Tuesday is my next scan, a CT of the chest, pelvis and abdomen. For the most part I get a bit nervous before and after the scans, until I receive the results, then I'm back to living again.
I feel pretty confident going into the scan though. I've been feeling stronger and stronger, and I don't seem to have any symptoms outside those caused by the chemotherapy. But you just never know. Cancer is a sneaky little devil.
This is also that time of year when everything has come to the forefront in the past. So there's a little bit of voodoo that hangs in the air. I just want to put my head down get through the next couple weeks with no evidence of further disease and I'll be filled with confidence.
Beyond waiting for those scan results, I'm also very dedicated right now to tackling my weight loss. My appetite is great. I'm eating very well. Yet still my weight continues to trickle downwards. I've been patient about it, thinking that it would take a little time to turn the weight loss around and begin to gain. But I'm losing my patience.
I mean yesterday I ate big again. I think I ate more than most ate in a normal day. But still the weight slowly trickles down. My vast medical knowledge (ahem) tells me that there is something about the chemo that is blocking the gas from getting to the car. It's going to be a major subject for me when I meet with the oncologist the second week of March.
I'm eating well. I'm exercising. I mean come on! The doc hinted that we may be able to use a steroid to help the weight gain along. Woohoo! Another pill in my daily diet!
I guess if steroids and human growth hormones are good enough for our sports' stars than they're good enough for me huh?
So it's wait and weight. I'll wait for my test results. And I'll find answers to the weight loss. Either way I'll be waking up every day and fighting this thing. Against all odds, I'm still determined to beat it.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Can You Read This Line?
Well, no, not with my right eye, but I can read nearly the whole chart with my left eye.
Went to the eye doctor yesterday. This appointment had been delayed a little over a year because of cancer's move to my brain this time last year.
My eye doctor isn't in a shopping mall. He's a very serious doctor, a surgeon. And he's an interesting guy for sure. My primary physician calls him a "genius."
He's Orthodox Jewish, with the yamika and a full beard. And yesterday he was sporting bright red socks and army boots. He's very amicable, very polite and extremely well-mannered and well-spoken. And he is very, very smart. Oh, and he calls me "brother." I like that. (smile)
For the first forty-years of my life I never knew that I had something called fourth-nerve palsy, until this doctor discovered it upon my first visit, more than a year ago. Fourth-nerve palsy is a condition where both eyes do not work exactly in conjunction with one another. One eye will roll-up or out or down a bit. Often it is caught early on in life and fixed through surgery. The primary result of fourth-nerve palsy is double vision.
The doctor was amazed that I made it through 40-years without knowledge of the condition, and with perfect eye sight.
"You played basketball?" he asked me.
"Yep, I was pretty good too." I answered.
"I don't know how you pulled that off," he said shaking his head.
Well it turns out that I would tilt my head a little until everything came into focus, or I would close my right eye at times and let the left eye do the work.
When I played basketball I always cocked my body a little to the left. This drove my coach in high school nuts who continuously begged me to square off to the basket.
When the doctor found out that I was in the graphic arts he was even more surprised.
As I discussed it with family and friends it all seemed to come together. Many people had seen me working on the computer with the right eye closed. Pictures from childhood showed me with my head tilted slightly to the left.
During and after the radiation treatments the fourth-nerve palsy became very evident, and caused me a lot of eye strain. I've meant to get back to this eye doctor. But as time went on the strain on my eyes seem to continuously improve. It was a moving target for him to analyze. So I waited.
According to the doc, a new treatment has been developed to correct this condition. A series of Botox injections are made in the muscles around the affected eye to convince those muscles to act in conjunction with the other eye.
Seems pretty wild to me. I scheduled an appointment with two of his associates who specialize in this. I'll meet with them in April.
In the meantime I write this blog with my right eye slightly closed.
The doctor again yesterday expressed disbelief that I've functioned this long, and this well, without ever noticing this.
"I thought this is how everyone saw the world," I said to him.
We both laughed.
And by the way, my vision is still terrific. My left eye is definitely stronger than my right. But there's still no need for glasses.
Went to the eye doctor yesterday. This appointment had been delayed a little over a year because of cancer's move to my brain this time last year.
My eye doctor isn't in a shopping mall. He's a very serious doctor, a surgeon. And he's an interesting guy for sure. My primary physician calls him a "genius."
He's Orthodox Jewish, with the yamika and a full beard. And yesterday he was sporting bright red socks and army boots. He's very amicable, very polite and extremely well-mannered and well-spoken. And he is very, very smart. Oh, and he calls me "brother." I like that. (smile)
For the first forty-years of my life I never knew that I had something called fourth-nerve palsy, until this doctor discovered it upon my first visit, more than a year ago. Fourth-nerve palsy is a condition where both eyes do not work exactly in conjunction with one another. One eye will roll-up or out or down a bit. Often it is caught early on in life and fixed through surgery. The primary result of fourth-nerve palsy is double vision.
The doctor was amazed that I made it through 40-years without knowledge of the condition, and with perfect eye sight.
"You played basketball?" he asked me.
"Yep, I was pretty good too." I answered.
"I don't know how you pulled that off," he said shaking his head.
Well it turns out that I would tilt my head a little until everything came into focus, or I would close my right eye at times and let the left eye do the work.
When I played basketball I always cocked my body a little to the left. This drove my coach in high school nuts who continuously begged me to square off to the basket.
When the doctor found out that I was in the graphic arts he was even more surprised.
As I discussed it with family and friends it all seemed to come together. Many people had seen me working on the computer with the right eye closed. Pictures from childhood showed me with my head tilted slightly to the left.
During and after the radiation treatments the fourth-nerve palsy became very evident, and caused me a lot of eye strain. I've meant to get back to this eye doctor. But as time went on the strain on my eyes seem to continuously improve. It was a moving target for him to analyze. So I waited.
According to the doc, a new treatment has been developed to correct this condition. A series of Botox injections are made in the muscles around the affected eye to convince those muscles to act in conjunction with the other eye.
Seems pretty wild to me. I scheduled an appointment with two of his associates who specialize in this. I'll meet with them in April.
In the meantime I write this blog with my right eye slightly closed.
The doctor again yesterday expressed disbelief that I've functioned this long, and this well, without ever noticing this.
"I thought this is how everyone saw the world," I said to him.
We both laughed.
And by the way, my vision is still terrific. My left eye is definitely stronger than my right. But there's still no need for glasses.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The Formula
The formula for living a healthy day is similar for all of us. I just need to focus on it a little more than most.
We all need to stay active both physically and mentally for the health of our mind and body.
And we all need to break to eat and refuel so we have continued energy to burn.
Last, but not least, we all need to rest and sleep so we can get up and do it all over again.
I focus in on these simple rules of good health, while chemo fights hard to make sure I do none of these things.
Staying active is immensely important for me to feel energized throughout the day. Chemo makes you feel fatique. Chemo asks you to sit down and watch a "Cheers" marathon on TV. But I just have to get up, and get going, fight it each and every day and once I'm active I'm on my way.
Planning the relaunch of the design business has been very helpful in adding a beneficial activity to my day, keeping my mind active, helping to keep the energy high.
I'm also dedicated to an exercise routine, 30-minutes everyday (except Sundays), switching days between the Bowflex and the bike. It leaves me with sore muscles the next day, but those are good sore muscles letting me know the exercise is working.
Again the chemo tries its best to make you not want to get up, not move to the exercise room, not get started. But I just have to get myself up, fight and get started, and then I'm on my way.
Chemo will also work hard to make me not want anything to do with food. I have looked to the assistance of one medication to help with appetite. But I haven't been using it often because I've been developing a good appetite without it.
It may sound strange, but I believe there's a trigger in the brain that can see food as yummy or disgusting. I've been working on triggering yummy with some success. There's a certain animal instinct to hunger that makes us ravenous, different. Ever watch a really hungry person tear into a plate of spaghetti and meatballs? I concentrate on bringing out that animal. And I concentrate on all the enjoyable aspects of eating and food, part of the reason I can't settle for processed foods.
Let's see - yesterday I started with two slices of cranberry breakfast bread that Barb baked, then for brunch I had a chicken patty sandwich with lettuce and mayo on a large kaiser roll, then lunch was a hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy from the deli across the street, then dinner was topsy turvy beef pie (contact my Mom for more details on that dish). And I think that's pretty good eating for a day. But the weight stays the same. I'd like to see it rise a bit. But I'm eating.
I'm staying active in the mind, staying active physically, eating well and sleeping well. It's the recipe we all try to follow. For me, it's just a little more difficult to do these simple things. But I do look at it as a fight. And I do tell the cancer and the chemo that I have no intent on giving up or giving in. I'm going to work. I'm going to exercise. I'm going to eat.
Sorry Mr. Chemo sir, but we're just going to have to miss the "Cheers" marathon on TV.
We all need to stay active both physically and mentally for the health of our mind and body.
And we all need to break to eat and refuel so we have continued energy to burn.
Last, but not least, we all need to rest and sleep so we can get up and do it all over again.
I focus in on these simple rules of good health, while chemo fights hard to make sure I do none of these things.
Staying active is immensely important for me to feel energized throughout the day. Chemo makes you feel fatique. Chemo asks you to sit down and watch a "Cheers" marathon on TV. But I just have to get up, and get going, fight it each and every day and once I'm active I'm on my way.
Planning the relaunch of the design business has been very helpful in adding a beneficial activity to my day, keeping my mind active, helping to keep the energy high.
I'm also dedicated to an exercise routine, 30-minutes everyday (except Sundays), switching days between the Bowflex and the bike. It leaves me with sore muscles the next day, but those are good sore muscles letting me know the exercise is working.
Again the chemo tries its best to make you not want to get up, not move to the exercise room, not get started. But I just have to get myself up, fight and get started, and then I'm on my way.
Chemo will also work hard to make me not want anything to do with food. I have looked to the assistance of one medication to help with appetite. But I haven't been using it often because I've been developing a good appetite without it.
It may sound strange, but I believe there's a trigger in the brain that can see food as yummy or disgusting. I've been working on triggering yummy with some success. There's a certain animal instinct to hunger that makes us ravenous, different. Ever watch a really hungry person tear into a plate of spaghetti and meatballs? I concentrate on bringing out that animal. And I concentrate on all the enjoyable aspects of eating and food, part of the reason I can't settle for processed foods.
Let's see - yesterday I started with two slices of cranberry breakfast bread that Barb baked, then for brunch I had a chicken patty sandwich with lettuce and mayo on a large kaiser roll, then lunch was a hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy from the deli across the street, then dinner was topsy turvy beef pie (contact my Mom for more details on that dish). And I think that's pretty good eating for a day. But the weight stays the same. I'd like to see it rise a bit. But I'm eating.
I'm staying active in the mind, staying active physically, eating well and sleeping well. It's the recipe we all try to follow. For me, it's just a little more difficult to do these simple things. But I do look at it as a fight. And I do tell the cancer and the chemo that I have no intent on giving up or giving in. I'm going to work. I'm going to exercise. I'm going to eat.
Sorry Mr. Chemo sir, but we're just going to have to miss the "Cheers" marathon on TV.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Come On Spring
Come on Spring if you can,
and much earlier and when,
they'll be more to do,
and more to see,
such as the birds and the bees.
You can go outside and see the buds,
watch the birds in the skies above.
Take a walk if you choose,
in the spring it's not time to snooze.
Come on Spring if you can,
in time for Easter,
upon this we depend.
and much earlier and when,
they'll be more to do,
and more to see,
such as the birds and the bees.
You can go outside and see the buds,
watch the birds in the skies above.
Take a walk if you choose,
in the spring it's not time to snooze.
Come on Spring if you can,
in time for Easter,
upon this we depend.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Web Work
Whew. You can just see the big chunks of rust falling off of me as I've gotten back into working with a web site the past two-days.
It's coming back to me pretty quick. But after the 11-month vacation from work, well, I am a bit rusty. I'm much more interested in the design and communication aspect of the web. But you can't work on the web without getting into all the code. And the code, and the web, doesn't stop advancing. There are literally new things every day. It's very fluid, very exciting.
As I've been working the past two-days I've been engulfed in it. Hours can fly by as I dive into line after line of code. The great thing about working on web sites is the answers to just about everything are right there on the web, if you have enough perserverance to look for them.
When I worked at Zero Restriction one vice-president asked me, "You taught yourself how to do all of this stuff?"
You just need to know where to look, or who to ask. I've always said that I've learned so much about my craft through the years by buying the right people cheeseburgers and a beer.
It's coming back to me pretty quick. But after the 11-month vacation from work, well, I am a bit rusty. I'm much more interested in the design and communication aspect of the web. But you can't work on the web without getting into all the code. And the code, and the web, doesn't stop advancing. There are literally new things every day. It's very fluid, very exciting.
As I've been working the past two-days I've been engulfed in it. Hours can fly by as I dive into line after line of code. The great thing about working on web sites is the answers to just about everything are right there on the web, if you have enough perserverance to look for them.
When I worked at Zero Restriction one vice-president asked me, "You taught yourself how to do all of this stuff?"
You just need to know where to look, or who to ask. I've always said that I've learned so much about my craft through the years by buying the right people cheeseburgers and a beer.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Chicken Croquettes, Mashed Potatoes with Gravy, and Corn
One of the real treasures of Marietta is right out our front door and across the street. It's the "deli."
The deli has a ton of history in this town that goes back generations and generations in the same family, with its origins as the town's butcher shop.
The official name is "Youndt's Deli." But the locals say "Yuntzes."
The deli is not much to look at. If you didn't already know about it, it could be easy to drive by without even noticing. And even if you notice there's nothing really overly attractive about it to draw you in. There's a simple, modest, wooden sign out front.
The deli customer space is small, cramped in front of the cash register, surrounded by counters and coolers. You can buy and onion, a cheeseburger sub, a couple stuffed pork chops, a pound of American cheese, a gallon of milk, and a butterscotch krimpet. For those in the know in town, this is where you go.
And being right across the street, we visit the deli nearly every day.
There's a couple of things that are really unique about the deli. From Monday to Friday, every week, the deli owner and his wife make HUGE homemade meals and sell them in plastic snap-top containers for $4 to $5. One portion is enough for two people. And the food is good old Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine - Chicken Pot Pie, Meatloaf, Salisbury Steak, Chicken Croquettes, Swiss Steak, Stuffed Chicken Breast, Hot Roast Beef Sandwiches, Spaghetti with Meatballs, Ham and String Beans, Ham Loaf, Shepherd's Pie, and all the fixings. It's out of this world.
On most days the deli sells out. It's wise to reserve a serving of the Chicken Croquettes a day in advance. How the deli pulls off huge, delicious, homemade meals at the same price as a burger, fry and soda at Burger King boggles my mind.
But you don't question a blessing - and right across the street, what a blessing!
We do live in Marietta's business district, which is also its historic district on the National Registrar of Historic Places. But it's much more of a historic district than it is a commercial area. The only real clue that it is a business area is the parking meters that extend for a three-block range.
Unlike local towns like Lititz, which has thrived because busy Route 501 intersects town, Marietta has no well-travelled roads. There is River Road, and it sees some pretty decent traffic. But it's outside Marietta. Without traffic, Marietta's a sleepy little town, a nice place to live, but not a great place for most businesses that depend on traffic volume, like the deli.
But the deli thrives on simple principles of quality product, good pricing, friendly folks, and a long history of delivering those principles.
It's rare that someone walks into the deli that isn't recognized. The same family has been feeding the same families for a long time.
And if you're a regular customer you know that there's a keg of Coor's Light tapped behind the wall behind the one cooler. The tap sticks through the wall very modestly, really almost unnoticed to all but those who know. There's a stack of plastic cups on the nearby counter. It works on the honor system. Some locals like to have a beer while they're waiting for their lunch.
Only in Marietta . . .
When we first learned that cancer had moved to my brain the deli knew. I don't know how they knew. But they do seem to be able to keep up with everything in town.
They immediately made us up a huge tray of sandwiches. We were so thankful. We finished them all. You just can't that kind of stuff at Burger King.
The deli has a ton of history in this town that goes back generations and generations in the same family, with its origins as the town's butcher shop.
The official name is "Youndt's Deli." But the locals say "Yuntzes."
The deli is not much to look at. If you didn't already know about it, it could be easy to drive by without even noticing. And even if you notice there's nothing really overly attractive about it to draw you in. There's a simple, modest, wooden sign out front.
The deli customer space is small, cramped in front of the cash register, surrounded by counters and coolers. You can buy and onion, a cheeseburger sub, a couple stuffed pork chops, a pound of American cheese, a gallon of milk, and a butterscotch krimpet. For those in the know in town, this is where you go.
And being right across the street, we visit the deli nearly every day.
There's a couple of things that are really unique about the deli. From Monday to Friday, every week, the deli owner and his wife make HUGE homemade meals and sell them in plastic snap-top containers for $4 to $5. One portion is enough for two people. And the food is good old Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine - Chicken Pot Pie, Meatloaf, Salisbury Steak, Chicken Croquettes, Swiss Steak, Stuffed Chicken Breast, Hot Roast Beef Sandwiches, Spaghetti with Meatballs, Ham and String Beans, Ham Loaf, Shepherd's Pie, and all the fixings. It's out of this world.
On most days the deli sells out. It's wise to reserve a serving of the Chicken Croquettes a day in advance. How the deli pulls off huge, delicious, homemade meals at the same price as a burger, fry and soda at Burger King boggles my mind.
But you don't question a blessing - and right across the street, what a blessing!
We do live in Marietta's business district, which is also its historic district on the National Registrar of Historic Places. But it's much more of a historic district than it is a commercial area. The only real clue that it is a business area is the parking meters that extend for a three-block range.
Unlike local towns like Lititz, which has thrived because busy Route 501 intersects town, Marietta has no well-travelled roads. There is River Road, and it sees some pretty decent traffic. But it's outside Marietta. Without traffic, Marietta's a sleepy little town, a nice place to live, but not a great place for most businesses that depend on traffic volume, like the deli.
But the deli thrives on simple principles of quality product, good pricing, friendly folks, and a long history of delivering those principles.
It's rare that someone walks into the deli that isn't recognized. The same family has been feeding the same families for a long time.
And if you're a regular customer you know that there's a keg of Coor's Light tapped behind the wall behind the one cooler. The tap sticks through the wall very modestly, really almost unnoticed to all but those who know. There's a stack of plastic cups on the nearby counter. It works on the honor system. Some locals like to have a beer while they're waiting for their lunch.
Only in Marietta . . .
When we first learned that cancer had moved to my brain the deli knew. I don't know how they knew. But they do seem to be able to keep up with everything in town.
They immediately made us up a huge tray of sandwiches. We were so thankful. We finished them all. You just can't that kind of stuff at Burger King.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Running
The bank, the convenience store, the pharmacy, the gas station, the vet's office for Freckles food, we did some running today.
The La-Z-Boy feels even more comfortable than usual, as Barb stops running too to take in some Little House on the Prairie. We've come to an agreement. She gets the TV from three to five every day for Little House. I get it Saturday afternoons to watch Premier League soccer from England.
It's been running a bit every day this week. But tomorrow we're finally in the house, and with 3-inches of snow coming overnight that works out just fine for me.
Trying to get our web site up and running again. Doing a little tweaking to the former site but keeping it in the same style, not going for a complete redo. I continuosly debate whether to write more, provide more information, but I end up thinking people enjoy being more visual, entertained, amused.
The kids . . . I'm sorry, young adults . . . are coming over tonight for some Chicken Cordon Bleu with the starch and vegetable du jour. We always look forward to Thursday night dinner with the two. I do try to keep them on their toes, and they keep me on mine.
The days are getting longer and it will soon be time to "spring forward." Barb reported that the blue bells out back had begun to poke out of the dirt - well at least before it snowed yesterday, about an inch.
Even with the three-inches of snow coming tonight, Spring is on its way. I can't wait. A breeze blowing through the house. The backyard coming to life. I'm ready.
The La-Z-Boy feels even more comfortable than usual, as Barb stops running too to take in some Little House on the Prairie. We've come to an agreement. She gets the TV from three to five every day for Little House. I get it Saturday afternoons to watch Premier League soccer from England.
It's been running a bit every day this week. But tomorrow we're finally in the house, and with 3-inches of snow coming overnight that works out just fine for me.
Trying to get our web site up and running again. Doing a little tweaking to the former site but keeping it in the same style, not going for a complete redo. I continuosly debate whether to write more, provide more information, but I end up thinking people enjoy being more visual, entertained, amused.
The kids . . . I'm sorry, young adults . . . are coming over tonight for some Chicken Cordon Bleu with the starch and vegetable du jour. We always look forward to Thursday night dinner with the two. I do try to keep them on their toes, and they keep me on mine.
The days are getting longer and it will soon be time to "spring forward." Barb reported that the blue bells out back had begun to poke out of the dirt - well at least before it snowed yesterday, about an inch.
Even with the three-inches of snow coming tonight, Spring is on its way. I can't wait. A breeze blowing through the house. The backyard coming to life. I'm ready.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
I Am Very Pretty
We typically plan out dinners two-weeks in advance. It's a guide, not a set-in stone menu. It helps me plan out meals that will hopefully put some pounds on me while being gentle on my digestive system. It also helps us make sure we pick-up the right stuff at the grocery store.
It seems to amaze my friends who stop by to see the two-week menu posted on the refrigerator. But when you've got the chemo going, you just can't wing it.
But last night we did decide to wing it. As I said the menu is just a guide, and something got traded with another day because of bad weather and a delayed trip to the store....so, we winged it.
We were going to walk down to the local pub and order take-out. But we quickly both agreed that it was way too cold for a couple block walk in the dark down the back alley to the pub. So we decided that we had to order from someone who would deliver.
Problem is, most delivery food has not gone real well for me. Pizza has not been real kind to me. And the one time I tried Chinese food during the past year I swore off Chinese food for the rest of my life.
But I suggested Chinese. A new Chinese place had opened in Mt. Joy and they left a menu in our doorway so we figured they delivered. I would not order from the Chinese restaurant in Columbia again. I've always maintained that it was the worst Chinese food I've ever had.
Barb approached this with trepidation. She knew I swore off Chinese forever. But I convinced her to let us give it a try. I've been a little bolder with variety of food lately, without much ill effect to the body.
Through the years it has become obvious to me that all Chinese restaurants in the U.S. answer to the same person or group. All the menus are exactly the same and they're all printed in red and green ink. I mean what are the chances?
It's like the mafia. Chinese immigrants are set-up with stores and than they must buy all the ingredients from the "boss," as well as line the boss's pockets with a portion of the proceeds.
Once at the Columbia Chinese restaurant I sat in the parking lot as Barb ran in to grab a bottle of wine. Suddenly a 7-series BMW pulled up in front of the restaurant. A very well dressed, and well polished Chinese man with Maryland license plates walked inside. In less than a minute he was on his way back out with a leather satchel - no food, just a leather satchel.
So we ordered Chinese from the new place in Mt. Joy. I went with Sesame Chicken, one of my past favorites.
The food arrived and to the surprise of Barb and I it was delicious. I loved it. The chicken actually looked like chicken, rather than mystery meat. Good sauce, covered in sesame seeds, nice broccoli, good old pork fried rice, it was hitting the spot.
Now I don't think anyone really ever finishes all their take-out Chinese food. They do give you so much. But I did make a major dent in mine, and the belly felt comfortably full.
We quickly cleaned up and then remembered the two fortune cookies on the kitchen counter.
Barb opened hers and it read "You are very creative and original."
She said, "I think I got your fortune."
"No," I argued. "You're very creative and original."
Then I opened mine. It read "You are very pretty."
OK. Maybe we did get them mixed up.
It seems to amaze my friends who stop by to see the two-week menu posted on the refrigerator. But when you've got the chemo going, you just can't wing it.
But last night we did decide to wing it. As I said the menu is just a guide, and something got traded with another day because of bad weather and a delayed trip to the store....so, we winged it.
We were going to walk down to the local pub and order take-out. But we quickly both agreed that it was way too cold for a couple block walk in the dark down the back alley to the pub. So we decided that we had to order from someone who would deliver.
Problem is, most delivery food has not gone real well for me. Pizza has not been real kind to me. And the one time I tried Chinese food during the past year I swore off Chinese food for the rest of my life.
But I suggested Chinese. A new Chinese place had opened in Mt. Joy and they left a menu in our doorway so we figured they delivered. I would not order from the Chinese restaurant in Columbia again. I've always maintained that it was the worst Chinese food I've ever had.
Barb approached this with trepidation. She knew I swore off Chinese forever. But I convinced her to let us give it a try. I've been a little bolder with variety of food lately, without much ill effect to the body.
Through the years it has become obvious to me that all Chinese restaurants in the U.S. answer to the same person or group. All the menus are exactly the same and they're all printed in red and green ink. I mean what are the chances?
It's like the mafia. Chinese immigrants are set-up with stores and than they must buy all the ingredients from the "boss," as well as line the boss's pockets with a portion of the proceeds.
Once at the Columbia Chinese restaurant I sat in the parking lot as Barb ran in to grab a bottle of wine. Suddenly a 7-series BMW pulled up in front of the restaurant. A very well dressed, and well polished Chinese man with Maryland license plates walked inside. In less than a minute he was on his way back out with a leather satchel - no food, just a leather satchel.
So we ordered Chinese from the new place in Mt. Joy. I went with Sesame Chicken, one of my past favorites.
The food arrived and to the surprise of Barb and I it was delicious. I loved it. The chicken actually looked like chicken, rather than mystery meat. Good sauce, covered in sesame seeds, nice broccoli, good old pork fried rice, it was hitting the spot.
Now I don't think anyone really ever finishes all their take-out Chinese food. They do give you so much. But I did make a major dent in mine, and the belly felt comfortably full.
We quickly cleaned up and then remembered the two fortune cookies on the kitchen counter.
Barb opened hers and it read "You are very creative and original."
She said, "I think I got your fortune."
"No," I argued. "You're very creative and original."
Then I opened mine. It read "You are very pretty."
OK. Maybe we did get them mixed up.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Calling Aetna
Aetna sold me a pharmacy benefit that read "$2,500 maximum annual out-of-pocket expense," then switched it to read "$2,500 maximum annual benefit" once my policy started.
I've been fighting it, but to no avail. I understand how the mistake happened - they were selling me the policy in December, then changed it with the new year without warning or notice.
So since my monthly drug costs are around, hmmmmmmm, $6,000 a month, I can reach their $2,500 maximum benefit really fast.
The chemo drug Nexavar, by far, costs the most, clocking in at just under $5,000. But an appetite stimulant goes for $500 a month, another for just over $100, and another the same, and on and on.
So far Bayer Pharmaceuticals has been generous enough to provide the chemo to me under a Patient Assistance Program. That status will be re-evaluated towards the end of this month.
The other costs Aetna will cover until $2,500 is reached and then I'm on my own.
Last year the benefits just ran out. I had no knowledge, no idea, just woke up one day, got a phone call and suddenly a month's supply of something cost me $200. I honestly never had any idea just how expensive prescription drugs have become.
This year I need to budget, question everything, keep track of all costs, to ensure I'm getting the most bang for the buck on every single prescription.
I've already decided that the $500 appetite aid is out. It certainly helped my appetite but at $500 a month I'd be out of pharmacy benefits for the year by May.
So the doc gave me some samples of something called Nexium. It is supposed to help calm my overactive stomach down, and I did think that it was helpful for the week I took it.
So yesterday I needed to call Aetna to find out more about Nexium, specifically what the real cost was so I could budget and plan, and decide whether this drug would break the bank or if I could afford it.
I dread calling Aetna. Most of the time, I swear, I think I'd be better off just dialing a wrong number.
Well first you must go through the questions and answers that the computerized woman's voice asks. She never seems to understand me so I end up shouting the answers back into the phone.
After meandering through the lengthy Q&A I am put on a hold for about 5 minutes. Suddenly a customer service representative answers the phone. The first thing she asks for is all of the same answers I shouted into the phone to the computerized woman.
"OK. What can I do for you Mr. Albert?" she asks.
Now I've been on the phone for about 10 minutes at this point.
I explain my situation to her, the $2,500 maximum benefit, how I need to find out true costs of drugs just not co-pay costs.
She's completely confused. She pulls up my policy and sees the $2,500 maximum pharmacy benefit. The benefit is so ridiculously poor and useless she refuses to believe that it works the way I explain to her. She rationalizes that I'm wrong and I should only be adding up co-pays to track when I'm reaching $2,500.
No, I explain to her, I've been through this. Yes, it is an unbelievably poor benefit but it's true. It's the true cost of the drug, and that's what I need to find out.
We pleaded with each other, begging the other to believe our stories. There was no doubt I had it right. Here I was explaining to an Aetna employee how my policy works.
She became exasperated with me and finally said that they have a seperate pharmacy division and maybe there was something she was missing and perhaps she should transfer me to the pharmacy side.
(SIGH) OK.
After another five minutes on hold I landed in the pharmacy division. I had to restate all the answers I had initially shouted into the phone to the computerized woman's voice earlier.
"OK Mr. Albert, how can I help you?"
I explained the whole situation again. My doc is wanting to prescribe a drug called Nexium and I need to find out it's true cost.
Again the csr began to tell me that I don't understand and I really do not need that information. She explained to me that "$2,500 maximum annual benefit" meant that I had to cover the first $2,500 before Aetna would cover anything.
"It's not a deductible. I have a $100 deductible, paid that on the first prescription of January. It's a maximum benefit," I explained, increasingly frustrated.
This was the second Aetna representative who did not understand Aetna's policies. This is not rare. This happens everytime I call.
Frustrated with me the csr asks if I can hold while she does some research. I've been here before too. I can sit on hold for 10 to 15-minutes at this point. Often times the line suddenly goes dead. Someone hanging up on me?
But this time I hang up, right away as soon as I'm put on hold. The lesson learned is if you get someone who has no clue what they're talking about, just hang-up and keep calling back. Sooner or later you'll get someone who knows something.
And that's what I do. I shout into the phone at the computerized woman's voice again. I sit on hold for another five minutes. And finally someone picks up and she knows exactly what I'm talking about, and understands exactly what information I need and why I need it.
Unfortunately, she explains, since we have different divisions I don't have any access to the total drug costs.
"How does my pharmacist always know what the costs are and Aetna doesn't?" I ask. "If you were in my position what would you do?"
"I'd call your pharmacist," she replies meekly.
I called the pharmacist. I was not on hold at all, one transfer and right to the pharmacist. I explained the situation. She understood completely. And she had the monthly cost of Nexium for me in less than 30-seconds - $125 a month.
"But there is an over-the-counter alternative," she said, "it's exactly the same thing and only will cost you $20 a month."
Why do I call Aetna?
I've been fighting it, but to no avail. I understand how the mistake happened - they were selling me the policy in December, then changed it with the new year without warning or notice.
So since my monthly drug costs are around, hmmmmmmm, $6,000 a month, I can reach their $2,500 maximum benefit really fast.
The chemo drug Nexavar, by far, costs the most, clocking in at just under $5,000. But an appetite stimulant goes for $500 a month, another for just over $100, and another the same, and on and on.
So far Bayer Pharmaceuticals has been generous enough to provide the chemo to me under a Patient Assistance Program. That status will be re-evaluated towards the end of this month.
The other costs Aetna will cover until $2,500 is reached and then I'm on my own.
Last year the benefits just ran out. I had no knowledge, no idea, just woke up one day, got a phone call and suddenly a month's supply of something cost me $200. I honestly never had any idea just how expensive prescription drugs have become.
This year I need to budget, question everything, keep track of all costs, to ensure I'm getting the most bang for the buck on every single prescription.
I've already decided that the $500 appetite aid is out. It certainly helped my appetite but at $500 a month I'd be out of pharmacy benefits for the year by May.
So the doc gave me some samples of something called Nexium. It is supposed to help calm my overactive stomach down, and I did think that it was helpful for the week I took it.
So yesterday I needed to call Aetna to find out more about Nexium, specifically what the real cost was so I could budget and plan, and decide whether this drug would break the bank or if I could afford it.
I dread calling Aetna. Most of the time, I swear, I think I'd be better off just dialing a wrong number.
Well first you must go through the questions and answers that the computerized woman's voice asks. She never seems to understand me so I end up shouting the answers back into the phone.
After meandering through the lengthy Q&A I am put on a hold for about 5 minutes. Suddenly a customer service representative answers the phone. The first thing she asks for is all of the same answers I shouted into the phone to the computerized woman.
"OK. What can I do for you Mr. Albert?" she asks.
Now I've been on the phone for about 10 minutes at this point.
I explain my situation to her, the $2,500 maximum benefit, how I need to find out true costs of drugs just not co-pay costs.
She's completely confused. She pulls up my policy and sees the $2,500 maximum pharmacy benefit. The benefit is so ridiculously poor and useless she refuses to believe that it works the way I explain to her. She rationalizes that I'm wrong and I should only be adding up co-pays to track when I'm reaching $2,500.
No, I explain to her, I've been through this. Yes, it is an unbelievably poor benefit but it's true. It's the true cost of the drug, and that's what I need to find out.
We pleaded with each other, begging the other to believe our stories. There was no doubt I had it right. Here I was explaining to an Aetna employee how my policy works.
She became exasperated with me and finally said that they have a seperate pharmacy division and maybe there was something she was missing and perhaps she should transfer me to the pharmacy side.
(SIGH) OK.
After another five minutes on hold I landed in the pharmacy division. I had to restate all the answers I had initially shouted into the phone to the computerized woman's voice earlier.
"OK Mr. Albert, how can I help you?"
I explained the whole situation again. My doc is wanting to prescribe a drug called Nexium and I need to find out it's true cost.
Again the csr began to tell me that I don't understand and I really do not need that information. She explained to me that "$2,500 maximum annual benefit" meant that I had to cover the first $2,500 before Aetna would cover anything.
"It's not a deductible. I have a $100 deductible, paid that on the first prescription of January. It's a maximum benefit," I explained, increasingly frustrated.
This was the second Aetna representative who did not understand Aetna's policies. This is not rare. This happens everytime I call.
Frustrated with me the csr asks if I can hold while she does some research. I've been here before too. I can sit on hold for 10 to 15-minutes at this point. Often times the line suddenly goes dead. Someone hanging up on me?
But this time I hang up, right away as soon as I'm put on hold. The lesson learned is if you get someone who has no clue what they're talking about, just hang-up and keep calling back. Sooner or later you'll get someone who knows something.
And that's what I do. I shout into the phone at the computerized woman's voice again. I sit on hold for another five minutes. And finally someone picks up and she knows exactly what I'm talking about, and understands exactly what information I need and why I need it.
Unfortunately, she explains, since we have different divisions I don't have any access to the total drug costs.
"How does my pharmacist always know what the costs are and Aetna doesn't?" I ask. "If you were in my position what would you do?"
"I'd call your pharmacist," she replies meekly.
I called the pharmacist. I was not on hold at all, one transfer and right to the pharmacist. I explained the situation. She understood completely. And she had the monthly cost of Nexium for me in less than 30-seconds - $125 a month.
"But there is an over-the-counter alternative," she said, "it's exactly the same thing and only will cost you $20 a month."
Why do I call Aetna?
Monday, February 18, 2008
Back to Business
It's involved a lot of thought and discussion, but I do now believe that it's in our best interest to open the business again - Albert Design Studio.
I closed the business 11-months ago. It was obvious going into the radiation treatments that there was no way I was going to be able to continue. I was the creative director, print designer, web designer, photographer, illustrator, salesman, account representative, receptionist, and . . . well, you get the picture. I put in some long days.
This time we're going to do it a little differently though. Barb is going to join me as a partner and take a load off my plate so I can concentrate almost solely on doing what I do best, creating great print collateral, web pages, and photographs.
As I said to Barb, "Just bring the work to me and get the billing out and we'll be fine."
I'm planning on starting back-up on April 1. But I am going to ease into it to start. My goal is to bill 16-hours a week. I am confident that I can handle that both mentally and physically, although I'll probably have to work 24-hours to bill 16-hours (it just always seems to work that way).
I really didn't think I would restart the business 11-months ago. I thought I would do something for sure. But I figured I would need to reinvent myself a bit to fit conditions.
Even though I finished all jobs I had in the studio, and left nothing hanging when I closed last year, I still felt very guilty for closing on my current clients, who were forced to find someone else to lead the creative charge on their publications and web sites.
And I fully understand if former clients do not want to take a risk on me, and chance having to go through that again. But I've been surprised and touched by how many of my clients have asked me, "When are you going to start doing some design work again?"
So, we'll plan from now to April 1, filing appropriate papers with the state and seeking assignment of a new federal tax ID number. I'll tweak the web site and post it live again. We've already crunched all the numbers and revisited my original business plan.
I think it's all a very positive idea with a few very practical rewards.
First, I do find the work very therapeutic. There's nothing more that makes me feel energized and enthused the way working my own business does. It's the realization of a 25-year dream come true. And I love the type of work I do and my mind enjoys being thoroughly engulfed in it. It's a great way to promote living life, and forgetting about cancer.
Also, we always played with the idea of Barb joining me as a partner. Now we'll get to play that out and it will be very exciting. I think she's a little nervous because she doesn't feel like she understands what I do well enough. But I think she's a tremendous addition with vast experience in everything involved in running the front office of a business, from taxes to payroll, from collections to customer service. I see ways that she can contribute enormously.
And as a "group" of two people we become eligible for group health insurance, which we have already begun to investigate. It's a strange mystery to me, and if anyone understands the rationale behind this I'd love to know, but for some reason Congress chose to protect individuals in Group Plans, but chose not to protect individuals who have Individual Plans.
For example, the HIPAA statute passed by Congress about 10-years ago protects individuals in group health plans from being discriminated against. No one can be denied coverage. No one can be cancelled from a policy. And no one can be penalized for a pre-existing condition. But it only covers group plans, not individual plans.
Why? I'd love to know. It's a good law, and important bit of legislation. But why fall short and not offer the same to individuals seeking their own insurance? There's a letter to my legislators in the works about that one.
Regardless, the benefits of opening the business again and getting back to work seem to outweigh the possible concerns or potential set-backs. So the planning continues.
So, if you know someone that needs top-notch communications work in print or on the web please ask me to send 'ya a business card. (We have very interesting business cards.) (smile)
I closed the business 11-months ago. It was obvious going into the radiation treatments that there was no way I was going to be able to continue. I was the creative director, print designer, web designer, photographer, illustrator, salesman, account representative, receptionist, and . . . well, you get the picture. I put in some long days.
This time we're going to do it a little differently though. Barb is going to join me as a partner and take a load off my plate so I can concentrate almost solely on doing what I do best, creating great print collateral, web pages, and photographs.
As I said to Barb, "Just bring the work to me and get the billing out and we'll be fine."
I'm planning on starting back-up on April 1. But I am going to ease into it to start. My goal is to bill 16-hours a week. I am confident that I can handle that both mentally and physically, although I'll probably have to work 24-hours to bill 16-hours (it just always seems to work that way).
I really didn't think I would restart the business 11-months ago. I thought I would do something for sure. But I figured I would need to reinvent myself a bit to fit conditions.
Even though I finished all jobs I had in the studio, and left nothing hanging when I closed last year, I still felt very guilty for closing on my current clients, who were forced to find someone else to lead the creative charge on their publications and web sites.
And I fully understand if former clients do not want to take a risk on me, and chance having to go through that again. But I've been surprised and touched by how many of my clients have asked me, "When are you going to start doing some design work again?"
So, we'll plan from now to April 1, filing appropriate papers with the state and seeking assignment of a new federal tax ID number. I'll tweak the web site and post it live again. We've already crunched all the numbers and revisited my original business plan.
I think it's all a very positive idea with a few very practical rewards.
First, I do find the work very therapeutic. There's nothing more that makes me feel energized and enthused the way working my own business does. It's the realization of a 25-year dream come true. And I love the type of work I do and my mind enjoys being thoroughly engulfed in it. It's a great way to promote living life, and forgetting about cancer.
Also, we always played with the idea of Barb joining me as a partner. Now we'll get to play that out and it will be very exciting. I think she's a little nervous because she doesn't feel like she understands what I do well enough. But I think she's a tremendous addition with vast experience in everything involved in running the front office of a business, from taxes to payroll, from collections to customer service. I see ways that she can contribute enormously.
And as a "group" of two people we become eligible for group health insurance, which we have already begun to investigate. It's a strange mystery to me, and if anyone understands the rationale behind this I'd love to know, but for some reason Congress chose to protect individuals in Group Plans, but chose not to protect individuals who have Individual Plans.
For example, the HIPAA statute passed by Congress about 10-years ago protects individuals in group health plans from being discriminated against. No one can be denied coverage. No one can be cancelled from a policy. And no one can be penalized for a pre-existing condition. But it only covers group plans, not individual plans.
Why? I'd love to know. It's a good law, and important bit of legislation. But why fall short and not offer the same to individuals seeking their own insurance? There's a letter to my legislators in the works about that one.
Regardless, the benefits of opening the business again and getting back to work seem to outweigh the possible concerns or potential set-backs. So the planning continues.
So, if you know someone that needs top-notch communications work in print or on the web please ask me to send 'ya a business card. (We have very interesting business cards.) (smile)
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Buttocks
One thing that the past year has taken from me is my buttocks.
When I was losing weight, I don't know how, I don't know why, but it simply disappeared. You have my lower back, and you have my upper thighs, and there's nothing else. It's simply gone.
It seemed to happen in an instant. One day I got a glimpse of myself sideways in the mirror, and it was gone. Possibly it just fell off. But I figured I would have stumbled upon it around the house by now. It just disappeared.
Now when you spend the first 18-years of your life being run ragged by coaches with shrieking whistles and short tempers, it leaves you with the rear-end of a horse.
When I lived in Philadelphia a girl came up to me in the Empire Rock Club on Roosevelt Boulevard one night and said out of nowhere, "You've got a pretty nice butt for a white guy."
LOL
For once in my life I was speechless, and quickly slinked away.
They say you never know what you've got until someone or something takes it away. Well it's gone.
But at age 43 I know I'm not being run into the ground everyday by well-meaning coaches. So I guess the only thing that kept the derriere of some size was all the Doritos I used to eat.
I had a bowl of Doritos yesterday.
When I was losing weight, I don't know how, I don't know why, but it simply disappeared. You have my lower back, and you have my upper thighs, and there's nothing else. It's simply gone.
It seemed to happen in an instant. One day I got a glimpse of myself sideways in the mirror, and it was gone. Possibly it just fell off. But I figured I would have stumbled upon it around the house by now. It just disappeared.
Now when you spend the first 18-years of your life being run ragged by coaches with shrieking whistles and short tempers, it leaves you with the rear-end of a horse.
When I lived in Philadelphia a girl came up to me in the Empire Rock Club on Roosevelt Boulevard one night and said out of nowhere, "You've got a pretty nice butt for a white guy."
LOL
For once in my life I was speechless, and quickly slinked away.
They say you never know what you've got until someone or something takes it away. Well it's gone.
But at age 43 I know I'm not being run into the ground everyday by well-meaning coaches. So I guess the only thing that kept the derriere of some size was all the Doritos I used to eat.
I had a bowl of Doritos yesterday.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
The Healing Power of the Laugh
Every now and then Barb or I will accidentally do something that seems so silly that we both suddenly, and uncontrollably, break out in laughter.
We laugh so hard it hurts.
And as soon as we think we're controlling the desire to laugh, in an instance we catch each other's eyes and we're off into a laughing fit again.
It is silly, and often times it's really not that earnestly funny. But something, occassionally touches our funny bone, and we're bent in two from laughter.
I've always been jealous of people who have great laughs. I mean great, big belly laughs that roar through a room and are completely contagious. Such big belly laughs that you just can't help yourself but to smile, if not join in the laughter.
I have no laugh. I mean I'm laughing inside and smiling. But mostly I open my mouth and a little air escapes and that's my laugh. It always has been.
But I've known people with good laughs, great big laughs. Laughs I wish I had.
But audible laugh or not, funny is still funny. I've always said that life is serious enough, don't be shy to be a little silly and have a good laugh.
Smiles and laughs can do a lot for the spirit and the soul.
A few weeks ago I pulled off a sock as I was getting ready for bed. Barb and I, for some reason, both happened to look down at the same time as the sock flew off, and there it was. A big fuzzy piece of the inside of my sock had attached itself to my big toe nail.
It's really not that funny. But it both of our funny bones the same way, at the same time.
We calmed down, kind of, in 10 or 15 minutes, our side's splitting but with a sense of warm healing power rushing through us.
Barb's been watching me take off my socks regularly in hopes of an encore. No encore has appeared as of yet.
But silly is always just around the corner. Laughter is the best medicine.
We laugh so hard it hurts.
And as soon as we think we're controlling the desire to laugh, in an instance we catch each other's eyes and we're off into a laughing fit again.
It is silly, and often times it's really not that earnestly funny. But something, occassionally touches our funny bone, and we're bent in two from laughter.
I've always been jealous of people who have great laughs. I mean great, big belly laughs that roar through a room and are completely contagious. Such big belly laughs that you just can't help yourself but to smile, if not join in the laughter.
I have no laugh. I mean I'm laughing inside and smiling. But mostly I open my mouth and a little air escapes and that's my laugh. It always has been.
But I've known people with good laughs, great big laughs. Laughs I wish I had.
But audible laugh or not, funny is still funny. I've always said that life is serious enough, don't be shy to be a little silly and have a good laugh.
Smiles and laughs can do a lot for the spirit and the soul.
A few weeks ago I pulled off a sock as I was getting ready for bed. Barb and I, for some reason, both happened to look down at the same time as the sock flew off, and there it was. A big fuzzy piece of the inside of my sock had attached itself to my big toe nail.
It's really not that funny. But it both of our funny bones the same way, at the same time.
We calmed down, kind of, in 10 or 15 minutes, our side's splitting but with a sense of warm healing power rushing through us.
Barb's been watching me take off my socks regularly in hopes of an encore. No encore has appeared as of yet.
But silly is always just around the corner. Laughter is the best medicine.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Is it Spring Yet?
Well I broke out of my two-day hibernation yesterday to make a Valentine's Day trip to the butcher and the grocery store. Yep, I'm a real romantic.
I had to chuckle at all the men in the grocery store, grabbing last minute flowers and boxes of chocolate.
From single-digit temperatures to snow and ice storms, the past couple days have been a winter wonderland.
On our trip to the store yesterday we saw a sawed off telephone pole and a barn that evidentally had a car drive into it. For me it was evidence that my two-day hibernation was a good choice.
"But you have four-wheel drive?!?!?" people say.
Yep, but that only helps me not get stuck somewhere. It doesn't prevent the chance of simply hydroplaning into a telephone pole. And boy did we have ice.
Our sidewalk out front is brick pavers. I've learned that the brick does not heat up in the day's sun and help melt snow and ice quite like cement does. Barb and I have both attacked our sidewalk with ice melt and various shovels. But it's been tough.
This is the time of year that I officially become tired of winter and start really thinking towards Spring. Enough is enough, I think to myself. I want to feel the breeze blow through open windows and across the house. I want to see the Earth come back to life, the trees budding. I want to see Freckles visiting with squirrels on the deck through the screen door.
But I shouldn't rush time. It will be here soon enough. In the meantime I need to wake up and take advantage of every day. I've got plenty on my plate.
I had to chuckle at all the men in the grocery store, grabbing last minute flowers and boxes of chocolate.
From single-digit temperatures to snow and ice storms, the past couple days have been a winter wonderland.
On our trip to the store yesterday we saw a sawed off telephone pole and a barn that evidentally had a car drive into it. For me it was evidence that my two-day hibernation was a good choice.
"But you have four-wheel drive?!?!?" people say.
Yep, but that only helps me not get stuck somewhere. It doesn't prevent the chance of simply hydroplaning into a telephone pole. And boy did we have ice.
Our sidewalk out front is brick pavers. I've learned that the brick does not heat up in the day's sun and help melt snow and ice quite like cement does. Barb and I have both attacked our sidewalk with ice melt and various shovels. But it's been tough.
This is the time of year that I officially become tired of winter and start really thinking towards Spring. Enough is enough, I think to myself. I want to feel the breeze blow through open windows and across the house. I want to see the Earth come back to life, the trees budding. I want to see Freckles visiting with squirrels on the deck through the screen door.
But I shouldn't rush time. It will be here soon enough. In the meantime I need to wake up and take advantage of every day. I've got plenty on my plate.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Valentine's Day All Year Long
As I was cleaning out boxes of old this and thats I came across some Valentine's Day cards that probably dated back to about second grade.
You know how it went, everyone decorated a Valentine's "Mail Box" out of a paper bag and hung it from the top edge of their desk. And then the cards dropped in. Lisa who liked John convinced Sally to sneak over and drop in a special card, maybe with a candy heart attached, just to John's embarassment.
Well, amongst the old Valentine's I found a card from "Barbara" saying it would be "neat" if I'd be her Valentine, and it had a football player with a black eye on it in the Heisman pose. I don't remember a Barbara in elementary school. But I do happen to know a Barbara very well right now.
I showed the card to Barb and she claimed it. Oh, if only we really had met in second grade.
A card really can't extend my true feelings for Barb. She's my right arm, my everything, a perfect match, a strength for all my weaknesses.
Chocolate can't express my feelings, nor flowers, not even a night-out to eat.
The only way I can truly say it would be "neat" if you'd be my Valentine Barb is to say it everyday, all year.
It would be neat if you'd be my Valentine!
You know how it went, everyone decorated a Valentine's "Mail Box" out of a paper bag and hung it from the top edge of their desk. And then the cards dropped in. Lisa who liked John convinced Sally to sneak over and drop in a special card, maybe with a candy heart attached, just to John's embarassment.
Well, amongst the old Valentine's I found a card from "Barbara" saying it would be "neat" if I'd be her Valentine, and it had a football player with a black eye on it in the Heisman pose. I don't remember a Barbara in elementary school. But I do happen to know a Barbara very well right now.
I showed the card to Barb and she claimed it. Oh, if only we really had met in second grade.
A card really can't extend my true feelings for Barb. She's my right arm, my everything, a perfect match, a strength for all my weaknesses.
Chocolate can't express my feelings, nor flowers, not even a night-out to eat.
The only way I can truly say it would be "neat" if you'd be my Valentine Barb is to say it everyday, all year.
It would be neat if you'd be my Valentine!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wild Weather
Well it Wednesday, February 13th, and the weather outside is icy and wet and miserable. James and I were going to go to the grocery store today, but we feel that we can wait at least one more day.
On a different note, I think Jim has somewhat gotten the itch to go back into business for himself on a therapeutic basis. There are many reasons for the good that may come out of doing this. I will assist him in any way that I can and possibly learn more of how he does what he does in the graphic arts. Another thing that may be simplified are health insurance issues with the differences between group and individual. I will always have questions in regards to why things with insurance are handled the way that they are. There is certainly alot of unfairness for the ordinary person in regards to that subject.
I won't want Jim to over-do the work load and I don't feel that he will allow himself to. But things right now are just in the discussion stage.
On a different note, I think Jim has somewhat gotten the itch to go back into business for himself on a therapeutic basis. There are many reasons for the good that may come out of doing this. I will assist him in any way that I can and possibly learn more of how he does what he does in the graphic arts. Another thing that may be simplified are health insurance issues with the differences between group and individual. I will always have questions in regards to why things with insurance are handled the way that they are. There is certainly alot of unfairness for the ordinary person in regards to that subject.
I won't want Jim to over-do the work load and I don't feel that he will allow himself to. But things right now are just in the discussion stage.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Higher Education
A few years ago I got into a conversation with some professors from Elizabethtown College over a pint of Guinness in the Elizabethtown Inn. The subject, interestingly enough, was the cost of college. The professors were asking of themselves and each other if they were worth the tremendous expense students pay.
Elizabethtown College is a small, private school, and is very expensive. We're fortunate to have several colleges very similar to Elizabethtown in this area, and they're all small, very well-respected, and very expensive. They all do add a lot to the local cultures and economies.
The professors, through intense debate, concluded that the cost of higher education made it a luxury, not a necessity.
Could someone attend a school that cost much, much, much less and still achieve success? Of course.
Could someone simply skip college and still achieve success? Of course.
But it's kind of like deciding what car to drive. A VW Bug is going to get me there. And so is a Porsche 911 Sportster.
There is a lot about attending college that I think helps broaden perspectives greatly. And I think that is good, a good luxury. Philosophy may not give you a direct lesson in how to be a success in business, but it will make you think of larger aspects involved in being a success in business.
College brings together faces from many places exposing a student to new ideas, new concepts, new music, new approaches. And I think that is good, a good luxury.
But there are some drawbacks too.
I'm afraid whoever built the first dormitory just didn't think it through. A couple hundred 18-year olds living away from home for the first time all in the same building????
Jeesh.
I lasted one semester in the dorm and then moved off campus. Non-stop noise, non-stop hi-jinx, non-stop practical jokes and general hysteria, it was complete insanity.
During my brother's first day at Virginia Tech someone tossed a TV from a fourth story dorm room window.
During my first week someone on my hall introduced himself as "Nude Man," and he made occasional runs across campus in a red cape, a mask, and bikini briefs.
I made sure to stay friendly, yet somewhat distant from everyone. It increased my chances of not getting "pennied" into my room. Someone learned that if you jammed about four stacked pennies between a door and a doorway you could completely lock someone into their door room. And after locked in all kinds of fun things could be blown under the door with a hair dryer - like baby powder.
I successfully escaped being the victim to any of that. It helps to be 6'4" and have a good serious expression.
Now I ask you...is the college experience a necessity or a luxury?
It's a luxury. But one well worth having.
Elizabethtown College is a small, private school, and is very expensive. We're fortunate to have several colleges very similar to Elizabethtown in this area, and they're all small, very well-respected, and very expensive. They all do add a lot to the local cultures and economies.
The professors, through intense debate, concluded that the cost of higher education made it a luxury, not a necessity.
Could someone attend a school that cost much, much, much less and still achieve success? Of course.
Could someone simply skip college and still achieve success? Of course.
But it's kind of like deciding what car to drive. A VW Bug is going to get me there. And so is a Porsche 911 Sportster.
There is a lot about attending college that I think helps broaden perspectives greatly. And I think that is good, a good luxury. Philosophy may not give you a direct lesson in how to be a success in business, but it will make you think of larger aspects involved in being a success in business.
College brings together faces from many places exposing a student to new ideas, new concepts, new music, new approaches. And I think that is good, a good luxury.
But there are some drawbacks too.
I'm afraid whoever built the first dormitory just didn't think it through. A couple hundred 18-year olds living away from home for the first time all in the same building????
Jeesh.
I lasted one semester in the dorm and then moved off campus. Non-stop noise, non-stop hi-jinx, non-stop practical jokes and general hysteria, it was complete insanity.
During my brother's first day at Virginia Tech someone tossed a TV from a fourth story dorm room window.
During my first week someone on my hall introduced himself as "Nude Man," and he made occasional runs across campus in a red cape, a mask, and bikini briefs.
I made sure to stay friendly, yet somewhat distant from everyone. It increased my chances of not getting "pennied" into my room. Someone learned that if you jammed about four stacked pennies between a door and a doorway you could completely lock someone into their door room. And after locked in all kinds of fun things could be blown under the door with a hair dryer - like baby powder.
I successfully escaped being the victim to any of that. It helps to be 6'4" and have a good serious expression.
Now I ask you...is the college experience a necessity or a luxury?
It's a luxury. But one well worth having.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Brrrrrrr
It's 9-degrees this morning. Now that's just not fair.
The winds yesterday were the strongest I've seen yet here in Marietta. I can only imagine how strong they were up on the hill at my parents' house. I hope they made out alright.
Here the winds knocked a section of fence over, smashing our one Azalea bush. The wind bent the fence right over until it snapped, cement footer pulling out and all. The fence is the neighbor's and it has toppled one windy day before. But this time the end section snapped right off.
I don't have to leave the house today. And I'm going to be working hard to find only excuses to stay in, here in the warmth.
I've never liked the cold. I've been asked to join the local Polar Bears Club on their New Year's Day dip into local frigid waters. I laughed and I laughed and I laughed. Actually I have great respect for such insanity. But for me to do that? LOL You've got to be kidding.
The cold makes everything for me just a little bit harder, taking out the trash, running errands. I'd choose mowing the lawn over shoveling snow any day of the week.
But we've been fortunate on the snow this year, and have gotten very little. No complaints here. I still keep waiting for the big one though. You just know it's coming.
A bunch of schools went on a two-hour delay this morning because of the cold. I don't remember school ever being delayed because of cold. I don't know whether to think we're pampering our kids too much, or whether we're finally getting smarter.
If you're out there in Pennsylvania today, stay inside and stay warm.
If you're out there in Florida today, we're green with jealousy and wish you would stop smirking like that!
The winds yesterday were the strongest I've seen yet here in Marietta. I can only imagine how strong they were up on the hill at my parents' house. I hope they made out alright.
Here the winds knocked a section of fence over, smashing our one Azalea bush. The wind bent the fence right over until it snapped, cement footer pulling out and all. The fence is the neighbor's and it has toppled one windy day before. But this time the end section snapped right off.
I don't have to leave the house today. And I'm going to be working hard to find only excuses to stay in, here in the warmth.
I've never liked the cold. I've been asked to join the local Polar Bears Club on their New Year's Day dip into local frigid waters. I laughed and I laughed and I laughed. Actually I have great respect for such insanity. But for me to do that? LOL You've got to be kidding.
The cold makes everything for me just a little bit harder, taking out the trash, running errands. I'd choose mowing the lawn over shoveling snow any day of the week.
But we've been fortunate on the snow this year, and have gotten very little. No complaints here. I still keep waiting for the big one though. You just know it's coming.
A bunch of schools went on a two-hour delay this morning because of the cold. I don't remember school ever being delayed because of cold. I don't know whether to think we're pampering our kids too much, or whether we're finally getting smarter.
If you're out there in Pennsylvania today, stay inside and stay warm.
If you're out there in Florida today, we're green with jealousy and wish you would stop smirking like that!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
The Nature of Things
It's easy to get caught up in all things human. Our jobs, our cars, our homes, our I-Pods, our cell phones, our PlayStations, we make quite a dent on our Earth and it's easy to get consumed by all that we create around us.
But it doesn't take much more than a morning drive on an isolated country road to remind us that there is something much bigger at work, bigger than all the human things we most often fill up our attention on.
It's a big part of the reason that I've always been drawn to the beach. The ocean is so immense, so mysterious, so monumental. It can pick us up like it picks up a grain of sand and toss us about. It's humbling.
We think we're pretty special, pretty important. In the big picture, we're a grain of sand.
Getting closer to nature, has always helped put things in perspective for me, to not forget the big picture and to not get consumed in my own self, which is much easier said than done.
That's why I like living one block from the Susquehanna River. It's not as mighty as the ocean. But it can still make a man feel very small - humble. It's there for me as a constant reminder.
When I was riding my bike everyday, the rides almost always included a stop at the boat launch where I could stop for a moment and just be reminded of the bigger scheme of life beyond my own. I would see a lot more on a bike, than I would ever see in a car.
Sometimes it's nice to slow down and take notice to the bigger picture, beyond that which we've made, beyond McDonald's, beyond sports, beyond a bikini wax.
But it doesn't take much more than a morning drive on an isolated country road to remind us that there is something much bigger at work, bigger than all the human things we most often fill up our attention on.
It's a big part of the reason that I've always been drawn to the beach. The ocean is so immense, so mysterious, so monumental. It can pick us up like it picks up a grain of sand and toss us about. It's humbling.
We think we're pretty special, pretty important. In the big picture, we're a grain of sand.
Getting closer to nature, has always helped put things in perspective for me, to not forget the big picture and to not get consumed in my own self, which is much easier said than done.
That's why I like living one block from the Susquehanna River. It's not as mighty as the ocean. But it can still make a man feel very small - humble. It's there for me as a constant reminder.
When I was riding my bike everyday, the rides almost always included a stop at the boat launch where I could stop for a moment and just be reminded of the bigger scheme of life beyond my own. I would see a lot more on a bike, than I would ever see in a car.
Sometimes it's nice to slow down and take notice to the bigger picture, beyond that which we've made, beyond McDonald's, beyond sports, beyond a bikini wax.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
The Month to Look at the Big Picture
Back in June, after being run over by the radiation truck, people would ask me if I thought I might get back to my business someday.
My business was the result of 20-years of hardwork and dreams. It's what I always wanted to do, what I always intended to do. It was taking off, doing well, work was keeping my desk consistently full. Then cancer came to town.
I'm kind of a strange commodity in the publishing field, whereas I have a diverse grouping of experiences, print design, web design, photography, writing, illustration. The most important thing I ever learned as an artist was to master my craft not just creatively, but technically, and I followed that philosophy completely.
I felt my craft was really beginning to reach a point where it was worthy to stand-up to any others in my field. I had designed several ads for national magazines, including Sports Illustrated. I can do so much with a photo it would leave you watching with your jaw dropped wide open.
I was getting to the point with the business where I was considering adding Barb to the scheme, billing, books, collections, sales, customer service - everything to do with managing the operations of the business to free me up to work, work, work.
I was starting to think about maybe hiring a database/web programming/network super guru person to free me up from all the over-the-top technical aspects necessary for today's modern design methods.
Then I thought ahead to a next stage, junior print and web designers, additional photographers - delivering top-level product, at very reasonable prices.
I never committed to a long-term plan. I'm a terrible boss. I didn't really want employees. But employees would allow me to focus solely each day on the design work and artwork itself. Tough decisions, but decisions I didn't have to make.
There were melancholy moments in ending my business. It was, as I said, the result of a lifetime dream. But the severity of my situation allowed me to easily accept the decision. It was as obvious of a choice, as obvious can be. Sometimes, somethings are necessary, even choosing to stop a longtime dream. And I accepted it well. It was done.
But I really still didn't know exactly how to answer the question, "Do you think you'll get back to it? Open the business again?"
I knew I had plenty of time to think it over. I was in for a long, difficult rehab from treatments. But there was still that question.
In closing the business we had to reconstruct our personal budgets and overall 2007 gameplans. In working our budget a group of financial markers all landed in February of 2008. So I started to tell people, I'm going to step back and take a look at things again in February.
In a lot of ways I really never thought that re-opening the business was a very viable option. I know cancer is not my fault, but I still felt like I let my clients down. And I never wanted to do that again.
Yet, on the other side I realize that we can all meet our maker at any moment, yet we still go out everyday and practice our craft or trade without fear and with confidence.
I figured that I could simply reinvent myself, work on more fine illustration and photography. Or maybe I could find a niche' where I could give back, maybe to other cancer patients, maybe to kids as a soccer coach.
It's February. I still don't know.
Some of our financial markers for the year are still coming together, including of course tax filings for the past year. Towards the end of February the pharmaceutical company will reanalyze my chemo payments for the year. I could end up owing anywhere between $0 and $4800 a month. I just learned my other two monthly prescription drugs are $500 and $250 a month, which will quickly fill up my Aetna imposed $2500 max per year.
So...lots of decisions to be made. Lots of numbers to be crunched in February, lots of options to be explored.
And four old clients in the past week have come out of the blue in the past week to ask me if I might get back to the business.
We'll see how it all comes together.
My business was the result of 20-years of hardwork and dreams. It's what I always wanted to do, what I always intended to do. It was taking off, doing well, work was keeping my desk consistently full. Then cancer came to town.
I'm kind of a strange commodity in the publishing field, whereas I have a diverse grouping of experiences, print design, web design, photography, writing, illustration. The most important thing I ever learned as an artist was to master my craft not just creatively, but technically, and I followed that philosophy completely.
I felt my craft was really beginning to reach a point where it was worthy to stand-up to any others in my field. I had designed several ads for national magazines, including Sports Illustrated. I can do so much with a photo it would leave you watching with your jaw dropped wide open.
I was getting to the point with the business where I was considering adding Barb to the scheme, billing, books, collections, sales, customer service - everything to do with managing the operations of the business to free me up to work, work, work.
I was starting to think about maybe hiring a database/web programming/network super guru person to free me up from all the over-the-top technical aspects necessary for today's modern design methods.
Then I thought ahead to a next stage, junior print and web designers, additional photographers - delivering top-level product, at very reasonable prices.
I never committed to a long-term plan. I'm a terrible boss. I didn't really want employees. But employees would allow me to focus solely each day on the design work and artwork itself. Tough decisions, but decisions I didn't have to make.
There were melancholy moments in ending my business. It was, as I said, the result of a lifetime dream. But the severity of my situation allowed me to easily accept the decision. It was as obvious of a choice, as obvious can be. Sometimes, somethings are necessary, even choosing to stop a longtime dream. And I accepted it well. It was done.
But I really still didn't know exactly how to answer the question, "Do you think you'll get back to it? Open the business again?"
I knew I had plenty of time to think it over. I was in for a long, difficult rehab from treatments. But there was still that question.
In closing the business we had to reconstruct our personal budgets and overall 2007 gameplans. In working our budget a group of financial markers all landed in February of 2008. So I started to tell people, I'm going to step back and take a look at things again in February.
In a lot of ways I really never thought that re-opening the business was a very viable option. I know cancer is not my fault, but I still felt like I let my clients down. And I never wanted to do that again.
Yet, on the other side I realize that we can all meet our maker at any moment, yet we still go out everyday and practice our craft or trade without fear and with confidence.
I figured that I could simply reinvent myself, work on more fine illustration and photography. Or maybe I could find a niche' where I could give back, maybe to other cancer patients, maybe to kids as a soccer coach.
It's February. I still don't know.
Some of our financial markers for the year are still coming together, including of course tax filings for the past year. Towards the end of February the pharmaceutical company will reanalyze my chemo payments for the year. I could end up owing anywhere between $0 and $4800 a month. I just learned my other two monthly prescription drugs are $500 and $250 a month, which will quickly fill up my Aetna imposed $2500 max per year.
So...lots of decisions to be made. Lots of numbers to be crunched in February, lots of options to be explored.
And four old clients in the past week have come out of the blue in the past week to ask me if I might get back to the business.
We'll see how it all comes together.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Beer
Now I have never been a big drinker, well except in college where it was a mandatory part of the culture.
Actually I'm a bit of a beer snob. It's not like I haven't had my bottles of Budweiser in my day. Sometimes when the pub is full it's just best to keep it simple. The bartender sees my head over the crowd, remembers what I want, and reaches one right over to me.
But give me a draft of Guinness, served at room temperature as it's meant to be - now that's beer. I guess if I have a beer it's more about the taste then the after effects.
Monday night this week, the night before Barb's birthday, we went out to Bube's Brewery in Mt. Joy with Bill, Susan, Charlie and Alyssa. We just went to the Bottling Works, one of three restaurants at Bube's (pronounced "boobies"). Bube's is nothing if not always unique, and it's open on Mondays.
As we settled in, it struck me that I was sitting likely very close to a Guinness draft.
Now I haven't had a beer in I don't know how long. I think it's been about a year. I asked Barb how long it's been and she got that faraway thinking look in her eye. "It's been a really long time," she said.
The waitress came around for our drink order, coffee, Sprite, coffee . . .
"Do you have raspberry iced tea?" asked Alyssa.
"No."
"Any kind of flavored iced tea?"
"No."
(grooooaaaaaaannnnnn) "I'll take Pepsi or Coke whatever you have."
It was my turn now. Should I do it?
"Do you still have Guiness on tap?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I'll take a pint of Guinness please."
Well it came. In all it's dark foamy goodness there it was. Like a lava lamp of beer perfection it glowed before me.
I glanced around.
Susan, Barb's Mom, was giving me a wide-eyed, surprised expression. Barb reserved a quiet expression of concern. Darn family, they always seem to know what's best.
Well it was just one pint. And it wasn't like I was going to sit there yelling "Fill 'er up!" Actually I knew going into this venture that there was a very strong chance that I wouldn't finish this pint. I picked up the pint with a goal of getting halfway.
I sipped the first sip of frothy goodness, then wiped off the obligatory moustache.
(sigh) It was good. It was too cold. I would expect better from Bube's, but I am a beer snob. And it was good afterall. "Quit complaining," I told myself, "you have a pint of Guinness in front of you."
Barb asked me how my Guinness was. She wanted to make sure that it didn't instantly start a war in my stomach. And the stomach was fine, with the Guinness, with the tenderloin tips, with the onion rings (not exactly my regular soft chicken meal).
I drank the pint slow, not finishing until just before we were ready to leave.
Later the Guinness took it out on my body, bending me over with cramps and starting a battle of wills through my digestive system. There's been much worse. But the Guinness was probably not one of my best ideas.
But there are some things, sometimes, on some occasions, even though you know it's probably not in your best interest, you just feel overwhelmed with interest to try.
Like a hot italian sausage sandwich covered in sauce with onions and peppers.
(drooling)
Oops. Sorry.
There always seems to be ironies I find with living with cancer, that are so peculiar you just have to laugh.
All my life I've appreciated things like a good pint of Guinness. I am part Irish afterall. But Guinness on draft is a difficult thing to find. It takes a special tap system, and slows down a pub since it taps incredibly slow like molasses. All my life finding an establishment with Guinness on tap was like finding a diamond in the rough.
Now, with cancer, I live within walking distance of two historic pubs, great pubs, neighborhood pubs where people of all ages gather. And they both have Guinness on tap.
And they serve it at room temperature.
Maybe I'll have another pint on my birthday.
Actually I'm a bit of a beer snob. It's not like I haven't had my bottles of Budweiser in my day. Sometimes when the pub is full it's just best to keep it simple. The bartender sees my head over the crowd, remembers what I want, and reaches one right over to me.
But give me a draft of Guinness, served at room temperature as it's meant to be - now that's beer. I guess if I have a beer it's more about the taste then the after effects.
Monday night this week, the night before Barb's birthday, we went out to Bube's Brewery in Mt. Joy with Bill, Susan, Charlie and Alyssa. We just went to the Bottling Works, one of three restaurants at Bube's (pronounced "boobies"). Bube's is nothing if not always unique, and it's open on Mondays.
As we settled in, it struck me that I was sitting likely very close to a Guinness draft.
Now I haven't had a beer in I don't know how long. I think it's been about a year. I asked Barb how long it's been and she got that faraway thinking look in her eye. "It's been a really long time," she said.
The waitress came around for our drink order, coffee, Sprite, coffee . . .
"Do you have raspberry iced tea?" asked Alyssa.
"No."
"Any kind of flavored iced tea?"
"No."
(grooooaaaaaaannnnnn) "I'll take Pepsi or Coke whatever you have."
It was my turn now. Should I do it?
"Do you still have Guiness on tap?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I'll take a pint of Guinness please."
Well it came. In all it's dark foamy goodness there it was. Like a lava lamp of beer perfection it glowed before me.
I glanced around.
Susan, Barb's Mom, was giving me a wide-eyed, surprised expression. Barb reserved a quiet expression of concern. Darn family, they always seem to know what's best.
Well it was just one pint. And it wasn't like I was going to sit there yelling "Fill 'er up!" Actually I knew going into this venture that there was a very strong chance that I wouldn't finish this pint. I picked up the pint with a goal of getting halfway.
I sipped the first sip of frothy goodness, then wiped off the obligatory moustache.
(sigh) It was good. It was too cold. I would expect better from Bube's, but I am a beer snob. And it was good afterall. "Quit complaining," I told myself, "you have a pint of Guinness in front of you."
Barb asked me how my Guinness was. She wanted to make sure that it didn't instantly start a war in my stomach. And the stomach was fine, with the Guinness, with the tenderloin tips, with the onion rings (not exactly my regular soft chicken meal).
I drank the pint slow, not finishing until just before we were ready to leave.
Later the Guinness took it out on my body, bending me over with cramps and starting a battle of wills through my digestive system. There's been much worse. But the Guinness was probably not one of my best ideas.
But there are some things, sometimes, on some occasions, even though you know it's probably not in your best interest, you just feel overwhelmed with interest to try.
Like a hot italian sausage sandwich covered in sauce with onions and peppers.
(drooling)
Oops. Sorry.
There always seems to be ironies I find with living with cancer, that are so peculiar you just have to laugh.
All my life I've appreciated things like a good pint of Guinness. I am part Irish afterall. But Guinness on draft is a difficult thing to find. It takes a special tap system, and slows down a pub since it taps incredibly slow like molasses. All my life finding an establishment with Guinness on tap was like finding a diamond in the rough.
Now, with cancer, I live within walking distance of two historic pubs, great pubs, neighborhood pubs where people of all ages gather. And they both have Guinness on tap.
And they serve it at room temperature.
Maybe I'll have another pint on my birthday.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Tropical February
We set new record high temperatures in Pennsylvania yesterday with temps in the 60s. It took me by surprise to open the backdoor and not be hit by stiff cold air, slapping me in the face.
Sure it was rainy and damp all day long. But in the 60s? In Pennsylvania in February? I'll take it!
It will be back down into the 40s today and 30s by the weekend. We can take that. Anything above the freezing mark we'll manage through.
The kids will be stopping over for their weekly Thursday dinner, and Barb's got some Marietta Fried Chicken planned. I look forward to it, and every meal, as I keeping trying to pile on the food, and get the weight heading in the upward direction.
My mission to complete renovations on This Old House continue, and I'll need to talk to contractors today about a skylight, a rubber roof, a refurbished deck or two, a paver patio and a paved parking area. That should keep me out of trouble.
And we'll continue decorating today after the office move, as we keep in mind preparations for Easter in Marietta. We're looking forward to seeing everyone around a giant Groff's ham.
Sure it was rainy and damp all day long. But in the 60s? In Pennsylvania in February? I'll take it!
It will be back down into the 40s today and 30s by the weekend. We can take that. Anything above the freezing mark we'll manage through.
The kids will be stopping over for their weekly Thursday dinner, and Barb's got some Marietta Fried Chicken planned. I look forward to it, and every meal, as I keeping trying to pile on the food, and get the weight heading in the upward direction.
My mission to complete renovations on This Old House continue, and I'll need to talk to contractors today about a skylight, a rubber roof, a refurbished deck or two, a paver patio and a paved parking area. That should keep me out of trouble.
And we'll continue decorating today after the office move, as we keep in mind preparations for Easter in Marietta. We're looking forward to seeing everyone around a giant Groff's ham.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Gotta' Cook If You Want to Eat
When I left for college I could probably make a peanut butter sandwich. Hmmm. Yeah, I think that's all, a peanut butter sandwich.
I still remember "Wolfie" at the soccer house teaching me how to boil pasta during my freshman year of college. I knew nothing about cooking beyond heat it in the oven at this temperature for this long.
But soon it dawned on me that the only assurance of eating well was learning how to cook. And I've always loved to eat well.
And eating well, to me, doesn't mean surf and turf every night. It's just good food that you crave to have again, and again.
And cook I have, stealing some favorites from Mom, figuring out dishes I've had in restaurants, studying food, the arts and sciences of cooking and eating. And I've still got a way to go. But I learned to feed myself, and eat well.
Sounds like a pretty simple thing, and it is. But many people seem so surprised that - me - being a man and all, would teach himself to cook. But 'ya gotta' cook if you wanna' eat.
I still remember "Wolfie" at the soccer house teaching me how to boil pasta during my freshman year of college. I knew nothing about cooking beyond heat it in the oven at this temperature for this long.
But soon it dawned on me that the only assurance of eating well was learning how to cook. And I've always loved to eat well.
And eating well, to me, doesn't mean surf and turf every night. It's just good food that you crave to have again, and again.
And cook I have, stealing some favorites from Mom, figuring out dishes I've had in restaurants, studying food, the arts and sciences of cooking and eating. And I've still got a way to go. But I learned to feed myself, and eat well.
Sounds like a pretty simple thing, and it is. But many people seem so surprised that - me - being a man and all, would teach himself to cook. But 'ya gotta' cook if you wanna' eat.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Happy Birthday Barbie!
They don't call it Big Tuesday for nothing. It's a national holiday for us. Well, not national, more of a local holiday. Well, local as in just in this house.
It's Barb's birthday. She's 43, and acting all full-of-herself because she is the same age as me for a couple of months. lol
Happy Birthday Barb! I'd be lost without you, the sweetest, kindest, most loving and understanding person I've ever known.
Barb often jokes, "What would you do without me?"
"Lay in the gutter out front and cry," I answer.
Barb started the day with a call from Mom who sang "Happy Birthday to You."
I dropped Barb off with Alyssa this morning for some pampering at Alyssa's new business venture. Then they were hanging out together for a bit, possible shopping in the plans. I'll get her back later today and then I'm cooking her a birthday dinner tonight - filet with red wine pan sauce, twice-baked potatoes, and fresh brussel sprouts (her favorite). Right now my favorite restaurant is in our kitchen.
It's Barb's birthday. She's 43, and acting all full-of-herself because she is the same age as me for a couple of months. lol
Happy Birthday Barb! I'd be lost without you, the sweetest, kindest, most loving and understanding person I've ever known.
Barb often jokes, "What would you do without me?"
"Lay in the gutter out front and cry," I answer.
Barb started the day with a call from Mom who sang "Happy Birthday to You."
I dropped Barb off with Alyssa this morning for some pampering at Alyssa's new business venture. Then they were hanging out together for a bit, possible shopping in the plans. I'll get her back later today and then I'm cooking her a birthday dinner tonight - filet with red wine pan sauce, twice-baked potatoes, and fresh brussel sprouts (her favorite). Right now my favorite restaurant is in our kitchen.
Monday, February 4, 2008
New Office, New Perspective
For the most part, well almost exclusively, I blog from the laptop computer from the comfort of my easy chair. But with the office renovation closing in on being finished I've decided to blog from the desktop this morning.
The desks are in place. The computers are hooked up, as well as the wireless network. And it's clean. It's uncluttered. It's bright, shiny like brand new.
The skylight was great for the photography studio. But it's pretty darn nice for an office too, always flooding in plenty of light, even on a morning when the sun is covered by clouds. I'll get a set of blinds for the skylight eventually for when the glare is too much to take.
Plus I have a nice view now out the back and across the backyard.
So far it's worked out very, very well. And it's forced us to clean-up and organize ourselves for 2008.
It's off to a dermatologist today to have my skin checked out, just normal stuff for a cancer patient on chemo. The doctor could only first fit me into his schedule in April. But after my doctor called and said, "cancer patient," the dermatologist called me back and said, "How about Monday?"
Sometimes cancer does open some doors, or at least alert a sense of urgency it seems.
Not much excitement, but that's a Monday for 'ya. And I'm sure everyone is hungover from the Super Bowl.
The desks are in place. The computers are hooked up, as well as the wireless network. And it's clean. It's uncluttered. It's bright, shiny like brand new.
The skylight was great for the photography studio. But it's pretty darn nice for an office too, always flooding in plenty of light, even on a morning when the sun is covered by clouds. I'll get a set of blinds for the skylight eventually for when the glare is too much to take.
Plus I have a nice view now out the back and across the backyard.
So far it's worked out very, very well. And it's forced us to clean-up and organize ourselves for 2008.
It's off to a dermatologist today to have my skin checked out, just normal stuff for a cancer patient on chemo. The doctor could only first fit me into his schedule in April. But after my doctor called and said, "cancer patient," the dermatologist called me back and said, "How about Monday?"
Sometimes cancer does open some doors, or at least alert a sense of urgency it seems.
Not much excitement, but that's a Monday for 'ya. And I'm sure everyone is hungover from the Super Bowl.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Strength and Sunshine
There's nothing better to brighten a February morning than the smell of banana bread coming from the kitchen. Yep, I'm still eating strong, at least a bit more in quantity than just a week ago. The appetite in general has been very healthy.
And it seems Pennsylvania's in for some February warming with temps in the low 50s, and plenty of sunshine. This was the first year in 75-years that it did not snow in New York City in January.
Part of me thinks, "We're going to make it. We're going to make it. All the way through Winter with barely any snow!"
And then part of me thinks, "It's just saving up for one huge gigantic dumping of snow. Just wait. It's coming."
The constant battle of the optimistic and cynical.
The former photo studio is coming together as our new office. Desks are in place. And it's a great excuse to clean out old drawers, and cabinets, and files. And sorting through old files brings out little treasures like a picture of Muk and Rhea on their wedding day, and a picture of Alyssa and Barb many years ago.
Most things make the trash though. Things I thought were important three-years ago - like privacy notices sent to me by companies, published intentionally in a tiny unreadable format.
"Ten more minutes," Barb says walking by.
That's ten more minutes until banana bread. Oooooo I can't take it. It smells really good.
"Well then it needs 20 minutes to cool," Barb adds.
Oh that's torture. I need chunk of cantalope to hold me over.
And it seems Pennsylvania's in for some February warming with temps in the low 50s, and plenty of sunshine. This was the first year in 75-years that it did not snow in New York City in January.
Part of me thinks, "We're going to make it. We're going to make it. All the way through Winter with barely any snow!"
And then part of me thinks, "It's just saving up for one huge gigantic dumping of snow. Just wait. It's coming."
The constant battle of the optimistic and cynical.
The former photo studio is coming together as our new office. Desks are in place. And it's a great excuse to clean out old drawers, and cabinets, and files. And sorting through old files brings out little treasures like a picture of Muk and Rhea on their wedding day, and a picture of Alyssa and Barb many years ago.
Most things make the trash though. Things I thought were important three-years ago - like privacy notices sent to me by companies, published intentionally in a tiny unreadable format.
"Ten more minutes," Barb says walking by.
That's ten more minutes until banana bread. Oooooo I can't take it. It smells really good.
"Well then it needs 20 minutes to cool," Barb adds.
Oh that's torture. I need chunk of cantalope to hold me over.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
It's Fat Albert
My appetite right now is really unbelievable. Ever since I started taking the female hormone Megistrol again my eating has been up, without any ill side-effects. Plus I think the female hormone is making more sensitive - well - ok, maybe not.
Barb made her infamous chicken pie last night, which is a pretty soft, safe dish for me. But I tore through a full plate and went back for seconds. Before the female hormone I'd gently pick through a smaller portion and be happy with the accomplishment. But now I am going for some weight.
The past couple of days I've caught myself during the day thinking about food, having little cravings (the old cheese steak from the Twin Kiss craving again).
Just once, just for one week, I want to see the weight go up instead of stay the same, or creep down. Then we'll go for the next week from there, and then the next.
Oops, gotta' run, I have a hot ham and cheese sandwich on a kaiser roll and a slice of cantalope with my name on it.
Barb made her infamous chicken pie last night, which is a pretty soft, safe dish for me. But I tore through a full plate and went back for seconds. Before the female hormone I'd gently pick through a smaller portion and be happy with the accomplishment. But now I am going for some weight.
The past couple of days I've caught myself during the day thinking about food, having little cravings (the old cheese steak from the Twin Kiss craving again).
Just once, just for one week, I want to see the weight go up instead of stay the same, or creep down. Then we'll go for the next week from there, and then the next.
Oops, gotta' run, I have a hot ham and cheese sandwich on a kaiser roll and a slice of cantalope with my name on it.
Friday, February 1, 2008
It's All Perspective
A freight train rolls along the Susquehanna River one block away and lets loose a slow, deliberate horn blast as the rolling sounds of its wheels ease through Marietta.
I like the trains. Now, in Winter, with all the windows tightly closed the train's horn is somewhat muted. In deep summer with all the windows open wide the horn blasts through the house like a bull.
I grew up on 7-acres and slept each night to the sound of complete silence.
When I moved to Philadelphia I lived between an Amtrack line, a fire station and a police station. It was quite a change to get used to. There was always a screaming something it seemed. I don't think I ever felt I could relax the three-years I lived there.
But to Philadelphia natives I got to know, the silence of 7-acres in Myerstown would drive them absolutely insane.
When I got to Philadelphia I would ask people, "What's that smell?" It was just the smell of the Delaware River.
When I took people from Philadelphia to Myerstown they would say, "What's that smell?" It was just the smell of the manure on the fields.
So it's all a matter of perspective. And as a matter of perspective, we have amongst us quite a few.
Once I took a good friend to a trail that followed a creek which eventually turned into a waterfall, through Pennsylvania woods at their finest. My friend grew up in the city, and had virtually never ventured from the city, especially into open space such as these woods.
He was absolutely terrified. Not unlike some of us would be walking through some parts of some cities.
All a matter of perspective.
When I transferred to Ohio University I called and begged admissions to not put me in a freshman dorm. I was a senior and experiencing the freshman dorm is something no one should have to do more than once.
Everything was arranged and when I arrived in Athens, Ohio I was thrilled and frightened to find myself in a dorm full of graduate students from all around the world. My roomate was from Argentina. I made good friends from Columbia, South Korea, Puerto Rico, France, Cyprus. Gathering together in rooms in the evening it was like living at the United Nations.
We had nothing in common. And that was great.
But wow, at dinner time, the smells of the world cooking all at once, all in one hallway - it wasn't working.
I try to fit in at the country club and the biker bar, all because I want to soak in all the different perspectives. Reaching out to experience and learn more about others helps me to develop, and evolve my own perspective.
I like the trains. Now, in Winter, with all the windows tightly closed the train's horn is somewhat muted. In deep summer with all the windows open wide the horn blasts through the house like a bull.
I grew up on 7-acres and slept each night to the sound of complete silence.
When I moved to Philadelphia I lived between an Amtrack line, a fire station and a police station. It was quite a change to get used to. There was always a screaming something it seemed. I don't think I ever felt I could relax the three-years I lived there.
But to Philadelphia natives I got to know, the silence of 7-acres in Myerstown would drive them absolutely insane.
When I got to Philadelphia I would ask people, "What's that smell?" It was just the smell of the Delaware River.
When I took people from Philadelphia to Myerstown they would say, "What's that smell?" It was just the smell of the manure on the fields.
So it's all a matter of perspective. And as a matter of perspective, we have amongst us quite a few.
Once I took a good friend to a trail that followed a creek which eventually turned into a waterfall, through Pennsylvania woods at their finest. My friend grew up in the city, and had virtually never ventured from the city, especially into open space such as these woods.
He was absolutely terrified. Not unlike some of us would be walking through some parts of some cities.
All a matter of perspective.
When I transferred to Ohio University I called and begged admissions to not put me in a freshman dorm. I was a senior and experiencing the freshman dorm is something no one should have to do more than once.
Everything was arranged and when I arrived in Athens, Ohio I was thrilled and frightened to find myself in a dorm full of graduate students from all around the world. My roomate was from Argentina. I made good friends from Columbia, South Korea, Puerto Rico, France, Cyprus. Gathering together in rooms in the evening it was like living at the United Nations.
We had nothing in common. And that was great.
But wow, at dinner time, the smells of the world cooking all at once, all in one hallway - it wasn't working.
I try to fit in at the country club and the biker bar, all because I want to soak in all the different perspectives. Reaching out to experience and learn more about others helps me to develop, and evolve my own perspective.
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