I found the following 2 unpublished blogs a few months ago. At the time that Matt wrote these posts, he had just finished high dose chemo and was on some pretty heavy pain meds. The two blog posts are redundant in nature, but I wanted to share both of them.

4/17/09 Today, 6 months after hearing I had masses in my chest, abdomen and lungs, I found myself back where it began; at Dr. Finazzo's office. It has lead to a reflective and emotional day. My sister asked me if it has gone by fast or slow and I don't have an answer to that question. One thing I can say is that we have not had time to think about what we were going through until now. When you consider everything my young family has been through in the last 6 months, it is overwhelming. Thankfully we did not have time to think about what was happening; only time to act and react. Now we have time to think and it is overwhelming. We have learned a lot of things, but most importantly is how we need each other. Megan and I could not have gotten through the past six months without all the love and support from family, friends and the community. This cannot be overrated! Every card, email, blog post, meal, ride, phone call and prayer counted more than you can know. I feel badly that I have not been able to answer every call and email, but that does not mean it didn't count. Every message gave me strength; more than you know. Now that I reflect on the last 6 months, I can be a little more honest. That is not to say that I wasn't honest in my previous blogs, nor did I try to sugarcoat things, but I do think subconsciously I painted a rosier picture for my own sake. The plain and honest truth is that cancer sucks. Sure, I did get through the first four rounds pretty easily, but then as cancer is known to do, it throws you a curveball. My HCG was on the rise and I needed 2 rounds of high dose chemo. Those 2 rounds were the hardest thing I have ever done (yes, even worse than dental school). During the first round of high dose chemo, I was completely and utterly exhausted. It took every ounce of strength I had and drained it. Megan and I noticed right away that the chemo, which previously hung in plastic IV bags was now hung in a glass bottle. She asked the nurse why and we were told that this dose of chemo was so strong it would eat through the plastic! That's what they were pumping into my veins and I knew it! I dreaded going back for round 2 in Indianapolis. Leaving Ethan for 3 weeks and going through that hell again seemed unfathomable. The knowledge that the treatment worked and my HCG was falling gave me solace, but I still dreaded it. Nonetheless, we had to keep going. Everyone has to find their own motivation to fight cancer. I have countless reasons to live, but the two greatest are my wife, with whom I have far too many unfinished plans to leave her now, and the fact that I won't be just a story in my son's life. I reminded myself of this everyday the last 7 weeks in Indianapolis. The other simple thing that kept me going down there, particularly the last 3 weeks, was a calendar of the wall. Every day the nurse would come in with my “numbers”. These were the blood counts I would post to the blog. Everyday I would get them in the morning and then call Megan to share them. Then I would call my Mom who would relay them to my Dad and my sister and out through the family. The numbers were important and showed that I was stronger in the second round. More important to me though, was not the actual numbers, but the filling in of the calendar. I didn't really care if my WBC's were 0.2 or 20.2. I just wanted to see another day filled in on the calendar. To me that meant I had persevered through another day and I was closer to recovery. Each day felt like a test to see if I could endure another day cooped up with no energy and the posting of the numbers meant that I had. Thankfully, I don't have to do that again. So now I have a month to rest and regain my strength; and to wait to see what is next. I am still unbelievably fatigued, but I am stronger each day. My thoughts from the last 6 months are catching up to me and I am glad I didn't have time for them as I went along. There are a few things I can say definitely. To those of you whom have not had cancer, may you never know the agony, but do know that your support is priceless to those of us fighting the battle. To those of you whom have, or have had cancer, know that I am with you, and we WILL continue to fight another day, because that is just what you do.

4/17/09 I am no Superman. I am no Ironman. I am just a guy with cancer, fighting for a life with his wife and son. Six months ago today, I was told I had tumors in my chest, abdomen and lungs. The next day, my son turned 10 weeks old. Four days later I had a biopsy and diagnosis of testicular cancer. Four days later I started treatment and had no idea what was in store for me for the next six months. I started with tests (ultrasound, CT scan, MRI, EKG, thyroid scan) and then began chemo. The regime was BEP for four rounds. That's three strong drugs – 2 of them 5 days in a row and one of them once a week. That treatment was three months and I did well. My doctor said better than every other patient. My HCG went from >200,000 to 503. I had my testicle removed and was ready to hear that my HCG was 200 or less. It was 3,689. I was on my way to Indianapolis to see Dr. Einhorn. Up until this point I was fearless. No doubt that I would beat it. I had rough days, but Megan was there to pick me up; either with her smile or by showing me all the cards that had come in that day. By no means did I do it by myself. Now I was nervous. The cancer proved to be a greater foe than I expected. Dr. Einhorn delivered the news; 2 rounds of high dose chemo with stem cell rescue. Each round was 3 weeks in the IU hospital with 1 week rest, and he wanted to start in 1 week. Never mind the fact that we had just moved into a new condo 9 days earlier. So, it was another night in Indianapolis, more tests the next day, then I headed home with my young family to spend 4 days preparing to return to Indianapolis for 3 weeks. My wife is a saint! The next 7 weeks were hell! I don't know if there is any way to really explain what it was like. The cancer and the treatment broke me down and my wife pulled me through. The start of treatment was apheresis. They placed 2 catheters in my jugular and filtered my blood through a machine 12-13 times over 2 days, pulling out stem cells that would later save my life. Then there was 3 days of chemo. We noticed the chemo was in a glass bottle instead of a plastic bag. Megan asked the nurse why and the answer was shocking. This high dose chemo was so strong that it would eat through the plastic. This is what they were pumping into my veins for 3 days, 3 hours each day! Then, after 2 days of rest came an infusion of my stem cells, then the crash. The treatment took all my energy. There were several days that I slept 22-23 of the 24 hours. I barely woke up to eat. I barely recall visitors or conversations. I looked forward to days when Megan came with Ethan, but my state scared even Ethan. Megan tried to bring Ethan to the hospital daily, but he sensed how sick I was and it just upset him. For the second trip down we left him in Toledo with grandparents. Going back for a second round of high dose chemo is the hardest thing I have ever done. Knowing that I would be completely drained of energy, appetite and strength and that I would be in one room for 3 weeks seemed to suck the life out of me. We left Ethan in Toledo and drove away, both of us crying. Megan would return on the weekends, but I knew it would be 3 weeks until I saw him. I hated the cancer at this point. It brings tears to my eyes now to think about leaving him behind.