Maybe that should be the new title of my memoir and this blogger. Perhaps The Year of Death is indeed, um, too Freddie Kruegeresque.
I think I remember why I gave it that title--the death of cancer, blah blah blah; radiation and chemo in dark winter, blah blah blah; perhaps the rebirth of my belief is kinda like the death of, well, enough already. You get the point.
By the way, that title is more appropriate for this year's Cubs' season.
Sorry, Sir Ron.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Close to the Edge 2009
Karla's friend brought two friends from Cinci to stay with us this weekend. They had tickets to see U2 at Soldier Field. Our football field. The first of two nights.
The world acted like a spaceship had landed in Chicago.
Next thing you know, the Edge said hello. Or potato. Or something like that with a couple of strings on an expensive guitar.
He saw Karla and said like an Irishman might say, I play guitar, right? Why not stop backstage after the show?
Little did she know that backstage meant meant Io. The moon. U2, in fact, was from Jupiter.
And all this happened, you see, while I was at temple. On a Saturday night. Near midnight. S'lichot, it's called--the post-Shabbat, pre-Rosh Hashanah holiday, identifying my sins, confessing them, then requesting forgiveness.
I'd never done this before. As a holiday, I mean.
But I did cuz this was like prep work to get written in the Book of Life. For another Year. Another Good Year.
And I'm glad I went. Papa's spirit smiled. And I learned something. Rabbi Doug said: The O.T. God is not like Jesus. He/she doesn't love everyone all the time. You have to keep praying. You have to keep knocking at the door. You have to keep ringing the bell. And then god has no choice. God's love is like gravity.
Look, I know none of this is making any sense right now. But that's where meditation comes in. And that's why I ought to do it every day. Focus on why. Focus on life. Focus on love.
The world acted like a spaceship had landed in Chicago.
Next thing you know, the Edge said hello. Or potato. Or something like that with a couple of strings on an expensive guitar.
He saw Karla and said like an Irishman might say, I play guitar, right? Why not stop backstage after the show?
Little did she know that backstage meant meant Io. The moon. U2, in fact, was from Jupiter.
And all this happened, you see, while I was at temple. On a Saturday night. Near midnight. S'lichot, it's called--the post-Shabbat, pre-Rosh Hashanah holiday, identifying my sins, confessing them, then requesting forgiveness.
I'd never done this before. As a holiday, I mean.
But I did cuz this was like prep work to get written in the Book of Life. For another Year. Another Good Year.
And I'm glad I went. Papa's spirit smiled. And I learned something. Rabbi Doug said: The O.T. God is not like Jesus. He/she doesn't love everyone all the time. You have to keep praying. You have to keep knocking at the door. You have to keep ringing the bell. And then god has no choice. God's love is like gravity.
Look, I know none of this is making any sense right now. But that's where meditation comes in. And that's why I ought to do it every day. Focus on why. Focus on life. Focus on love.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Labor Day Poem for Cancer Patients
laborious |ləˈbôrēəs|
adjective
(esp. of a task, process, or journey) requiring considerable effort and time : years of laborious training | the work is very slow and laborious. See note at hard
So is learning to play a musical instrument,
to create art, to write. Does that make cancer art?
No, you idiot. Cancer is hell.
What about the pharmaceutical industry?
You've been watching too much TV. Or been online.
(You haven't been reading the newspaper, have you?)
Cancer is laborious. So is baking bread.
So is fixing cars. Paying the mechanic.
Taking a shit while constipated is laborious.
Jerry Lewis is still on TV raising money for MD.
And Ed McMahon is dead. With Johnny.
Some say love is labor. I say it is easi-
er than a 4-day workweek on a salary,
more difficult than chemo for love gets you through it.
Thesaurus
laborious
adjective
1 a laborious job arduous, hard, heavy, difficult, strenuous, grueling, punishing, exacting, tough, onerous, burdensome, back-breaking, labor-intensive, trying, challenging; tiring, fatiguing, exhausting, wearying, wearing, taxing, demanding, wearisome, tedious, boring, time-consuming; archaic toilsome
adjective
(esp. of a task, process, or journey) requiring considerable effort and time : years of laborious training | the work is very slow and laborious. See note at hard
So is learning to play a musical instrument,
to create art, to write. Does that make cancer art?
No, you idiot. Cancer is hell.
What about the pharmaceutical industry?
You've been watching too much TV. Or been online.
(You haven't been reading the newspaper, have you?)
Cancer is laborious. So is baking bread.
So is fixing cars. Paying the mechanic.
Taking a shit while constipated is laborious.
Jerry Lewis is still on TV raising money for MD.
And Ed McMahon is dead. With Johnny.
Some say love is labor. I say it is easi-
er than a 4-day workweek on a salary,
more difficult than chemo for love gets you through it.
Thesaurus
laborious
adjective
1 a laborious job arduous, hard, heavy, difficult, strenuous, grueling, punishing, exacting, tough, onerous, burdensome, back-breaking, labor-intensive, trying, challenging; tiring, fatiguing, exhausting, wearying, wearing, taxing, demanding, wearisome, tedious, boring, time-consuming; archaic toilsome
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Yesterday's Colonoscopy--a poem, pictures included
yesterday a camera entered me
yes, i had a colonoscopy
cuz ever since chemotherapy
began so did its cousin:
constipation.
and with that came and went
blood on t.p.
o chemo, o chemotherapy
so i told my g.p.
(finally)
and this is what he said to me:
go downstairs and see
the gastro dude
and make sure that you doesn't be rude
cuz soon he's gonna stick somethin' some see as lewd:
he's gonna lube ya
but of course you'll
be on anesthesia
and i was
but i wasn't
asleep so i just
watched the live show on the tv
that was placed right in front of the dr. and me
and i want thee
to know
that the show
was worth going
to: it got 5 stars
my colon did, after that jar
of colon cleansing the night before
that all i can
compare is to damn,
i gotta run.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
For Ted Kennedy and My Fellow BTB Friend
In first grade, my favorite book was Four Days. Lots of pictures of President Kennedy's assassination. Oswald's murder, too. And other stuff. I must've taken it out of the library 40 or 55 times.
Well we woke up to the radio news today that his youngest brother died. Youngest at 77. And you know why. BT. Or BC. Whatever you want to call it. I almost laughed when I read AP's paragraph that Kennedy was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor in May 2008 and underwent surgery and a grueling regimen of radiation and chemotherapy. But that's because I almost cried this morning.
***
Two days ago Karla and I met a fellow BTB--brain tumor blogger--on a warm night downtown at Pritzker Pavilion. We had never seen each other before in person but we somehow figured things out. I pulled back my hair to show her my scar; she pulled back her scarf. We compared issues, problems, told each other she/he looked great, and laughed about things only cancer survivors and partners can understand.
Then she left, and Karla and I walked around an acoustic and geometric joy on what may have been the last warm Monday night before school begins again. Maybe that's the good news I should have typed first.
Take that back. Always end on a happy note.
Like Ted, we'll take care of these health care bullshit issues, one of which, I might add, is a cure for brain cancer.
Amen.
Well we woke up to the radio news today that his youngest brother died. Youngest at 77. And you know why. BT. Or BC. Whatever you want to call it. I almost laughed when I read AP's paragraph that Kennedy was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor in May 2008 and underwent surgery and a grueling regimen of radiation and chemotherapy. But that's because I almost cried this morning.
***
Two days ago Karla and I met a fellow BTB--brain tumor blogger--on a warm night downtown at Pritzker Pavilion. We had never seen each other before in person but we somehow figured things out. I pulled back my hair to show her my scar; she pulled back her scarf. We compared issues, problems, told each other she/he looked great, and laughed about things only cancer survivors and partners can understand.
Then she left, and Karla and I walked around an acoustic and geometric joy on what may have been the last warm Monday night before school begins again. Maybe that's the good news I should have typed first.
Take that back. Always end on a happy note.
Like Ted, we'll take care of these health care bullshit issues, one of which, I might add, is a cure for brain cancer.
Amen.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
7 Step Recipe for Brain Tumor (& other cancer?) Patients
*Not sure of the proper order.
**I ain't a doc but a long-term patient. Who better to trust?
***I'll do my best to provide links to everything instead of spending forever describing details.
1. Eat a gluten free, healthy, vegie diet. Add kefir and turmeric. The first two help digestion and the last one is supposed to kill that cancer. You can shake it on tons of things and it's cheap as heck. It's also a great excuse to eat vegetarian southern Indian food (although not all food is gluten free, so be aware).
2. Get enough sleep. Especially if you work. Especially if you work full-time.
2a. Melatonin at bedtime. I take a lot and have for a while, but that's because of something Karla read many years ago. I suggest reading this link at emedtv.com that tells you a whole lot about the pros and cons.
3. Tongue sores or mouth sores? Ask your dentist for Chlorhexidine Gluconate Oral Rinse USP, o.12%. It's a mouthwash by prescription that may burn while swishing, but my dentist gave me some and it helped a lot. (And I still use it sometimes.)
3a. They're probably officially called canker sores. You can also just go crazy with baking soda and water. At the same time, make sure you're taking zinc as well as folic acid. Lots of the latter. This, I think, is the best way to deal with it.
4. Don't let #1 stop you from a whiskey or a gin martini or a glass or two of wine or a gluten free beer when you feel like having one. Life is too short. For some of us.
5. Say El Na Rifa Na La a lot. It's a Kabbalah phrase that means Thank you, Lord, for healing, and continuing to heal me always. If you don't want to say the word Lord, just thank something or someone for healing you. Believe you are being healed. For that's the only way you can be healed.
6. Enjoy your life as much as you can. Remember your five senses.
7. Love.
**I ain't a doc but a long-term patient. Who better to trust?
***I'll do my best to provide links to everything instead of spending forever describing details.
1. Eat a gluten free, healthy, vegie diet. Add kefir and turmeric. The first two help digestion and the last one is supposed to kill that cancer. You can shake it on tons of things and it's cheap as heck. It's also a great excuse to eat vegetarian southern Indian food (although not all food is gluten free, so be aware).
2. Get enough sleep. Especially if you work. Especially if you work full-time.
2a. Melatonin at bedtime. I take a lot and have for a while, but that's because of something Karla read many years ago. I suggest reading this link at emedtv.com that tells you a whole lot about the pros and cons.
3. Tongue sores or mouth sores? Ask your dentist for Chlorhexidine Gluconate Oral Rinse USP, o.12%. It's a mouthwash by prescription that may burn while swishing, but my dentist gave me some and it helped a lot. (And I still use it sometimes.)
3a. They're probably officially called canker sores. You can also just go crazy with baking soda and water. At the same time, make sure you're taking zinc as well as folic acid. Lots of the latter. This, I think, is the best way to deal with it.
4. Don't let #1 stop you from a whiskey or a gin martini or a glass or two of wine or a gluten free beer when you feel like having one. Life is too short. For some of us.
5. Say El Na Rifa Na La a lot. It's a Kabbalah phrase that means Thank you, Lord, for healing, and continuing to heal me always. If you don't want to say the word Lord, just thank something or someone for healing you. Believe you are being healed. For that's the only way you can be healed.
6. Enjoy your life as much as you can. Remember your five senses.
7. Love.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Dr. A Shot the Ear Wax
Dr. A took the metal blaster filled with water and hydrogen peroxide and he kept shooting it into my left ear. Was it sexy or was it silly? Was it messy? Was it useless?
I still heard nothing.
I had just read how radiation might cause eventual deafness in one ear and you know what? I came to realize that for weeks, that for months, that damn left ear had weaker hearing than the right. Was I making this up? Was brain tumor boy now hypochondriac?
I didn't hear you.
The solution was getting all over my t-shirt, my shoulder, down my stomach, and onto the floor, then my right ear recognized a sound: they had found something. But it was not enough. He kept shooting. And shooting. And he found something again. But I still heard nothing from my left ear. I was worried. But Dr. A was not. He had seen this before.
Boom/squirt, boom/squirt, boom/squirt, again and again, until, Wow! I was staring at the floor, but I felt the nurse and Karla and Doc A squint in awe at something strange and larger than expected being pulled out.
All of a sudden I could hear again.
And I saw the brown curls like tiny burnt macaroni in the sink.
It has nothing to do with your brain tumor, he said. Just come on by for a cleaning next time you're having trouble hearing.
When we stepped outside I heard the wind. And I hear the wind now. And I hear the ice cream truck song singing on a Saturday afternoon on the first day of August when it's only 71 degrees.
I still heard nothing.
I had just read how radiation might cause eventual deafness in one ear and you know what? I came to realize that for weeks, that for months, that damn left ear had weaker hearing than the right. Was I making this up? Was brain tumor boy now hypochondriac?
I didn't hear you.
The solution was getting all over my t-shirt, my shoulder, down my stomach, and onto the floor, then my right ear recognized a sound: they had found something. But it was not enough. He kept shooting. And shooting. And he found something again. But I still heard nothing from my left ear. I was worried. But Dr. A was not. He had seen this before.
Boom/squirt, boom/squirt, boom/squirt, again and again, until, Wow! I was staring at the floor, but I felt the nurse and Karla and Doc A squint in awe at something strange and larger than expected being pulled out.
All of a sudden I could hear again.
And I saw the brown curls like tiny burnt macaroni in the sink.
It has nothing to do with your brain tumor, he said. Just come on by for a cleaning next time you're having trouble hearing.
When we stepped outside I heard the wind. And I hear the wind now. And I hear the ice cream truck song singing on a Saturday afternoon on the first day of August when it's only 71 degrees.
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