, then all that's left is the fear and I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen.
The two of us wearing raincoats, standing so low
In the sun
You and me burning matches, lifting latches
On our way home
We're on our way home, we're on our way home
We're going home
You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead...
I love you, my friend.
Jeff Silverman has been my best friend for over 40 years, from way back
in elementary school. Though we do not agree with everything we each live for or believe in we have shared a mutual respect that defies human relationships. No matter what
the future holds I will always know that Jeff is in my corner and if anyone
ever needs a friend you could circle the universe and never find a better man
or better friend.
Jeff is currently the caregiver for his own parents as they fight age
and infirmity, he lives in Las Vegas Nevada….
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