One of Those Days

Did you ever have one of those days? Well of course you have.

Yesterday some of our local workers that we regularly depend upon seem to have it in for us.

First our postman ripped our front screen door off. Sure, the door does stick a little. But you just wiggle it a bit and it opens right up. It's never been a problem . . . until now.

He must have been angry about something. He snapped the wood in the door in the right corner right off, precariously letting the glass inset of the door hang free.

The postman wrapped the mail in a rubber band, dropped it in the mess of the door, and took off.

I didn't really need the extra project. But if someone gives you lemons, go ahead and make lemonade. I always wanted to have an excuse to buy a hand planer. I think I'll try to stop and pick one up this morning so I can shave a little off the bottom of the door so it doesn't stick at all anymore. Pulling the right corner of the door back together might be a little tricky. But I think between some wood glue and a inconspicuous metal plate I can make the door postman proof again.

Our trash collectors are always interesting as well. What goes through their heads sometimes...I just don't know.

We had a big trash day yesterday. We had 14-bags of yard waste, two-bags of regular trash, one empty cardboard box, and an old dirty chair.

The chair required a $5 sticker to be picked up. We had that.

The yard waste bags each required a $1.25 sticker. We also had all of those.

The two-bags of trash and the empty box fell into our weekly stipend of trash allowed.

We worried that they wouldn't pick-up the chair. But there was no problem there.

We worried that maybe they wouldn't grab the 14-bags of yard waste. Nope, no problem there either, they picked it right up.

They left behind the empty cardboard box. It was the easiest, lightest, simplest thing of all to pick-up. And they had to work all around the box to get everything else.

Huh?

Barb called the borough to request that they come back to get it. We were assured that they would.

This morning the box is still out there.

LOL

Ripping off our front door. Leaving our garbage behind. Jeesh.

I know. I know. It's little stupid stuff that we all deal with everyday. All you can do is laugh, buy a planer, and add a new project to the list.

Roll With It

I was sitting in a medical center a few weeks ago, waiting to be called to have blood drawn for laboratory testing, when an older gentleman walked through the waiting area.

He was rolling down his sleeve, freshly picked by the needle himself.

The nurse offered him a few words of encouragement while he was leaving.

He turned around and said, "You know the strange thing is it's not the cancer that causes all the problems. It's the treatments."

Amen.

Well the cancer is what IS causing all the problems. But I knew exactly what he was talking about. The treatments for cancer are certainly harsh.

I have been on chemotherapy virtually continuously for more than two-years now. It's certainly been trying at times. But it does amaze me how the body can change, adapt and adjust.

It has required a total lifestyle adjustment, major changes. But with family and friends help I've somehow been able to keep rolling with the changes and adapting as necessary to endure.

Mixed with the chemotherapy has been the occasional radiation treatments, the invisible, deadly gas.

All of these things just add up, becoming part of the body's chemistry over time. I have a drawer and a shoe box filled with drugs I once took during this struggle. I could open a pharmacy. There are so many.

One thing I've learned over time is that less is more. The less drugs I can take the better. At first the doctor tried to help me out by prescribing medications to offset all of the chemo side effects. But it seems that every drug brings along its own side effects, and it all just builds and builds.

Over two-years of chemo I've noticed too that there is an escalating effect all of this has on the body. I have little complaints, like for example every now and then my vision will go blurry.

The first reaction is "Is it the cancer?"

But the conclusion is, no it's the treatments.

I just keep adapting. I just keep rolling with it. I just keep smiling.

Bad Brains

Without a doubt, the number one place you do not want to see your cancer spread is to the brain.

This week I'm facing some realities of my own brain predicament and trying to come through it like all the other challenges I've faced.

Over time I've been fortunate enough to surround myself with some terrific doctors. My family doctor has always been a champ, and has been there for important support around every curve. My current oncologist is extremely impressive and has become the champion of my cancer cause.

But I'm having difficulties this year with the cancer repeatedly showing up in the brain.

And I haven't felt real comfortable with the neurosurgeon who was leading the charge.

Both my family doctor and my oncologist recommended a different neurosurgeon. Yesterday Barb and I met with him for the very first time.

The neurosurgeon spent quite a bit of time with us. We discussed a lot of aspects of my situation, options, potential gameplans. We discussed everything. Barb and I both felt it went well.

Right now I have three very small "lesions" in different areas of the brain. All are very small, the largest measuring 2.5 millimeters in diameter at its largest point.

The doctor recommended that we wait 30-days, then do another MRI to analyze the situation from there. Are these three continuing to grow? Though unlikely, has the chemo had any effect on them at all? Are there any new ones?

The neurosurgeon felt that the Gamma Knife is there when we need it. But he didn't feel we needed to rush into it since my current lesions are so small, and at this point somewhat insignificant.

It all made sense to me. Barb and I were coming into this meeting thinking we'd leave with a schedule for Gamma Knife treatment. But I have been thinking that the Gamma Knife treatments were becoming too close together. I mean a Gamma Knife every month just is much too often.

I left the meeting feeling good. I will still have to have a big sit down discussion with my oncologist in the weeks to come. I may also have to tap into the latest drug information through the doc at the University of Pennsylvania.

But driving home from the neurosurgeon's office I felt like I had the right team around me.

That afternoon my former neurosurgeon's secretary called me to inquire into why I had decided not to return to see him. Then my former neurosurgeon himself called me.

I can respect the general nature of the call. Somehow he had gotten a copy of Friday's MRI of the brain and wanted to make sure that I was receiving the care I needed. That's very respectable.

But there was a nature to the call that I also found disturbing. It's still bothering me today. It felt like I was breaking up with a girlfriend.

He must have told me seven times that my new neurosurgeon was "just out of training." To me that showed being upset over losing businss to the competition. But that was part of the problem, I didn't really feel like as much of a patient as I felt like business, dollar signs.

He also was very negative towards my health prognosis.

I do realize that I have faced challenges, and have many challenges still to face. This kidney cancer is very serious and tough stuff.

But I don't need my doctors reminding me of that. I need my doctors ideas, efforts, and positive support.

This neurosurgeon bothered to tell me what a mistake I was making. How I should have Gamma Knife treatment right away and not wait. He blew me away.

Upon talking he basically told me that his plan was to do one or two more Gamma Knife treatments in quick succession and then basically give up. At that point he was willing to simply turn it over to chemotherapy.

I'm sorry. But giving up is just not going to be any part of my gameplans.

I, of course, was very calm and polite in speaking with this doctor. At one point it really felt like he was trying to pick a fight with me. I had to say to him, "I'm a passive, mellow guy. I don't ever want to get into arguments. I'm just looking for as many opinions and as much help as I can get.

It was all strange. On one hand, that was the most passion I've seen this doctor show towards my case since I started seeing him more than two-years ago. But on the other hand I feel that it's more because another doctor will be billing the $37,500 Gamma Knife radiation treatment.

(sigh) What a day.

Busy May, But Waiting on Today

Before 2009 there was only one neurosurgeon office in Lancaster County. My neurosurgeon was a former Army doctor, a good guy with an impressive resume. But I wasn't real comfortable in his care.

He had not been a great communicator, caused me some hardships with prescriptions, and finally made a recommendation that I knew could be flat out dangerous to my well-being.

Today Barb and I are off to meet a new neurosurgeon. A new office opened a few months ago and a doctor there has already gained the admiration of both my family doctor and my oncologist.

I'm sure I'm heading for another Gamma Knife radiation treatment to zap the three small tumors which were found in my brain last week. That will be the third Gamma Knife treatment so far this year. I don't have to tell you that is just too much.

I feel pretty confident about efforts and possibilities to control the cancer from the head down. The brain is a whole different animal.

With all our advances in medicine, we still do not understand the unique blood filter our brains' possess. So we cannot get chemotherapy to the brain. The options are limited.

Hopefully the chemo I'm currently on can squish the cancer into remission and stop the spreading to the brain.

I've been assured that the Gamma Knife can be repeated many times since it uses such precise, thin beams of high dosage radiation. But it can't be repeated forever. Once radiated areas of brain start intersecting the Gamma Knife will start causing more harm than good to healthy tissue.

Working closely with this new neurosurgeon, and my oncologist, on this predicament will be a major resolve of mine through May.

Today we should get a schedule for the planned Gamma Knife procedure, then we can start penciling everything else into place.

Next week work is planned to start on installing central air into this old house. Talk about an interesting project! I can't imagine trying to snake vents through nearly 200-years of additions and revisions, plaster and hand-cut logs. But we've got a good local team who really knows this town and its building history. They've got a great reputation.

Once we finished painting the front two living rooms we noticed that a couple pieces of our furniture were really tired and had to be replaced. We found a couple pieces we liked, at a price we liked, last week and ordered them. We'll be waiting for those pieces to arrive in May as well.

In the meantime I'm going to keep trying to live well, eat well, exercise and keep fighting.

'Ya Gotta' Love the Hammock

As promised, Barb and I jumped into the backyard yesterday and cleaned out the rest of the yard waste, finishing our final yard preparations for Spring.

Living in town, with a yard full of mature trees, creates a complex problem. There are branches and leaves and assorted debris. But where do you go with it all?

I have seen neighbors fill up a wheel barrel full of debris and run it across Front Street and the railroad tracks and dump the debris into the thin stretch of woods along the river. But that's not my style. I'm a straight shooter. The moment I would try something like that I would get caught.

So we use the huge biodegradeable paper bags that the borough distributes. We have around 15 bags full out back right now. The borough picks the yard waste up every other week throughout the summer.

When we first moved to Marietta this service was free. But this summer we have to buy stickers for $1.50 each, for every bag. I'm not too fond of this gameplan. I'll pay for my stickers. But you know lots of people will decide not to buy stickers. That will only lead to more illegal dumping or people just not cleaning up their properties.

When it comes to trash, recycling, yard waste, and all of that, I firmly believe that local governments should make it as easy and affordable for people in the interest of achieving a squeaky clean, neat town.

This past Fall I tired of bagging a couple dozen bags of leaves, carrying them up to the house to store until pick-up day, and then having to drag them all back out through the yard to the alley for collection.

I decided that I wasn't going to pick-up yard waste until the day before pick-up, and everything was going straight to the curb.

But then it rained, and rained and rained. We got stuck with all kinds of waste left in our yard over this past Winter.

It felt good yesterday to finally clear it all out. At times I was down on my hands and knees crawling through the planting beds, carefully pulling debris away from the hostas, the ferns, Barb's beloved bleeding heart bush.

It used to take me one afternoon to clean up the yard. Now it takes me three days.

Barb and I knocked it all out yesterday. Now we can focus on planting and nurturing rather than ripping and tossing.

I don't understand what it is about cancer and chemotherapy that wears a person out so drastically. I guess when you're fighting such a serious disease, your body laced with serious medicines, it just wears a body out.

By the time we were done in the yard yesterday I was exhausted, a good exhausted.

I plopped down in the hammock. It felt so good.

When you work really hard everything is better. Have you ever come in from a really hard, dirty, sweaty day of work and noticed how the shower felt better than ever before? How about a meal? How about a hammock?

A chair is just a chair, except to someone who has been on their feet all day.

Beautiful

Today is going to be one of those days. There are only so many days a year that we get a day like this one. It's going to be beautiful outside.

I'm planning on getting out in it.

I may not have any great plans. I may not have any elaborate plans. But I'll be outside, feeling the warmth of the sun soak over me.

Back before cancer came to town it took little effort for me to work through the yard. Well I shouldn't say "little" effort. But I could rip through all the yardwork in a couple of hours. Now I'm more on a schedule of a couple of days.

We've been slowly working to get this old place back in shape, and that includes the yard. When we first moved into this place the backyard pretty much looked like a junkyard.

I think my Mom said something like, "Ugh, just bulldoze it all and start again."

There used to be a one-car garage back against the alley. But we were told that it wasn't kept in shape and condemned by the borough. It evidently was pulled down sloppily because that area when we first moved in was littered with nails and screws and metal chunks of this and that. A couple flat tires and a lot of hard work eventually led to a respectable parking spot.

The yard has come a long way too. But I know for Barb and I it's not quite there yet.

We're trying to learn to accept the fact that our yard is covered in shade. It limits the types of plants we can introduce back here. But we have to look at from the perspective that shade helps cool off our property. Too many people try to clear trees because they do keep upkeep, lots of upkeep. But for the squirrels, for the birds, for us, it's all worth it.

I got a good start on the yardwork last week and I hope I can pretty much finish up today. The birdfeeder is full. The hammock is out. Anytime I need a break I can just plop into the hammock and watch the crazy little birdies jostle for position on the feeder.

It's going to be a beautiful day.

Wild 24-Hours

I snuck down for a nap Wednesday just after lunch. When I woke up an hour later I had a terrible headache. It was excruciating and reminded me of the old stress-related migraines I used to come down with years and years and years ago.

Barb suggested we call the oncologist's office and pass this news along.

Usually I expect up and down days, and typically I enjoy the up days and ride out the down. But I did feel especially lousy. I even ended up getting sick to my stomach, breaking a streat that had stood for more than two decades.

There were several factors at work here. Barb did have a bad sinus infection. I had recently cut off my steroid completely. And it's always a possibility at any time for cancer to show itself in the brain.

My oncologist ordered an immediate MRI "STAT!" And he also asked me to take five .75 mg steroid pills immediately. I took the steroids. In conjuction with the oncologist's office we worked out the first best time for the MRI - 5:45 a.m. this morning. Whew.

I didn't know exactly how I would feel this morning when I woke up. So yesterday we arranged with Barb's mother Susan to come pick us up and run us into downtown lancaster for the MRI.

Thank you Susan. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We hate to put such a burden on those who mean the most to us. You guys just always come through. It can bring a little tear to my eye.

From the navigator's seat I misled Susan many times diving in an out of one way streets in downtown Lancaster. We finally ended up on Lime Street headed for Parking Lot C.

We went into the Radiology Department but everything was locked up and closed. Hmmmph.

We started looking around a little frantacally when I bumped into a large, older bus driver. He was the nicest, kindest, sweetest man. He led me outside, around the corner, and there the hospital had a 24-hour entrance for MRI scans guarded by a security guard.

"Just wave to him and let him know you're a patient he'll let you right in," said the kind bus driver.

I trotted back to get Barb and Susan and we completed our whacky journey going from outside to inside back outside again and then finally in the office.

I think part of the charm of Lancaster is how it continues to grow across so many years. There are streets that seemingly go nowhere, others that start east and end up going north, and others that will suddenly split into four or five more options. We called those five-pointers in Philly.

The return home was smooth, quite enjoyable. It wasn't even 7:30 a.m. yet and we were enjoying the sun rising over Central Pennsylvania. What a day this is going to be! I might get all worked up and mow the lawn!

Since Barb and I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning, around 11 a.m. I looked for a quick little power nap to launch me into the afternoon. Barb woke me up though just a couple minutes after I had started snoring.

It was the oncologist. He had gotten the MRI already. Everything looked good, except three tiny dots, and he emphasized tiny. We're going to hit those dots again with the Gamma Knife radiation. The Gamma Knife can be used over and over again as long as the doctors are careful not to double dose any areas with radiation. That could cause serious damage.

The brain is quickly becoming the real battleground. Between the neck and the toes the docs and I have been able to handle everything that is presenting itself. In the brain though, because the brain has its own blood filter that operates seperately from the rest of the body, chemo is uneffective in the brain.

I know there is one chemotherapy drug named Avastin that has shown some success in operating in the brain. But right now it is being tested for the most popular cancers, i.e. breast, prostrate, colon.

There are somewhere around 500 clinical trials open right now to test new drugs in controlled study groups. A clinical trial can always become a possibility. But in a clinical trial you never know whether you're getting the drug or the placebo.

They say that tumors form in the areas of the body that have the highest bloodfloow and general circulation, which is typically the lungs and the kidney.

Now what does that tell you about the size of my head?!?!?!? I never said I was smart. But I have said that I have a HUGE, GIGNORMOUS skull. Why do you think I try to grow all this hair? So I can disguise some of this giant head! lol

All That Stuff

This morning I'm taking Barb to see our family doctor. She's had a head cold since Thursday and we're working under orders from her Mom to get to the doctor if she still doesn't feel right by today.

It's been your typical head cold, but without antibiotics she might not be able to beat it. And it has strung along now long enough.

It's quite a switch for me to play the supporting role to my spouse at the doctor's office. It's usually the other way around with Barb supporting me. I'm going to make sure to keep the focus on Barb, and not allow this to turn into my appointment. Our family doctor is terrific and I'm sure he'll handle us both in there at once very well.

I'm feeling a little better this morning than I had the past two-days. I'm trying to figure out the magic formula of diet, exercise, activity, and medicines that will get me through each day in the best form. It's tough balancing out all of these very strong drugs, each which has the strength to completely alter your body chemistry. I don't think my body is too fond of all of the constant changes and evolutions it's asked to go through as well.

It's a rollercoaster ride. And I'm not a big rollercoaster fan, especially if there are loops. When you're 6-foot four-inches tall, you don't do loops, or flips, or circles. It's just not a good mix.

My Dad just wants to break out of Spang Crest and go home. His physical condition continues to improve. The doctor now believes, based on a recent scan of his brain, that he may have had a second small stroke in the same location of his first small stroke two-years ago. They're trying to look iinto the causes behind his increased confusion and dementia.

The doctor has also stated that my Dad should stay in supervised care for a number of weeks yet before going back home. He's not the only one who wants him to be home. We all want him to be able to return home. Everyone is doing everything we can to try to help him get there.

So, if anyone is driving along Route 422 and happens to see a man in a wheelchair that looks like my father, wheeling himself in the direction of Myerstown, please stop and pick him up and return him to Spang Crest.

His urge to return home is strong. I can't blame him. I'd feel the same way.

We just have to make him understand the goals that must be achieved for him to be able to get back home. Then hopefully get him focused on achieving those goals. I'm confident he can obtain those goals if he can truly understand what they are.

Here We Go Again

With the chemo that I've been on since January, it's four-weeks on chemo and two-weeks off. Then it's four-weeks on, and two-weeks off. Then it's four-weeks on, and two-weeks off. Well...you get the picture.

Yesterday was day one back on the chemo. I also stopped taking the steroid completely late last week. I can tell today my body is going through some adjustments.

I've been stiff, sore, sick, and just plain old exhausted virtually all day today. The doctor gave me some pills for the nausea. They work, kind of, a little. My appetite is gone and my stomach is sour and I'm sure it's just a matter of time before all the weight I gained is again lost.

He also prescribed me Ritalin. Yes, that drug that is used to settle overactive kids down. This really blew my mind but he explained to me that Ritalin works the opposite on adults as it does on kids.

Did everyone know this but me?

Well the Ritalin does give me a little, boost of energy, kind of, a little, for an hour or two.

The frustrations with my health insurance provider have never ceased. If anyone else ran their business like they do, they wouldn't be in business. I would sum up their business philosophy like this - just hold a gun to his head every month and demand money.

My monthly premiums alone have doubled in less than three-years. Everything you hear about what health insurance shouldn't be - they are.

Last time my Mom saw me the first words out of her mouth were, "You need a haircut!"

Well I got one this morning Mom. I think you'll approve.

I now have a purple mohawk with orange streaks through it. It was Charlie's idea.

LOL - Just kidding.

Since we already traveled that far over into York County we decided to stop in and bother Alyssa at work. I walked past her four times and she never noticed me. Then I stood virtually right beside her for about 30-seconds before she finally flinched, saw me, and smiled.

I got to give her this, she was really focused on the clients she was working with.

After getting my hair cut by Charlie, and pestering Alyssa while she was trying to work, we drove a few blocks further and stopped in at another furniture store.

This was our fifth stop at a furniture store in our ongoing pursuit to replace some really dated and worn furniture. This time we saw some deals we couldn't refuse and actually made a purchase. It amazes me how large of a price range there is on furniture. My philosophy has always been, throw out the high price, throw out the low price, and start working with the prices in the middle.

I may have been born at night. But it wasn't last night.

We found a great, over-sized, over-stuffed, leather club chair for $250. And we laughed hysterically as we left a store whose average price for the same type chair was $3,000.

Trading Places

Through my fight against cancer Barb has just been incredible at taking care of me. She's been my angel.

Over the weekend Barb developed a pretty nasty head cold. She's all sniffly. It's the first time Barb has ever gotten sick since I've known her. She just doesn't get sick.

Now it's my turn to take care of her. It's a welcome switch of roles. I'm very much in her debt. It's time for me to pay some of my dues.

If she doesn't start kicking this cold by Wednesday I'm taking her to the doctor.

My Mom has certainly become the caregiver to my Dad. He's doing pretty well and seems to be getting better and better. But he's impatient. He doesn't want to be at Spang Crest and desperately wants to go home.

To an extent I do understand. Actually I think I'd feel the exact same way. He's in an environment he's not used to, surrounded by people he does not know, eating food that is different to him. He wants to be back home where he is comfortable. That's what puts the "home" in the home.

In talking to my Mom everyday I'm always trying to figure out how he's doing at the essentials: eating; going to the bathroom; getting himself around.

The nurses at the facility have his bed, his wheelchair, and any furniture in his room fixed with alarms. If he tries to get up on his own the alarm sounds and nurses come running. They originally hooked up these alarms because they were afraid that he may fall.

Now, my Mom told me, the alarms are still in place primarily because my Dad has been trying to make a bee-line to the elevator.

"The elevator?" I asked. "Where does he think he's going to go?"

He tells the nurses that he's going home, my Mom said. He tells them that he's supposed to meet me out front because I'm taking him home.

Everyone wants him home too. Although we know he needs to continue to build his strength and continue to progress with his healing. He just needs to be a little patient, as difficult as that may be.

Please bear with me as I try to work with my second blog, which you can view by clicking on the link in the column at left. I'm finally digging into some of the code that drives this Google blog and trying to take advantage of some of the opportunites. There will be some trial and error.

I am running Google ads on my second blog which earn me a few nickels when someone clicks on the ads. I also have placed a Google search engine on the page which also can earn me a couple nickels here and there.

I'm certainly not going to become the richest guy in Marietta off any of this stuff. But I do find the evolving concepts driving the internet interesting, and those nickels can help pay for my many medical costs.

I do find it interesting that we're reaching a stage where everyone can be their own publisher. It's been something I've been predicting when the internet first evolved from the old local BBS (bulletin board systems) that originally brought people together through the computer.

Little Stiff and Sore

I woke up this morning and my thighs felt like they did at the end of a soccer match, thick and heavy and stiff.

It was a beautiful day yesterday and I spent the day in the yard, raking up leaves and debris, pulling up early weeds, brushing off the decks, and grooming the soil.

This morning I'm feeling the effects from all the physical activity. I try to exercise pretty regularly. But obviously I've got a litte way to go.

This kind of stiffness and soreness I'm used to though, and I consider it a good thing. It just tells me I'm being active and keeping muscles in condition. I'm sure as I get moving around today the muscles will loosen up.

I have started a second blog. The blog is mainly a place for me to post some of my favorite stories. I've always been a fan of good story-telling.

My blog will just contain my stories, maybe a little artwork now and then, and certainly the occasional photo. I'll pull some stories from this blog and add some more. I'm just getting started with it, so please bear with me.

The new blog can be found at jimalbertamericanmade.blogspot.com. Or you can click on the link in the left column of this page "American Made - A Collection of My Favorite Stories."

On this blog I intend to also try out the Google advertising program where I earn a little bit of money everytime someone clicks on an ad. The internet is certainly advancing at blistering speeds, and new things are developing constantly. Google's advertising program is pretty interesting. They "crawl" the content of your blog and match advertising up that is of similar subject matters. We'll see how that goes.

Imagine everyone having a Web site someday soon. I could have a link to a web cam on my site that would alert people to when I'm at my desk and available. Family members, friends, or clients could pull me up on their screen and we could video conference.

Whatever you can imagine...it's coming.

I had a science fiction class in college and it amazes me how many things from all of those novels we studied have already come true.

Digging in the Dirt

It was beautiful yesterday and I got myself outside to play in the dirt. One thing that struck me as I was pulling weeds and cleaning debris was the smell of the dirt.

Now I know that might sound odd, but dirt does have a distinctive odor. And odors do tend to be a memory trigger. Memories came flooding back to me, from digging in the dirt as a kid through planting and landcscaping the backyard here in Marietta.

Barbie came down with a head cold the past two days, which is a rare event for her. It seems like I'm catching it waking up this morning.

We share everything.

Sharing, I believe, works in Barb's advantage because she can steal my clothing. Her clothing doesn't quite fit me, nor does it really look quite right on me.

But Barb does look better in my clothing than I do. So...

I took a couple cold pills this morning and they do seem to be drying me up. So, I do intend on getting back out into the yard again today. It's supposed to be even nicer today than yesterday.

I'll have to take advantage, and get back to digging in the dirt. It's tough to keep up with Mother Nature. There's always something to do in the yard.

Woohoo! It's going to be in the 70s!

No, no, no, not the 1970s. Lord knows I had enough of the Bee Gees and disco the first time around.

It's going to be over 70-degrees today here in Marietta, and not a cloud in the sky.

I should take a walk. I'd love to take a bike ride but my balance isn't there yet to pull that off (fun chemo side-effect).

But I have to still clear the yard of dead stuff, and debris, left over from last season. But I'll be happy to do that. I'll be happy just to be outside.

Part of living in a city or a town is that there really is no place to go with all the yard waste. The borough gives out these big paper bags and collects yard waste every other week, but at a cost. We have to purchase stickers to place on the bags.

The bags are super tough and withstand the elements fairly well. But the bags are made to safely decompose back into the earth with all the contents too. At least it's very environmentally friendly.

My Dad always had a barrel which he burned trash in, everything that would burn. There was a brush pile too. With seven acres out in the country he could get away with that, and with seven acres he had a lot more branches and leaves and miscellaneous plants to deal with also.

I still have a brown thumb and kill about 50-percent of the plants that I plant. Everything that was here when we bought the house is thriving...well except the grass. The lawn recedes a little bit more every year.

As much as I would love a nice lawn, with all of our trees and all of the nice shade in our yard, I'm thinking about just conceding to nature and planning plantings in tune with the surroundings. You just can't fight Mother Nature.

From the dirt everything arises, and back to the dirt everything will eventually return.

I should get the hammock out today. If I get a little tired working in the yard, I can just take a little nap in the hammock, falling alseep watching the birds hit the feeder.

My Dad was doing well again yesterday, more of the same, according to my Mom. That, of course, is welcome and good news.

I'm feeling a little stronger myself today. The pain of the day is located below the right shoulder blade. After a day of yardwork I might earn a couple sore spots by tomorrow. But that's all part of growing older too, or so I'm told.

You Never Know

One thing I've learned on my cancer and chemotherapy journey is that I never know what kind of day I'm going to have until that morning when I wake up.

It's completely random. One day I'll feel good and be full of energy. The next day I can barely get my butt out of the La-Z-Boy.

It makes planning impossible. I try my best to be organized and keep up with a schedule. I think I do pretty well with getting things done, all things condsidered. I just never know whether I'm going to feel good while doing what I've planned, or feel lousy.

Today was one of those feeling lousy days. I felt lousy pretty much from the time I woke up. It's a typical feeling lousy day. I'm incredibly fatiqued, both physically and mentally. And my stomach is riding the rollercoaster, feeling lousy and quenching any appetite I might typically have.

Cancer and chemotherapy are crazy. Along with the feeling different everyday aspect, I seem to have a different spot on the body, anywhere from head to toe, that will be sore everyday. Everyday it is a different spot on the body. It can be the side of my head. It can be the sole of my foot. Today it was my left calf.

(shrugging shoulders)

To top things off this morning my eyes went "wonka" for about an hour this morning. It happens occasionally, primarily right after I get out of the shower. When my eyes go "wonka" everything is blurred and my eyes become very light-sensitive.

Just another one of the benefits of cancer and chemo.

No matter how poor I felt today, there were things I just had to get done with Barb. We skipped our planned trips to the butcher and the grocery store yesterday because the weather was so miserable. Today it just had to get done no matter what.

Fortunately Barb bought me a sweet stick (a stick of smoked sweet bologna) at Groff's and that boosted my energy enough to get through the grocery store. The store was full of insane people as usual. But we made it through with out too much trauma.

Barb had a sweet stick too.

We had a local guy in to plan his install of central air in this old house. I try to work with local folks as much as humanly possible. I really do believe in the village concept and want to support that concept. And when you're working with someone local, you know that they want to keep up their local image.

The central air is just plan necessary. I can't do the five or six window air conditioners anymore, or beg someone else to do it for me. Plus the window units are noisey and unproductive, freezing one area while missing others. The central air should be more efficient on electric costs as well.

We'll see. Work will start in two-weeks. We'll roll the dice and see how I'm feeling by then, could be great, could be lousy. 'Ya never know.

Looking Good, Feeling Better

Barb and I took a rainy trip over to Lebanon yesterday to visit my Mom and Dad at Spang Crest. We took the elevator to the second floor and one step out the door - BAM - there they were, my Dad in a wheelchair and my Mom standing just behind him.

My Dad looked good. The reports are that he is doing well. He sure looked better than the last time Barb and I saw him.

All the tubes are gone. He's eating real, solid food. He's not feeling any pain. He's smiling. With help from the nurses he's getting into the wheelchair. Without help from anyone he's wheeling himself up and down the hallways.

I have to rely on reports because every question I asked him yesterday he looked to my Mom for the answer.

I asked him "How do you feel?" Now that's a tough question to turn over to someone else. But I understand, he's still a little shell-shocked from this whole experience.

This has been very tough on my parents. But with grace they're both enduring and tredging forward with strength and conviction no matter how slow the pace may seem at times. They are strong people that I admire greatly, although I'm sure they'd be the first to deny that.

It's another rainy, drizzly, cold, raw Spring day in Marietta. But there are three days of sunshine in the forecast. Yardwork here I come.

Now What?

I really wanted to get out in the yard yesterday. I don't know why. I guess I feel Spring coming on. The trees are budding. The flowers are sprouting. The birds are swirling from tree to tree in the backyard.

But it was too darn cold. Cold enough to get the nose running after 10 minutes working outside. It was a bright, sun-shiney day. But too cold.

Today is going to be wet, damp, rainy and cold. Tomorrow will be more of the same. It looks like Thursday will be the day for me to get out there and clean up the yard.

Barb and I are going to take advantage of the rain to travel. We're off to visit with my Dad today. We've gotten up and down reports. From eating well to not eating well, from feeling pain to feeling no pain, from being in good spirits to feeling low, the reports have really run the gamut.

If we have time after visiting with my Dad, Barb and I are going to hit some furniture stores.

I already have my line prepared for when the salesperson attacks us.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," I'll answer with a big smile. "I'm looking for a great deal."

It will take awhile to convince the salesperson that I am serious and I am willing to walk out empty handed before we're shown the best bargains. But it's worth it. I'm pretty darn happy with the big, overstuffed club chair we found for cheap.

An old friend passed away yesterday - Harry Kalas, the long-time announcer for the Phillies. Of course I have never even met Harry, but he sure seems like a long-time friend nonetheless.

I know that he wasn't looking too good as of late. Even last year I was wondering if it was time to retire. But then I knew that Harry loved what he did so much that he would probably never retire. I assumed he would pass away at the ballpark someday. That's exactly what happened yesterday.

I listened to Harry my entire life. Growing up I would fall asleep many, many summer nights to Harry and Richie Ashburn calling the Phillies' games on the radio. We've lost a handful of great announcers in recent years. But in my opinion none was as great as Harry.

"IT'S OUTTA' HERE! MICHAEL JACK SCHMIDT WITH A TOWERING HOME RUN!"

He is Risen

We celebrated Easter here in Marietta yesterday surrounded by lots of family. Barb and I enjoyed it tremendously. We hope everyone else did as well.

We celebrate Easter in Marietta because we have the ham connection, incredible smokey goodness.

We also celebrated with the greatest gift of all, His only son and the promise of eternal life and forgiveness of our sins.

Our hearts and minds were with those who could not join us. I know that it did not seem right with my father not in attendance. He did celebrate Easter at Spang Crest in Lebanon where he is rehabilitating. I know we both thought of a couple grandmothers we're used to having with us as well.

One side-effect I enjoy, is the fact that hosting Easter forces us into a Spring cleaning. It's still an old, eccentric house. But the painting is done. The curtains are hung. The house is looking spiffy and clean.

Now I just have to get out in the yard.

I have such a "brown" thumb.

Oops

I would like to apologize to everyone who reads the blog. I don't know what I was thinking.

As soon as I put Google's ads up on my blog yesterday I had regrets. That's not what this blog is for, it's not true to the original intent.

This blog is strictly for family and friends, to keep everyone updated on my continued fight against cancer. It's not meant to be a commercial enterprise.

Possibly the blog could have co-existed with the ads had the ads been more tasteful. But since they were all ads for lawyers looking for clients, they definitely had to go.

My sincere apologies to everyone. I don't know what I was thinking.

I do find Google's technique here intriquing. Once you sign up for their advertising program they "crawl" your site and then match advertisers to your subject matter. Since my blog is so often health related, my blog received ads from lawyers looking for people who felt they were mistreated by the health care system. I do not feel comfortable being an advertising vehicle for greedy attorneys though.

If I blogged about cars my blog would apparently get advertisements relating to cars. If I blogged about the salt marsh harvest mouse my blog would apparently get advertisments on pest control.

I may start a second blog, just for story telling, and that may be suitable for this new Google venture.

But it's not for this blog. I have no intention on capitalizing on my struggles. For those who happened to see the ads in the brief hour that they were posted, please accept my apologies.

Quick Notes

It was great to see my cousin Lynn yesterday. We met for breakfast at a little diner just north of Marietta. A big thank you to Lynn for taking time out to get together with us.

Lynn was up from Florida to visit her grandkids. I still have a hard time picturing Lynn as a grandma. But time keeps creeping away on us.

We do miss seeing all of our family and friends in Florida.

After hashbrowns and a slice of breakfast ham, I took a nap. Lately it seems like I'm on an every other day schedule. One-day I have good energy, the next day I just want to sleep.

Barb's parents came to the rescue yesterday and took Barb for Easter dinner groceries while I napped.

It is official. The Easter ham from Groff's the butcher is in the house.

Can't you smell it?

Barb's Mom told me that they should sell little smoked hams for people to hang in their kitchens, or anywhere throughout their homes. It smells so good! Just wait until we fill the house with the smell of cooking it slowly for seven-hours on Sunday.

We are planning an Easter get-together with at least 15 family members planning to join us. Barb and I are really looking forward to having everyone together.

It seems like every project I start lately balloons into much more than I originally intended. I'm sure you know what I mean. We've all been there.

One of those projects was working to change the layout of the blog. Since Google took over this blog they've begun offering bloggers the chance to earn a little bit of cash by allowing ads on their blogs - as you may notice.

I don't know how all of this is going to work out. It may not work out at all. I already don't like the way it looks. But we'll see.

I'm thinking of changing the overall layout of the blog so the ads don't look so awkward. But there it goes again - another "simple" project that is ballooning into something more.

Google does not reveal how much money my blog may earn, if any. I believe that I might earn a couple cents everytime someone clicks on an ad. Soooooo...I guess when you exit the blog if you click on an ad before you go somewhere else, great. If not, then that works to.

Like I said I don't even know if this will work out. It's something for me to play with the next couple months and then I'll reevaluate it.

Off to the oncologist today, and I have to get my list of questions together for discussion.

More Good Than Bad

I received Monday's CT scan results this afternoon and overall I think there is much more good than bad.

Compared to January's scan, here's the quick rundown as I interpret the radiologist's report. I'll discuss it all with the doc tomorrow.

The scan is of the chest, abdomen and pelvis.

Last scan my chest showed numerous "lesions" throughout both lungs. When I asked the oncologist then how many there were, he said in disbelief, "You want me to count?" That meant there were a lot.

Now the scan is showing that the lungs have both all cleared, with the exception of just two spots. Both of these spots are small but have increased in size slightly.

The growth in the thyroid gland has not disappeared but it has shrunk in size.

The growth in the kidney has completely disappeared.

The two growths in the liver have both shrunk in size.

Overall, that's some pretty good news!

But this is kidney cancer. There's always some ups and downs, a little roller coaster ride.

The report did claim that the "soft tissue mass" in the bone of my right hip has enlarged slightly.

Also two lymph nodes in my chest have become "involved," but they're not ginormous in size or anything.

I'll get my questions together and meet with the oncologist tomorrow and take it from there. It seems to me that the Sutent is working so far, and we'll just continue on more of the same chemo.

That's the latest from here...

One at a Time

Recovering from an injury or an illness does never move in a straight line. There are ups and there are downs. Generally speaking you look for two steps forward and one step backwards. As long as you're making progress you're on target.

My Dad is settled into Spang Crest in Lebanon right now. He was a bit grouchy and solemn on Sunday, according to my Mom. But he turned it all around yesterday. He even went for a walk down the hallway, which is a big step in the right direction.

The nurse said that my Dad didn't want anything to do with a breakfast she delivered. But when she returned, it was all gone.

He told my Mom that he wants to go home. That's another good sign.

He asked her if she would take care of him.

"Of course I will," she answered.

My Mom said that he was smiling and laughing a lot yesterday. Monday was a step forward.

Meanwhile I was taking a step backward yesterday. Between the CT prep drink, the CT dye that is injected, the chemo, and the steroid, a war erupted through my entire digestive system. These drugs all together obviously didn't get along.

This morning things do seem to be settling down. It seems as if a cease fire is in place and I'm mainly just feeling stiff and sore from yesterday's battleground.

As in any delicate cease fire I'm trying to keep a close eye on things today to make sure the cease fire holds.

My Mom has told me that my Dad and I are not allowed to have bad days at the same time. We have to take turns. She can only handle one at a time, she said with a laugh.

That seems like a logical request. I'll do my very best to oblige.

Napathon Monday

I woke up this morning at 5 a.m. to find my stomach rumbling.

I had to get through my shower by 6 a.m. so I could start drinking the thick, chalkie, rather disgusting, prep liquid necessary before my 8 a.m. CT scan. I'm not allowed to eat anything and I can only drink clear liquids. The two bottles of CT prep "Vanilla Smoothie" have to be drunk half a bottle per 30-minutes over two hours, right up until scan time.

The "Vanilla Smoothie" did not help the stomach any.

I have not gotten sick to my stomach for more than two decades. I thought that this morning the streak would come to an end. But I made it through.

Today I'm just feeling rough and very tired.

Thankfully the CT scan went off on time, and without a hitch. We were back home quickly. I went back to bed.

I was hoping a nap would give me a second chance at a fresh start to the day. But I woke up feeling pretty much the same. I'm tired. My stomach is still in full revolt (common after two bottle of CT prep). And the day outside is very gray, and rainy, and dreary.

Barb claimed the day as an official "Napathon Monday."

That sounds like a plan to me.

Sporting Weekend

It seems as though it is a "Sporting Weekend." Events such as soccer, college basketball and my personal favorite "Baseball," the sign of baseball tells me that the warmer weather is almost here to stay.

I never have as much to say in a blog as Jim does, but our prayers go out to his father, Jamie's brother Rob and all others that are in need of prayer right now.

Jim and I have been active within the house lately between the painting, cleaning the wood floors, cleaning the carpet etc., it keeps one busy in a good way.

We certainly hope that everyone has a great weekend, it's hard to believe that Easter is next weekend.

Down the Road

My Dad was successfully transfered to Spang Crest Manor in Lebanon yesterday. Spang Crest positions itself as a nursing facility that specializes in physical rehabilitation and "memory assisted living."

That's just what my father needs.

Plus it's closer for my Mom to travel to every day, in Lebanon rather than Hershey.

My Mother feels that after 30- to 60-days of good rehab, Paul may be able to get back home again. Here's hoping.

When the pastor asked him about his home the other day at Hershey Medical Center, he did remember buying the land, planning and building the house, very specific things.

I still think we should cover his room with "memory joggers" - pictures, items he's familiar with, everything and anything that means something to him, and his life thus far.

Plus those rooms do need some decorating to make it more comfortable.

Now I Understand

It's taken me 20-years but I think I finally figured out a mystery from my past.

Twenty-years ago I was a staff writer for the Lebanon Daily News. I learned that one of three county commissioners was being paid by a developer to vote in favor of their development plans. He was on the take.

The development plans hinged on the county building an airport at the development site, just west of Annville. The plans were overwhelmingly opposed by residents throughout the county, mainly because it involved high density housing and destruction of acres and acres of farmland.

I was pretty fresh out of college where I earned a degree in journalism. My head was filled with the promises of the news being the "fourth estate." I was too green to realize that the news was a business, and had little to do with fair and honest reporting of facts.

When I first brought this serious news story of one of our county commissioners being bribed for his vote to the newspaper editors they told me they did not want to run the story. I was shocked. I was floored.

I had all the facts. I had at least two sources for every bit of information. I thought this was one of the most serious offenses by one of the highest level officials in the county. And the paper didn't want to run the story?

I couldn't believe it.

Of course I complained. Of course I asked for a reason why. But it led nowhere, not even to an explanation.

I know they had a veteran reporter check out all of my facts. Everything in my story checked out. This county commissioner was on the take. He was as crooked as crooked gets.

The morning the vote was due to be taken by the county commissioners, as I walked into the newsroom, the city editor yelled out at me, "Albert! How about forwarding that story to me. We're going to run with it."

The story ran in that morning's edition. The crooked county commissioner had to abstain from voting. The vote failed. The developers went away. The people in Lebanon County rejoiced.

The crooked county commissioner, a powerful, wealthy attorney, was furious with me.

I've always believed in truth and honesty. Some people might say that I'm too honest. But I have to look myself in the mirror every morning.

A few weeks or months after this event, the managing editor called me into his office. He also called the assistant city editor into his office as well. The managing editor accused me of making a mistake on my gas expense account. He said that I claimed that Annville was six miles away and he told me it was only five miles away.

I remember back then that gas was reimbursed at 19-cents a mile. I was shocked. I was getting yelled at over 19-cents? Actually, adding up all of my miles to Annville on that weekly expense report I think the total being disputed was somewhere around $2. I offered to give the $2 back.

I remember wondering why the assistant city editor was there. Then she started crying I mean really sobbing.

How strange!

Then suddenly the managing editor told me that he saw me curse him under my breath.

??????????????

Then I was fired.

I had enough of working for this guy. He was really a clown. He used to write blistering editorials like "We here at the Daily News really enjoy sunshine, and thoroughly support it."

I gladly gathered my stuff and left. Then immediately I began writing for the Patriot-News in Harrisburg. As I left the assistant city editor cried uncontrollably.

I've always thought this was so strange, so bizzare. First of all, I have never been one to swear. Can anyone ever remember hearing me swear? I just don't find it necessary and never have.

Second of all, who gets fired over a disagreement of $2 in gas expenses?

Telling Barb this story the other week, now in this environment surrounded by corruption everywhere in this country, it finally hit me.

The county commissioner whose corruption I exposed paid the managing editor of the paper to get rid of me.

I wondered why our experienced county reporter wanted nothing to do with this story.

I don't have any proof. But I've got very, very strong suspicions.

If that kind of corruption goes on in little old Lebanon County, just imagine what goes on at the much bigger levels.

Staying Busy

The last few days a rash started breaking out on my face. I figured it may have come from me cleaning up the backyard or possibly from sorting through some window hardware down in our basement. And I figured it would pass.

But it seemed to be spreading. So yesterday I had enough and placed a call into my oncologist's office. He called me around dinner time yesterday and asked me a couple dozen questions. He concluded that the chemo I'm on was causing the rash since I had stopped taking the steroid.

The doctor recommended that I start taking the steroid again, at a minimum level. He expected that the steroid would start managing the chemo side-effects again like it had previously, also helping the fatigue, the nausea, the sensitivity in the hands and feet, all of the wonderful chemo side-effects.

He did not feel that the Decadron steroid would have a negative effect on the effectiveness of the Sutent chemotherapy.

I'm going to give it a whirl and hope for the best.

Today Barb and I are off to meet with the neurosurgeon. We really don't expect much from this appointment. It's just to ensure that I am actually recovering from radiation treatments to the brain, and I certainly am.

Radiation to the brain is a rough go. It left me tired, foggy, dizzy, and uncoordinated. I'm very clear in the head now. It was a slow evolving process but everything healed well. I still do not have the coordination I once had. I was pretty smooth for a big guy and still rode bike regularly and played tennis with Barb. But I fear permanent damage to the brain may have taken those things from me now.

That's one thing I'll talk to the neurosurgeon about today. And it's something I continue to work to try to improve. Barb often says how she misses playing tennis together. I miss it too. I don't mean to be sexist, but many gals can't keep up with me on the tennis court. But Barb can. The harder I hit them at her, the harder she hits them back.

Next week I'll have a CT scan of the chest, abdomen and pelvis on Monday. Then I'll meet with the oncologist on Thursday after the scan to discuss the results and the effectiveness of the chemo after the first three months of use.

Between doctors' appointments we continue to paint the two living rooms in the house. They are very close to being done.

My Dad is expected to be transferred to Spang Crest Manor in Lebanon today. I take the fact that Hershey Medical Center is ready to release him as good news. But he certainly has some work ahead of him. Hopefully he can get the physical and mental support he needs to work his way back.

My Mom has been a real hero at being with him and working with him to try to recover from all of this. She has been by his side constantly, directing traffic, and overseeing his care. It hasn't been easy. Certainly she feels the pains my Dad feels as well - we all do.

If you get a chance to offer prayers or support to my Mom and Dad during this difficult time I would greatly appreciate if you would. The smallest gestures truly can mean the world.