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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

grrrr

where am I?

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.

School of hard knocks

Steroid week and that means it's time for an update. 6:22, ate my breakfast, read the paper, perused the internet and heading for a pill party. I met with the doc yesterday for the first time in a few months, and he reaffirmed that I am essentially cured, or as I paraphrased him, "I am free to die of something else." Blood counts are all fine, chemo is having no ill effects, pass Go, go to the next doctor for some other pain.

I had an Xray of my left hip that showed osteo-arthritis, and then an MRI to see if there was any necrosis, and there is not, which is good because that sometimes happens with chemo and cancer. Now I want to get a nice big shot of prednisone in the hip and give me 3 months of walking pain-free.

Good thing too, because this job is killing me. Nah, just kidding, I am having fun and love a job that is challenging and diverse. The good thing about the old turds I find is, they don't smell, but the bad thing is, they don't smell. Manitoubou, an old bookkeeping turd is something such as a misapplied payment or a missing invoice copy from a year ago that the customer has not paid, and now you are them to pay, and of course the first thing they want is a copy of the invoice. Not unsolvable, but time consuming. I am wading through these turds and sending them to the compost heap, but want to get through this phase and on to my core competency of telling other people what to do.


Live Oak was great as usual, but seemed too thick with Zydeco and Mardi Gras music, not as eclectic as in years past, not much bluegrass. I didn't think it really got going until Sunday night, when the African band Baaba Mal got everyone jumping, followed by Arlo Guthrie, who brought down the house. He remarked, and it is true, how the old protest songs seem to have relevance again. He was very funny, my kids loved him, and it was like old times. I ran spotlight at a concert of his at URI in '79 I think, or '78, and he was sick of doing his old stuff then, but not now, and we all had a great time playing with the pencils and filling in the boxes on the Group W bench.

Young John has graduated, yippee, and I will delay this posting until tonight so I can add his graduating picture. Dana and he and I went to Sonoma State (40 miles north of San Francisco, Pat) last Thursday night for 1 1/2 days of orientation Friday and Saturday. We all stayed in the dorms, which are 6 person suites, 4 bedrooms (2 double 2 single) that share a kitchen and living room, each bedroom with it's own bath. Not like Butterfield at URI. I thought I might finally get lucky in a college dorm, but it was not to be. Maybe when Mikey goes to college.


Anyway, about ten guys and ninety girls attended the orientation. Yikes, John is going to be busy! Seriously, it was the teenage girl babe-o-rama. The ratio at Sonoma is 2:1, but orientation was 8:1 or more. Each guy there had to sit at a table of girls, and I give them credit for not being terrified and huddling up. I guess the other guys don't need to orient, they can get lost on their own, we know that. The campus is great, small college feel, and it is with about 5000 students, 1/3 the size of URI or Cal Poly, in the suburbs of Rohnert Park. Brand new gym just for the non-athletes, new library, new music building, new science building, it smelled like money. Should be great.


The level of poemerizing has really moved up, I have to seriously consider the Poems of the HolyCow Blog as an anthology that needs publishing to the masses. It just needs a little funding.


Speaking of funding, my neighbors Janice and Carolyn have a Team in Training team that will run in the half-marathon in October and raise donations to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I will include their letter here so you can read it for yourself.

Dear Family & Friends,

We have exciting news! My daughter Carolyn and I have joined forces to raise money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society! For the next five months, we will be training with other Team in Training participants to complete the Nike Women’s Half Marathon in San Francisco, on Sunday, October 22, 2006! We have never done anything like this before and are excited to share the adventure together.

So why are we doing this? We want to take advantage of this opportunity to share precious mother-daughter time together before Carolyn goes off to college in the not too distant future. We look forward to the physical challenge of running a half-marathon. And most importantly, we want to contribute to finding a cure for blood-related cancers. Our next door neighbor, John, is currently fighting Leukemia. While we have not been very involved in his battle, we feel that participating in Team in Training might be a way to show solidarity for him.

And where do YOU come in? We have made a commitment to raise
$5,200 by August. You can help us achieve this goal by making a tax-deductible donation to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Your contribution is needed and WILL make a difference! Act now! Your donation will bring us one step closer to a cure.

Along with your donation, please send us names of cancer victims or survivors you would like us to include on our pace bands. Each of our 13.1 miles will be dedicated to these honorable people. Their names will become a meditation at the start of each mile to give each step purpose and meaning. Along with the names you share with us, we will be running in honor of our neighbor John Fiore, and in memory of Ray, a family friend who died of Lymphoma.

THANK YOU for your consideration and support,

Janice and Carolyn Campbell
______________________________________________________________________
Mail donor form (below) with check to:
Janice Campbell, 4384 Wavertree
Street, San Luis Obispo, CA, 93401
I will make a tax deductible donation in support of Janice & Carolyn Campbell’s participation in the Nike Women’s Half Marathon
Make Checks payable to: The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society
Amount:
______________________________________________________
Name:
______________________________________________________
Address: ______________________________________________________
City, State,Zip_____________________________________________________
Email:
______________________________________________________

To make an easy on line credit card donation, go to the following web address: http://www.active.com/donate/tntgla/tntglaCCampbe OR http://www.active.com/donate/tntgla/tntglaJCampbe

I know I tapped you all for white blood cells last March, and that worked great, but without the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society funding research on these diseases I may not be here, so if there is any way you can make a donation please do so.

The house is going ever soooo slooooow, delays on windows are costing us money faster than I can make it. It's 7 am Wednesday and I have to go to work.

The Barry Bonds of Chemo

4am, day 2 of steroid/vincristine/slam week. I could get a lot more done if I could get a shower without waking everyone up. Let me say rht now, beoe I fogt, don ev buy a Micosof wreles keybord and mose, thy suck@! OK. I'll pay attention now. As I was saying, Barry Bonds week. I feel great, a little stomach ache but that's OK, throw some Tums into the pit and all is well. I'll go see the doc today for my monthly checkup and smack of vincristine. The numb fingertips and toes have never progressed beyond the tips, and I have compensated so that I hardly think about that unless I think about that.

All that poemerizing was awesome, felt like I was back at URI, or maybe a nice advanced care facility. Here is mine
Think that I am Barry Bonds
or maybe just a hopped up Fonz
give me yoga and tai chi
eight glasses of water
and then laugh and pee
4 am and nowhere to go
no wine no pot and no spiced ho
Cindy's kidney is now a pie
they got the cancer
stabbed it in the eye
threw it down and Abu Ghraibed it
now she don't have no more of that shit
Raise a glass of whatever you got
to Cindy's now departed part.

Sort of stream of conscience maybe, if I had one, or consciousness if I wasn't so often. Stream of consent? Stream of nonsense? Stream? Out of steam? So it would seem.

I worked about 15 hours this long weekend, digging up the turds of old bookkeepers. I hope to get through the archaeology phase of this job soon and move into new territory. Dana and Mike and I went to see the new XMen movie, it rocked. If you go, make sure to stay through the credits, there is a quick tickler at the end.

The house is not progressing much, I think they nailed up five boards last week. Hmmmmm. Dana keeps doing a circular dance with the windows/doors/rough openings/contractor/kitchen designer/dishwasher left or right. She is losing patience, but she has one of the most bitchingest second grade classrooms you ever did see, ask anyone. For a half-time teacher, she sure puts in some hours, like 40/week, and I don't think they are all just to get away from me and this house.

OK, gonna go get coffee now, then shave the weakass hair nubs off my head, take a cold shower in the backyard, pick splinters and nails out of my feet, put on California casual wear by some designer type that Dana bought me so I don't look too much like my father at 75, and go to work, driving the gals that work for me crazy by tearing up their old job descriptions which they never had and giving them new ones. All that by 8:45 am. We're gonna need lots more poemry, because all I do now is work, and I can't blog about that too much.

I had leukemia but now it's gone
with Cindy's kidney to the great beyond
I now have chemo
like Barry Bonds
'cept I have a conscience
and he has a pond
This job and house are now killing me
but this too shall pass, just wait and see

Reality is for those that can't handle drugs

This reality thing is not all it's cracked up to be. My house is a shambles, kitchen gone, dining room gone, computer room gone. It rained about an inch today, and I had to squeegee water off the slab so it didn't get under the hardwood flooring that remains. We are eating off plastic plates and bowls, and doing any dishes in the bathroom sink.

My health is fine, same old same old, take the pills, drink the water, pee pee pee. I spent last week in Reno, at the main office of my new job. We decided to call me Director of Operations for TEC SLO. TEC Reno is about 18 years old, an engineering firm that does land and water resource planning, engineering consulting, design and planning, surveying, and some other stuff. TEC SLO is only about 15 months old and does the consulting, design and planning, and survey stuff for now. TEC had picked up a big job here and decided to open the SLO office, and now has grown to the point where they need someone like me to bring order to the chaos. Kind of a harmonics/resonance thing, know what I'm saying? Check us out at http://www.thiel-engineering.com/.

We still can't nail the windows and doors guys down, and this is getting critical. Dana has rearranged the kitchen plan so much I am thinking of just doing it out of Legos, couldn't be that much more expensive. We had the big yard sale and made about $750 bucks selling what I originally paid $10,000 for, but hey, now I have room for plastic spoons in my garage/kitchen!

Tomorrow will be my first full day in the new office, so it should be interesting meeting the people. My boss, the CFO, is coming down from Reno with another of the owners tomorrow, so we'll have some meetings and lunches and grind out some decisions. Mike B. wanted me to watch the office to prep for going back to office life, but I am always ready to tell people what they should be doing, ask any Republican! Where the heck is Osama bin Laden, anyway?

My friend Cindy just had a kidney taken out, seems there was a little malignancy in there, so please everyone send her some positive thougths of whatever type you have, some chi, some reiki, some oon yellymon. She will be fine, they got it all and it was very early, and they threw in the liposuction and butt tuck at no extra charge! She's ten pounds lighter already! I shoulda got the blepharoplasty when I was in, I had a coupon 2 eyes for the price of 1, I could've gotten rid of the baggage terminals under my eyes. Oh well, better to grow older than to not grow older, I think. Isn't it? I found this poem by Ogden Nash, one of my favorites for a humorous poem, but I didn't find this one all that funny.

Old Men
People expect old men to die,
They do not really mourn old men.
Old men are different. People look
At them with eyes that wonder when ...
People watch with unshocked eyes;
But the old men know when an old man dies.

This from the same Ogden Nash, more typical

Lines on Facing Forty
I have a bone to pick with fate,
Come here and tell me girly,
Do you think my mind is maturing late,
Or simply rotting early.