There is a movie called "Grand Canyon," starring Danny Glover, Steve Martin and Kevin Kline. It's not a great movie. But the basic premise of the movie, the basic story line, is something I can really relate to.
Danny Glover is a tow-truck driver in Los Angeles. Whenever the chaos, commotion, non-stop activity, the traffic, the helicopters overhead - whenever it all becomes just to much to bear, Glover drives out to the Grand Canyon and just stands there and stares at it.
The Grand Canyon helps Glover to remember what life is really about - not all of our little human-made activities - but the big picture. The greatness that God has made all around us. It adjusts the perspective.
It's why I've always loved the ocean. It's why I love living in Marietta.
The ocean in its vastness and power instantly realigns my perspective to the basic essence of our being. And it's why I'm drawn to remote beaches, no clubs, no stores, no boardwalks.
We're about much more than celebrity gossip news, new televisions, even our jobs. We're a part of nature, all that was created with us and around us.
It's a little hard to explain. I guess you either get it or you don't.
Living here in Marietta, whenever I feel bogged down in all the silly things we have surrounded ourselves with, I can just take a walk to the Susquehanna River. And stand there and soak it in.
A lot of Barb's family escapes to Atlantic City when they need to get away from it all. To each there own I guess.
Alyssa and Charlie have a trip planned very soon. They were over last night for dinner and asked if Barb and I would ever be interested in going to Atlantic City with them.
Sorry. Nothing personal. But I'd rather stick hot pokers in my eyes.
To me that's like jumping from the oven to the furnace. When I want to get away, I want to get away. Just give me a nice big chunk of nature, like the Grand Canyon, to soak in and I'll be feeling all warm and fuzzy and relaxed again soon.
I think it's an important concept that is lost on most of us. We easily get caught up in all things we've surrounded ourselves with - slot machines, shopping, what stupid thing Britney Spears has done recently.
Give me the Grand Canyon for a weekend. I'll see you guys when you get back from Atlantic City.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Quick Updates
When I did a couple weeks of half dosage on the chemotherapy I instantly gained eight-pounds and my digestive woes basically went away. On April 29th I went back to full doses and to my surprise the digestive woes did not come back - well until last night.
I spent a couple hours up in the middle of the night last night, settling down the rhino running around through my insides. When the alarm went off at five this morning I stumbled down the stairs and took my chemo, pet Freckles a few times, and made a beeline right back to bed.
Amazingly enough I rarely ever go back to bed after the 5 a.m. chemo. Freckles usually does not allow it. But I escaped Freckles attention this morning and quickly was back to sleep in bed.
It was nice to sleep in, and I did have some hours up in the middle of the night to make up for. But it was quite odd be the second one up in the house - a complete switcheroo.
All of the pains I was having through my right torso have really died down and are barely evident at all anymore. I'm still scheduled for an ultra-sound on Monday to try to discover what caused it all. We'll do more bloodwork too and then take it from there.
I still do want to come up with a routine to give me regular breaks from the full dose of chemotherapy. You know, something like four-weeks of full dosage, followed by a week of half-dosage, something like that. Full dosage just plows me into the ground. Occassional "drug holidays" would mean the world to my overall well-being, as long as the cancer doesn't take the opportunities to spread.
I think the exterminator finally rid us of the tiny, little, odorous household ants.
The roofer has been threatening to come out and check out a few small leaks for the past two weeks. But he hasn't shown up yet. We'll call a couple others today.
We've got a couple things going with Albert Design Studio. It's great to have Barb working the business along with me. And I've made contacts with a young, web programming guru, so I don't have to sloth through all the code anymore. I can focus on design, and the aspects of communications that I'm strongest at. It's ironic that it took all of these health issues to finally allow me to give up some controls. It is the ideal though that I always meant the business to achieve.
It's going to be another beautiful Spring Day. I need to keep myself busy with some kind of basic physical task. It keeps me innvolved and awake, aiding in fighting the fatique from the chemo.
After taking the past month off from exercising and going back on full chemo doses, I'm a 170-pound weekling. I truly need to get back to the exercises and get back on the bike and build up some strength and endurance. I'm OK with Barb always being the beauty and the brains of this operation, but now that she's the brawn too - well I just have to do something about that.
I spent a couple hours up in the middle of the night last night, settling down the rhino running around through my insides. When the alarm went off at five this morning I stumbled down the stairs and took my chemo, pet Freckles a few times, and made a beeline right back to bed.
Amazingly enough I rarely ever go back to bed after the 5 a.m. chemo. Freckles usually does not allow it. But I escaped Freckles attention this morning and quickly was back to sleep in bed.
It was nice to sleep in, and I did have some hours up in the middle of the night to make up for. But it was quite odd be the second one up in the house - a complete switcheroo.
All of the pains I was having through my right torso have really died down and are barely evident at all anymore. I'm still scheduled for an ultra-sound on Monday to try to discover what caused it all. We'll do more bloodwork too and then take it from there.
I still do want to come up with a routine to give me regular breaks from the full dose of chemotherapy. You know, something like four-weeks of full dosage, followed by a week of half-dosage, something like that. Full dosage just plows me into the ground. Occassional "drug holidays" would mean the world to my overall well-being, as long as the cancer doesn't take the opportunities to spread.
I think the exterminator finally rid us of the tiny, little, odorous household ants.
The roofer has been threatening to come out and check out a few small leaks for the past two weeks. But he hasn't shown up yet. We'll call a couple others today.
We've got a couple things going with Albert Design Studio. It's great to have Barb working the business along with me. And I've made contacts with a young, web programming guru, so I don't have to sloth through all the code anymore. I can focus on design, and the aspects of communications that I'm strongest at. It's ironic that it took all of these health issues to finally allow me to give up some controls. It is the ideal though that I always meant the business to achieve.
It's going to be another beautiful Spring Day. I need to keep myself busy with some kind of basic physical task. It keeps me innvolved and awake, aiding in fighting the fatique from the chemo.
After taking the past month off from exercising and going back on full chemo doses, I'm a 170-pound weekling. I truly need to get back to the exercises and get back on the bike and build up some strength and endurance. I'm OK with Barb always being the beauty and the brains of this operation, but now that she's the brawn too - well I just have to do something about that.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Food Snob
I've become a real food snob. After quitting smoking and after the effects of radiation finally wore off, I discovered a very interesting thing - taste buds.
Put three broccoli spears in front of me, one from a can, one frozen, and one fresh, all prepared equally and of exact same size, and I'll tell you which one is which - no problem.
I can taste when the deli across the street needs to clean their grill.
I get upset when I go out to eat and feel like I could have made the dish better.
But all of this has not been the result solely of new found taste buds. My body seems to want food that has the highest nutritional value, which of course is the freshest food available.
My body wants fresh baked bread, not store bought. My body wants fresh potatoes, not Tater Tots. My body wants fresh whole chickens from the butcher shop, not chicken rondelets.
I've become a food snob.
Growing up in the generation I have, eating has often been about Doritos, Tastykakes, and Spaghetti-O's. It was the modern day kitchen, with the onset of the microwave and aluminum foil, not to mention mass production and tv, advertising, and packaging.
It was all always OK with me. I'd have no problem popping a Hot Pocket into the microwave and calling that lunch. Today though, that's not what my appetite, or body in general, wants to see.
So I do the best I can to collect fresh ingredients and cook good meals. We cook everynight, and trade-off everynight = good fresh meals. Even for breakfast and lunch, no cereal or frozen pizzas, I'm having fruit and fresh baked banana bread, and deli sandwiches on fresh baked kaiser rolls.
Yesterday for lunch I had breaded pork chops and scalloped potatoes from the deli. I finished it all. But, by the way, the scalloped potatoes came from a bucket, and the deli does have to clean their grill.
I'm such a food snob.
Put three broccoli spears in front of me, one from a can, one frozen, and one fresh, all prepared equally and of exact same size, and I'll tell you which one is which - no problem.
I can taste when the deli across the street needs to clean their grill.
I get upset when I go out to eat and feel like I could have made the dish better.
But all of this has not been the result solely of new found taste buds. My body seems to want food that has the highest nutritional value, which of course is the freshest food available.
My body wants fresh baked bread, not store bought. My body wants fresh potatoes, not Tater Tots. My body wants fresh whole chickens from the butcher shop, not chicken rondelets.
I've become a food snob.
Growing up in the generation I have, eating has often been about Doritos, Tastykakes, and Spaghetti-O's. It was the modern day kitchen, with the onset of the microwave and aluminum foil, not to mention mass production and tv, advertising, and packaging.
It was all always OK with me. I'd have no problem popping a Hot Pocket into the microwave and calling that lunch. Today though, that's not what my appetite, or body in general, wants to see.
So I do the best I can to collect fresh ingredients and cook good meals. We cook everynight, and trade-off everynight = good fresh meals. Even for breakfast and lunch, no cereal or frozen pizzas, I'm having fruit and fresh baked banana bread, and deli sandwiches on fresh baked kaiser rolls.
Yesterday for lunch I had breaded pork chops and scalloped potatoes from the deli. I finished it all. But, by the way, the scalloped potatoes came from a bucket, and the deli does have to clean their grill.
I'm such a food snob.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
New Week, New Attitude
After licking my wounds for the past month I'm feeling better and eager to get back to a little more exercise and activity.
I have an ultra-sound scheduled for Monday to try to determine what has been going on in my right abdomen that has caused me so much pain. But in all honesty the pain has continued to diminish across the past few days and I've been feeling better and better.
I still have a swollen lymph node on the back of my neck, but it changes size quite dramatically. Typically it's so small in the morning that you can barely find it. But by day's end it's fairly pronounced again.
The doc may stick a needle in the node to run some pathology on its contents. But considering it's changing size so dramatically it's skeptical it's cancer, but more of a reaction to something else going on.
I've been staying away from a lot of physical stuff to prevent aggrevating whatever has been causing me pain. But the pain has improved enough that I want to at the very least get back to some light exercises.
I've got a very busy week with plenty to do from Albert Design Studio work to installing a rain barrel along the back side of the house. Taking things methodically and slowly I can knock some of these things out hopefully.
A roofer is due today to give us a price on fixing two leaks around our chimney and one mystery leak. The bug guy is coming back today to try to bait for the pain in the butt tiny little odorous household ants which continue to attack the kitchen.
And the deli has breaded boneless porkchops with scalloped potatoes today! Woohoo!
I have an ultra-sound scheduled for Monday to try to determine what has been going on in my right abdomen that has caused me so much pain. But in all honesty the pain has continued to diminish across the past few days and I've been feeling better and better.
I still have a swollen lymph node on the back of my neck, but it changes size quite dramatically. Typically it's so small in the morning that you can barely find it. But by day's end it's fairly pronounced again.
The doc may stick a needle in the node to run some pathology on its contents. But considering it's changing size so dramatically it's skeptical it's cancer, but more of a reaction to something else going on.
I've been staying away from a lot of physical stuff to prevent aggrevating whatever has been causing me pain. But the pain has improved enough that I want to at the very least get back to some light exercises.
I've got a very busy week with plenty to do from Albert Design Studio work to installing a rain barrel along the back side of the house. Taking things methodically and slowly I can knock some of these things out hopefully.
A roofer is due today to give us a price on fixing two leaks around our chimney and one mystery leak. The bug guy is coming back today to try to bait for the pain in the butt tiny little odorous household ants which continue to attack the kitchen.
And the deli has breaded boneless porkchops with scalloped potatoes today! Woohoo!
Monday, May 26, 2008
To Remember
A friend I graduated high school with was interested in attending West Point, and West Point expressed interest in him.
He was invited, with his father, to spend a day and a night on the West Point campus. At 6 a.m. they were awaken from their beds by a huge "BANG!" They asked the first person they saw, "What was that?"
"Oh that's the cannon they fire every morning at 6 a.m."
My friend decided right then that the Army wasn't for him.
And the military certainly has never been my cup of tea. But I am glad that it is somebody's.
With our military actively involved in conflict on the other side of the world, all the attention still lands in Washington watching Congress. It's not really where the attention is deserved though.
To me the attention, and praise, should be focused on all those soldiers who have no side in the daily debates, but daily risk their lives without questions for our freedoms and ways of life. To all the families who give of their loved ones to serve and protect us, my attention is continuously drawn.
Troop surges, troop withdrawls, just remember our troops this Memorial Day, especially those who have gave the ultimate of sacrifices.
Often times when people approach me to let me know how sorry they are to hear I have cancer, I shrug my shoulders and say, "There's 1-year-olds dealing with cancer. There's 19-year-olds dying in Iraq. I can take it."
We made sure to hang our flag out front this morning.
He was invited, with his father, to spend a day and a night on the West Point campus. At 6 a.m. they were awaken from their beds by a huge "BANG!" They asked the first person they saw, "What was that?"
"Oh that's the cannon they fire every morning at 6 a.m."
My friend decided right then that the Army wasn't for him.
And the military certainly has never been my cup of tea. But I am glad that it is somebody's.
With our military actively involved in conflict on the other side of the world, all the attention still lands in Washington watching Congress. It's not really where the attention is deserved though.
To me the attention, and praise, should be focused on all those soldiers who have no side in the daily debates, but daily risk their lives without questions for our freedoms and ways of life. To all the families who give of their loved ones to serve and protect us, my attention is continuously drawn.
Troop surges, troop withdrawls, just remember our troops this Memorial Day, especially those who have gave the ultimate of sacrifices.
Often times when people approach me to let me know how sorry they are to hear I have cancer, I shrug my shoulders and say, "There's 1-year-olds dealing with cancer. There's 19-year-olds dying in Iraq. I can take it."
We made sure to hang our flag out front this morning.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Just Want to Play in the Dirt, That's All, Just Play in the Dirt
A bright sunshining Spring day has a way of making a person feel better no matter what the circumstances.
And I am feeling better today. The pains are still there. And a hiccup, cough, or even a laugh will serve as a quick reminder. But overall I'd say I feel OK.
Last night Alyssa and Charlie were over and they said something that gave me a big belly laugh, and then that belly laugh bent me in two from the sharp stabbing feeling. You know you're a bit down on your luck when a good laugh hurts bad.
But Friday morning I did continue my physician marathon and met with my family doc. We had a very good conversation and set a gameplan for going after what has been ailing me, first finding out what it is, then taking any appropriate measures.
I think, unfortunately, I have to try to take it easy on myself for awhile. I was exercising regularly, and hauling boxes around to clean out the basement, and now I have to try to just back off until the doc and I figure this stuff out.
But I do want to get out in this sunshine and play in the dirt a little today - pull some weeds, maybe even get out the new pressure washer for a test drive. I'm a simple guy. It's some of the simplest things that make me most content.
A warm smile, a simple generous gesture, a pat on the back - these things go far with me.
I remember in a full elevator this Thursday in Philadelphia. When the doors opened I made sure all the ladies had a chance to exit first. One nurse went by me with a smile. I could read the goofy expression on her face that was thinking "You're not from around here are you?"
And I am feeling better today. The pains are still there. And a hiccup, cough, or even a laugh will serve as a quick reminder. But overall I'd say I feel OK.
Last night Alyssa and Charlie were over and they said something that gave me a big belly laugh, and then that belly laugh bent me in two from the sharp stabbing feeling. You know you're a bit down on your luck when a good laugh hurts bad.
But Friday morning I did continue my physician marathon and met with my family doc. We had a very good conversation and set a gameplan for going after what has been ailing me, first finding out what it is, then taking any appropriate measures.
I think, unfortunately, I have to try to take it easy on myself for awhile. I was exercising regularly, and hauling boxes around to clean out the basement, and now I have to try to just back off until the doc and I figure this stuff out.
But I do want to get out in this sunshine and play in the dirt a little today - pull some weeds, maybe even get out the new pressure washer for a test drive. I'm a simple guy. It's some of the simplest things that make me most content.
A warm smile, a simple generous gesture, a pat on the back - these things go far with me.
I remember in a full elevator this Thursday in Philadelphia. When the doors opened I made sure all the ladies had a chance to exit first. One nurse went by me with a smile. I could read the goofy expression on her face that was thinking "You're not from around here are you?"
Friday, May 23, 2008
Sigh
I don't like the Hospital at the University of Philadelphia. I don't like it at all.
It's crowded. It's disorganized. It's chaotic. It's a mess.
Yesterday we did the mean drive down the Schuylkill Expressway, turned onto South Street, and visited the Penn Hospital. It was up to the fourth floor to have a consultation with a surgeon. With valet parking out front the trip into the office was quite easy.
The office was jam packed. Soon we could tell that people around us were waiting a long time. It looked like an emergency room waiting room after a bus accident.
We waited just over three hours in all to see the surgeon I was scheduled to meet. Three hours in uncomfortable lobby chairs, waiting for the moment when they might call the name "Albert." Three hours . . . ugh . . .
It's been a confusing months of doctor's visits.
All of a sudden my oncologist turned kind of mean this month for some unknown reason and told me just to go to the emergency room or my primary doctor if I had troubles.
The surgeon in Philly yesterday was recommended by the kidney cancer specialist in Philly. The kidney cancer specialist told us he knew him well and he had been doing dozens of these new "ablation" procedures where they freeze tumors after inserting a pretty fancy needle. Turns out the surgeon has never done one of these procedures. And the surgeon felt that I shouldn't have any procedures done at all.
So we drove to Philly and waited for three hours to find out that?
Just exhausted today from yesterday. But I did pull myself in to my family doctor this morning. I recounted the whole confusing month to him and he's onboard towards helping me find anwers to what's been ailing me. Soon we will do an ultra-sound of the abdomen and brave another needle for more bloodtests. That should at least lead us to some answers.
I think I'll be staying away from the University of Pennsylvania for quite awhile. You can have the city life - Green Acres we are here!
It's crowded. It's disorganized. It's chaotic. It's a mess.
Yesterday we did the mean drive down the Schuylkill Expressway, turned onto South Street, and visited the Penn Hospital. It was up to the fourth floor to have a consultation with a surgeon. With valet parking out front the trip into the office was quite easy.
The office was jam packed. Soon we could tell that people around us were waiting a long time. It looked like an emergency room waiting room after a bus accident.
We waited just over three hours in all to see the surgeon I was scheduled to meet. Three hours in uncomfortable lobby chairs, waiting for the moment when they might call the name "Albert." Three hours . . . ugh . . .
It's been a confusing months of doctor's visits.
All of a sudden my oncologist turned kind of mean this month for some unknown reason and told me just to go to the emergency room or my primary doctor if I had troubles.
The surgeon in Philly yesterday was recommended by the kidney cancer specialist in Philly. The kidney cancer specialist told us he knew him well and he had been doing dozens of these new "ablation" procedures where they freeze tumors after inserting a pretty fancy needle. Turns out the surgeon has never done one of these procedures. And the surgeon felt that I shouldn't have any procedures done at all.
So we drove to Philly and waited for three hours to find out that?
Just exhausted today from yesterday. But I did pull myself in to my family doctor this morning. I recounted the whole confusing month to him and he's onboard towards helping me find anwers to what's been ailing me. Soon we will do an ultra-sound of the abdomen and brave another needle for more bloodtests. That should at least lead us to some answers.
I think I'll be staying away from the University of Pennsylvania for quite awhile. You can have the city life - Green Acres we are here!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Doing a Bit Better and Self-Diagnosis
One problem I've experienced with cancer is my doctors having tunnel vision.
Since I have cancer, anything that comes up is cancer's or chemotherapy's fault. But that just isn't necessarily the case. There's a whole host of everyday things that can still inflict me just like anyone else. But everything now is all about the cancer and nothing else is even considered.
I think that has been a particular problem over the past month. My primary doctor and my oncologist have been passing me back and forth like a hot potato, neither of them wanting to deal with my current situation. My theory is the hospital administration has asked doctors to restrict scans because none of them seem to want to order one for me.
As of yesterday I've come to the conclusion that something is going on with my gall bladder. I'm not fond of diagnosing myself. But with the doctors not taking action on the unique symptoms I've had the past month I've really had no choice but to try to pursue answers on my own.
There's nothing like having to go to the doctor and telling him what you have. But I certainly could be wrong. But at least I think my self-diagnosis could spur action. I certainly hope so.
I'll call this morning and try to make an appointment for Friday. We'll see . . . ?
Last night I slept much better, with the pain killers right next to the bed. When the pain killers wore off and I woke up at 2:30 a.m. I just took another dose and I was back to sleep until the alarm sounded at 5 a.m.
Today will be a somewhat restful day before we have to head down the pike to meet the surgeon in Philadelphia. If my self-diagnosis is correct on the gall bladder, I could be facing two separate surgeries in the weeks to come. I just say, "Let's move it forward." The past month of the doctors doing nothing has driven me nuts.
Since I have cancer, anything that comes up is cancer's or chemotherapy's fault. But that just isn't necessarily the case. There's a whole host of everyday things that can still inflict me just like anyone else. But everything now is all about the cancer and nothing else is even considered.
I think that has been a particular problem over the past month. My primary doctor and my oncologist have been passing me back and forth like a hot potato, neither of them wanting to deal with my current situation. My theory is the hospital administration has asked doctors to restrict scans because none of them seem to want to order one for me.
As of yesterday I've come to the conclusion that something is going on with my gall bladder. I'm not fond of diagnosing myself. But with the doctors not taking action on the unique symptoms I've had the past month I've really had no choice but to try to pursue answers on my own.
There's nothing like having to go to the doctor and telling him what you have. But I certainly could be wrong. But at least I think my self-diagnosis could spur action. I certainly hope so.
I'll call this morning and try to make an appointment for Friday. We'll see . . . ?
Last night I slept much better, with the pain killers right next to the bed. When the pain killers wore off and I woke up at 2:30 a.m. I just took another dose and I was back to sleep until the alarm sounded at 5 a.m.
Today will be a somewhat restful day before we have to head down the pike to meet the surgeon in Philadelphia. If my self-diagnosis is correct on the gall bladder, I could be facing two separate surgeries in the weeks to come. I just say, "Let's move it forward." The past month of the doctors doing nothing has driven me nuts.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Feeling Rough and Confused
For the past month I've been dealing with some mysterious ailments that still remain a mystery.
In rapid succession, first a lymph node on the back of my neck swelled, and dagger-like pain invaded my right shoulder. We figured it was a virus and it would pass. I've certainly had instances like this in the past.
But after a month the node is still enlarged and the pain in the shoulder moved to the belly, my side and my lower back. The pain has always stayed on the right side of my body.
After a few weeks of dealing with this I made an appointment with the oncologist. Since I had scans in March he did not think that it was cancer on the move and decided that maybe we should wait it out.
I have an appointment with a surgeon in Philly this Thursday to discuss removing the sole known tumor in my body from my upper left lung. And my oncologist said that we should wait to see what he thinks before acting on my current ailments. "Maybe he'll order a PET scan," he said.
But I don't quite understand. Thursday the appointment is to discuss the tumor in my upper left lung. All of my current ailments have been along the right side of my body. I don't quite understand why we haven't jumped on the current ailments right away, and try to define their causes even before I go to Philly.
For whatever reason I feel the most pain during the night when I'm trying to sleep, or first thing in the morning. This morning was terrible, stabbing sharp pains alternating between my stomach, side and lower back.
I've developed gas in the stomach the past few weeks as well. And it expresses itself in little gas bubbles, in sets of two, three or four, up my esophagus. When this occurs the pain in my right side is its worse. It feels like something is going to burst, and it briefly folds me in two.
I'm very confused by the symptoms. They make no sense to me. It's the same type of pain, but moving from my shoulder to my stomach to my back?
And I'm very confused by the lack of action to try and determine the cause.
I've got a call in to the nurses at the oncology office, the first step in reporting issues. Now I'm just sitting out the morning waiting for a call back. There won't be time to have any testing done before Thursday's appointment in Philly. I just hope the surgeon isn't too confused planning on one specific subject for discussion and being thrown into another.
In rapid succession, first a lymph node on the back of my neck swelled, and dagger-like pain invaded my right shoulder. We figured it was a virus and it would pass. I've certainly had instances like this in the past.
But after a month the node is still enlarged and the pain in the shoulder moved to the belly, my side and my lower back. The pain has always stayed on the right side of my body.
After a few weeks of dealing with this I made an appointment with the oncologist. Since I had scans in March he did not think that it was cancer on the move and decided that maybe we should wait it out.
I have an appointment with a surgeon in Philly this Thursday to discuss removing the sole known tumor in my body from my upper left lung. And my oncologist said that we should wait to see what he thinks before acting on my current ailments. "Maybe he'll order a PET scan," he said.
But I don't quite understand. Thursday the appointment is to discuss the tumor in my upper left lung. All of my current ailments have been along the right side of my body. I don't quite understand why we haven't jumped on the current ailments right away, and try to define their causes even before I go to Philly.
For whatever reason I feel the most pain during the night when I'm trying to sleep, or first thing in the morning. This morning was terrible, stabbing sharp pains alternating between my stomach, side and lower back.
I've developed gas in the stomach the past few weeks as well. And it expresses itself in little gas bubbles, in sets of two, three or four, up my esophagus. When this occurs the pain in my right side is its worse. It feels like something is going to burst, and it briefly folds me in two.
I'm very confused by the symptoms. They make no sense to me. It's the same type of pain, but moving from my shoulder to my stomach to my back?
And I'm very confused by the lack of action to try and determine the cause.
I've got a call in to the nurses at the oncology office, the first step in reporting issues. Now I'm just sitting out the morning waiting for a call back. There won't be time to have any testing done before Thursday's appointment in Philly. I just hope the surgeon isn't too confused planning on one specific subject for discussion and being thrown into another.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Ellis, Ronald Reagan, and Sausage Sandwiches
Marietta was the quietest I've ever heard it Sunday morning. Everyone seemed hungover from Marietta Days on Saturday.
Now Marietta Days isn't really "days." It's just one day, one day of closing down Market Street and lining it with vendors, sidewalk sales, food and whoknowswhats.
Barb and Alyssa agreed that they would have a sidewalk sale in front of our house this year. For weeks Barb has gathered stuff from our basement and throughout the family, and its collected in the front room. Saturday it met the street. It must have been pretty successful because far less came back into the house than went out.
Now its time to call the junk man.
I keep my involvement in Marietta Days to a minimum. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kinda' big and scarey. If I'm standing behind some sale items people just don't approach like they would with Barb and Alyssa working their saleswomanship out there.
For me Marietta Days is about Youndt's sausage sandwiches. This year it was also about family dropping in, and bumping into local friends we haven't seen in awhile.
As for the sausage sandwiches - I had two. They're big, grilled perfect, served with sauce, green peppers, and onions. I had my first one at 8:50 a.m. It's so good.
As for family, our nephew Ellis stole the show with his energy and "squishy" dinosaur. Ellis's energy is boundless and he sprinted from corner to corner of the house, to the sidewalk, to the back porch, and all over again. When he first arrived he took off upstairs to look for Freckles. I went along to play "lion tamer" if necessary. Freckles was no where to be found.
"C'mon," I said. "I know a few places he likes to hide."
Ellis would not be content until he said "Hi," to Freckles.
We found him on the first floor under a couch. Ellis gave him a couple hello growls. Freckles watched with concern.
Around 1 p.m., after my second sausage sandwich, I went upstairs to rest for an hour. Ellis followed me quickly and looked in the bedroom and said, "Goodnight Uncle Jim." Then took off, leaving me to rest.
Out on the sidewalk the instant hit was my Ronald Reagan mask. Right at the start of the sales day a few customers expressed serious interest in the mask. It was a mask I was given from a Halloween shop when I did an odd election story in Philadelphia. It went quick at $10.
Marietta has always had a reputation of being a little weird. Marietta Days provides us with a nice, up-close glimpse of that.
I'm OK with weird though. Austin, Texas started a business campaign called "Keep Austin Weird." It was a big hit. And I think it would be appropriate for Marietta too.
"Keep Marietta Weird"
Now Marietta Days isn't really "days." It's just one day, one day of closing down Market Street and lining it with vendors, sidewalk sales, food and whoknowswhats.
Barb and Alyssa agreed that they would have a sidewalk sale in front of our house this year. For weeks Barb has gathered stuff from our basement and throughout the family, and its collected in the front room. Saturday it met the street. It must have been pretty successful because far less came back into the house than went out.
Now its time to call the junk man.
I keep my involvement in Marietta Days to a minimum. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kinda' big and scarey. If I'm standing behind some sale items people just don't approach like they would with Barb and Alyssa working their saleswomanship out there.
For me Marietta Days is about Youndt's sausage sandwiches. This year it was also about family dropping in, and bumping into local friends we haven't seen in awhile.
As for the sausage sandwiches - I had two. They're big, grilled perfect, served with sauce, green peppers, and onions. I had my first one at 8:50 a.m. It's so good.
As for family, our nephew Ellis stole the show with his energy and "squishy" dinosaur. Ellis's energy is boundless and he sprinted from corner to corner of the house, to the sidewalk, to the back porch, and all over again. When he first arrived he took off upstairs to look for Freckles. I went along to play "lion tamer" if necessary. Freckles was no where to be found.
"C'mon," I said. "I know a few places he likes to hide."
Ellis would not be content until he said "Hi," to Freckles.
We found him on the first floor under a couch. Ellis gave him a couple hello growls. Freckles watched with concern.
Around 1 p.m., after my second sausage sandwich, I went upstairs to rest for an hour. Ellis followed me quickly and looked in the bedroom and said, "Goodnight Uncle Jim." Then took off, leaving me to rest.
Out on the sidewalk the instant hit was my Ronald Reagan mask. Right at the start of the sales day a few customers expressed serious interest in the mask. It was a mask I was given from a Halloween shop when I did an odd election story in Philadelphia. It went quick at $10.
Marietta has always had a reputation of being a little weird. Marietta Days provides us with a nice, up-close glimpse of that.
I'm OK with weird though. Austin, Texas started a business campaign called "Keep Austin Weird." It was a big hit. And I think it would be appropriate for Marietta too.
"Keep Marietta Weird"
Friday, May 16, 2008
Am I On Some Kind of Whacky TV Show?
If I'm on some kind of reality bloopers show, c'mon, the jig is up, let's just stop it now.
Barb just called me up to the second bath upstairs and a slow drip of water was coming out of the side of our overhead light. Hmmmmpphhh.
Well we already know that it takes a dwarf to access the crawl space above that portion of ceiling. I turned off the fuse that allows electricity to that light. Barb headed up to the attic to see just how close she could get to the area of the leak. There's no access from the regular attic. We need to pop open a small panel in the ceiling of the laundry room to get up there. It's a mess.
But Barb called me up to the attic. She found another leak near the chimney. We got a flashlight and there was yet another leak on the otherside of the chimney, all the way at the top of the chimney were it had been closed off.
We examined around the attic, the 2nd and 1st floors, the basement, it seems like there are only 3 leaks. ONLY???
We must have a curse over us this week. Yesterday it was the car being broken into. Today it's the roof leaking.
We placed a call to the company that originally finished the roof, just before we bought the house. With it raining now they can't do much. But, as I type, they're trying to figure out how and when to best get out here to help us out.
I hope they can.
And the rain is starting to disipate. I hope the worst of the wet stuff has passed us.
If it's not one thing it's another. But, hey, a little excitement takes my mind off other things for awhile, like the cancer. Life with a 200-year-old house - there is always something.
Barb just called me up to the second bath upstairs and a slow drip of water was coming out of the side of our overhead light. Hmmmmpphhh.
Well we already know that it takes a dwarf to access the crawl space above that portion of ceiling. I turned off the fuse that allows electricity to that light. Barb headed up to the attic to see just how close she could get to the area of the leak. There's no access from the regular attic. We need to pop open a small panel in the ceiling of the laundry room to get up there. It's a mess.
But Barb called me up to the attic. She found another leak near the chimney. We got a flashlight and there was yet another leak on the otherside of the chimney, all the way at the top of the chimney were it had been closed off.
We examined around the attic, the 2nd and 1st floors, the basement, it seems like there are only 3 leaks. ONLY???
We must have a curse over us this week. Yesterday it was the car being broken into. Today it's the roof leaking.
We placed a call to the company that originally finished the roof, just before we bought the house. With it raining now they can't do much. But, as I type, they're trying to figure out how and when to best get out here to help us out.
I hope they can.
And the rain is starting to disipate. I hope the worst of the wet stuff has passed us.
If it's not one thing it's another. But, hey, a little excitement takes my mind off other things for awhile, like the cancer. Life with a 200-year-old house - there is always something.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Where Are We Going?
I went out to the car yesterday around 10 a.m. to put the car back together after flattening the rear seats to haul some things. It's "Marietta Days" this Saturday and the "stuff" has been flowing into our house to try to sell at this large, town-wide yard sale.
I'm in it for the food. The deli always has its famous Philly-style sausage sandwiches, grilled with sauce, onions and peppers. Mmmmmmmm-mmmmm. There are all kinds of great french fry stands, and all kinds of food in general.
I was fumbling with my car keys yesterday when I reached the FJ Cruiser. Glancing downward I caught the image of broken glass at my feet. I knew what it was right away and pulled my head back slowly to see my driver's side window completely smashed into little pieces.
Someone had broken into our car.
I peaked in quickly and could tell that someone had rifled through our glove box, tossing the contents about the front seat and floor. I wanted to call the police as soon as possible so I made a beeline back to the house, also to empty my arms full of backseat headrests.
I told Barb and she teared up a little but quickly pulled her composure back together. We don't keep anything of any value in the car. But I understand how she felt - violated.
I called the police at 10:17 a.m. An officer would be out as soon as possible I was told.
I went back out to the FJ to look around. I felt it best not to touch anything until the police arrived. I peered in the window and the only things that were missing was about $2 in change and an expired coupon for an oil change. There was glass everywhere.
I walked around the back alley to see if any other cars had suffered the same fate. Nope. It seemed like all the other cars on the block were untouched.
I think I waited for a police officer to show up for about an hour before I called the police again. Did they get my address wrong? Were they still coming?
All of the officers are busy with other calls, I was told. I was on their list.
I called once an hour, for four hours, and still no response from our local police. Somewhere into the third hour I called the borough office and asked cynically "Is this normal response time for our police department?"
The borough office was outraged too. They gave me the chief of police's direct-line, well at least his secretary's direct-line. As we reached the four-hour mark I tried to call the chief direct. His secretary tried to give me the brush off. I leaned back into her.
"Four hours? Four hours? Should I or anyone be happy with such a response time?" I said. "Could you at least tell me what the officers are tied up with so maybe I can feel better about waiting like this?"
I let her know that I could not wait any longer. I had to get the window fixed. I do not have a garage and rain was due that evening. I told her they might as well not send anyone out because by the time they get there the car would be fixed and there would be nothing to see.
I told her that I'm going to make sure this gets back to the borough and to the chief. Then she asked me to hold and an officer picked up the phone.
The officer was very polite and he took a report over the phone. He told me it probably really didn't matter whether they came out to see the crime scene or not because they rarely catch anyone.
WHAT?!?!?!?
Where are we going when police decide to never respond to a crime scene, and admit that they probably won't catch the culprit anyway?
Sounds like we need to invest more in policing our local communities rather than those half-way around the world.
Jeesh.
The window was fixed before the rains came. The police called us later to let us know that there had been several car break-ins in Marietta over the past few days.
Great...now they're interested?
I'm in it for the food. The deli always has its famous Philly-style sausage sandwiches, grilled with sauce, onions and peppers. Mmmmmmmm-mmmmm. There are all kinds of great french fry stands, and all kinds of food in general.
I was fumbling with my car keys yesterday when I reached the FJ Cruiser. Glancing downward I caught the image of broken glass at my feet. I knew what it was right away and pulled my head back slowly to see my driver's side window completely smashed into little pieces.
Someone had broken into our car.
I peaked in quickly and could tell that someone had rifled through our glove box, tossing the contents about the front seat and floor. I wanted to call the police as soon as possible so I made a beeline back to the house, also to empty my arms full of backseat headrests.
I told Barb and she teared up a little but quickly pulled her composure back together. We don't keep anything of any value in the car. But I understand how she felt - violated.
I called the police at 10:17 a.m. An officer would be out as soon as possible I was told.
I went back out to the FJ to look around. I felt it best not to touch anything until the police arrived. I peered in the window and the only things that were missing was about $2 in change and an expired coupon for an oil change. There was glass everywhere.
I walked around the back alley to see if any other cars had suffered the same fate. Nope. It seemed like all the other cars on the block were untouched.
I think I waited for a police officer to show up for about an hour before I called the police again. Did they get my address wrong? Were they still coming?
All of the officers are busy with other calls, I was told. I was on their list.
I called once an hour, for four hours, and still no response from our local police. Somewhere into the third hour I called the borough office and asked cynically "Is this normal response time for our police department?"
The borough office was outraged too. They gave me the chief of police's direct-line, well at least his secretary's direct-line. As we reached the four-hour mark I tried to call the chief direct. His secretary tried to give me the brush off. I leaned back into her.
"Four hours? Four hours? Should I or anyone be happy with such a response time?" I said. "Could you at least tell me what the officers are tied up with so maybe I can feel better about waiting like this?"
I let her know that I could not wait any longer. I had to get the window fixed. I do not have a garage and rain was due that evening. I told her they might as well not send anyone out because by the time they get there the car would be fixed and there would be nothing to see.
I told her that I'm going to make sure this gets back to the borough and to the chief. Then she asked me to hold and an officer picked up the phone.
The officer was very polite and he took a report over the phone. He told me it probably really didn't matter whether they came out to see the crime scene or not because they rarely catch anyone.
WHAT?!?!?!?
Where are we going when police decide to never respond to a crime scene, and admit that they probably won't catch the culprit anyway?
Sounds like we need to invest more in policing our local communities rather than those half-way around the world.
Jeesh.
The window was fixed before the rains came. The police called us later to let us know that there had been several car break-ins in Marietta over the past few days.
Great...now they're interested?
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
One Pill Makes You Larger and One Pill Makes You Small
Generally speaking, I try to take as little medicine as is humanly possible. Doctors try to help me by prescribing this and prescribing that, some medicine is effective and some isn't.
I do have a whole drawer full of medicines that I tried and then decided not to take. Some medicines served an immediate purpose and then weren't needed, so they went straight into the drawer.
On an ongoing basis I try to eliminate any and all medicines whenever I can.
Right now though I've got a bevy of active pill bottles.
Everything starts with the Nexavar, the chemo medicine. The chemo makes all the other drugs necessary, to try to deal with the side effects.
I take two different medicines to try to calm my stomach and digestive track. I take vitamins daily. I take a female hormone to stimulate my appetite. I have some pills to calm the nerves (which I mainly take around scan time). I've just added pills to fight the fatique and help keep me more awake and alert. And now there's allergy pills too. Yesterday pain killers were added to the mix for my shoulder pains. It's a bevy of pills and liquids that I pour into myself every morning and evening.
The costs are all over the place, from the female hormone which costs $500 a month to the pain killers that cost $13 a month.
The stomach gets a bit upset if I just throw all the medicines in at once every morning. So I have to spread it out. Getting through the morning medicines is about a two-hour process, mixed with some soft breakfast food as a buffer for the tummy.
I do dream of a day when I can put all of the drugs into the inactive drug drawer, and then pull out the drawer and throw them all away.
I do have a whole drawer full of medicines that I tried and then decided not to take. Some medicines served an immediate purpose and then weren't needed, so they went straight into the drawer.
On an ongoing basis I try to eliminate any and all medicines whenever I can.
Right now though I've got a bevy of active pill bottles.
Everything starts with the Nexavar, the chemo medicine. The chemo makes all the other drugs necessary, to try to deal with the side effects.
I take two different medicines to try to calm my stomach and digestive track. I take vitamins daily. I take a female hormone to stimulate my appetite. I have some pills to calm the nerves (which I mainly take around scan time). I've just added pills to fight the fatique and help keep me more awake and alert. And now there's allergy pills too. Yesterday pain killers were added to the mix for my shoulder pains. It's a bevy of pills and liquids that I pour into myself every morning and evening.
The costs are all over the place, from the female hormone which costs $500 a month to the pain killers that cost $13 a month.
The stomach gets a bit upset if I just throw all the medicines in at once every morning. So I have to spread it out. Getting through the morning medicines is about a two-hour process, mixed with some soft breakfast food as a buffer for the tummy.
I do dream of a day when I can put all of the drugs into the inactive drug drawer, and then pull out the drawer and throw them all away.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Feeling Great to Feeling Not So Great
For the past month or so I've been dealing with some "stuff." It's not out of the ordinary that "stuff" pops up and cranks the worry-meter up a bit. And it's not out of the ordinary that it passes and it's quickly forgotten about.
First my Dad was getting dizzy spells. He was diagnosed with an inner ear infection and given a prescription. Then a couple weeks later I started having dizzy spells.
Then Alyssa had an enlarged lymph node high on the back of her neck. Then a few days later I developed an enlarged lymph node low on the back of my neck.
I've been stiff and sore all over with especially sharp pains in my right shoulder. I've been doing a lot of Spring cleaning, and lifting and stretching, but it doesn't feel like a physical type injury.
If I had to describe the shoulder pain I would have to describe it more like arthritis, with some weird connection to my stomach, since if I cough or sneeze or burp it makes my shoulder feel like a sharp knife is being plunged deep.
Sunday I felt great. My energy was good. I felt like skipping and jumping around.
Monday couldn't have been more different. Now the weather on Monday was awful, raining all day and in the 40s for a high. It was the kind of weather that would make arthritis work up.
But how does that explain the enlarged lymph node?
I just seem to have these strange little nuicances that may or may not be related to one another.
So we called the oncologist yesterday. He told me to come on in at 8:30 a.m. this morning.
We head out early and were glad to see we were his first appointment of the day (no waiting). In general I was feeling a whole lot better than the day before. He said it could be a viral thing, it could be a cancer thing, flip a coin, but we should try to find out. He sent me for an x-ray of my shoulder, and since the x-ray department was just down the hall we had it done right away. We should have the results tomorrow.
In general, whenever the oncologist hears about an enlarged lymph node he is almost obliged to follow through on it with scans.
But I do feel that this is probably a viral thing, mixed in with an arthritis flare-up. The plan is to go ahead with the May 22nd appointment in Philly with the surgeon. My oncologist told us he would be scheduling scans regardless, probably a PET scan, where they inject radioactive sugar into me to track and find cancer areas.
I didn't get any finite answers to all these aches and pains and swollen nodes. But the process has begun. And we'll see what tomorrow has in store for me.
First my Dad was getting dizzy spells. He was diagnosed with an inner ear infection and given a prescription. Then a couple weeks later I started having dizzy spells.
Then Alyssa had an enlarged lymph node high on the back of her neck. Then a few days later I developed an enlarged lymph node low on the back of my neck.
I've been stiff and sore all over with especially sharp pains in my right shoulder. I've been doing a lot of Spring cleaning, and lifting and stretching, but it doesn't feel like a physical type injury.
If I had to describe the shoulder pain I would have to describe it more like arthritis, with some weird connection to my stomach, since if I cough or sneeze or burp it makes my shoulder feel like a sharp knife is being plunged deep.
Sunday I felt great. My energy was good. I felt like skipping and jumping around.
Monday couldn't have been more different. Now the weather on Monday was awful, raining all day and in the 40s for a high. It was the kind of weather that would make arthritis work up.
But how does that explain the enlarged lymph node?
I just seem to have these strange little nuicances that may or may not be related to one another.
So we called the oncologist yesterday. He told me to come on in at 8:30 a.m. this morning.
We head out early and were glad to see we were his first appointment of the day (no waiting). In general I was feeling a whole lot better than the day before. He said it could be a viral thing, it could be a cancer thing, flip a coin, but we should try to find out. He sent me for an x-ray of my shoulder, and since the x-ray department was just down the hall we had it done right away. We should have the results tomorrow.
In general, whenever the oncologist hears about an enlarged lymph node he is almost obliged to follow through on it with scans.
But I do feel that this is probably a viral thing, mixed in with an arthritis flare-up. The plan is to go ahead with the May 22nd appointment in Philly with the surgeon. My oncologist told us he would be scheduling scans regardless, probably a PET scan, where they inject radioactive sugar into me to track and find cancer areas.
I didn't get any finite answers to all these aches and pains and swollen nodes. But the process has begun. And we'll see what tomorrow has in store for me.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Mom's Day and the Advent of Alyssa's Cooking Prowess
When I left home for college I couldn't cook anything beyond a bowl of cereal. After a semester in a dorm room, eating at the college's cafeteria, I was out of there. I moved off campus into the "Soccer House," a house of 12 soccer players led by a graduate from my high school.
I still remember during those first weeks in the soccer house how a guy we called "Wolfie" taught me how to boil water, and then cook spaghetti noodles.
That was all it took. I ran with it from there. I always loved to eat. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that I would need to learn to cook well if I wanted to eat well.
Yesterday, our daughter Alyssa had us over to her house for a Mother's Day dinner. I was excited and frightened all at once.
Afterall, before Alyssa moved out on her own, while she was still with us here in Marietta, the most advanced thing I ever saw her cook was a Hot Pocket in the microwave.
But being out on your own can have some very important effects on a young person. Your laundry seemed to just appear, the house seemed to magically clean itself, and food was an expected provision. Then, all of a sudden, you realize that you have to do all of this for yourself.
Alyssa cooked us a pot roast with a special au jus, fancy parmesan green beans with italian seasonings, and roasted quartered red potatoes with a slight cheesey crisp on top. Oh, and in her downtime she managed to whip together an awesome cheese cake complete with cherry topping.
WOW! Where did this come from?!?!? - from Hot Pockets to pot roasts!
She did an excellent job. She's well on her way for sure. Everything was really delicious. I filled my plate up twice.
I was very proud of her, but I really never had any doubt that she would pull it off.
Here's to Alyssa for a wonderful meal.
And as it was mentioned yesterday - what time should we be over next Sunday?
I still remember during those first weeks in the soccer house how a guy we called "Wolfie" taught me how to boil water, and then cook spaghetti noodles.
That was all it took. I ran with it from there. I always loved to eat. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that I would need to learn to cook well if I wanted to eat well.
Yesterday, our daughter Alyssa had us over to her house for a Mother's Day dinner. I was excited and frightened all at once.
Afterall, before Alyssa moved out on her own, while she was still with us here in Marietta, the most advanced thing I ever saw her cook was a Hot Pocket in the microwave.
But being out on your own can have some very important effects on a young person. Your laundry seemed to just appear, the house seemed to magically clean itself, and food was an expected provision. Then, all of a sudden, you realize that you have to do all of this for yourself.
Alyssa cooked us a pot roast with a special au jus, fancy parmesan green beans with italian seasonings, and roasted quartered red potatoes with a slight cheesey crisp on top. Oh, and in her downtime she managed to whip together an awesome cheese cake complete with cherry topping.
WOW! Where did this come from?!?!? - from Hot Pockets to pot roasts!
She did an excellent job. She's well on her way for sure. Everything was really delicious. I filled my plate up twice.
I was very proud of her, but I really never had any doubt that she would pull it off.
Here's to Alyssa for a wonderful meal.
And as it was mentioned yesterday - what time should we be over next Sunday?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day Susie
I was the first born in a family of three children. I may have been the oldest, but I have always considered myself the "odd one out." I grew up with a very loving family, things weren't always easy for me growing up because I was a bit of a dork. My mom always tried to do everything that she possibly was capable of. I was the one child in the family that usually did not get in trouble with either one of my parents to often. I think that came more as a teenager, when I thought that I knew everything. We grew up going to church frequently, spending alot of time with both sets of grandparents. I think the following should sum alot of things up:
I appreciate my mom so much,
within my days of growing up.
I still continue to grow today,
because of her in many different ways.
I know she has a tender heart,
as she always has from the start.
I can only hope that I am somewhat the same way,
because I feel lucky to this day.
In some of the stages of my life,
things weren't easy dealing with strife.
I know growing up I wish I had been better,
listening more to what mattered.
I always wish I could do more,
to show how much she is adored.
I thank her for all the love she has shown,
and inside me it has only grown.
Please know that I love you mom,
with all my heart.
Thank you for being there,
from the very start.
Love You
Barb
Thanks Mom
On this Mother's Day I reflect back on all of the things my Mom has meant to me. Quite frankly, she's meant so much I hardly know where to begin. I can't possibly cover it all.
Being adopted I've often thought how immensely fortunate I am to have a Mom like I do. I could easily have ended up in a foster home without a Mom, growing up with other orphans. My life certainly could have been much, much different.
My Mom provided me with everything I need and more. It's important to note that she did not provide me with everything I wanted, but everything I need.
Was I spoiled? No, not by a long shot. I was very fortunate. Mom made sure that I had all the important things: clothes; church; education; nutrition; exercise; opportunities. But there was no question she was the boss.
I saw other kids who whined until they got everything they wanted. Not me. I gave that act up quickly. It would never work on my Mom.
"How does it feel to want?" she'd ask.
"It stinks," I'd answer.
"Well get used to it. You're going to be wanting stuff the rest of your life."
My Mom is tough, at least on the exterior. I know though that she is really a big, kind, softy on the inside. Often times people present a first impression which disguises their true self, just a natural defensive technique. My Mom's first impression is "Don't mess with me." But her true spirit is "I'd do anything to help."
And help she has, not just me, but many, many people.
I remember once when a friend traveled with me to Myerstown to help my Dad install a window air conditioner at my Grandmother's. On the way back home my buddy turned to me and said, "Man, your Mom is the toughest woman I've ever met."
Toughest woman I've ever met too. But with the biggest heart I've ever seen.
I started playing midget football when I was 8-years-old, before I switched to soccer at age 13. A couple of Dads were showing up at every practice and befriending the coaches and somewhat bullying the coaches into assuring their sons would play quarterback or running back or whatever position they preferred.
I was a strong candidate for quarterback, tall, could throw the ball for distance and with accuracy, and the most athletic kid in my class. But with the lobbyist Dads out there everyday there was no chance I'd ever see the playing field. Dejected and ready to just give up after one practice my Mom quizzed me on what was bothering me. When I told her she told me to wait in the car and she made a beeline for one of the manipulative fathers.
I'll always remember this. Now this guy was large, a former pro athlete, and he had a bit of a temper. He had no idea what he had coming.
I couldn't hear a thing. But I didn't have to. My Mom tore this man down to his knees and then started over and took him down again. I watched with pride as my Mom talked and he listened, unable to get even a word in. My Mom believed in me, stood up for me against all odds, and I felt very proud to have her as my Mom.
Now, of course, I never saw the playing field after that. But it didn't matter. I should have been playing soccer all along. This was ELCO. The best athletes played soccer. By the time I was a senior I was playing in the state finals (we lost to Mt. Lebanon). I've often said, our soccer team could have beat our football team - in football.
My Mom's philosophy was to always provide me with opportunities. She wanted me to get a taste of everything so I could choose what I best liked from a diversity of interests. I may not have enjoyed the piano, the french horn, or several other things. But looking back I'm so appreciative for the opportunities.
I was in the pool at an early age. I had my life-savings certificate at a ridiculously early age.
I had a chance to play all sports.
Mom didn't let me camp out in front of the TV. Any book or magazine I wanted my Mom would see that I got. But TV? Not a chance. Beyond watching sports or a Saturday morning cartoon or two, there was no TV in my life. Looking back, I'm so thankful for that.
Mom did push me, towards church and finding my spirituality, towards athletics and practicing to be the best I could be, towards knowledge and continuing my education beyond high school. She exposed me to music and art and culture.
I owe her everything, from my life as an infant, changing my diapers and cleaning up after my messes, to the person I've developed into today.
I can't possibly touch on everything she's done for me, and how indebted I am to her.
Thank you Mom! I love you!
Being adopted I've often thought how immensely fortunate I am to have a Mom like I do. I could easily have ended up in a foster home without a Mom, growing up with other orphans. My life certainly could have been much, much different.
My Mom provided me with everything I need and more. It's important to note that she did not provide me with everything I wanted, but everything I need.
Was I spoiled? No, not by a long shot. I was very fortunate. Mom made sure that I had all the important things: clothes; church; education; nutrition; exercise; opportunities. But there was no question she was the boss.
I saw other kids who whined until they got everything they wanted. Not me. I gave that act up quickly. It would never work on my Mom.
"How does it feel to want?" she'd ask.
"It stinks," I'd answer.
"Well get used to it. You're going to be wanting stuff the rest of your life."
My Mom is tough, at least on the exterior. I know though that she is really a big, kind, softy on the inside. Often times people present a first impression which disguises their true self, just a natural defensive technique. My Mom's first impression is "Don't mess with me." But her true spirit is "I'd do anything to help."
And help she has, not just me, but many, many people.
I remember once when a friend traveled with me to Myerstown to help my Dad install a window air conditioner at my Grandmother's. On the way back home my buddy turned to me and said, "Man, your Mom is the toughest woman I've ever met."
Toughest woman I've ever met too. But with the biggest heart I've ever seen.
I started playing midget football when I was 8-years-old, before I switched to soccer at age 13. A couple of Dads were showing up at every practice and befriending the coaches and somewhat bullying the coaches into assuring their sons would play quarterback or running back or whatever position they preferred.
I was a strong candidate for quarterback, tall, could throw the ball for distance and with accuracy, and the most athletic kid in my class. But with the lobbyist Dads out there everyday there was no chance I'd ever see the playing field. Dejected and ready to just give up after one practice my Mom quizzed me on what was bothering me. When I told her she told me to wait in the car and she made a beeline for one of the manipulative fathers.
I'll always remember this. Now this guy was large, a former pro athlete, and he had a bit of a temper. He had no idea what he had coming.
I couldn't hear a thing. But I didn't have to. My Mom tore this man down to his knees and then started over and took him down again. I watched with pride as my Mom talked and he listened, unable to get even a word in. My Mom believed in me, stood up for me against all odds, and I felt very proud to have her as my Mom.
Now, of course, I never saw the playing field after that. But it didn't matter. I should have been playing soccer all along. This was ELCO. The best athletes played soccer. By the time I was a senior I was playing in the state finals (we lost to Mt. Lebanon). I've often said, our soccer team could have beat our football team - in football.
My Mom's philosophy was to always provide me with opportunities. She wanted me to get a taste of everything so I could choose what I best liked from a diversity of interests. I may not have enjoyed the piano, the french horn, or several other things. But looking back I'm so appreciative for the opportunities.
I was in the pool at an early age. I had my life-savings certificate at a ridiculously early age.
I had a chance to play all sports.
Mom didn't let me camp out in front of the TV. Any book or magazine I wanted my Mom would see that I got. But TV? Not a chance. Beyond watching sports or a Saturday morning cartoon or two, there was no TV in my life. Looking back, I'm so thankful for that.
Mom did push me, towards church and finding my spirituality, towards athletics and practicing to be the best I could be, towards knowledge and continuing my education beyond high school. She exposed me to music and art and culture.
I owe her everything, from my life as an infant, changing my diapers and cleaning up after my messes, to the person I've developed into today.
I can't possibly touch on everything she's done for me, and how indebted I am to her.
Thank you Mom! I love you!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Nobody Knows
I've often thought over this past year of chemotherapy how I would know if I was coming down with a cold.
Now if I was having some major sinus event, or a serious sore throat, it would be quite apparent. But if I was starting to feel a little achey, a little run down, how would I know? Afterall I feel like that every day.
At the end of April I noticed a swollen gland/lymph node on the back of my neck, my right shoulder started aching, I was dizzy, and I was generally stiff and sore all over.
I made an appointment with my family doctor and he confirmed what I already knew and then kind of shrugged his shoulders. Chances are that I had picked up a virus, he said, especially since some family members had recently experienced similar things. But since I have cancer - who knows?
The only way to know is to have scans done. But you can't run in to have a scan everytime something hurts. If I did that I'd be getting 20 scans a month.
My family doctor did not want to order a scan. Scans and how doctors use scans has been a subject of some debate in the medical field I've learned.
There are those that believe that scans should be used more. There are those that believe that scans should be part of annual physicals. It makes some sense. If everyone had an annual scan, many diseases, like cancer, would be detected very early before symptoms develop. For cancer patients, this early detection means the world.
Had I had annual scans my cancer would have been detected at a very early stage where it could have been localized and controlled.
But then again, I didn't exactly go for annual physicals.
This past week Congress held a session to evaluate how America was doing in the fight against cancer. Lance Armstrong and Kathleen Edwards testified with others. One Senator remarked, and I think wisely, that she had constituents in her district that would not go for scans out of fear that something bad would be present, and then they would not be able to afford treatments.
In the past I've had a somewhat similar attitude. If there was something bad going on inside I just didn't want to know about it.
Doctors are really divided on the scan issue. Some are all for making scans part of annual physicals. It's an important diagnostic tool that provides concrete results, they argue. Why not use it?
Other doctors do not believe in using scans until something is suspected. They seem to believe that doctors are taught to analyze patient symptoms, and can do so well, without the scans. It's almost like they fear that scans will replace doctors. For example, don't go to the doctor just go get a scan. I've had one very respected local surgeon say to me, "Oh those radiation people just want to make more money."
The insurance companies, of course, do not want to hear anything about making scans a regular feature of a physical. Every scan costs thousands of dollars and the insurance companies don't want to pay for that.
I know my family doctor does not have any philosophical problem with ordering scans. But he wasn't going to order one for me. I'm going out on a limb, but I really think I could tell that the issue of scans, and more specifically number of scans, is something that is often discussed in the local medical community.
If I really wanted a scan he directed me to my oncologist, probably because they wouldn't catch the same heat for ordering numerous scans, like other doctors might.
I wasn't fishing for a scan, and never had brought it up. I just wanted him to take a look at me and give me his opinion on my general, overall health.
The shoulder feels much better now. The swollen gland/lymph node seems to be receeding. The dizziness has definitely improved. It's almost been two-weeks since all these symptoms showed up. I guess I'll give it another week to see how it progresses.
Now if I was having some major sinus event, or a serious sore throat, it would be quite apparent. But if I was starting to feel a little achey, a little run down, how would I know? Afterall I feel like that every day.
At the end of April I noticed a swollen gland/lymph node on the back of my neck, my right shoulder started aching, I was dizzy, and I was generally stiff and sore all over.
I made an appointment with my family doctor and he confirmed what I already knew and then kind of shrugged his shoulders. Chances are that I had picked up a virus, he said, especially since some family members had recently experienced similar things. But since I have cancer - who knows?
The only way to know is to have scans done. But you can't run in to have a scan everytime something hurts. If I did that I'd be getting 20 scans a month.
My family doctor did not want to order a scan. Scans and how doctors use scans has been a subject of some debate in the medical field I've learned.
There are those that believe that scans should be used more. There are those that believe that scans should be part of annual physicals. It makes some sense. If everyone had an annual scan, many diseases, like cancer, would be detected very early before symptoms develop. For cancer patients, this early detection means the world.
Had I had annual scans my cancer would have been detected at a very early stage where it could have been localized and controlled.
But then again, I didn't exactly go for annual physicals.
This past week Congress held a session to evaluate how America was doing in the fight against cancer. Lance Armstrong and Kathleen Edwards testified with others. One Senator remarked, and I think wisely, that she had constituents in her district that would not go for scans out of fear that something bad would be present, and then they would not be able to afford treatments.
In the past I've had a somewhat similar attitude. If there was something bad going on inside I just didn't want to know about it.
Doctors are really divided on the scan issue. Some are all for making scans part of annual physicals. It's an important diagnostic tool that provides concrete results, they argue. Why not use it?
Other doctors do not believe in using scans until something is suspected. They seem to believe that doctors are taught to analyze patient symptoms, and can do so well, without the scans. It's almost like they fear that scans will replace doctors. For example, don't go to the doctor just go get a scan. I've had one very respected local surgeon say to me, "Oh those radiation people just want to make more money."
The insurance companies, of course, do not want to hear anything about making scans a regular feature of a physical. Every scan costs thousands of dollars and the insurance companies don't want to pay for that.
I know my family doctor does not have any philosophical problem with ordering scans. But he wasn't going to order one for me. I'm going out on a limb, but I really think I could tell that the issue of scans, and more specifically number of scans, is something that is often discussed in the local medical community.
If I really wanted a scan he directed me to my oncologist, probably because they wouldn't catch the same heat for ordering numerous scans, like other doctors might.
I wasn't fishing for a scan, and never had brought it up. I just wanted him to take a look at me and give me his opinion on my general, overall health.
The shoulder feels much better now. The swollen gland/lymph node seems to be receeding. The dizziness has definitely improved. It's almost been two-weeks since all these symptoms showed up. I guess I'll give it another week to see how it progresses.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Spring Cleaning
There are some boxes in our basement that we haven't opened since we moved into our current house just over four-years ago.
I now understand why - it's a lot of work. But it's kind of fun too. We're finding all kinds of things that we had forgotten about.
Marietta Days is coming up on May 17th. I'm not sure why it's called "Days" because it only last one day. But, hey, that's Marietta.
On Marietta Days the borough closes Market Street for a good stretch of a dozen blocks or so. Anyone who lives along the route is invited to set-up a stand and sell whatever they want. It's like a big, in-town yard sale, without the yards, just sidewalk.
A few traveling vendors dot the route as well. I was disappointed my first Marietta Days to find that most of the out-of-town vendors were selling Chinese sneakers or FBI baseball caps. It wasn't the quality of vendors I'm used to seeing at this kind of local event - like the Mt. Gretna Art Show or the Kipona Festival in Harrisburg.
I later learned that the only people who had the time to organize the event were people who think Chinese sneakers and FBI baseball caps are cool.
The saving grace is the food. It is the one-day a year that the town's deli sells its infamous grilled sausage sandwiches, made Philly-style with a little sauce, peppers and onions, on a soft hoagie roll. They're out of this world.
And there are great french fries, cut into just about every size or style you could imagine, deep fried and as unhealthy as a potato can get - but oh so good.
One year a vendor showed up with crab cake sandwiches and they also received top-marks from the crew here that day. But they never have come back (pout), although I travel end to end of the event each year looking for them.
Barb and Alyssa are going to set-up shop out front this year. Hopefully we'll get brilliant sunshine. Alyssa is a natural visual merchandiser and sales guru. I'll stay away from the stand so I don't scare anyone away.
But I'm cleaning out those boxes in the basement, finding all kinds of stuff I forgot about. It's one pile for the junkman, one pile to sell on Marietta Days, and one pile of things we want to save.
I'm anxious to be able to see the basement floor again.
Come on over for sausage sandwiches May 17th!
I now understand why - it's a lot of work. But it's kind of fun too. We're finding all kinds of things that we had forgotten about.
Marietta Days is coming up on May 17th. I'm not sure why it's called "Days" because it only last one day. But, hey, that's Marietta.
On Marietta Days the borough closes Market Street for a good stretch of a dozen blocks or so. Anyone who lives along the route is invited to set-up a stand and sell whatever they want. It's like a big, in-town yard sale, without the yards, just sidewalk.
A few traveling vendors dot the route as well. I was disappointed my first Marietta Days to find that most of the out-of-town vendors were selling Chinese sneakers or FBI baseball caps. It wasn't the quality of vendors I'm used to seeing at this kind of local event - like the Mt. Gretna Art Show or the Kipona Festival in Harrisburg.
I later learned that the only people who had the time to organize the event were people who think Chinese sneakers and FBI baseball caps are cool.
The saving grace is the food. It is the one-day a year that the town's deli sells its infamous grilled sausage sandwiches, made Philly-style with a little sauce, peppers and onions, on a soft hoagie roll. They're out of this world.
And there are great french fries, cut into just about every size or style you could imagine, deep fried and as unhealthy as a potato can get - but oh so good.
One year a vendor showed up with crab cake sandwiches and they also received top-marks from the crew here that day. But they never have come back (pout), although I travel end to end of the event each year looking for them.
Barb and Alyssa are going to set-up shop out front this year. Hopefully we'll get brilliant sunshine. Alyssa is a natural visual merchandiser and sales guru. I'll stay away from the stand so I don't scare anyone away.
But I'm cleaning out those boxes in the basement, finding all kinds of stuff I forgot about. It's one pile for the junkman, one pile to sell on Marietta Days, and one pile of things we want to save.
I'm anxious to be able to see the basement floor again.
Come on over for sausage sandwiches May 17th!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
This and That
Still sore this morning, and still hitting the Tylenols. My sore shoulder woke me up and then kept me up for about two-hours last night. But after breaking down and taking some middle of the night Tylenols I was able to finally drift off. And it was the first time I was able to sleep on my left side without my right shoulder aching.
If this stuff doesn't clear up in a week or so, I'll probably call my oncologist and see what he makes of it all. I know once I mention it to him I lay some responsibility on his shoulders. To ensure he's being thorough he'll send me out for another CT or MRI scan. We'll see, I'm still hoping some of this stuff passes within the week.
It does look this morning as if Hillary is going to stay in the race to stir up trouble. Because it does not really look like she has a chance after primaries in Indiana and North Carolina. She pretty much needed to take both states and she didn't. Now she would have to surpass Obama in all remaining primaries by 20-percent margins - extremely unlikely.
It will be interesting to see how the Democrats smooth all of this out before convention time.
I didn't expect yesterday to turn into "bug day," but it did. We decided that we should treat a house that's 200-years old and constructed completely of wood.
I'm always a bit nervous when hiring this type of contractor. I learned throughout the day I have good reason to be nervous. I interviewed six different "bug guys" and about half seemed like scam artists to me.
One would only give me a price if he could inspect the house. We invited him by. He inspected very little. Instead he quickly wrote us up for a contract that involved $200 for an initial treatment and then a subscription of $45 a month.
Huh?
No way.
I may have been born at night . . . but it wasn't last night!
When I told him that I really didn't think this plan suited us he couldn't run for the door fast enough. Actually he went from being overly nice to us to suddenly treating us like we were the dumbest people on Earth for not taking interest in his absurd plan.
We did settle with someone who I suspected was a con, but who turned out to be quite amicable. Over the phone he also demanded access to our house for a free inspection. Trust me, nothing's free.
He said, "Oh, you live in Marietta. I have a lot of experience down there. There's a lot of termites."
I thought to myself, "This guy's just trying to set me up."
But he was genuine. He thought our place was in awesome shape. He found some evidence of wood boring beetles but knew it was probably 100-years old. He trailed some ants back to the colony (behind a fence post half-way down our yard) and he sprayed it while he was there at no charge.
This morning is the first morning we haven't see one ant in the kitchen.
I think we found our "bug guy."
Today Barb is taking her first steps towards a driver's permit - exciting stuff.
We're also going to pick-up her new glasses today. I talked her into some Jackie-O prescription sunglasses. I think they look great on her. But as long as she's happy, I'm happy.
If this stuff doesn't clear up in a week or so, I'll probably call my oncologist and see what he makes of it all. I know once I mention it to him I lay some responsibility on his shoulders. To ensure he's being thorough he'll send me out for another CT or MRI scan. We'll see, I'm still hoping some of this stuff passes within the week.
It does look this morning as if Hillary is going to stay in the race to stir up trouble. Because it does not really look like she has a chance after primaries in Indiana and North Carolina. She pretty much needed to take both states and she didn't. Now she would have to surpass Obama in all remaining primaries by 20-percent margins - extremely unlikely.
It will be interesting to see how the Democrats smooth all of this out before convention time.
I didn't expect yesterday to turn into "bug day," but it did. We decided that we should treat a house that's 200-years old and constructed completely of wood.
I'm always a bit nervous when hiring this type of contractor. I learned throughout the day I have good reason to be nervous. I interviewed six different "bug guys" and about half seemed like scam artists to me.
One would only give me a price if he could inspect the house. We invited him by. He inspected very little. Instead he quickly wrote us up for a contract that involved $200 for an initial treatment and then a subscription of $45 a month.
Huh?
No way.
I may have been born at night . . . but it wasn't last night!
When I told him that I really didn't think this plan suited us he couldn't run for the door fast enough. Actually he went from being overly nice to us to suddenly treating us like we were the dumbest people on Earth for not taking interest in his absurd plan.
We did settle with someone who I suspected was a con, but who turned out to be quite amicable. Over the phone he also demanded access to our house for a free inspection. Trust me, nothing's free.
He said, "Oh, you live in Marietta. I have a lot of experience down there. There's a lot of termites."
I thought to myself, "This guy's just trying to set me up."
But he was genuine. He thought our place was in awesome shape. He found some evidence of wood boring beetles but knew it was probably 100-years old. He trailed some ants back to the colony (behind a fence post half-way down our yard) and he sprayed it while he was there at no charge.
This morning is the first morning we haven't see one ant in the kitchen.
I think we found our "bug guy."
Today Barb is taking her first steps towards a driver's permit - exciting stuff.
We're also going to pick-up her new glasses today. I talked her into some Jackie-O prescription sunglasses. I think they look great on her. But as long as she's happy, I'm happy.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Wee Bit Stiff and Sore
I woke up feeling like I played left tackle in a Packers versus Bears game last night. My shoulder hurts. My mid-back is sore. My legs are stiff.
The shoulder started aching a couple days ago. I thought I strained it when I did a long stretch to place the bird feeder back onto the hook in the big oak tree. But as time went on it wasn't hurting or acting like a strain. First it didn't start hurting when I did it. It started hurting like an hour later. Plus it was aching arbitrarily, not with movement as I would expect.
My Mom suggested arthritis, and the pain is consistent with that type of thing. I do have a little arthritis in my shoulders and hips, and it does flare up every once in a great while in a random fashion.
Whatever it is, it has made sleeping difficult. It's not overwhelming pain. But it's like trying to sleep while someone is giving you a little shock every two seconds. You drift off. But since the pain constantly disturbs you, you can never fall into a healthy deep sleep.
Whatever it is, it is getting better.
My back is undoubtedly stiff and sore from an afternoon of cutting cardboard down for recycling.
I drown in cardboard. We order almost everything on the internet, and have it delivered. And it gets delivered in cardboard boxes that are broken down into approximately 12 by 12-inch pieces for recycling.
I can never keep up.
Yesterday it was so nice outside I set myself up on a lounge chair out back. I put a fresh razor in my utility knife and started hauling all of the cardboard out of the basement and surrounded my lounge chair with it.
I ended up cutting down cardboard for a couple hours. And I cleared it all out. It's now neatly packed into three small boxes for recycling tomorrow.
It was a couple hours of occasionally strange positions, using little-used muscles, and now today the back is feeling the success of my labor.
Despite the soreness and stiffness, when I was finishing up yesterday I told Barb, "You know, I really need to get out and do something like this everyday."
I've got some weeds in the backyard with my name on them today.
The shoulder started aching a couple days ago. I thought I strained it when I did a long stretch to place the bird feeder back onto the hook in the big oak tree. But as time went on it wasn't hurting or acting like a strain. First it didn't start hurting when I did it. It started hurting like an hour later. Plus it was aching arbitrarily, not with movement as I would expect.
My Mom suggested arthritis, and the pain is consistent with that type of thing. I do have a little arthritis in my shoulders and hips, and it does flare up every once in a great while in a random fashion.
Whatever it is, it has made sleeping difficult. It's not overwhelming pain. But it's like trying to sleep while someone is giving you a little shock every two seconds. You drift off. But since the pain constantly disturbs you, you can never fall into a healthy deep sleep.
Whatever it is, it is getting better.
My back is undoubtedly stiff and sore from an afternoon of cutting cardboard down for recycling.
I drown in cardboard. We order almost everything on the internet, and have it delivered. And it gets delivered in cardboard boxes that are broken down into approximately 12 by 12-inch pieces for recycling.
I can never keep up.
Yesterday it was so nice outside I set myself up on a lounge chair out back. I put a fresh razor in my utility knife and started hauling all of the cardboard out of the basement and surrounded my lounge chair with it.
I ended up cutting down cardboard for a couple hours. And I cleared it all out. It's now neatly packed into three small boxes for recycling tomorrow.
It was a couple hours of occasionally strange positions, using little-used muscles, and now today the back is feeling the success of my labor.
Despite the soreness and stiffness, when I was finishing up yesterday I told Barb, "You know, I really need to get out and do something like this everyday."
I've got some weeds in the backyard with my name on them today.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Humbled
I've never been much for any event that brings focus onto me.
I like being in the back row. Although the name "Albert" landed me in many first rows, first seats, in classrooms because of alphabetical order.
I'm 6'4". I stand out enough. I like hanging out in the back row. I like being a fly on the wall, and not the center of attention.
But regardless I'm very touched and thankful for everyone stopping over yesterday to sing "Happy Birthday to Me." I have two incredible families around me. A guy just couldn't be luckier.
It was fantastic to have family together enjoying my Mom's infamous "Boozy Chicken" and swapping stories. It was great to see the energies of one handicapped puppy and one big, bouncy two-year old.
It was humbling to see just what a fortunate person I am. Thank you everyone.
I like being in the back row. Although the name "Albert" landed me in many first rows, first seats, in classrooms because of alphabetical order.
I'm 6'4". I stand out enough. I like hanging out in the back row. I like being a fly on the wall, and not the center of attention.
But regardless I'm very touched and thankful for everyone stopping over yesterday to sing "Happy Birthday to Me." I have two incredible families around me. A guy just couldn't be luckier.
It was fantastic to have family together enjoying my Mom's infamous "Boozy Chicken" and swapping stories. It was great to see the energies of one handicapped puppy and one big, bouncy two-year old.
It was humbling to see just what a fortunate person I am. Thank you everyone.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Zzzzzzzz
Yesterday was one of those days when I was tired as soon as I woke up.
I'm starting to pinpoint the characteristics of oncoming chemo fatique, over just plain old regular tired. My body feels like it's dragging. My mind feels cloudy and thick. My speech may stutter or I may hesitate to get out the right word. It's signs of impending immense fatique.
Yesterday the signs were in place early on. But it was an errand day, and we had a lot to do.
We stopped at the bank. Then it was the gas station for a fill-up and a little reminder of the state of the economy. Barb got a fancy coffee drink, and off we went to the drug store for a couple more prescriptions to pick-up.
We were both feeling run down. I was concentrating on driving the peek-a-boo alleys of Mt. Joy. We left Mt. Joy and headed for the butcher in Elizabethtown.
Barb could tell I was getting exhausted. Typically she insists that I handle all of the ordering at the butcher. I know the language. I interact with the crew, make sure we get nice cuts of meat.
This trip she said she would take over the ordering. No argument from me. I was feeling tired, and I'm always urging her to let the crew at Groff's get to know her like they already know me.
By the time we were pulling from the butcher's parking lot I felt heavy fatique setting in. We had one stop left, the biggest of all, the dreaded grocery store. I knew I had to put my head down and get through it.
Being a Friday the store was a little crowded, but not nearly as bad as it can get.
I remember having enough energy in the fruit and vegetable section to pick myself out some strawberries, blueberries, and bananas (and it made quite the nice fruit cup for breakfast this morning).
After that, let's just say I'm glad I had the shopping cart to prop me up.
I remember Barb asking me if I wanted some of these, or some of those. And I, completely exhausted, just answered, "Nah."
By the time we reached the frozen foods I briefly considered laying down on the aisle in Giant and taking a little nap. Realizing that naps on the grocer's aisle are seriously frowned upon, I pushed on, only a few more aisles to go.
Barb and I have an understanding at the grocery store. She picks everything off the shelves and I pack them in the cart. I have a well-thought out, organized strategy for packing the cart in a way that will maximize storage space and get us through check-out smoothly, setting everything up perfectly for bagging.
I know. I know. I'm a blast at parties. LOL
With only a few aisles to go, I just started to say to Barb, "Go ahead and just throw it in the cart." This was a sure sign that I was not my normal self.
We lucked out and had a bag boy through check-out. Actually he was a bag-man, about 6'2", 260-pounds, 60-years old with big red suspenders. He recklessly through groceries together. But I had no energy to intervene.
We loaded up the FJ Cruiser. I sighed and said to Barb, "I'm so tired."
"I know," she said, with that expression that says she wishes she could wave a magic wand and make it all go away.
I cruised the FJ home along the beautiful back roads of Pennsylvania, by the chicken farms and through the freshly plowed cornfields.
I always unpack the car and haul all the groceries into the kitchen, while Barb works diligently to put all the groceries away. This time Barb helped me with the groceries. She could tell I was seriously dragging. My eyes were heavy. My walk was unsteady and drunken-like.
Once all the groceries were inside, Barb ushered me upstairs. I stole the "blankey" from Freckles who was using it as a pillow. The bed felt incredible. I climbed up under the blanket, and Freckles played the piano on it until he settle in beside me.
I fell asleep in minutes and woke up 3-hours later, feeling brand new once again. When chemo fatique calls, there is only one answer. (So far today is already starting much, much better.)
I'm starting to pinpoint the characteristics of oncoming chemo fatique, over just plain old regular tired. My body feels like it's dragging. My mind feels cloudy and thick. My speech may stutter or I may hesitate to get out the right word. It's signs of impending immense fatique.
Yesterday the signs were in place early on. But it was an errand day, and we had a lot to do.
We stopped at the bank. Then it was the gas station for a fill-up and a little reminder of the state of the economy. Barb got a fancy coffee drink, and off we went to the drug store for a couple more prescriptions to pick-up.
We were both feeling run down. I was concentrating on driving the peek-a-boo alleys of Mt. Joy. We left Mt. Joy and headed for the butcher in Elizabethtown.
Barb could tell I was getting exhausted. Typically she insists that I handle all of the ordering at the butcher. I know the language. I interact with the crew, make sure we get nice cuts of meat.
This trip she said she would take over the ordering. No argument from me. I was feeling tired, and I'm always urging her to let the crew at Groff's get to know her like they already know me.
By the time we were pulling from the butcher's parking lot I felt heavy fatique setting in. We had one stop left, the biggest of all, the dreaded grocery store. I knew I had to put my head down and get through it.
Being a Friday the store was a little crowded, but not nearly as bad as it can get.
I remember having enough energy in the fruit and vegetable section to pick myself out some strawberries, blueberries, and bananas (and it made quite the nice fruit cup for breakfast this morning).
After that, let's just say I'm glad I had the shopping cart to prop me up.
I remember Barb asking me if I wanted some of these, or some of those. And I, completely exhausted, just answered, "Nah."
By the time we reached the frozen foods I briefly considered laying down on the aisle in Giant and taking a little nap. Realizing that naps on the grocer's aisle are seriously frowned upon, I pushed on, only a few more aisles to go.
Barb and I have an understanding at the grocery store. She picks everything off the shelves and I pack them in the cart. I have a well-thought out, organized strategy for packing the cart in a way that will maximize storage space and get us through check-out smoothly, setting everything up perfectly for bagging.
I know. I know. I'm a blast at parties. LOL
With only a few aisles to go, I just started to say to Barb, "Go ahead and just throw it in the cart." This was a sure sign that I was not my normal self.
We lucked out and had a bag boy through check-out. Actually he was a bag-man, about 6'2", 260-pounds, 60-years old with big red suspenders. He recklessly through groceries together. But I had no energy to intervene.
We loaded up the FJ Cruiser. I sighed and said to Barb, "I'm so tired."
"I know," she said, with that expression that says she wishes she could wave a magic wand and make it all go away.
I cruised the FJ home along the beautiful back roads of Pennsylvania, by the chicken farms and through the freshly plowed cornfields.
I always unpack the car and haul all the groceries into the kitchen, while Barb works diligently to put all the groceries away. This time Barb helped me with the groceries. She could tell I was seriously dragging. My eyes were heavy. My walk was unsteady and drunken-like.
Once all the groceries were inside, Barb ushered me upstairs. I stole the "blankey" from Freckles who was using it as a pillow. The bed felt incredible. I climbed up under the blanket, and Freckles played the piano on it until he settle in beside me.
I fell asleep in minutes and woke up 3-hours later, feeling brand new once again. When chemo fatique calls, there is only one answer. (So far today is already starting much, much better.)
Friday, May 2, 2008
We're Under Attack
With Spring comes all the blossoms on the trees and all the beautiful flowers . . . and all of the bugs.
A colony of tiny, little, teenie weenie, pesky ants have invaded one counter of our kitchen. They visited for awhile last summer and we finally got rid of them. Now they're back.
We've set out traps. We've sprayed. We thought we had them on the run. But ants are tough critters, not to mention the fact that their colonies can number in the thousands.
They seem to really like the coffee pot. The coffee pot gives off moisture and usually creates a very small pool of water underneath it. The ants need soil, they need food, and they need moisture. We've worked hard at eliminating any single, tiny, little crumb. But they go straight for the coffee pot.
This morning I came downstairs and found about a dozen little ants running around the counter, and about a dozen more under the coffee pot.
The ants seem to think that it's some kind of resort spa.
"Hey, Fred," I imagine one saying to another. "Want to go upstairs to the hot springs? We can relax awhile and soak up some warmth."
When I picked up the coffee pot this morning it did seem like a little ant resort. A couple of the ants looked like they were swimming, others were just kicking back enjoying the scenery. It even looked like a little volleyball game had started along the northern side of the hot spring.
It all looked very relaxing and enjoyable, at least until the big guy grabbed the ant spray and a paper towel.
We hunt them all day long, whenever they appear. We thought they'd get the hint by now. They have to communicate in some way to conduct themselves so well in groups as they do.
The ants officially have been given 24-hours notice to get out. If not? Well we're going to bring in the big guns. This Spring we're definitely going to have the exterminator give the house a complete treatment.
With the beauty of Spring, the world coming to life before our eyes, comes both the goods and the bads, the balances of life, the Heavens and the Hells.
Life on Earth does seem to be about maintaining balances. But the weeds are still coming out of the yard. And the ants are still going to be driven out of the kitchen.
A colony of tiny, little, teenie weenie, pesky ants have invaded one counter of our kitchen. They visited for awhile last summer and we finally got rid of them. Now they're back.
We've set out traps. We've sprayed. We thought we had them on the run. But ants are tough critters, not to mention the fact that their colonies can number in the thousands.
They seem to really like the coffee pot. The coffee pot gives off moisture and usually creates a very small pool of water underneath it. The ants need soil, they need food, and they need moisture. We've worked hard at eliminating any single, tiny, little crumb. But they go straight for the coffee pot.
This morning I came downstairs and found about a dozen little ants running around the counter, and about a dozen more under the coffee pot.
The ants seem to think that it's some kind of resort spa.
"Hey, Fred," I imagine one saying to another. "Want to go upstairs to the hot springs? We can relax awhile and soak up some warmth."
When I picked up the coffee pot this morning it did seem like a little ant resort. A couple of the ants looked like they were swimming, others were just kicking back enjoying the scenery. It even looked like a little volleyball game had started along the northern side of the hot spring.
It all looked very relaxing and enjoyable, at least until the big guy grabbed the ant spray and a paper towel.
We hunt them all day long, whenever they appear. We thought they'd get the hint by now. They have to communicate in some way to conduct themselves so well in groups as they do.
The ants officially have been given 24-hours notice to get out. If not? Well we're going to bring in the big guns. This Spring we're definitely going to have the exterminator give the house a complete treatment.
With the beauty of Spring, the world coming to life before our eyes, comes both the goods and the bads, the balances of life, the Heavens and the Hells.
Life on Earth does seem to be about maintaining balances. But the weeds are still coming out of the yard. And the ants are still going to be driven out of the kitchen.
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