Keeping At It

I'm less than a week off Gamma Knife brain radiation. But I'm pushing myself full steam into each and every day like it didn't even happen.

You can still see the holes in my forehead where they screwed the metal frame to my head. So I do have a reminder to take it slow and easy and not push into everything too hard.

With Barb's help I worked well through my daily laundry list yesterday, and it's always good to feel quite accomplished in reaching goals.

For many years now I've been trying to perfect my New Orleans style gumbo, and I just have not been real happy with my results. There used to be a place on Second Street in Harrisburg called the Zephyr who served the best gumbo I've ever had. I've always tried to recreate that taste.

The Zephyr also had a sensational peanut chicken pasta salad that was out of this world. And they also served something that they called "killer bread," which was - of course - killer.

My gumbo yesterday was good, and it was as close to the Zephyr as I had ever gotten before. The taste was dead on. I just needed to get my roux to stock ratio a little better. It could have been just a bit thicker.

I refuse to measure ingredients when I cook. I won't do it. I cook with my nose and by tasting. To me it's an art, not a science. Well I guess that's my approach to life in general too.

When I woke up this morning, unfortunately, my stomach did not seem as fond of the gumbo as my taste buds were last evening. It's been growling and groaning. Ugh. That's what I get for making that spicey stuff I love to eat.

But I'll settle into the morning and get busy again. From now until early April I'm on chemo, but away from doctors and hospitals, so I'm going to take advantage of it as best I can.

Productive and Restful

We were blessed with warm weather, in the 60s, this weekend. It wasn't very sunny. There were plenty of clouds around. But after a couple of very cold months, we'll take it.

I think everyone who owns a motorcycle was out riding their motorcycle on Saturday. There were plenty of classic cars and hot rods out tooling about too.

I opened the backdoor up for Freckles on Saturday and he wisely took advantage and parked himself their for a good part of the day, watching the birds and the squirrels.

We ran around a little bit, and got out into the fresh air. But I spent a few hours cleaning the master bathroom. I'm a big believer in always doing humbling work. I'm not the type who likes to be waited upon. I could never have a maid. It wouldn't suit me, wouldn't sit well with me. What makes me more significant than anyone else? I'm certainly not beyond scrubbing my own toilets.

As much as I got done on Saturday, Sunday was a completely relaxing day, as it should be. The Albert and McFadden families got together at my sister and my brother-in-laws' house to celebrate Heather's third birthday.

Heather was all fired up from the many visitors and the attention. She was very well behaved and filled with smiles all day. She got a polka dot raincoat with matching boots and an umbrella and she couldn't wait to put them all on.

It was good to see everyone. We don't get enough opportunities in this busy world to all get together as families all at once.

I'm looking forward to getting into a productive Monday. I've got a lot of balls I'm juggling in the air right now. I have to be smart about it though. I'm less than a week off radiation treatments, and it's kind of like walking around with a mild-concussion at times.

The painting project continues. We're making good progress all things considered. Barb has been a tremendous help and we're making quite a team. The completion of the front room is in site.

There's always cleaning to do, and if I can knock off a room everyday I'm thrilled. The recent snow drug a lot of wet dirt through the house.

With a couple of plants starting to sprout in the backyard it's time to start our Spring cleaning in the backyard. It's a total mess right now, and we've got a lot of work to do out back.

I also want to get back to business with the business. The ADS Web site needs some serious updating, possibly even needs to be reinvented. I'd like to get some more marketing going again too. Although, with the current state of the economy things are very, very, very slow.

I've got gumbo on the menu for tonight, shrimp and andouille sausage gumbo. I've been trying for years to perfect my gumbo, and I haven't quite perfected it yet. But I'm very confident going into this evenings gumbo. I've got my gameplan set. This is going to be the best yet, and of course I'm not going to forget the okra.

We're also prepping

Looks To Be A Nice Weekend

Jim seems to be doing well today as he makes his comeback from his Gamma Knife treatment. Monday he starts back on the Sutent after his two week break. Jim and I continued with painting yesterday, he finished off the trim on the ceiling and I worked on the trim through the stairs, it may need a second coat.

I am so glad that Jim is bouncing back from his radiation treatment the way that he has and tomorrow we go to Heather's birthday party. It has been a little while since we've seen Karen, Jamie and Heather, so we are looking forward to it.

I hope everyone has an enjoyable weekend and is able to have some time outside while it is warm. I don't have the writing skills that Jim has for different subjects, but I still try and do my best.

Feeling Good

Not sure what happened to yesterday's post. I just peeked at it and the end of the post somehow was cut short. Maybe I was too long winded. My apologies.

I'm feeling pretty good after the Gamma Knife treatment. I felt strong enough yesterday to paint the ceiling in the front room.

The radiation can aggrevate the brain and cause swelling. I was confident that some of the odd feelings I've felt in the head have been caused by swelling. But the latest MRI's have shown little to no swelling. So I'm not sure what the cause may be, possibly some minor but permanent damage.

I am still on the steroid. But now I'm going to work hard to get off of it in the next two weeks. I'm up to 195-pounds now, 20-pounds heavier than when I started taking the steroid. That weight is about where I should be though. We'll see what happens when the steroid is out of the picture.

I'm also feeling ambitious this morning and hope to get a few things done. I've got a blueberry muffin with my name on it, then I'll be jumping into my "to do" list with both feet.

All in all, feeling good after the Gamma Knife. My head, of course, is sore from the four screws that they used to secure the metal frame to my skull. But a few more lumps on my head is nothing new.

Rolling with the Punches

First and foremost I have to put some BIG thank yous out there for some much appreciated help in getting me to radiation treatments yesterday. The schedule was fluid and late-breaking and tough to keep up with and arrange.

A big thank you to my Mom for waking up way too early and driving over to Marietta in the bitter cold to pick Barb and I up and get us to the health center.

Also a big thank you to Alyssa for getting Barb to the grocery store yesterday afternoon after my radiation treatments.

We love you both.

I had to be at the offices of radiation oncology at 7:30 a.m. for my Gamma Knife treatment. With me was my crack support team of my wife and my mom.

We were all called back to an individual waiting room until I was called to the "frame room."

I am seated on something that resembles a dentist chair without the lounge feature. First I'm given a sedative, underneath the tongue. "Let it dissolve," I'm told. "Don't just swallow it."

Then an IV is hooked up to my right forearm and a little saline is injected through. Soon some "la la juice" is injected into me. This is third Gamma Knife treatment so I have experience. I'm relaxed, with or without the medication.

Two doctors enter, the neurosurgeon and the radiation oncologist, and with the help of the nurse start positioning a metal frame onto my head. They debate positioning, pick out there spots, and then start injecting my skull in four places with numbing stuff (I think that's the technical term).

In seconds I cannot feel my head. Quickly they begin to screw the frame to my skull, right through the skin, straight to the bone. They carefully tighten each screw and ensure that the frame is completely still without any chance of movement.

Every time they've told me, "You're doing really well." I bet they say that to everyone. (smile)

I was helped into a wheel chair, because walking with a numb head with a metal frame attached can prove quite challening. I was quickly whisked into an MRI room where the techs positioned me on the table for a quick scan.

"Luke, I am your father," I joked from the MRI bed.

Everyone laughed.

I thought to myself, "I should stop joking around and let them concentrate."

The MRI scans were quickly completed and the docs gathered to study them and set-up the treatment. I was told that they found four small tumors in all, one more than the latest report. All were under two millimeters in size - very tiny.

When the treatment plan was set I was escorted into the Gamma Knife room. The Gamma Knife is a huge empty room surrounded by thick radiation proof walls and doors. Think about science fiction type stuff and you're on the right track.

Once on the Gamma Knife table I'm fitted with another metal frame and a metal globe with pin holes all throughout it. The frames are locked into place into brackets on the treatment table. All measurements are checked and the doctors and staff come to agreement that everything is ready.

The treatment table slowly pulls me into the giant machine, head first. The table suddenly moves very slowly and I feel my metal frame lock into another piece of metal with a metallic "clang."

Then . . . complete silence . . . I mean not a sound at all for 20 minutes. That's the treatment, silent, invisible, radiation being aimed in hundreds of tiny beams around the tumor without harming surrounding healthy tissue.

There were two 20 minute treatments, one 18 minutes, and one 13 minutes, and then I was done.

I got up, regained my balance, and the neurosurgeon patted me on the shoulder and said, "Gotta' go. I'll see you in four-weeks and we'll do an MRI in eight."

A nurse quickly moved me back to the "frame room," settled me in the "dentist chair" and begun to unscrew the frame from my head. She worked to stop the bleeding from two of the screw holes. I felt my head. Wow it was numb. I couldn't feel a thing.

That was it, another Gamma Knife treatment.

It was a whirlwind. Originally this treatment was scheduled for the 18th of this month. We got a call late Monday that they'd like to do it this Wednesday (yesterday) instead. Fortunately my Mom was kind enough to instantly agree to the late-hour request and be my driver for the day. They get me so drugged up it's not the best idea for me to drive myself.

Then mid-morning Tuesday they called and informed me that I had to drop everything and have bloodwork done. We were just about out the door and on our way to the grocery store when this call came in. Fortunately Alyssa was kind enough to instantly agree to join her Mom for an afternoon grocery run while I slept off the medications, the radiation, and the four new holes in my head.

Feeling sore, but pretty good this morning. I'll take it light, but am sure I'll be ready for action almost immediately. Plus I have Barb's English muffins and forbidden chocolate doughnuts to keep me inspired.

We were just about on our way to the grocery store and butcher when the bloodwork request came in. So

Change in Schedule

The local morning news just came on and reported that it's 12-degrees outside. Our thermometer on the back of the house is recording a temperature of 18-degrees.

It's cold.

Temperatures are not expected to reach above freezing today. With yesterday's snow, March is definitely coming in like a lion.

Today is grocery day. I'd be lying if I said I was looking forward to going out in the cold. But we'll have to do what we have to do. Today is the ideal day to go out and fill the fridge with food, because there has been a change in schedule.

Yesterday in the late afternoon, a nurse from the radiation oncology office called me to ask if we could do my radiation treatment on Wednesday. It was originally scheduled for the middle of March. She caught me a little by surprise. But after I discussed it with Barb a little we decided it was probably for the best to get to the Gamma Knife and get it over with.

It kind of cuts my "retreat" from treatment and doctors short.

It also kind of throws a wrench into my painting plans. I was kind of hoping to have the painting at a good stopping point before the radiation treatment. Unfortunately I won't be able to finish off the front room before treatments, which means furniture randomly arranged out of the way of the work areas, and covered in plastic. I'll need to find the strength after the brain radiation to finish this off.

I'm so fortunate to have folks around me, supporting me so incredibly, like I do. I called my Mom as soon as I found out that the Gamma Knife was now scheduled for Wednesday. I needed to arrange a ride. They sedate you a bit before the Gamma Knife procedure. Afterall, they do screw a metal frame to my skull.

"How available are you on Wednesday?" I asked my Mom.

"I'll make myself available," she instantly answered.

I have felt consistently lame for having to ask for such help. But I continue to be incredibly touched by such willingness to help. Thanks so much.

Riding It Out

I made meatball sandwiches on Saturday. I am the sandwich king. I take my sandwich making very seriously.

This upcoming week we're making our own cole slaw for reuben sandwiches.

Somehow during the meatball making a song from childhood came rushing back to me - "On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed. It rolled off the table, and onto the floor. And then my poor meatball, rolled right out the door."

Well that got a smile out of Barb.

Then, unexplicably, another song from childhood popped out - "John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt, his name is my name too. Whenever he goes out. The people always shout. There goes John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt. Na na na na na na na . . . "

OK. Now Barb was flat out laughing.

Who knows where this stuff suddenly comes from, out of nowhere. I'm a walking jukebox.

I've been feeling pretty good across the past week or so. It's been an opportunity to kind of forget about cancer for awhile and just wake up and live my "normal" life every day. I do appreciate the times between doctors and treatments.

With temperatures in the 20's, high winds, and a little snow in the forecast, it's a great day to stay inside. Every winter, every year, for my entire life, I just run from one warm place to another. I spend zero time outside in the cold.

I have to spackle some cracks in a ceiling before painting the ceiling today. That is, of course, if I can keep Freckles out of the way.

I'm working on our computer network also, and backing up some files, getting ready for a little business reorganization and renewed marketing. It's tough out there. I've never experienced a general financial slump like this in my lifetime. In the past months, two clients have pulled their plans for projects because of financial concerns.

But if business is slow, it offers me precious time to work on art for art's sake, just creative releases. I've got an idea for some more wall art incubating in the old brain upstairs.

Well there is a fresh batch of homemade English muffins waiting for me. They looked extra fluffy too when Barb was fixing them up yesterday afternoon! Woohoo!