Dana and I arrived at Stanford yesterday afternoon, after waiting in SLO in the morning for the call that said a room was available. I have a nice single room, not as big as room 44 before and without the double doors, but I am not sick and they need that room for someone a lot sicker than I. Apparently we rushed up here to secure a bed more than anything else, because they can't do any chemo treatment until they get the actual slides from my gallbladder and bone marrow biopsies, which are in SLO. I wish there had been some way to get those to bring with us, but it is done.
So Dana slept in the osteoporisizer, a special cot they have for spouses that insist on hanging around. They were on clearance from Abu Ghraib. I got an IV with a bunch of saline solution and I am back to measuring my ouputs. The white hat (poop collector) awaits me. I had been having frequent bowel movements, but as soon as the white hat came out I clinched up like a sailor. Just like old times, Dana and I cruised around the hospital, and now she is out picking up a few things, and I have just finished hospital dinner.
Here is what we have learned that they are going to do. Since they found lymphoblastic cells in my gallbladder, they assume there are lymphoblastic cells elsewhere. They will break out the big guns and blast away for 3-4 weeks, shut the whole bone marrow down and then restart it. Then we find a bone marrow donor, probably a sibling, and in October or so I get a bone marrow transplant and everything is groovy. I will breeze through this, just like last time.
One difference is last time I was very sick when I got here, and this time I am not, at least my blood isn't. My blood tests have been fine all along, so the doctors here need to see the gallbladder and bone marrow to help them work up the specific chemotherapy regimen or cocktail they will give me. It is odd that these lymphoblastic cells were in my gallbladder, and a couple of spots of them on my liver, but they didn't show in any blood tests. I wonder if I will actually tolerate chemo better this time than last given the healthier start. Or, will it be worse, since this time I have further to fall.
This afternoon I talked them into removing the saline IV so I could walk around without the IV pole; I just promised to drink a lot of water. They were going to insert a PICC line today, but now I think that is tomorrow's job. They are getting small tests out of the way, so I had an ECG this afternoon, my heart is fine. All in all a most unevenful and boring day. I am going out to the garden now and read a book. Dana is still shopping! I think tomorrow the action will heat up - PICC line, nasty nasty big nasty chemos like danauribicin and who knows what else. And the white hat has been put away for the moment.
So far this has been like when back in junior high, one of the bad guys calls you out after school for looking at his girl, or for thinking you're cool or smart. You sweat it out all day long, and then after school you get all revved up, you're ready to go, you go over to the designated beating spot and nobody shows up. Tomorrow the action begins.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Book II - Road to BMT
As you may know Dana and Mike are running the Nike half-marathon and helping Team-in-Training raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The TNT team made me an honored teammate, and in my bio for the team I wrote the following
About 3 weeks ago I started having serious acid reflux attacks, enough to put me in the ER ruling out heart attacks. This led to some testing of my gallbladder, and finally they removed my gallbladder July 5th. I met with the surgeon 5 days later, and he told me to call my oncologist, the biopsy showed lymphoblastic cells in the gallbladder, i.e. the leukemia had returned (or something equally nasty). I met with Dr. Spillane the next day, and he said get ready, we're going back to Stanford next week. . He did a bone marrow biopsy the next day, and now it is Sunday. He reassured me that this was going to work out fine, his most recent patient just had it done six months ago and is doing fine.
Barring any new development I am gearing up to go to Stanford tomorrow. I have lots of questions and no answers yet, predominantly "If we haven't identified a donor yet, why would we start the Induction Phase?" The Induction Phase is much like last time, 2-4 weeks of high-dose chemo to shut everything down, then presumably a bone marrow transplant from one of my siblings that starts it all out clean. There is a method to it all and I just am in high anxiety sorting it out.
I think subconsciously I knew this was coming. I had been prepping my office for the demise of me, but I thought it was so I could golf more. I reorganized my home desk, changed a lot of bills to auto-pay, and updated a lot of financial info so Dana would understand it.
So, I get to retire again, and have a more carefully planned visit to Stanford. Needless to say, Dana is a pillar of strength and composure. We had our cry and now must move on. The blog gets reactivated and the hair goes away again. The prognosis is that I go through the process again and Iʼll be fine. Iʼll let you know more as I learn more.
"However, one thing that will remain with probably every cancer warrior is the thought that this is not the end of it. And in many if not most cases, it isn’t. The cancer will return, or another type of cancer will return. Every chemo treatment you get has a potential side effect of causing cancer. Every day at some moment I ask myself, is it back, how do I feel? If I get a nosebleed I go get a blood test. I read about that 11 year-old girl in Pismo that recently died of ALL, after a 5-year remission, and it saddened me that she wasn’t as lucky as I, and that we hadn’t yet found a cure that worked for her.That was an emotional plea, and it has come home to roost. Tomorrow I am going back to Stanford to begin the process for a bone marrow transplant. The leukemia is back.
So that is why what all of you (TNT members) are doing is so important. When I was in Stanford, I was the lucky person that comes through once a year and doesn’t really get sick, from disease or chemo. I went on long walks 3 times/day, and I always went through the Children’s Hospital to the rooftop garden. The kids looked so sick, and all I could think was how difficult it must be for them and their families to go through this. The treatment that some research team is going to come up with will save some lives, maybe mine, maybe some little kid’s and his family's lives. I know it would destroy me to have to bury one of my children. "
About 3 weeks ago I started having serious acid reflux attacks, enough to put me in the ER ruling out heart attacks. This led to some testing of my gallbladder, and finally they removed my gallbladder July 5th. I met with the surgeon 5 days later, and he told me to call my oncologist, the biopsy showed lymphoblastic cells in the gallbladder, i.e. the leukemia had returned (or something equally nasty). I met with Dr. Spillane the next day, and he said get ready, we're going back to Stanford next week. . He did a bone marrow biopsy the next day, and now it is Sunday. He reassured me that this was going to work out fine, his most recent patient just had it done six months ago and is doing fine.
Barring any new development I am gearing up to go to Stanford tomorrow. I have lots of questions and no answers yet, predominantly "If we haven't identified a donor yet, why would we start the Induction Phase?" The Induction Phase is much like last time, 2-4 weeks of high-dose chemo to shut everything down, then presumably a bone marrow transplant from one of my siblings that starts it all out clean. There is a method to it all and I just am in high anxiety sorting it out.
I think subconsciously I knew this was coming. I had been prepping my office for the demise of me, but I thought it was so I could golf more. I reorganized my home desk, changed a lot of bills to auto-pay, and updated a lot of financial info so Dana would understand it.
So, I get to retire again, and have a more carefully planned visit to Stanford. Needless to say, Dana is a pillar of strength and composure. We had our cry and now must move on. The blog gets reactivated and the hair goes away again. The prognosis is that I go through the process again and Iʼll be fine. Iʼll let you know more as I learn more.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Dana and Mike are running to save lives!
There may be life in the old blog yet!
Check this out!
Dear Friends and Family,
The last time I sent out a group letter to friends and family, husband John was in the middle of his battle with leukemia, and I was trying to put together a book of memories for his 50th birthday. We were afraid he would be spending that birthday fighting for his life in the Cancer Ward at Stanford Hospital. Well, that was then, and this is now. Happily, John was able to celebrate his birthday at home that year, and has celebrated a couple since then. We will be forever grateful for the loving support we received during that difficult time. I’d like to appeal to you now for another kind of support, one that will certainly save the lives of many others.
The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society funded the research that was directly responsible for John’s treatment and recovery. We now have a special opportunity to do some fundraising for this wonderful cause very close to our hearts. My son, Mike, and I are participating in the Nike Half Marathon in San Francisco this October! We are part of a larger team made up of parent/student pairs from San Luis Obispo High School. Last year’s central coast team raised enough money to fully fund a research grant, $350,000!
Mike and I have set our fundraising goal at $6,000. We hope to hit our first goal of $3,000 by the end of June. We can only accomplish our goal with your help. Please give generously. Your donation will go directly to the mission: Curing leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease, and myeloma, and improving the lives of patients and their families.
Of course we are participating to honor John, but also in loving memory of my mom, Marci Ward. Mike never had the pleasure of knowing his grandma, who succumbed to cancer much too soon. I know she would have been proud of him! You probably know others in your circle of family and friends who have been touched by these devastating diseases. We would like to honor your loved ones by adding their names to our race jerseys, and participating in their honor as well, so please provide their names for us.
The fastest and easiest way to donate is through our web pages. You can make donations online and check our progress at
http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/nikesf08/dfiore (Dana’s webpage) or http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/nikesf08/mfiore (Mike’s webpage)
When you get to the website, scroll down a bit if you don’t see our personal message.
Of course your donation is tax deductible (tax ID number 13-5644916) but more importantly, your donation will help save lives!
Thank you so much! We greatly appreciate your generosity.
Love,
Dana and Mike Fiore
P.S. I would appreciate it if you would forward this email to as many people as you can to encourage them to donate as well. Thanks again.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Epiblog, Have a nice day!
First off, good luck to Nick, hope those tests come back saying you have mono or a bad cold. We will all think good thoughts for you.
My health is fine cancer-wise, just the same old annoyances I mentioned last blog. I had doctor week this week to check on some parts that need rotation or replacement or flushing or realignment. The skin doc took out the freeze gun and blasted a bunch of AKs and SKs (non-cancer growths, keratomas) off my legs. One of these was super itchy, and I was glad to see the sucker burn; I prefer pain to itch. He blasted some more on my head, and then these recurring warts on my hand. One of those blistered up and looked like a giant pink gemstone ring on my pinkie, very Godfatherly.
Next I saw the throat doc, then the GI doc. I definitely have acid reflux, gotta go to 2x/day Nexium. Funny, the doc asks, does ERD wake you at night; it wakes many that have it at 3 am, peak acid production time? I say no, but damned if I didn't wake this morning at 2:47 with a lump in my throat. The power of suggestion, or the chocolate I ate last night, and the ice cream, just like the doc told me not to do. Man, cutting back on some food favorites and coffee is going to be tough. So, here I am, feeling chipper, closing out this blog, making one last entry. I said to my wife the other day, 'I don't feel like I am having very many good days these days, I'm just caught in a rut of doing the same things.' I made a vow to myself when I was in the hospital that I would only have good days, but it is obvious now that that is impossible.
This all started when I asked myself when the last time was that I woke up and felt good and had a day I enjoyed, a good day. Tough question. First off, what is a good day? I realized I didn't know, or at least had never stated my criteria, what scale I would use to judge the days. And what if these are the good days, and you can only measure them in the end, when you've seen all your days? I suppose that would be more of a better/worse days judgment, and I don't know if you can just add days to each side without rating each day. So I am considering the power factor of certain good days, really really good days, wicked good days. Super bad days too, I suppose. Can one extra good day offset a week of sorta bad days? That's what vacations are all about, in part. I see my neighbor's driveway empty many weekends and I say to the wife, 'They're having more fun than we are.' So I go along, piling up these sorta bad days, and trying to offset them with a few really good days now and then to get balanced. It doesn't seem to be working. So what makes a good day? I asked a lady at work that is very introspective, and she couldn't answer right away; she will think about it this weekend and get back to me. Dana is pondering it, and I am too. Here is what I am coming up with.
I would want to wake up and feel well, maybe not healthy but with no new aches or pains. I would accept the pains that I already have and am dealing with - the hips, the elbows, the ERD, the skin itch and growths.
There would have to be love and connectivity with the family. Maybe a snuggle to start the good day, warm in bed, woman all soft and smelling sweet. Some interplay with Mike that was positive, a good hug, smell his head like he was still a baby.
I would do some physical activity that made me feel good about myself. I almost always feel good after surfing, even if I suck, but I feel bad after golfing if I suck. I often golf with people I don't really like golfing with, swing talkers and the like, but surfing is a solo sport, just paddle down the line if someone is bugging you, and I haven't had to do that for a long time. That probably means I haven't been surfing enough. Does this mean I should quit golf? I love golf. It means I should only play with people I enjoy playing with.
Each day I would have to invest time in future good days by eating right and exercising. I love the ice cream and chocolate, but will pay later in acid reflux and general ill feeling. Same if I overeat, which luckily I don't do often. I could solve some of my pain issues, and golf and surfing issues, even work issues, if I were stronger, more flexible and had more endurance. I have to upgrade my diet to get the energy to have good days, so I would eat a lot of veggies, and drink a lot of water.
Whatever I did that day, work or home, I would have to do well to have a good day. I like tangible results myself, and in my job I don't often get them for weeks or months. That is why I am drawn to golf - tangible results and quickly. I would not let bad situations infiltrate my good day. For a really good day, I wouldn't have to deal with any bad situations, client or vendor disputes in my work. I would have a victory of some sort, finish some difficult task, solve some sticky problem, create something useful or beautiful. The act of creating something is very satisfying.
The people around me would be having a good day too, so there would be no bad days of theirs spilling into my good day. At work, shared victories. At home, shared wonders, love, affection. I would help my kids in some way to prepare to cope with this world, to have many good days and few bad ones.
Feeling like you are part of a community should be a factor in here, but I don't feel that in my gut very strongly. I feel at odds with the community often, with the way our govt. is (not) handling things, with the opinions of my neighbors in the newspaper. There is a feeling of continuity that comes from community, that everything will be as good or better for your kids, that you left the world a better place, and I am not getting that these days. I worry about the future for our kids, and that does not help towards a good day. One way to move this toward the good day side would be to work towards bettering something that needs fixing. Maybe that means volunteering, or writing, or blogging, somehow pushing earth towards a good day.
It's almost 6 am Saturday morning. I read the newspaper, and now I'll get ready for my typical Saturday am routine. Drive to the Rock in Morro Bay, check the surf (surf's up), maybe cowboy up and jump in the cold water. If not, go to the golf course and practice for a couple of hours. I always enjoy that, because it has no pressure. Get home around noon. This weekend I will go into work for a few hours, catch up on some reporting I need to do. Watch the Red Sox in the World Series at 5. Sorry honey. Let's Go Red Sox. I have been chanting that at work randomly, let them know where my allegiances are.
As I've said before, it has been very therapeutic for me to write this blog, but leukemia is not really part of my day-to-day life anymore. It lingers in the background, this veiled threat. Maybe something bad will happen, maybe not. All I can work on are the odds. All my friends and family have made me feel part of a community that matters, my karass. As Bokonon said in Vonnegut's 'Cat's Cradle', and I may be repeating myself here but bear with me:
"We do, doodley do, doodley do, doodley do,
What we must, muddily must, muddily must, muddily must;
Muddily do, muddily do, muddily do, muddily do,
Until we bust, bodily bust, bodily bust, bodily bust."
Of course Bokonon also said
"What can a thoughtful man hope for mankind on Earth, given the experience of the past million years? Nothing."
But then there is this:
"Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder, 'Why, why, why?'
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand."
We are what we are. Thanks for letting me be part of your community, and for all the support. Have a good day.
My health is fine cancer-wise, just the same old annoyances I mentioned last blog. I had doctor week this week to check on some parts that need rotation or replacement or flushing or realignment. The skin doc took out the freeze gun and blasted a bunch of AKs and SKs (non-cancer growths, keratomas) off my legs. One of these was super itchy, and I was glad to see the sucker burn; I prefer pain to itch. He blasted some more on my head, and then these recurring warts on my hand. One of those blistered up and looked like a giant pink gemstone ring on my pinkie, very Godfatherly.
Next I saw the throat doc, then the GI doc. I definitely have acid reflux, gotta go to 2x/day Nexium. Funny, the doc asks, does ERD wake you at night; it wakes many that have it at 3 am, peak acid production time? I say no, but damned if I didn't wake this morning at 2:47 with a lump in my throat. The power of suggestion, or the chocolate I ate last night, and the ice cream, just like the doc told me not to do. Man, cutting back on some food favorites and coffee is going to be tough. So, here I am, feeling chipper, closing out this blog, making one last entry. I said to my wife the other day, 'I don't feel like I am having very many good days these days, I'm just caught in a rut of doing the same things.' I made a vow to myself when I was in the hospital that I would only have good days, but it is obvious now that that is impossible.
This all started when I asked myself when the last time was that I woke up and felt good and had a day I enjoyed, a good day. Tough question. First off, what is a good day? I realized I didn't know, or at least had never stated my criteria, what scale I would use to judge the days. And what if these are the good days, and you can only measure them in the end, when you've seen all your days? I suppose that would be more of a better/worse days judgment, and I don't know if you can just add days to each side without rating each day. So I am considering the power factor of certain good days, really really good days, wicked good days. Super bad days too, I suppose. Can one extra good day offset a week of sorta bad days? That's what vacations are all about, in part. I see my neighbor's driveway empty many weekends and I say to the wife, 'They're having more fun than we are.' So I go along, piling up these sorta bad days, and trying to offset them with a few really good days now and then to get balanced. It doesn't seem to be working. So what makes a good day? I asked a lady at work that is very introspective, and she couldn't answer right away; she will think about it this weekend and get back to me. Dana is pondering it, and I am too. Here is what I am coming up with.
I would want to wake up and feel well, maybe not healthy but with no new aches or pains. I would accept the pains that I already have and am dealing with - the hips, the elbows, the ERD, the skin itch and growths.
There would have to be love and connectivity with the family. Maybe a snuggle to start the good day, warm in bed, woman all soft and smelling sweet. Some interplay with Mike that was positive, a good hug, smell his head like he was still a baby.
I would do some physical activity that made me feel good about myself. I almost always feel good after surfing, even if I suck, but I feel bad after golfing if I suck. I often golf with people I don't really like golfing with, swing talkers and the like, but surfing is a solo sport, just paddle down the line if someone is bugging you, and I haven't had to do that for a long time. That probably means I haven't been surfing enough. Does this mean I should quit golf? I love golf. It means I should only play with people I enjoy playing with.
Each day I would have to invest time in future good days by eating right and exercising. I love the ice cream and chocolate, but will pay later in acid reflux and general ill feeling. Same if I overeat, which luckily I don't do often. I could solve some of my pain issues, and golf and surfing issues, even work issues, if I were stronger, more flexible and had more endurance. I have to upgrade my diet to get the energy to have good days, so I would eat a lot of veggies, and drink a lot of water.
Whatever I did that day, work or home, I would have to do well to have a good day. I like tangible results myself, and in my job I don't often get them for weeks or months. That is why I am drawn to golf - tangible results and quickly. I would not let bad situations infiltrate my good day. For a really good day, I wouldn't have to deal with any bad situations, client or vendor disputes in my work. I would have a victory of some sort, finish some difficult task, solve some sticky problem, create something useful or beautiful. The act of creating something is very satisfying.
The people around me would be having a good day too, so there would be no bad days of theirs spilling into my good day. At work, shared victories. At home, shared wonders, love, affection. I would help my kids in some way to prepare to cope with this world, to have many good days and few bad ones.
Feeling like you are part of a community should be a factor in here, but I don't feel that in my gut very strongly. I feel at odds with the community often, with the way our govt. is (not) handling things, with the opinions of my neighbors in the newspaper. There is a feeling of continuity that comes from community, that everything will be as good or better for your kids, that you left the world a better place, and I am not getting that these days. I worry about the future for our kids, and that does not help towards a good day. One way to move this toward the good day side would be to work towards bettering something that needs fixing. Maybe that means volunteering, or writing, or blogging, somehow pushing earth towards a good day.
It's almost 6 am Saturday morning. I read the newspaper, and now I'll get ready for my typical Saturday am routine. Drive to the Rock in Morro Bay, check the surf (surf's up), maybe cowboy up and jump in the cold water. If not, go to the golf course and practice for a couple of hours. I always enjoy that, because it has no pressure. Get home around noon. This weekend I will go into work for a few hours, catch up on some reporting I need to do. Watch the Red Sox in the World Series at 5. Sorry honey. Let's Go Red Sox. I have been chanting that at work randomly, let them know where my allegiances are.
As I've said before, it has been very therapeutic for me to write this blog, but leukemia is not really part of my day-to-day life anymore. It lingers in the background, this veiled threat. Maybe something bad will happen, maybe not. All I can work on are the odds. All my friends and family have made me feel part of a community that matters, my karass. As Bokonon said in Vonnegut's 'Cat's Cradle', and I may be repeating myself here but bear with me:
"We do, doodley do, doodley do, doodley do,
What we must, muddily must, muddily must, muddily must;
Muddily do, muddily do, muddily do, muddily do,
Until we bust, bodily bust, bodily bust, bodily bust."
Of course Bokonon also said
"What can a thoughtful man hope for mankind on Earth, given the experience of the past million years? Nothing."
But then there is this:
"Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder, 'Why, why, why?'
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand."
We are what we are. Thanks for letting me be part of your community, and for all the support. Have a good day.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Scratching out a living
Just when you think you are out of the woods, it turns out they were full of poison oak! In the last month, as my immune system recovers from 2+ years of suppression, it decides to go on a rampage of a sort, and I am one giant itch as the WBCs go rampaging from spot to spot. One big constant allergic reaction to nothing! This seems to be related to circulation, as heat really gets it going. I step out of a hot shower with rashes everywhere, so now I am taking cold showers. Benadryl is keeping the whole thing under control, keeping it bearable, and the doc thinks it will subside in some time, but so does breathing. The only other person I know that went through this treatment is still having the itchies, and she ended chemo months ahead of me, so I have that to look forward to. It could be a long hot itchy summer.
The other night my scrotum was on fire with the itch, and I was wondering if I had mentally blocked some wild party with hookers in Reno, but it was just the crazy WBCs going after a hot spot. I actually considered cutting off the whole mess, but then my head was itchy too, and my ears, and my chest, so I can't chop off everything that is itching. I had to bust out a firehose of 2.5% hydrocortisone cream and put it out; back to the damn steroids!
Just to make things well-rounded, the acid reflux thing is back and I have to cut back on my favorite drug, coffee. Jeez. So, the new drugs are Benadryl and Protonix, and Gaviscon when things are really kicking. Right now I feel like something is trying to break out of my rib cage. Things seem to get going about 2 hours after a meal, and I am right on cue. But, my golf game is coming around, and when I am outside the itch is gone, probably because of the cool weather we are having around here. Mac, I played Dayton Valley CC (Nicklaus design) with the boss last week, shot an 84 from the blues. 40 acres of water on the course, and at least 100 sand traps, so I was pretty damn pleased.
Young John is home from school, so the house is a little different. He is running with a game idea I had a few years ago, so I am going to have to help him with it, and maybe we can both avoid real jobs if it works. Stay tuned.
Everything else is pretty normal. School is coming to a close for Mike and Dana, and we need to get some vacation time planned, I've worked over a year with 3 days off. I will probably keep posting until the itch dies so my readers with leukemia that read this can see how it might fare for them. The key to scratching out a living is living, not the scratching.
The other night my scrotum was on fire with the itch, and I was wondering if I had mentally blocked some wild party with hookers in Reno, but it was just the crazy WBCs going after a hot spot. I actually considered cutting off the whole mess, but then my head was itchy too, and my ears, and my chest, so I can't chop off everything that is itching. I had to bust out a firehose of 2.5% hydrocortisone cream and put it out; back to the damn steroids!
Just to make things well-rounded, the acid reflux thing is back and I have to cut back on my favorite drug, coffee. Jeez. So, the new drugs are Benadryl and Protonix, and Gaviscon when things are really kicking. Right now I feel like something is trying to break out of my rib cage. Things seem to get going about 2 hours after a meal, and I am right on cue. But, my golf game is coming around, and when I am outside the itch is gone, probably because of the cool weather we are having around here. Mac, I played Dayton Valley CC (Nicklaus design) with the boss last week, shot an 84 from the blues. 40 acres of water on the course, and at least 100 sand traps, so I was pretty damn pleased.
Young John is home from school, so the house is a little different. He is running with a game idea I had a few years ago, so I am going to have to help him with it, and maybe we can both avoid real jobs if it works. Stay tuned.
Everything else is pretty normal. School is coming to a close for Mike and Dana, and we need to get some vacation time planned, I've worked over a year with 3 days off. I will probably keep posting until the itch dies so my readers with leukemia that read this can see how it might fare for them. The key to scratching out a living is living, not the scratching.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Boring is sometimes good
My bone marrow biopsy was clean, I am a clean machine (in that sense). Didja get my pun about boring? I wonder how old you are when the bad puns gene turns on?
Let's get our goodwill thoughts to anonymous Bill, send him some white cells through the ether or however you all did it last time.
For some reason the blog just got 5 times the hits it's been getting, maybe the new blogger setup drew some looky-loos. Let's hope the incidence of leukemia didn't just jump. Maybe my friends are looking for some final words of wisdom from me. It's 7:30 Monday am and I am on my way to work, so I don't have my head in the game. I will post this and follow up with a final blog of wisdom. Here are the only thoughts of wisdom I have right now. Stay balanced. Slow it down if it's going bad. When it's fast, read more break into your roll. Keep your head steady. Do all this and you too can shoot 88.
Work to live, and enjoy every day you get.
Let's get our goodwill thoughts to anonymous Bill, send him some white cells through the ether or however you all did it last time.
For some reason the blog just got 5 times the hits it's been getting, maybe the new blogger setup drew some looky-loos. Let's hope the incidence of leukemia didn't just jump. Maybe my friends are looking for some final words of wisdom from me. It's 7:30 Monday am and I am on my way to work, so I don't have my head in the game. I will post this and follow up with a final blog of wisdom. Here are the only thoughts of wisdom I have right now. Stay balanced. Slow it down if it's going bad. When it's fast, read more break into your roll. Keep your head steady. Do all this and you too can shoot 88.
Work to live, and enjoy every day you get.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Putting my chemistry set away
I just took my last dose of mecaptopurine (I hope). No more prednisone, no more vincristine, no more methotrexate. I have taken 21,600 mg of mercaptopurine, 9000 mg of prednisone, 2835 mg of methotrexate and 180 mg of vincristine in the last 18 months. I feel good. No worse than Halloween at URI, and only mildly stranger. I won't get that bone marrow biopsy until April, give the cruel flowers time to bloom if they are there growing in me, which they aren't. Fer cryin' out loud, nothing lives through this shit, I haven't had a cold or the flu while people drop like flies all around me, knock on wood. I have never seen flies drop, hmmmm.
Anyway, I am trying to throw a golf game back together, an old man game that doesn't go for power. It's been about a year since I gave it up. I've been hitting the shag bag and the putting green. Hit the driving range yesterday to get some tips from Jack Leary, and now my hip and back are hurting. Surfed yesterday, really badly, first time in 5 months or so, then hit the driving range, so maybe that was too much. Or, I can't ratchet down to the old man swing and overdid it. Golf is a strange game in that you can quit for a while and lose some bad habits, so when you restart it seems easier. Of course those old habits will sneak back and the nasty cycle begins again. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance. A new hip is cheaper; I see they have this new way to recoat hip joints with titanium, gotta check into that.
Looks like I made it through leukemia, and it isn't going to kill me, at least not just yet and hopefully never. It certainly has made me change my basic outlook of the future, but I haven't taken the big step of changing my life to reflect that. My guess is that most of us will die leaving behind grandiose schemes, plans, ideas, unrequited loves, regrets, novels in our heads, gifts never given, travels never travelled, words unspoken. Reminds me of a section from the book of Bokonon from Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle:
Tiger gotta hunt. Bird gotta fly.
Man gotta sit and wonder why, why, why.
Tiger gotta sleep. Bird gotta land.
Man gotta tell himself he understand.
I think that's where it's from. I keep talking to myself but I still don't understand.
I will post one more time, after the April tests, and then it will be time to put this blog to rest, we hope for good.
Anyway, I am trying to throw a golf game back together, an old man game that doesn't go for power. It's been about a year since I gave it up. I've been hitting the shag bag and the putting green. Hit the driving range yesterday to get some tips from Jack Leary, and now my hip and back are hurting. Surfed yesterday, really badly, first time in 5 months or so, then hit the driving range, so maybe that was too much. Or, I can't ratchet down to the old man swing and overdid it. Golf is a strange game in that you can quit for a while and lose some bad habits, so when you restart it seems easier. Of course those old habits will sneak back and the nasty cycle begins again. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance. A new hip is cheaper; I see they have this new way to recoat hip joints with titanium, gotta check into that.
Looks like I made it through leukemia, and it isn't going to kill me, at least not just yet and hopefully never. It certainly has made me change my basic outlook of the future, but I haven't taken the big step of changing my life to reflect that. My guess is that most of us will die leaving behind grandiose schemes, plans, ideas, unrequited loves, regrets, novels in our heads, gifts never given, travels never travelled, words unspoken. Reminds me of a section from the book of Bokonon from Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle:
Tiger gotta hunt. Bird gotta fly.
Man gotta sit and wonder why, why, why.
Tiger gotta sleep. Bird gotta land.
Man gotta tell himself he understand.
I think that's where it's from. I keep talking to myself but I still don't understand.
I will post one more time, after the April tests, and then it will be time to put this blog to rest, we hope for good.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
dX plus 2
2/8/07, Two years after diagnosis day
In theory this was the day I would be done with chemo. It is 3am, and I am up and about since 2 at least partly due to 100 mg of prednisone. Health is good, but the doc wants me to go one more month, just for extra kicks. So this is my last steroid week, a little more mercaptopurine and some methotrexate, a bone marrow biopsy just for a final check in early March, and we're done!
I noticed about 4 weeks ago that I was always freezing even though it was 70 in the office and at home, and then I started gaining weight, so we tested out my thyroid. The dang thing was normal, and my doc says I am just finally wearing out from the chemo, and I will probably sag a little more when we end it, but then by April I will recover. Reminds me of The Wasteland by TS Eliot, which I will only include parts of because it is long:
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
..........
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
A moment of silence for Chiaki, who I worked with at Symantec, who sadly passed away last week from stomach cancer, leaving her husband and teenage daughter. Turns out she was born 2 days after me, and I was thinking how that bullet was meant for me, but I ducked and she caught it full brunt. A stupid thought. More like she hit the other side of our medical care, she had a doctor who dismissed her symptoms for something like a year, and when she switched docs it was too late. She suffered the chemo bravely even with the full brunt of side effects that I never got, and with the knowledge that she was only delaying the inevitable well beyond what they she could endure. She seemed a happy and very peaceful person that I would have liked to know better, and her passing brings me sorrow. I wish her luck and bon voyage in her travels through the universe.
Everything else is good, chugging through life. My neighbors are having more fun than us, but our house looks nicer. I think that means they are winning if we're keeping score. It is time to ratchet back the work efforts (at home) and enjoy life more. Dana and I get caught up in a battle of who does more, and then we start keeping score, and then we're caught in the death spiral. I am out of gas and can't tread water in the whirlpool for long, so I am opting out of this spiral this time. Let's take up dancing and go for a canoe ride, maybe have a BBQ.
Hey, maybe it is time for the final phase BBQ! Hmmmm, I have eyebrows, and now I have a bigger gut, maybe a big gut BBQ. Mac, I bet you got some spare big guts in Alabammy, no?
In theory this was the day I would be done with chemo. It is 3am, and I am up and about since 2 at least partly due to 100 mg of prednisone. Health is good, but the doc wants me to go one more month, just for extra kicks. So this is my last steroid week, a little more mercaptopurine and some methotrexate, a bone marrow biopsy just for a final check in early March, and we're done!
I noticed about 4 weeks ago that I was always freezing even though it was 70 in the office and at home, and then I started gaining weight, so we tested out my thyroid. The dang thing was normal, and my doc says I am just finally wearing out from the chemo, and I will probably sag a little more when we end it, but then by April I will recover. Reminds me of The Wasteland by TS Eliot, which I will only include parts of because it is long:
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
..........
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
A moment of silence for Chiaki, who I worked with at Symantec, who sadly passed away last week from stomach cancer, leaving her husband and teenage daughter. Turns out she was born 2 days after me, and I was thinking how that bullet was meant for me, but I ducked and she caught it full brunt. A stupid thought. More like she hit the other side of our medical care, she had a doctor who dismissed her symptoms for something like a year, and when she switched docs it was too late. She suffered the chemo bravely even with the full brunt of side effects that I never got, and with the knowledge that she was only delaying the inevitable well beyond what they she could endure. She seemed a happy and very peaceful person that I would have liked to know better, and her passing brings me sorrow. I wish her luck and bon voyage in her travels through the universe.
Everything else is good, chugging through life. My neighbors are having more fun than us, but our house looks nicer. I think that means they are winning if we're keeping score. It is time to ratchet back the work efforts (at home) and enjoy life more. Dana and I get caught up in a battle of who does more, and then we start keeping score, and then we're caught in the death spiral. I am out of gas and can't tread water in the whirlpool for long, so I am opting out of this spiral this time. Let's take up dancing and go for a canoe ride, maybe have a BBQ.
Hey, maybe it is time for the final phase BBQ! Hmmmm, I have eyebrows, and now I have a bigger gut, maybe a big gut BBQ. Mac, I bet you got some spare big guts in Alabammy, no?
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Fork you too
12/24 Looks like we had another Jade Cove trip, a couple of them actually. Mike B. and I went up Thursday, since we have had giant surf and now minus tides. I found this 12 lb. chunk of Jade and Serpentine mix, but the waves were too big to really get after it. Then it rained on us Thursday night, and Friday I fell in a stream carrying Woody (dog) across. I managed to put him down on a rock as I was falling, but then I got the full dunk, smashed my hand and got lots of little cuts. When we finally got down into the cove in the afternoon, I got drenched again when an extra large wave caught me napping. By the time I got home I was still wet and out of dry clothes. A successful trip.
Every time I am heading out for Jade Cove, Dana asks if I don't have enough jade. This is of course rhetorical, unanswerable in fact. The jade I do not have is always greener and larger than the jade I do have, and it must be sought and never found. It is sisyphean, a moonbeam.
One morning recently we woke and found out WE WERE FORKED!
I thought this was pretty funny, much better than getting TPed, since it rained and wet TP is a pain. There musta been 100 forks, and a few spoons and knives as well. It was some of the kids in the last play with Mike (Little Women of Orchard House).
It's Christmas eve. All the presents are wrapped, the stockings are hung by the chimney, the lights are all lit, Santa will be here soon. My health is good, the remodel is essentially done, work is fine, the family is all here and healthy, the Patriots won today and the weather's nice. Thank God for our government, so we have something to crab about.
Here is a picture of the new dining area, and the kitchen through the arch
I went to see the orthopedic doc 2 weeks ago, and he said my hip was definitely arthritic and bursitic, and he could treat the bursitis with prednisone, but the arthritis was untreatable, eceppt for aspirin and all those other salicylate derivatives I am allergic to (Advil, Ibuprofen, etc.). That allergy turned up when I was 21, and I wouldn't be surprised if it is gone, but I cannot get a doctor to test for it because they are worried about anaphylactic shock and death. Wusses. So the net result is how soon do I want a hip replacement?
12/31 Never did finish this post, so I will now. We had a lousy Christmas, mostly my fault for treating John like he was a kid, and then he escalated it and it all spun out of control. He left early for Santa Cruz, grabbing at his independence. I am sure he is very torn, so independent and still so dependent moneywise. Then again, he didn't work all summer so WTF. I talked to him today and he is getting over it. Funny thing happened, Dana was cleaning his room for Rita nad Robert's non-visit and found the iPod that went missing some 2 years ago, stuck on the inside of the bed frame. I bet Mike's nano will show up too someday.
I won the season football pool - I won four of the weekly pools, and went into today with a 3 pick lead, and ended the day with a 3 pick lead. Hooah. Didn't even know I was a peerless pigskin prognosticator. Hit ~70%, no spreads. Netted about $250 I think. I suppose now I should throw the Superbowl party here. Net $0. Easy come easy go.
Landscaping in the backyard is almost done, a few more hundred paver bricks. Armando is taking his time, very meticulous, I would've had it done a month ago, but I'm not paying by the hour. I did help him a little today because I feel bad for him, and my back is letting me know that I am stupid. Life has lots of ways to remind you that you're stupid - bakc, hips, knees, hair, kids, spouses, cops, bosses, employees, mirrors. Dogs are cool though, they hardly ever say anything negative. Our dog Woody is awesome. I think this is partly because he is gelded, snipped, ballsless. We should do this to all world leaders too, then our war budget wouldn't be 200 times the UN peace budget. Happy New Year and belated Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and Boxer Day too.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
boo
That's right, not boo hoo, just boo. We had 450 trick or treaters last night, yumpin yiminy. They bus them in from all over town. Nice safe neighborhood, good treats, close houses. Just the kind of place we targeted as kids.
This blog is winding down, I just don't have much to say about my health, since it is fine. I had my next to last bone marrow biopsy last Friday, and I was a little nervous since I have had this lingering cold for about 4 weeks. Thought maybe those white blood cells weren't getting it done. Not to fear, the doc called today and said I am clean, at least my bone marrow is clean of leukemia. So, 3 more months of chemo and we are done with this. I still take my daily, weekly and monthly doses, and still have minimal impact from them.
The daughter of a guy I work with is 6 months ahead of me with the same treatment from my doc, ALL = same disease, and she had a rough go right from the start, into dialysis as soon as she got to Stanford, and didn't get out of there for 7 weeks, and then had to stay near the hospital for some more time to keep her treatments going. She is fine now. Some months before her treatment ended she got the OK from the doc to have a few drinks now and then, with no problems.
So Beauch and I were going up to the Jade Festival and camping for a couple of nights back in mid-Oct, and I asked the doc if I could have some beers, and he said OK. I had 2 beers a night. And I had taken some Nyquil the week before. The next blood test my liver function tests high abnormal, and the doc says 'Well, I guess no alcohol'. Sheesh. Can't argue with that, the beers weren't that great anyway.
The freaking house remodel continues to go haywire at every opportunity. Nothing goes right unless it is done by someone that doesn't speak English. Figure that one out. Kitchen floor installed with the vapor barrier upside down, and had to be redone twice. Bathroom sinks lost in transit. Kitchen countertops cut too small, then the wrong color. New microwave needed microcircuit board replaced 3 times. Kitchen cabinet drawer fronts were wrong, as were the replacements, 3 times, and we finally gave up on that and kept the first ones. Bathroom tile job kinda sketchy. Found the big distressed look dining table on EBay 3 days after the new one we ordered was delivered, for less than half the price. Ouch.
The really amazing thing is the gall they have when they screw up. 'We're really busy now, why don't you install the new drawer fronts yourself?' Guess my answer. 'Do you mind if we take out a chunk of your countertop to match the color? We lost the piece that was cut too small. You will have to take out the stove and move back to the garage.' Guess my answer. The funny thing is I don't yell anymore, not for years now. I have learned how to tell them how far they are from reality without raising my voice. I love to summarize for these people, it helps them to see the light. Basically it ends up as 'So, you have screwed me 3 times, I didn't have an orgasm, you're not attractive and didn't use lubricant, I am not drunk, you have AIDS and herpes and don't wear a condom, and you want to know if I want to go again?'
Anyway, we are nearing the end of the remodel, our kitchen is functional if not finished, we have moved out of the garage, I bought the big screen TV Monday in time for the Patriots dominating performance! Landscaping is chugging along, and the whirlpool tub was set in its place today and can be used in a couple of days. I don't know where the glass wall and door are for the shower, and there is a lot of trim and tilework yet to be done in the kitchen, and we need a big honking buffet table, and if Dana has anything to say about it (she does), lots of other furniture.
Mikey played a gig tonight with the HS jazz band at a restaurant downtown. He was playing bass, which was a surprise as he usually plays guitar, but that's what they needed. Sure could use Earl and Mikey Greco to school him. Come on out, bring your axes. Johnny came home for the weekend, first time back from Sonoma, he needed supplies. I took him to Costco and stocked him up. He is having a great time at college, the kid was made for academia and babes. We all went to the HS football game to see Mike play with the marching band (he and the guitar are in the pit with the other non-marchers). First HS football game in a long time for Dana and I, first ever for Johnny.
The biggest miracle of late is that our marriage has survived the remodel. It was pretty close at times, but we are seeing the light at the end. I thought this would be done by Sept. 1, but now I will be happy to be final by Dec. 1. We are sick of the GC and his crew, and they are sick of us.
All of you that have sent me emails wondering if I was OK, thanks for your concern. When I am quiet all is well, and I hope to fall completely silent this coming Feb. Shhh. Make noise by voting.
This blog is winding down, I just don't have much to say about my health, since it is fine. I had my next to last bone marrow biopsy last Friday, and I was a little nervous since I have had this lingering cold for about 4 weeks. Thought maybe those white blood cells weren't getting it done. Not to fear, the doc called today and said I am clean, at least my bone marrow is clean of leukemia. So, 3 more months of chemo and we are done with this. I still take my daily, weekly and monthly doses, and still have minimal impact from them.
The daughter of a guy I work with is 6 months ahead of me with the same treatment from my doc, ALL = same disease, and she had a rough go right from the start, into dialysis as soon as she got to Stanford, and didn't get out of there for 7 weeks, and then had to stay near the hospital for some more time to keep her treatments going. She is fine now. Some months before her treatment ended she got the OK from the doc to have a few drinks now and then, with no problems.
So Beauch and I were going up to the Jade Festival and camping for a couple of nights back in mid-Oct, and I asked the doc if I could have some beers, and he said OK. I had 2 beers a night. And I had taken some Nyquil the week before. The next blood test my liver function tests high abnormal, and the doc says 'Well, I guess no alcohol'. Sheesh. Can't argue with that, the beers weren't that great anyway.
The freaking house remodel continues to go haywire at every opportunity. Nothing goes right unless it is done by someone that doesn't speak English. Figure that one out. Kitchen floor installed with the vapor barrier upside down, and had to be redone twice. Bathroom sinks lost in transit. Kitchen countertops cut too small, then the wrong color. New microwave needed microcircuit board replaced 3 times. Kitchen cabinet drawer fronts were wrong, as were the replacements, 3 times, and we finally gave up on that and kept the first ones. Bathroom tile job kinda sketchy. Found the big distressed look dining table on EBay 3 days after the new one we ordered was delivered, for less than half the price. Ouch.
The really amazing thing is the gall they have when they screw up. 'We're really busy now, why don't you install the new drawer fronts yourself?' Guess my answer. 'Do you mind if we take out a chunk of your countertop to match the color? We lost the piece that was cut too small. You will have to take out the stove and move back to the garage.' Guess my answer. The funny thing is I don't yell anymore, not for years now. I have learned how to tell them how far they are from reality without raising my voice. I love to summarize for these people, it helps them to see the light. Basically it ends up as 'So, you have screwed me 3 times, I didn't have an orgasm, you're not attractive and didn't use lubricant, I am not drunk, you have AIDS and herpes and don't wear a condom, and you want to know if I want to go again?'
Anyway, we are nearing the end of the remodel, our kitchen is functional if not finished, we have moved out of the garage, I bought the big screen TV Monday in time for the Patriots dominating performance! Landscaping is chugging along, and the whirlpool tub was set in its place today and can be used in a couple of days. I don't know where the glass wall and door are for the shower, and there is a lot of trim and tilework yet to be done in the kitchen, and we need a big honking buffet table, and if Dana has anything to say about it (she does), lots of other furniture.
Mikey played a gig tonight with the HS jazz band at a restaurant downtown. He was playing bass, which was a surprise as he usually plays guitar, but that's what they needed. Sure could use Earl and Mikey Greco to school him. Come on out, bring your axes. Johnny came home for the weekend, first time back from Sonoma, he needed supplies. I took him to Costco and stocked him up. He is having a great time at college, the kid was made for academia and babes. We all went to the HS football game to see Mike play with the marching band (he and the guitar are in the pit with the other non-marchers). First HS football game in a long time for Dana and I, first ever for Johnny.
The biggest miracle of late is that our marriage has survived the remodel. It was pretty close at times, but we are seeing the light at the end. I thought this would be done by Sept. 1, but now I will be happy to be final by Dec. 1. We are sick of the GC and his crew, and they are sick of us.
All of you that have sent me emails wondering if I was OK, thanks for your concern. When I am quiet all is well, and I hope to fall completely silent this coming Feb. Shhh. Make noise by voting.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Carp in my tunnel
8/12
I am still here, although it seems like I must be somewhere else too. There isn't that much here here anymore, and using the garage as living room/kitchen/dining room/garage is getting reeeaaallllyyy old. My health is fine, but this getting old is getting old. I started getting this numbness in my right forearm and hand, wild tingling sensation running down my arm, and I figured it was due to too much keyboard action at work and paintbrush action at home. But, I thought I should mention it to my doc, and he figured there was this off chance the leukemia had settled into my skull, where it likes to hide. He ordered up all kinds of tests, neuropathies, bone marrow biopsies, trigonometries, funky blood tests, CBCs, met panels and 8x10 glossy photos with circles and arrows on the back explaining what I might have.
So I went to see the nerve people. You all know I have plenty of nerve, but they had to check. They hooked me up to this Abu Ghraib castoff machine, put a bunch of electrodes on me, and started zapping and ramping the juice until I was jumping, shouting 'Kill, Kill', and my muscles were twitching and fingers flailing and arms a flapping, and I asked for more so they hooked up the other side and did it again. Man, what a rush! They said I had a lot of nerve.
So then they took this long needle with a wire on it, to test my conductivity in case the lights went out, and they stuck it in the back of my neck. I love how they always say 'Little bee sting here', and it is never like a little bee sting. If you've been stung by a bee, you know those suckers last a while, throbbing so you can take your pulse off it even after an hour. The needle sticks last about 3 seconds and then they don't hurt. This was like that too, more like acupuncture, and it turns out I am conductive because I shorted the breaker on their panel. They got it fixed up and stuck the needle in a bunch of other places, in my arms and hands, and then the doc said 'Well, I know what you have', and she handed me this handout, and it said 'Carpal tunnel'. I said 'Wow, doc, that's great news!', because it was really, since I didn't have any little leukemia bastards hiding in my skull or spine or eyeballs and probably didn't have to get all those other tests and I hated trigonometry. It was a sine, but don't get me off on a tangent.
So now I can look forward to these crazy tingly shooting buzzes going down my arm into my hand every now and then, and I get to wear one of those cool braces on my hand, and it is very fun painting and trying not to drop the brush when the whole thing starts in to humming, but I am going lefty more.
The freaking remodel is going through some real slow phases, but things are looking up. The plastic that was draped all over the place is gone, but the fine layer of dust remains, and it will remain, because now the texture guys have to come back and fix some areas they didn't texture well. The kitchen cabinets are going in, the countertop guys have taken their measurements, the stucco guys are lost in outer space, the tile guy quit cause he didn't like the tile we chose, too complicated, see ya loser. I am trying to get ahead of them and paint, but I've passed them and I may have to repaint. After I painted the kitchen Dana decided she didn't like the color, so I repainted that, luckily it was an easy job with all the cabinets covering most of the walls, and this was before the cabinets were there.
8/20 I went off looking for a photo, and started trying to post it about 3 days ago, but freaking blogger couldn't get it up. Photo erectile dysfunction. Maybe I'll try again. Dana and I took John off to college Friday, to Sonoma State, the end of an era and beginning of an era. He would have been happy if we could have just dumped him and his stuff at the curb, he was in such a rush to get rid of us. Dana was ready to buy him a new Ipod, cell phone, laptop, anything to ensure he won't forget us, but I held her back. He is cooked and done, let's hope he is smarter than I was at 18 (or 28 or 38 or now, for that matter). Dana was sure she would get all teary, and was sure I would too, but something about the way John was literally pushing us out of his dorm kept us from lamenting too much.
It's now Sunday and that means I have to get more paint and do more painting. Mikey is coming back from a week in Big Sur camping with friends, and Dana has gone off to get him. I wonder if I have reached some blogger size limit, as I can't get any photos on the site. I will post now so you can see I am still alive, doing fine. Tomorrow starts steroid week, so I have to go get a blood test.
I am still here, although it seems like I must be somewhere else too. There isn't that much here here anymore, and using the garage as living room/kitchen/dining room/garage is getting reeeaaallllyyy old. My health is fine, but this getting old is getting old. I started getting this numbness in my right forearm and hand, wild tingling sensation running down my arm, and I figured it was due to too much keyboard action at work and paintbrush action at home. But, I thought I should mention it to my doc, and he figured there was this off chance the leukemia had settled into my skull, where it likes to hide. He ordered up all kinds of tests, neuropathies, bone marrow biopsies, trigonometries, funky blood tests, CBCs, met panels and 8x10 glossy photos with circles and arrows on the back explaining what I might have.
So I went to see the nerve people. You all know I have plenty of nerve, but they had to check. They hooked me up to this Abu Ghraib castoff machine, put a bunch of electrodes on me, and started zapping and ramping the juice until I was jumping, shouting 'Kill, Kill', and my muscles were twitching and fingers flailing and arms a flapping, and I asked for more so they hooked up the other side and did it again. Man, what a rush! They said I had a lot of nerve.
So then they took this long needle with a wire on it, to test my conductivity in case the lights went out, and they stuck it in the back of my neck. I love how they always say 'Little bee sting here', and it is never like a little bee sting. If you've been stung by a bee, you know those suckers last a while, throbbing so you can take your pulse off it even after an hour. The needle sticks last about 3 seconds and then they don't hurt. This was like that too, more like acupuncture, and it turns out I am conductive because I shorted the breaker on their panel. They got it fixed up and stuck the needle in a bunch of other places, in my arms and hands, and then the doc said 'Well, I know what you have', and she handed me this handout, and it said 'Carpal tunnel'. I said 'Wow, doc, that's great news!', because it was really, since I didn't have any little leukemia bastards hiding in my skull or spine or eyeballs and probably didn't have to get all those other tests and I hated trigonometry. It was a sine, but don't get me off on a tangent.
So now I can look forward to these crazy tingly shooting buzzes going down my arm into my hand every now and then, and I get to wear one of those cool braces on my hand, and it is very fun painting and trying not to drop the brush when the whole thing starts in to humming, but I am going lefty more.
The freaking remodel is going through some real slow phases, but things are looking up. The plastic that was draped all over the place is gone, but the fine layer of dust remains, and it will remain, because now the texture guys have to come back and fix some areas they didn't texture well. The kitchen cabinets are going in, the countertop guys have taken their measurements, the stucco guys are lost in outer space, the tile guy quit cause he didn't like the tile we chose, too complicated, see ya loser. I am trying to get ahead of them and paint, but I've passed them and I may have to repaint. After I painted the kitchen Dana decided she didn't like the color, so I repainted that, luckily it was an easy job with all the cabinets covering most of the walls, and this was before the cabinets were there.
8/20 I went off looking for a photo, and started trying to post it about 3 days ago, but freaking blogger couldn't get it up. Photo erectile dysfunction. Maybe I'll try again. Dana and I took John off to college Friday, to Sonoma State, the end of an era and beginning of an era. He would have been happy if we could have just dumped him and his stuff at the curb, he was in such a rush to get rid of us. Dana was ready to buy him a new Ipod, cell phone, laptop, anything to ensure he won't forget us, but I held her back. He is cooked and done, let's hope he is smarter than I was at 18 (or 28 or 38 or now, for that matter). Dana was sure she would get all teary, and was sure I would too, but something about the way John was literally pushing us out of his dorm kept us from lamenting too much.
It's now Sunday and that means I have to get more paint and do more painting. Mikey is coming back from a week in Big Sur camping with friends, and Dana has gone off to get him. I wonder if I have reached some blogger size limit, as I can't get any photos on the site. I will post now so you can see I am still alive, doing fine. Tomorrow starts steroid week, so I have to go get a blood test.
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