I HAVE BRAIN CANCER, And it’s okay.

I was diagnosed in October with stage 1 brain cancer. Two weeks ago, I completed my first (and hopefully, my last!) six-week course of radiation, five days a week.

In the process of receiving the diagnosis, and amid much symptomology and LOTS of tests, there was concern it had spread to my stomach and prostate. One of many indicators was my PSA reading of 6.7, which is well into “cancer danger!” territory. Ultimately, it was determined that the brain cancer had NOT spread.

And that is just…

THE FIRST PIECE OF GOOD NEWS, AMONGST MANY.

So, prostate and stomach aside, there’s still this little brain cancer thing.

Having lived through two, three-year-long battles with “terminal” illnesses (1977-1980 and 2013-2016), I do my best to avoid anything related to medical “care” these days. I just choose not to deal with the frustration, stress and negativity that often comes with it. This is my excuse for ignoring a year’s worth of escalating headaches and bouts of dizziness; until one bout literally knocked me on my ass this past summer.

That finally led to a head x-ray and the discovery of a “spot.” Seemingly endless calls later with medical providers and insurance, followed by long hours in waiting rooms, all exacerbated by the time, energy, and frustration that comes with that. Next came a Cat Scan and ultimately an MRI, and confirmation of a five-centimeter tumor in my left front lobe. As I’ve learned, that is kinda big.

I’m a stage 4 lung cancer survivor. I was previously given a terminal prognosis of “six months to live,” and decades later have gone on to have a pretty cool life. I even host a weekly podcast called The Cancer Warriors. (Subscribe if you haven’t! ????) I believe I’m uniquely positioned to convey experience, strength and hope to those who are in the midst of their own battle; or who have survived it, but feel like their lives are essentially, “over.”

A recurrent theme on these podcasts… I represent myself as a shining example of what NOT to do, think, believe, how to behave, etc… while in the battle; because I was a terrible cancer patient during 1977-1980.

TERRIBLE.

Angry. Negative. Agonizingly desperate. Reactive. And I had HORRIBLE habits connected to nutrition, fitness, peace of mind, or the lack thereof; all these essential things.

In my 2013-2016 non-cancer-related ordeal, during which I was given a two-month survival prognosis, I was just a different kind of bad. While I had brief glimmers of hope, and fought HARD, I was for the most part disengaged, fatalistic, just… checked out. And due to my own chosen behaviors during this second period, I ended up homeless, drug-addicted, often barely able to stand or walk, severely depressed, and save for my pups Ramone & Gogo, and later Eos, totally isolated and alone.

I often wonder why and how I survived these two, three-year ordeals. (As best as I can guess, I attribute my survival in the first go-round to my step-mother and my dad being there and MAKING me go through the paces; the second time around, plain and simple, I stayed alive for my dogs).

Over the past few years, as my life has really come together, I’d look back and see so clearly where I had gone wrong and how, if armed with the tools I have in my arsenal today, I’d do things differently if ever –God forbid—I were to face another big diagnosis.

I would explore these ideas with my co-hosts and guests on The Cancer Warriors, most of whom have been inspiring examples of what and how to DO IT RIGHT. And I take this same self-examination –where I went wrong and how I’d do it now– into the conversations with the people I counsel one-on-one.

Easier said than done?

As I wrote in my book Little Big Man, for many years my days were characterized by three-steps-forward-and-eleven-steps-back. Or four forward, nineteen back, and so on (and on the days I felt really sorry for myself, NO steps forward). As Ramone, GoGo, Eos, Dennis, and I settled into our first stable home in years on Maui, I caught my breath and FORCED myself to take stock. I made a conscious decision to do better in EVERY respect. Nothing seismic or major happened that first day, or any day after. Just baby steps… such as… write down ten things I’m grateful for; be genuinely nice to every stranger I encounter that day; spend quality time with each of my pups every day and be extra loving with them; promptly return phone calls; get a job; take deep breaths; exercise; find a project I’m excited about and chip away at it a bit each day; etc., etc.

I’ll never forget the day in 2020, in our home in the forest on Maui, amid the pandemic, when I realized I’d had my first day in which I calculated a net positive on steps forward versus steps back.

I’d share on my podcasts, conversations, and counseling sessions how I’ve come to believe, fervently, that things happen for a reason (I love a good cliché!) For example… In 2009, an animal control officer pulled my beloved pit bull Marley’s crushed body out of a trash bag for me to identify. If you had told me then that this was happening for a reason, I would’ve kicked you in the head. I absolutely FREAKED OUT. Today, I live with my five beautiful pit bull babies, Eos & Wilson & Snoopy & Moose & Yogi. Five! I am a partner or /advisor in land-based pit bull sanctuaries throughout the U.S., and I’ve had my hand in rescuing thousands of pit bull-type dogs. In the process, I’ve met many like-minded people who have become friends and supported me in discovering my true passion in life. I recognize I let Marley down badly. I miss him like hell and always will (until we’re reunited on doggie beach in heaven!). But, for now, I can safely say that none of these great things would have happened had I not lost my boy Marley.

Which leads me back to the “reason” for having brain cancer now. And the notion of how I would react, and IF I’d do things differently, if ever diagnosed.

Less than four months ago, my new oncologist spoke the words… “YOU HAVE BRAIN CANCER.”

After receiving my diagnosis, I freaked out for exactly zero-point-zero seconds. “Hmm, okay,” I thought, “what good can come out of this? What’s the ‘opportunity’, or ‘reason’ here?”

Then, I immediately noticed my reaction. And, at the risk of sounding too self-congratulatory, my next thought was that I was proud of myself.

Every day since has been two steps forward and one step back. Or three forwards and one back, and so on. Don’t get me wrong; THERE ARE STEPS BACK.

Such as a seemingly endless holds with “healthcare” providers who disconnect you after 50 minutes of zero progress. The positive: BUT HEY, I HAVE A NICE MOBILE PHONE AND NO PROBLEM PAYING MY BILL! Searing pain in my head while I’m (literally) bolted to the table while receiving radiation. BUT MY RADIATION TECHS ARE SUPER COOL, AND THE CLINIC IS ONLY FOUR MINUTES FROM HOME! The guilt I allow myself to feel when I feed my dogs two hours later than usual because I just don’t have the energy to get up. BUT OH YOU GOTTA SEE THE BEAUTIFULLY STOCKED DOGGIE FOOD CUPBOARDS I HAVE FOR THEM! AND THE KISSES AND HUGS I GET ONCE I DO FEED THEM!

One thing I’ve learned, is that I have a lot to learn. As often as I congratulate myself these days, I also have to check myself. When my thoughts go to the negative, I have a near-immediate tool in my arsenal that I continue to develop…. I say to myself, or out loud, “STOP!” Turn it!”

And then I just as quickly replace the negative thought with a positive thought AND a positive action. THOUGHTS… “I am here with my beautiful pups.” “I am strong. This (challenge) can and WILL make me stronger. We have a beautiful home with a really big, comfortable bed to sleep in. I have a great job. ACTIONS… drop and give me five (pushups). Drink a large glass of filtered water. Tell Moose that he’s a good boy (which alternates with me calling him “Moose-ance”) (Sounds like “nuisance.” Get it? ????) Or, I’ll think of a friend I believe is going through a tough time, and send them a short voice message of heartfelt support.

Brain cancer = my opportunity to keep learning and to become better than ever. In EVERY aspect of my life.

I recently published an article called “The Seven Top Components for Surviving Cancer and Thriving.”

These “components” are often on my mind… when doing The Cancer Warriors podcast, when providing counseling, and in everyday life. And shortly after I received my diagnosis, a very clear thought surrounding these components –and all that goes with it, occurred…. “Rick, you damned well better fucking practice what you’ve been preaching.”

And I really believe that I have.

The entire “seven components” article is here if you’re interested.
https://rickbassman.com/the-top-7-components-most-necessary-for-surviving-cancer-and-thriving/
Apart from that, for the sake of my own accountability, and more so in conveying to anyone facing a challenge that – YOU TOO CAN DO THIS!, I’ve decided to grade myself on a report card, as connected to these seven components.

Here goes:

Six-way tie for second place (in no particular order):

2nd place. Nutrition.
My “diet” was okay but far from great. I am now vegan/plant-based, organic, gluten-free, dairy-free, and (nearly) sugar-free. And… I can feel the difference.
My grade = A

2nd place. Move!
(work, play, exercise… whatever moves YOU)
Up until three weeks ago –when I was three weeks deep into radiation—I was killing it; doing five or six short “workouts” every day… calisthenics, stretching, breathing, 100 dumbbell reps, 50 pushups, a short DDPY workout, ten minutes on the rowing machine or elliptical… whatever. I was “killing it” until I got “so sick” (MY words) and when I told myself, “I CAN’T do this anymore.” MY BAD. Earlier this week, that shifted. There ARE SOME things that I CAN do. No matter HOW MINIMAL (15 pushups!), I do it and give myself credit for it.

The company I work for has not put pressure on me. That said, I’ve FORCED myself to do some work, and in picking my spots, have markedly advanced several initiatives which will yield significant results for us. Great net-forward steps!

I can feel like I’m on the verge of dying, and I usually manage each day to engage my beautiful pups in play and short training sessions.
My grade = B-
(‘cause I gotta get my workouts back to where they were, and gotta get Moose to stop biting my ankles)

2nd place. Get –and work with– an Advocate.
This is a tough one for me and one from which I’ve learned –and am still learning—some of my greatest lessons. Facing significant medical challenges is not a super-easy thing. There is a TON of time and energy to be expended on research, consultation, phone calls, office visits, and, at the end of the day, making the right decisions. Being sick and experiencing the symptoms that come with that sickness can make good decision-making that much more difficult.

“STOP. AND TURN IT!…
Instead of getting caught up in THAT, I think, or say out loud… “This is the opposite of exhausting and frustrating. This is educational. An opportunity for me to recognize even greater strength in myself.”

That said, that’s all I’ll say about this Get an Advocate component for now. Grade forthcoming!

2nd place. Support System.
In some ways, related to “Get an Advocate,”
Also, a subject for another day, so again, no grade at this time.

2nd place. Medical Care.
At first, it seemed damned near impossible. I didn’t know where to start or who to start with. Today, I am extremely happy with my oncologist, my urologist (although I really don’t need that anymore!), and radiologists. I’ve made “friends” in each office who have stepped up to provide outstanding care and even to help me schedule appointments with other providers (which is a LOT harder than it may sound!). If I say so myself, I’ve put a hell of a team together.
My grade: A

2nd place. Be of Service.
They say that when you do for another, you do for yourself. Is that selfish? I don’t think so. Everyone should benefit from the good deeds they do. I’ve continued to do The Cancer Warriors podcast. I’ve redoubled my counseling outreach and efforts. I’ve found myself going out of my way to be helpful to others. Yeah, I’m patting myself on the back again here.
My grade: A

And after the six-way tie for second place, FAR AND WAY the most critical “component” is… drumroll please…

1st place. Self/Attitude. (FIRST place)
The older and wiser I get, the more and more I become convinced that our minds and thoughts create our experience here on earth. We have a CHOICE in how we experience our lives. Once you make up your mind, it’s easy to choose what NOT to do… like watch or read the news, watch violent movies, listen to violent music, drink Red Bull (still haven’t killed off the daily sake or glass of wine!), stay on negative thoughts for longer than a second or two. And then, it becomes just as easy to think and do positive things in place of the “negative,” and live a largely positive life. There are libraries of books on this subject, and I’ve already written about much of that here. I’m going to stop here and award myself…
My grade: B- (and only because I recognize I still have MUCH to learn and improve on. But… I’m thrilled and appreciative of how I’ve handled this brain cancer thing so far, of where I am tonight, and where I think I’m going.)

Tonight, the effects of radiation are hitting. HARD.

But that’s okay. I could have easily “taken the night off” and crashed watching a movie on the couch with my pups. But instead, I’m writing. So, really, how “sick” am I? How much of a state of mind is this?

I don’t know.

Some things I do know, though…

Status update.
The “big” tumor I have (had?) in my brain is/was in a spot that makes it very risky to operate.
I’m told that a surgery gone wrong could result in severe lifelong damage. So, the goal of this first six-week course of radiation is to shrink the tumor to where it’s operable or to render it harmless altogether. My follow-up MRI is scheduled for February 9. The MRI results will inform my decision as to what’s next. I don’t know what’s coming, but here’s one thing I DO know… on a scale of 1-10, concerning sweating what the MRI will show, I’m at a 0.

I also know that I’d be lying if I said I’m vegan for life because I’m visualizing an “all clear” dinner celebration at Korean BBQ. Good to have things to look forward to!

If you’re so inclined, check out my podcast, The Cancer Warriors, for updates on my cancer journey.
www.youtube.com/rickbassman

So, as for what comes next, we shall see but I do know… I’VE GOT THIS.