Pressing Record As My Friend Faces Cancer
I always wanted to make a feature film, but I didn’t think it would be of my friend getting cancer.
February 16, 2012
I am in rural Brazil working an assignment as a videographer, shooting a series of news stories for The Agribusiness Report, an ag news network based out of Des Moines. Before editing video for the day, I get a quick chance to check in on social media. There I see a blog post from a friend of mine from high school, Jake Bouma: I have been diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma.
Jake and I became friends through the theater department. We had a way of making each other laugh and appeared in several sketches and plays together. I even adapted a one-act play from the immensely talented Spencer Griffin (now a huge creative force with CollegeHumor, then the star senior of many plays), into my first student film, True Words, and cast Jake in the lead.
Like many high school friendships, we went on different paths post-graduation. I think we may have only talked once or twice since.
Back in Brazil, I’m sitting at the computer in shock. Here is my friend now facing a challenge that I thankfully have never had to face. Not only is he facing it head on, but he’s using the opportunity to educate others and provide hope for the road he’s on.
I wanted to help Jake tell his story. I didn’t really know what path to take and I spoke with Rachel, my wife, about it. I wanted to make a film with him and document the journey. A couple of days later, I finally send out my message into the internet ether, not sure of his reply.
A week later, Rachel and I are sitting at a busy Panera with Jake and his wife, Libby. It’s been years since I’ve spoken with him, but we got on like always. Libby is an absolute jewel, as well. We hash out our plans, our goals, and decide to make a film together. One thing I had forgotten about Jake is that while he’s always a happy person, he gets a specific glint in his eye and a gentle smirk when he’s genuinely excited to be doing something he’s proud of.
All I thought was I hope I don’t mess this up.
Before we officially started production on what would become Let’s Do This: Facing Hodgkin Lymphoma, Jake had been filming his doctor’s appointments and thoughts with a Flip-cam (my word, how quickly those went out of style) and his iPhone. Jake was unguarded, speaking his mind to the camera in the same manner he would talking to a good friend. It’s almost surprising how open he is in front of the camera. While this could be a common byproduct of the increasingly open voyeurism of social media, his frank candor made watching his video diary rather captivating. You’re there during his appointments. You’re a part of his discussions with Libby regarding their new future.
I wondered if I could be so candid about a life-threatening event in my life as it was happening. Granted, Hodgkin lymphoma is one of the types of cancer that the success rates are high, but the risks are still there. Were I in Jake’s shoes, I’d be thinking, “will these videos become a time capsule for me to marvel at in the future… or a testament of my final words?” Although, if I thought that, I’d probably stop filming.
It wasn’t until I filmed his port procedure (surgically implanting a device that will make drawing blood and undergoing chemotherapy easier) that I understood why Jake was willing to be so candid to his own camera, expressing his doubts and worries… as well as his hopes in such a straightforward manner. Many people think of the camera as a mirror, but in the moment of stress, holding that camera can become a shield.
I wasn’t in the moment with Jake, I was documenting it. My attention was on pulling focus. I had to make sure that I wasn’t in the way of surgeons. I needed to get all the shots I needed in order to make a cohesive sequence in the edit bay. What music could I use? How much of the surgery should I show? I’m making creative decisions instead of thinking about how my friend is currently passed out in front of me, having tubing threaded into his veins.
Months went on and Jake went through his rounds of chemo. I’d interview with him during his chemo stupor and then again a few days later in order to give people an idea of what immediate toll is taken and how it won’t last forever. There is a bright side, but it really sucks getting there.
June 22, 2012
Jake had a second PET scan of his chest to see if the hell he went through was worth it. Are the tumors gone? Does he need more treatment? His oncologist granted me access to film the results. It wasn’t indicative of if there’d be good news or bad news, but I definitely needed that on-camera.
It was unlike anything I had ever filmed.
We had a few people following Jake along on his story online and I wanted to post the raw video for him to share with his friends and family. I didn’t expect the response we would receive.
Jake posted the video on Reddit that night and the views on the video exploded with over 60,000 views by morning. I certainly have never experienced a video going viral and was happy to provide something positive for people to see. We had articles featuring our video in Yahoo!, The Huffington Post,and The Des Moines Register. Jake and Libby even appeared on Right This Minute and Talk of Iowa on Iowa Public Radio.
I adored Jake and Libby getting this attention and I was genuinely elated for them, but what struck me was that as I was filming, I felt none of this emotion. I was in the exact same headspace as when I shot Jake’s surgery. I’m pulling focus. I’m just making sure I had the shots I need. Even in the raw video, you see me moving to different positions to get better angles. I’m just making sure I get what I need for a sequence and, unfortunately, I’m not in the moment while these two great people get the best news of their lives. That’s the way of a videographer, I suppose. Just get the shot.
May 16, 2016
It took a while to finally finish our documentary, but when Jake and I also have full-time jobs, these things take time. Now that it’s done and available, I have received quite the gift during festival screenings: I get the opportunity to feel these moments through the eyes of the audience. I watch their frustrations during the trials of treatment and the overwhelming emotion in the room during the film’s finale scenes. While I was focused on production on the day, it’s amazing to be able to just experience with a group the story of these two people. Perhaps, through the film, they even get to see through my eyes, as well.
They get to see what it is like to be Jake’s friend.