The new weblog is based on the current version of MTOS 5 (Movable Type Open Source 5).
You can read all about it in the first entry of the new installation posted here � Movable Type Open Source (MTOS 5) � The Final Freebie from Six Apart (again).
You can find all the new entries for the new weblog listed here � NEW ENTRIES LISTED HERE.
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Speaking of teaching .. I would like to share with you an article written about our community colleges ..
.. which I found very interesting .. titled � The Promise and Failure of Community Colleges.
Which basically says that � "a very large group of young Americans are not prepared, either financially, cognitively or socially, for that kind of education."
Because only ~8% of community college students transfer to a 4-year college (.. like the Film school girl did) ..
.. and only one third will earn a two-year degree within 6 years.
I have spent considerable time at community colleges .. mostly in California, so I feel qualified to comment.
Especially since both the dog and my brother went to Ivy league schools (Columbia & Yale). Both home-town schools.
You may find it interesting that roughly HALF of all students enrolled in college at any given time .. are studying at a community college.
Wow, that's a lot.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���My favorite paragraph from the piece reads �
Perhaps the true challenge is even earlier, from birth to age 3 or 4, as the Nobel laureate (Economics) James Heckman (age 70) from the University of Chicago has been urging for years, when investments in cognitive and emotional capabilities have an enormous impact on children's future development.
Nicholas Kristof would concur. He breaks it down for you here. I like him. I like him a lot.
I have often thought over the years, knowing what I know now, about the courses that would most _enhance_ a person's life .. throughout his entire life ..
.. because now that I am a dad, you want to be able to guide your children in ways that will benefit them most. You want to share valuable advice.
For example, here are some courses that I find particularly worth taking. Hopefully you can see the wisdom in such courses:
I should probably mention that Claire says you will need social skills .. if you want to make serious bank .. citing Demings latest paper (August, 2015).
Claire's "Deming" is obviously not the management guru who died back in 1993, and who you might've heard of if you ever did any of that management stuff.
Yes, you will need social skills; that goes without saying. (You need social skills for more than just employment. You know.)
I have never heard of a class that teaches social skills. Have you?
Social skills is a big subject. But you basically want to be comfortable operating in ANY social environment in which you might find yourself. No?
I have participated in those personality-type programs, where a consulting group comes in and has you fill out questionnaires, which you also give to 4 or 5 people with whom you interact regularly.
It is fun stuff for sure, and quite revealing .. to learn what people think of you and your personality.
But the gist of the study is to teach you helpful tips to get along better with people who are different from us (.. including assholes).
Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People (1936) is a great book along these lines. Chock full of practical, insightful advice. You could read that book multiple times and still not master all its techniques.
My own approach along these lines seem to be something like �
Then be content to offer suggestion to them privately and let them run with them and do you best to help make your (boss(es) look good.
If your suggestions and advice and help is worth a shit . they will take care of you, my friend. Dont you fret none about it.
Getting to know people .. learning who they really are .. without judging them .. this is the essence of sociability, no?
Did you notice that Claire also references James Heckman (the Nobelist) who I mention up above?
Kudos to her, because I have never even considered the topic .. an obviously important topic.
Regarding Claire's reference to preschool .. I recall how it took two aides to peel my son off of me .. the first time I dropped him off there at preschool ..
.. while he was crying in severe distress. (For court-ordered drop-offs.) That fucked me up. Dazed-n-confused. Rips your heart out.
Which is why I can recall the moment so vividly .. like the emotional trauma of the pain is somehow seared deep into your soul. Most exquisite, I must say. (And not in the good way.)
Have you seen this, Claire?
Oh, look at this .. Claire Cain continues to kick ass. This is great stuff. An outstanding idea. An education within an education.
Exposure to other cultures. Talk about life-enriching.
Here she is again .. following up on social skills. She kicks ass. I like her.
Note that this interview with Eva Moskowitz, who is the founder of Success Academy Charter Schools in New York City says (at t=0:35 remaining) ..
.. that all kindergarteners are given classes in coding. Wow.
Double wow.
I just hope that they are also encouraging some rebellious, outside-the-box thinking.
Because our public education box has been sucking lately.
Oh, check this out.
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I also feel that all students should be exposed to the basic principles and techniques of � Goal Setting ..
.. including the creation of tangible steps needed to achieve the goal and overcome the inevitable obstacle.
The first few times you walk thru the steps associated with Goal Setting, it can seem mechanical.
But soon enough you start to get the hang of it and can see the big picture more clearly.
I use the techniques associated with Goal Setting to learn the art and craft of � Writing.
Which meant that I read a shitload of books on the subject.
And I read after writers who are widely respected.
But most all, the writer needs to � write .. in order to develop his voice.
His own, personal voice. Unlike any other voice out there.
So that's what I did.
Every day, you learn a little more. Every day, you develop your craft and your sullen art a little more.
Periodically you break out of your comfort zone to challenge yourself with new things. Ever more difficult things.
Things you're not sure that you can pull off. And especially things that you are afraid to even attempt.
Then I started looking into (and exploring) the creative process.
Regarding education in general, I've always felt resonance with what is written in Proverbs � Wise men store up knowledge.
Here too, where it says � Make your ear attentive to wisdom.
Daniel says that God gave the four Hebrew children � "knowledge and intelligence in every branch of literature..."
Most of all I like what it says � here.
I also feel that focus should be put on the interface to the digital world, which would include basic server administration, web design and scripting.
No discussion of education would be complete without at least mentioning the importance and value of a lifelong commitment to reading.
I knew this Cuban guy named Big Al from the coffee shop.
He's the one who gave me a copy of Cormac's The Road. "I bet you'll enjoy this."
Big Al told me of an interesting program whereby he reads � two hours every day.
Preferably at the coffee shop.
A Cuban dude.
He reads whatever books happen to strike his fancy at the time. But usually he reads non-fiction, fact-based, scientific or historical books.
As you might imagine, Big Al was better educated than most Americans .. about a wide range of subjects.
You could have an intelligent conversation with him on any number of interesting topics.
In the back of Big Al's station wagon are cardboard boxes full of books he has read ..
.. which he cant quite bring himself to getting rid of. (Tho he came close a few times.)
Big Al is a walking example of the value of continued lifelong reading.
It is impossible to convey to someone what I am talking about. They will only understand when they spend time every day educating themselves .. long past when school lets out.
I am talking about going beyond the Common Core, Well beyond.
Michael Matto was probably the most enthusiastically motivated person I have met. (Ever.)
He is the one who turned me on to books and tapes on motivational topics,
such as goal-setting and developing management skills.
By necessity, I needed to hone my time management skills,
cuz I was working 12-hour days at the plant and taking courses at the local community college.
Matto was famous for saying � "You'll be the same person five years from now, except for <masterful pause for effect> � the people you meet and the books you read."
From which one may draw many inferences .. but one of which is � you can meet people (get to know them rather well) thru their writings.
Obvious, no?
So the question becomes � who wants to be the same person in five years?
Speaking of reading and learning and being enthusiastically motivated .. this lady, Carol Dweck, a professor of Psychology at Standford ..
.. is supposed to be one of leading researchers on the subject of success and happiness.
She says to praise the students' process, not their ability.
My buddy the Dog, after he got out of the Navy, he got into Columbia university (in NYC).
At Columbia, they have an unusual program where the entire FIRST YEAR .. is spent reading many classical texts.
This is called the � Columbia Core Curriculum.
And I can tell you that I knew the Dog both before and after Columbia .. and the effect that the school had on him, the effect of the education, and particularly the effect of becoming familiar with all those classic texts ..
.. was dramatic. I could easily write a few paragraphs to characterize the changes that I witnessed, and I may indeed return later to do just such a thing. I'm sure I will.
[ One thing that stood out right away was � how humble he was. How understated.
And I remember thinking how my own academic tail feathers woulda surely been strutting about like a peacock or a rooster .. far more than he was doing.
He knew about so much really cool shit .. that you could have the most fascinating & engaging conversations with him. Really far-out shit.
Even after Columbia, he was still reading many books. He always had a fascinating stack beside his bed. I would pester him, asking, "What this one about, Dog? How about this one?"
One of the coolest things about the dog, and one that I have tried to emulate myself .. is how good he can make you feel about yourself.
He is just somebody who people like to be around. And he is very funny. With a leprechaun's sense of mischievous Irish humor.
I mean, out of all the fascinating characters that I met during the 6 years that I spent in the nuclear Navy .. he is the ONLY one that I am still in touch with.
Oh, look .. that's him calling right now.
Okay, I'm back. His mom just died of cancer. He was there. But she was old. She had lived a full life. (As a smoker.) His dad is still alive. Lives on the very next floor in a high-rise.
Dog craves the urban life. He cant sleep without the sound of sirens blaring all night long.
Anyway, I am very proud of the Dog. If you can't already tell. Especially after all that he has been thru.
He kicked ass in spite of .. not because of. If you feel me. ]
But for now, I will just say that it made him an impressive human being. I mean, the Dog is so impressive that merely standing near him makes you look good.
He was 6 years older (24 or 25) than most other students (18 or 19) .. so he may have gotten more out of the experience than his younger classmates.
Basically, you read a text and think about (consider, ponder, contemplate, meditate upon) what you've read.
Later you go to class and discuss what you've read with your super-smart Ivy League classmates.
A professor guides the class in the exploration of the text's main theme(s) and the reason(s) for its historical and literary importance.
Does that not sound like a very cool thing to do? Very interesting. Enriching. Life enriching.
The Literature Humanities (LitHum) texts are � here. The Contemporary Civilization (CC) texts es aqui � here.
I recall that David Denby, a Film critic at the New Yorker, returned to Columbia 30 years later and took the Core Curriculum classes all over again ..
.. and wrote about his experience in a piece called Great Books. I am trying not to feel jealous .. beyond the coolness of being a Film critic, which is one of the best jobs possible. Summary here.
His book at Amazon (1997).
[ Remind me to tell you the story about the Dog sleeping with his Writing Professor at Columbia. She gave him some special intensive tutoring. ]
Up above I merely said that my opinion of the Dog AFTER Columbia was that he struck me as � impressive.
[ A true statement. ]
This is a good place to elaborate and say that .. you can probably now see why the following paragraph resonated so well regarding the Dog and the effect that Columbia had on him.
This is Denby writing about Professor Tayler speaking in class ..
.. see here [ ~half-way down the page ] � Denby writes about going back to Columbia Core Curriculum.
"Don't get sucked in by false ideas," he said. "You're not here for political reasons. You're here for very selfish reasons. You're here to build a self. You create a self, you don't inherit it..."
You're here to build a self. Think about that.
If anybody would know, Tayler would.
The Dog had certainly built himself a self. I could see that.
A most impressive self. True that, what professor Tayler said.
(Dude, I hate to tell you .. but you're spelling your name wrong.)
I will vouch for the veracity of his statement.
Regarding Denby's 1997 book itself .. last I looked, a year at Columbia cost about $50- or $60K. Much as possible, Denby gives you, using his considerable skill set, his well-practiced skill set ..
.. he gives you an introduction to, and maybe even entr�e into .. the value that your otherwise pricey tuition at Columbia would ordinarily buy .. would ordinarily cost.
Your very own Columbia university inspired, Ivy League-grade � Build-a-Self starter kit.
Find your favorite photos of Columbia and send them off to the wallpaper printer and cover your walls with the images. But save one wall for print-outs of all the book covers .. so you can X them out as you go.
Then get Denby's book and order the titles listed in the Core curriculum and lock yourself up in your Columbia university wallpapered room for a semester or two while you read all those books. And read them selfishly.
Build yourself a self on the cheap. Then you won't have to default on your student loans like Lee.
If you go into your wallpapered room and read all those books, I guarantee that you won't be the same person when you come out. You will feel far wealthier than just $50- or $60-thousand dollars richer .. and everybody around you will notice.
I am not saying it would be easy .. only possible. But a chance is all that some people need.
Update June 21, 2015 � I will return to discuss it later, but for now I merely want to mention and reference this very cool op-ed, titled � Closed Minds, Great Books.
Because he seems to be saying a similar thing .. tho admittedly, he says it much better. Which is why I want to look closer later.
The thing inside me that evaluates a writer and/or his writing .. rates this highly. Very highly. He is a true stud, writing with easy authority and confidence. I rarely feel that kind of respect. Like the Cormac kind of respect.
So I google the guy. "Who are you Mr. Arnold Weinstein and where did you learn to write like that?"
And I pull up his Wikipedia page and discover the guy died in 2005.
And the voice my head says � "Dude, this guy is one bad mo-fo. He is writing an op-ed in the New York Times from the grave .. from 10 years in the grave. Looks like he has set the bar pretty high .. doncha think?"
I will return to examine his op-ed later.
<end update june 22 closed minds, great books>
Update � It is now 2016. I have read nothing by Arnold since .. no other op-eds that he has written as a guest writer at the Times. Until today (Feb 23).
I was only into the second paragraph when, already, I could sense that this was no ordinary writer. (Even by the standards of the NY Times.)
So I looked up to see who was writing this thing and I saw his name and thought, "Oh, I know this guy. I remember him."
I dont want to get carried away here, commenting on Arnold's op-ed, or even his writing .. because I can see how easy it would be .. to get carried away.
But I knew while reading this piece that this was written by someone special. Someone deserving of respect. (Which is not a feeling that I get too terribly often.)
I can only imagine how cool it must be to sit in his class.
If I were king of the NY Times, I would say, "Dear Mr. Weinstein, Please feel free to contact us if you have more op-eds that you think our readers might enjoy."
Because this guy is the real deal. Through and through. Look at this passage, for example �
A new technology like GPS provides us with the most efficient and direct route to a destination, but it presupposes we know where we are going. Finding an address is one thing; finding one's way in life is another. Even our smartest computers or most brilliant statisticians are at a loss when it comes to mapping our psychic landscapes.
Even beyond his writing, which is beautiful .. he totally nails the content .. spelling out the obvious for you and me.
I am actually curious about his life story .. how he came upon such a self.
A part of me actually loves this guy .. and I know so little about him .. beyond what he has written in these two columns. There is almost a sense of reverence that I feel.
Is it just me? Or do you not read his article and say, "This guy totally gets it." He gets the big picture of life. Especially where so many today are missing it.
He is saying � "Dont get so caught up in going where you're going .. without ensuring that it's a worthy destination."
I wonder if he has seen Woody Allen's Irrational Man?
<end update feb 23, 2016, arnold's column again jumps out at me>
My *favorite* thing to learn about is/are biographies. (Nate, too.) People's lives. Interesting people .. who both challenge us and inspire us with their ideas and lives to live a little bigger.
I have never seen such a class offered. For example, I have never seen a class on (the bio of) Tolstoy or Einstein or Dostoevsky, which I would love to take.
[ I have not read it, but Boswell's Life of Samuel Johnson (1791) is said to be the best biography in the English language. ]
The first two books I ever checked out at the library [ where mom was the library queen ] were two bio's � one on Babe Ruth and one on Custer. i loved the one on the Babe. But the book on Custer, eh � not so much.
I like to learn about the period in which they were living. The culture.
Probably the coolest thing about studying the lives of certain people is that .. you get to live their lives alongside them, so the speak. Which, in itself, con be transformative.
A wise man once told me � choose the professor, not the course. A good professor does indeed make a world of difference. True that.
Speaking of choosing the professor .. and on the topic of teaching, in general .. this guy at Berkeley fascinates me.
I would definitely be interested to see what it is like to sit in on his classes.
I mean, you never know, it might not be as cool as I imagine it would be.
Sort of like what I imagine it would be like to sit in on one of Stiglitz's classes.
He has that air of coolness that I first noticed with Dr. Wolf, who was from NYC.
In addition to the Berkeley professorship, Frenkel is also a member of the Academy of Arts & Sciences (.. the people who vote for the Oscars)
So there is definitely a coolness factor there.
But Frenkel writes shit (good shit) from time to time, articles, various pieces on the topic of math.
I havent read his book. Love and Math. Tho lots of praise makes me want to.
And I can feel my juicey-juice juicing. Stimulating and thought-provoking ideas .. that really get you going.
For example, in the second paragraph here, he writes � "Is our belief in a definite, objective, observer-independent reality an illusion?"
Later, a few paragraphs from the end, he gives your skull a pleasantly-sharp torque when he answers this question by writing �
� Does the wave function directly correspond to an objective, observer-independent physical reality, or does it simply represent an observer's partial knowledge of it?
If the wave function is merely knowledge-based, then you can explain away odd quantum phenomena by saying that things appear to us this way only because our knowledge of the real state of affairs is insufficient.
But the new paper in Nature Physics gives strong indications (as a result of experiments using beams of specially prepared photons to test certain statistical properties of quantum measurements) that this is NOT THE CASE. If there is an objective reality at all, the paper demonstrates, then the wave function is in fact reality-based. <end frenkel quote>
In other words, of the three possibilities of reality, we now are getting indications that it aint the one we were betting on.
Tho I would be remiss if I did not include these few concluding paragraphs �
� What this research implies is that we are not just hearing different "stories" about the electron, one of which may be true. Rather, there is one true story, but it has MANY FACETS, seemingly in contradiction, just like in "Rashomon." There is really no escape from the mysterious -- some might say, mystical -- nature of the quantum world.
But what, if anything, does all this mean for us in our own lives? We should be careful to recognize that the weirdness of the quantum world does not directly imply the same kind of weirdness in the world of everyday experience.
That's because the nebulous quantum essence of individual elementary particles is known to quickly dissipate in large ensembles of particles (a phenomenon often referred to as "decoherence"). This is why, in fact, we are able to describe the objects around us in the language of classical physics.
That shit fascinates me. Gives me such an intellectual boner.
Compare Frenkel's piece with Einstein's quote posted here.
The end. ?
Update - On the subject of education in general, and life-enhancing classes with the best professors in particular � this is interesting.
This, too. ??
On the subject of outstanding teachers and learning very cool shit ..
I have begun listening to Feynman's series of 30 videos .. based on 4 lectures originally given in 1979 in New Zealand, and then again in 1983 at UCLA .. on QED, or � Quantum Electro-Dynamics.
Which were published in a book (1985) titled � QED: The Strange Theory of Light & Matter.
I soo feel like I am stealing fire from the gods, listening to these lectures.
Call me crazy, but I intuitively feel that the insights contained in this course, this theory, provide insights into how the spiritual world works.
He is a good teacher. Gifted, even.
Funny. Almost enchanting.
He reminds me of Dr. Wolf, another New Yorker. (Feynman was from Queens.)
I learned about these lectures from Egan.
I figured � "Hey, Egan is a smart fucker. Where is he learning this stuff?" Now I see.
And I only listened to a little of the first lecture .. and already his ideas are haunting me.
For example .. he said that � as we study and get smarter and learn more about how the world works .. we often learn that ..
.. we learn that two seemingly separate things are � really two separate parts of the SAME thing (.. such as electricity and magnetism, and also space and time).
Think about it.
Think about the cosmic implications of such a thing.
It can really send your mind off ..
.. running at Porsche speeds down the back roads of Pennsylvania.
Feynman died of abdominal cancer in 1988.
He helped Oppenheimer build the bomb. And he helped a lot, too.
Feynman was born in 1918. That makes him 24 years old in 1942, when the project began. [ WGN mini-series ]
The end. ??? .. of Feynman's QED lectures & book.
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see � here.
[ Told you that I would provide a link back. Compliments of Rad's world-famous hyper-linked shuttle service. ]
Update May 24, 2015 � John "A Beautiful Mind" Nash died at 86. He won the Nobel prize in Economics in 1994 for early contributions to � Game Theory.
Which has a nice resource web site.
Based on von Neumann's pioneering work.
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At the end of this entry (that you are now reading) I have provided a link to return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...
Update .. my curiosity got the best of me so I downloaded and installed a trial copy of the new Dreamweaver (called "CC") ..
.. and took it for a creative spin around the new 64-bit block .. to see what it's like.
Wow. What a piece of software. What a well designed piece of software.
Elegant. Smooth. Rock stable. My first 64-bit Dreamweaver experience. Beautiful. I'm definitely impressed.
Tho I'm sure that the performance gains due to this new quad-core-based 64-bit laptop (10 years newer) have something to do with this favorable impression.
I must say .. that the interface is quite different from the CS4 version that I have become so accustomed to, since it was first released autumn of 2008. So it has been some 6 years to the CC 2014 release.
This current version [ "CC" ] was released Sept 2014. A development span of 6 years. A lot can change in the world of web design in 6 years.
CC stands for � Creative Cloud. I like the way that Adobe markets themselves (pimp their wares) .. as [ a suite of ] � "The World's Best Creative Apps".
Difficult to disagree.
Adobe bought up, over the years, all these different creative digital apps and committed themselves to developing them into suite of creative capabilities that work together in order to produce the most creative environment possible. No mean feat.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���Dreamweaver now runs on a subscription-only basis for $20/month .. if you sign up for a whole year. The annual plan costs $240. And if you just go month-to-month, that will cost you $30/month.
Creativity has always interested me.
The process of creating something that has never before existed seems to imitate the divine. No?
This article however, says that the new Creative Cloud and the "controversial financial aspects of the subscription model" ..
.. are probably not worth the upgrade from CS6 (released May, 2012 .. a 3� year development span from my version of CS4).
This article contains a direct comparison of Dreamweaver CS6 vs CC 2014.
While I can see how these CC 2014 upgrades bode well for the future of web design and web development ..
.. such as including all the HTML5 elements and most of the CSS3 properties and expanding support for jQuery .. a Javascript library that makes it easier to use JavaScript. ..
.. I would not upgrade myself to CC 2014 if I had Dreamweaver CS6. Because I do most of my work in Design View Mode, and not in Live View Mode.
And I only enter Code View when necessary, which is not very often.
Tho I know my way around Code View pretty well. CSS is more complicated to understand and use than HTML code (mark-up). Considerably more.
So that if you understand how to use CSS, then you understand HTML code (mark-up). [ The 'M' in HTML stands for 'Mark-up' ]
When I get a chance, I am going to lift out this section on Dreamweaver CC and transfer it to its own separate entry ..
.. because the topic seems to require its own page.
Update - Looks like I must have got a chance because the lift-n-move is done.
<end update about installing and taking the new Dreamweaver CC 2014 for a creative spin around the 64-bit block>
The end. ?
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see � here.
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At the end of this entry (that you are now reading) I have provided a link to return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go...
Speaking of cancer .. did you hear that David Carr died of cancer? .. at age 58.
I did not know that a person could die of cancer without even being aware that they had it.
So I have been thinking about that ever since he (so surprisingly) died (.. 6 days ago on Feb 12).
Maybe later I will return to share some comments on both the man and his death ..
.. tho I cant help but wonder � did he know .. that he had cancer?
I heard that some people cannot tolerate the treatment and say, "Fuck it. Just let me die."
I must say, I certainly understand the sentiment. Such a decision would depend on a number of factors, including age and health.
Regarding David Carr dying at 58 .. it may sound trite, but worth noting nonetheless .. that it's not how long you live, but how you live the years you have.
Update Sept 14, 2015 � The Times announces a fellowship named for David Carr. <end update david carr fellowship>
[ Here is another guy, Simpsons creator, Sam Simon, who just died of cancer in his late 50's. ]
I find it somewhat curious ..
.. that David Carr had just finished interviewing Laura Poitras, Glenn Greenwald and Edward Snowden (live via Moscow) that very same day ..
.. about the filming of Citizenfour, which has been nominated for Best Documentary ..
.. and is the odds-on favorite. (Trailer.) Timing is everything, they say.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���Salon calls it � "electric" and says that the film is receiving standing ovations. I bet.
That must be freaking them out .. talking to a person one day, who dies the next.
Uh, he actually died the evening of the SAME DAY .. as the Citizenfour interviews. Tho, they probably didnt hear about it 'til the next day.
(The Oscars air this Sunday .. Feb 22.)
David Carr wrote the book � The Night of the Gun (2009).
Notice how he also TAUGHT (Journalism) .. at Boston University .. which makes me think that he didnt know .. that he had cancer.
Indeed, this is the problem with many types of cancer .. that when physical symptoms appear, it's often too late.
But I thought that a person would always know .. before they got to the point of death .. that they would know that they had cancer.
Is it possible to die of cancer without even realizing that you have it?
Update - Feb 22, 2015. Citizenfour won the Oscar for Best Documentary! Here is Laura Poitras' acceptance speech. (Text.) (Photo.) The Atlantic.
The film's home is here. Trailer. Reviews at Rotten Tomatoes. The New Yorker.
This was her second nomination, but first win .. having been previously nominated in 2006 for My Country, My Country. Strong reviews. PBS POV. Trailer.
Congratulations are in order. Kudos.
I would be proud of that.
Especially when you consider all the various subtexts that come with the main theme.
And your previous persecution by the government only magnifies the accomplishment that much more.
It must feel pretty cool .. I would imagine.
For years I dated a Film school student at USC's world-famous Film school, in Los Angeles and Hollywood ..
.. where many industry contacts are always close by.
So I have a decent grasp of the power of the Oscar. Now you will live longer .. statistics say.
It also looks like Oliver Stone is filming a new movie called � Snowden .. to be released Christmas day. Wow.
(I should probably re-word that heading title, no?)
It is coming up on two years since Edward Snowden enlightened the clueless public about just how far Big Brother has come with his over-sized ambitions into probing (dicking) we-the-people ..
.. in clear violation of the Fourth Amendment. And probably several others.
And two years out from anything gives you a broader perspective on pretty much everything.
And the thing I recognize most curiously about that time .. is the timing of his release.
I was actually in the middle of an entry on a similar topic. Snowden released his indictment on June 3rd or 4th, I think. While my entry is dated May 23rd. That's nearly two weeks prior.
So there seems to have been some timing involved. Some synchronicity, if you will. Because, clearly, I could not have known that he was going to release those papers on that date. He probably didnt even know himself.
Well, forget the date .. I did not know he was going to release the papers, period. I didnt know that anybody would. And neither did you.
I was writing about one thing, and then, with very little adjustment, it seems, I started writing about Edward Snowden and his Oscar winning revelations.
And I have had other curiosities with regard to timing. Seeming coincidences that call attention to themselves .. for one reason or another.
And I remember not wanting to write about the first topic .. that I wasnt ready for that yet. That I should be better informed.
But I somehow knew that that was the time. Even if I wasnt ready. You can research as you write. And as you craft your piece. And I do learn a lot that way, sure.
That entry quickly grew to 4 pages. Four BIG pages. Server-straining big.
[ Dude, you have a huge Wikipedia page. How does that feel? ]
The end. ?
Update May 13, 2015 � Dude, did you see this? Wow. Vindication. (Yet again.)
You must feel good about that.
I see the vote this way � Big Brother: 88; The Fourth Amendment & Edward Snowden: 338.
Dude, that makes you a player .. in the game. The Big Game. World stage. Changing the course of history .. at least, US history.
I like the cover of Citizenfour .. understated, muted, the informality of the collarless shirt.
Even the proportionality of the lettering.
Kudos to the designers.
I read somewhere that the government is planning to load up on cyber talent.
And the movies that are coming out .. exploring the topic.
Along these lines, I should probably mention � this. On the sukiness of the Cyber-Security bills in congress.
Did you see that Petraeus got off with a slap on the wrist?
As the credibility of our Justice system swirls down the drain another turn or two.
But that is how the system works � if you are on our team, the rules dont apply to you.
The rules that we use to trick-fuck people who we dont like.
But if our guys do it .. hey, shit happens, ya know?
I still think that his biographer (and lover) is hot.
(She woulda got more secrets from me. A lot more. Easily. So I am not unsympathetic toward the general.)
Even more than hotness .. she obviously a capable woman. And there nothing quite so satisfying .. as being with a capable woman.
No matter how hot they might be. Because capable women take better care of you. They are more capable in that area .. among other things.
I dont mind them letting Petraeus off like that. But the selective (and savage) trick-fucking is not cool.
Anyway, congrats on the Oscar. You deserve it. As you can see from the title of this entry. And probably more than one.
Say hi to Mr. Stone for me.
The end. (part deux) ??
Update June 4, 2015 � Hi Citizenfour. I see you have posted an op-ed in the Times today, on the two-year anniversary of the revelations.
I think about you, sometimes, there in Moscow. I have had my own trials-n-tribulations to deal with this winter, but that hasnt stopped me from thinking about you from time to time, and how you changed the course of US history. (For the better.)
Sometimes, I can almost feel George Orwell looking over my shoulder, saying, "Didnt I tell you?"
Are winters in Moscow cold as shit? How do you stay warm? Hawaii to Moscow is some kind of climate change for you.
I went to Washington state, Seattle area and in November and didnt see the sun for six months.
After spending two years in Hawaii, I moved to the Seattle area, and even that was big change. We got there in November and didnt see the sun for six months.
Have you found a nice Russian hottie yet to keep you warm and tutor you in learning the language? Natasha? Tatiana? Olga?
Do you ever get to communicate with your old girlfriend?
Did you see this? That must make your sacrifice seem worth the trouble.
Dude, call me crazy, but right after I read about parts of the "Patriot" Act expiring, I noticed that the site started running faster, more responsive. Zippier.
Must be a coincidence.
It was a week after I posted my piece on Hitchcock's Notorious Key Shot that my web-hosting provider moved the site to a different server .. under strange circumstances that were never adequately explained.
Afterwards, when speaking to some of the support people about other things, I would fuck with them and ask � "So, do you guys still have me on the NSA server?" To which I would usually get a nervous chuckle.
But actually, I think the FBI takes care of this kind of in-country server monitoring.
That is a well-writen piece, well crafted .. not a word out of place.
Update June 25, 2015 � The French Justice minister, Christiane Taubira, says that France is considering offering Snowden asylum.
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see � here.
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]]>(Search engines like it better when different topics get their own separate page.)
At the end of this entry (that you are now reading) I have provided a link to return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...
But before I get too deeply into that .. I should first mention that I got a new laptop. After 10 years with the old one.
Which I bought when the Bug was a newborn. (He is now 10.)
There was a mix up with the rent and I could see that I would be living out of my car (Porsche in Laguna) for a while ..
.. and FOR THAT I would need a laptop ..
.. which I could then use at either the coffee shop or the library. That was the impetus for the purchase.
(Doncha just love those little side-excursion detours down memory lane?)
I doubt you know many people who have been able to keep a computer running for as long as I have .. using it hard nearly every day.
I got a (black) 17-inch Toshiba Satellite ($399, bro bought it for me) .. with an AMD A8 CPU (quad-core) and 6 gigs of memory and a 750 GB hard drive.
I have never had an AMD chip before. The good thing about AMD is that .. it comes with Radeon R5 hardware graphics acceleration .. because AMD bought ATI, who made the Radeon gfx chips.
My old laptop has an Intel chip (Celeron) and uses software (CPU) gfx acceleration. But Intel also has its own version of hardware gfx acceleration.
So I feel like I died and went to laptop heaven. I am using it right now to write this entry.
Tho I am using Microsoft's (free) Expression Web 4, which is pretty similar to Dreamweaver, which I have been using for years. And which I know well.
But I cannot get my old copy of Dreamweaver to even install on this new operating system (Windows 8.1). {My old laptop ran Windows XP.)
So I totally bypassed both Windows Vista and Windows 7.
Dreamweaver now runs on a subscription-only basis for $20/month .. if you sign up for a whole year.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���The annual plan costs $240. If you just go month-to-month, that will cost you $30/month.
Too rich for me. This freebie version of Expression Web is close enough to Dreamweaver that it is considered a Dreamweaver competitor.
Tho I will admit that Dreamweaver is clearly a superior product. Spit-n-polish. Well thought-out defaults. User-friendly interface. Like it is thinking for you .. and not making you figure things out. You know what I'm saying.
But Expression Web comes with a black/dark background, which I particularly enjoy. It seems to bring out a more creative part of me. Or at least, it feels that way.
I was also looking at KompoZer, but decided to go with Expression Web 4 instead. Because KompoZer is only at version 0.7.10. Not even a 1.0 release. (I actually downloaded and installed a copy of KompoZer.)
So I have been setting up this new laptop .. which is a fairly involved process.
I first got Windows set up right .. then installed a handful of browsers (Firefox, Chrome, Opera).
Setting up all my various email accounts with Thunderbird took a while ..
.. even after importing the old address book.
Thunderbird supports both IMAP and POP. But IMAP is considered superior to POP ..
.. which is what (POP) I was using with Outlook Express.
With Thunderbird, I now use IMAP, which seems to take a little more configuring.
But it is particularly nice to configure when you have your own VPS web server. (And therefore your own mail server .. like Hillary. Lots of control. More.)
WinSCP for secure file transfers. Notepad++ for text editing.
I am also gonna look at GIMP for my image editing needs because I cant get my old copy of Fireworks to install on Windows 8.1, which was released August, 2013.
Update, GIMP is a bear to use. I'm gonna try paint.net instead.
Actually, I am still editing images on the old laptop with Fireworks. Takes a little more coordination and synchronization to edit the same document on two different machines. Have to watch you dont overwrite a newer file with an older one.
So, when I use the old machine, I try to do all the gfx in one shot.
Finding & selecting the right graphic to (artistically?) characterize the topic of a given section of text .. that's the fun part that comes after you get done wordsmith'ing the text.
Only about 10% of Windows users are using Windows 8.1. Most still use Windows 7. Hardly anybody uses Vista, which was problematic.
Anyway, if you can read this okay .. that means that I've figured out Microsoft's Expression Web 4 and properly configured WinSCP to upload the file.
Update .. my curiosity got the best of me ..
.. so I downloaded and installed a trial copy of the new Dreamweaver (called "CC") ..
.. and took it for a creative spin around the new 64-bit block .. to see what it's like.
Wow. What a piece of software. What a well designed piece of software.
Elegant. Smooth. Rock stable. My first 64-bit Dreamweaver experience. Beautiful. I'm definitely impressed.
Rad note � the subject-drift here with demo'ing Dreamweaver CC was severe enough to warrant its own entry ..
.. see here � Taking Dreamweaver CC for a Creative Spin Around Adobe's 64-bit Block.
At the end of that page on Dreamweaver CC, I have included a link that will return you here.
The end. ?
You can return to the exact spot from which the entire text in this entry originated .. see � here.
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]]>The chemo doctor said that the three-weeks-after-treatment is done will suck-the-worst. (I'm paraphrasing, of course.)
She was right. Actually, I would put the sucky focus on days 3-13 .. as the worst of the worst.
I could certainly elaborate but will spare you the gory details.
Between you and me .. the thing I am really looking forward to ..
.. is that day when it occurs to me .. that this 'thing' ..
.. this cancer thing & especially the EFFECTS of its brutal treatment regimen .. is/are behind me.
I cannot say that today, tho. Because this 'thing' is all up in my ass, presently. Like a toothy croc munching on your butt.
But certainly, day #23 represents at least the beginning of the end.
And that alone brings a degree of comfort .. that I made it beyond treatment and survived.
In other words � the worst is now behind. (Tho, no .. I admit, it does not feel that way.)
It was not that long ago, you know, when I was writing � "This shit does not look doable. Not from where I currently stand .. at the mid-way point of treatment."
(And it didnt, either. Nor was it later on in treatment.)
Two days after treatment ended, my chemo doctor examined me and said, "Well, I must say .. for having JUST finished treatment .. you look fantastic."
(Tho no, I confess I hardly felt fantastic. Closer to Frankenstein than fantastic. Much closer.)
That was the day she gave me a big hug. "Completion hug," she said with arms wide.
"That was pretty hard," I had to admit. "What an ordeal." (I will take a hug from my chemo doctor any time.)
While I was waiting recently to see the chemo doctor .. the nurse for the radiation doctor came out and saw me. She came over and sat down and we chatted for 10 minutes .. there in the big waiting room.
She has seen me violently shaking and projectile-vomiting, during my 2nd clinical trial .. so our level of familiarity goes beyond the usual niceties of social grace.
It's interesting how we can develop these mini relationships with people that feel surprisingly intimate ..
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���.. for the amount of time that you spend together. And they know (intimately) this very vulnerable part of you. (And they are there to help.)
[ <begin mini-sidebar about weekly shrink sessions>
I am not going to get off-topic here .. but, on the subject of establishing meaningful intimacy with people while you are in one of the (if not thee) most challenging and needy times of your life ..
.. in multiple ways ..
.. remind me tell you about my weekly shrink sessions. We were talkin' 'bout some shit. I was even surprised at myself, at times.
When you have a good listener .. they can help to draw stuff out of you .. stuff that you didnt even know was in there. When you have a good, sympathetic, and even an empathetic listener.
My voice was barely audible at a whisper and hurt like hell for days afterwards .. but I went away. [ Every Thursday from 2:00 to 3:00. ]
Those records will probably be subpoena'ed some day. She assured me that she would "fight tooth-n-nail" .. to keep from releasing them ..
.. but said that she would "document lightly .. because UCSD *is* a public institution. If I were in private practice, I would feel more comfortable documenting more."
So much for the doctor-patient confidentiality protections.
Anyway, I got diverted there for a few paragraphs. But it was worth it. So let's return to interesting conversations with the radiation doctor's nurse.
And when I find myself in a mui feisty mood I will return here to discuss my weekly shrink sessions .. at the Moores Cancer center.
Where pretty-much everything is on the table. Where you can go anywhere you like and it wont seem the least bit strange. Because in your pocket you have the bus ticket labeled � Cancer Patient ..
.. which gives you access to existential lands and to the Twilight Zone .. all at the same time.
We even held one of our meetings in the meditation room there on the first floor. That was nice. Big, comfy couches. "Sit wherever you like."
Update - I just returned to this section about my weekly shrink sessions and read over what I had written .. and the voice is my head said � "Dude, that's good writing."
Then the voice said � "If you lift out that section on your meetings with your shrink and transfer it to its own entry .. that would be some entry."
And there I would have to agree.
� A Lonely 99-Minute Window Into Eternity
Getting even more off-topic .. and speaking of writing about privileged and intimate topics .. remind me to tell you about the thoughts I had lying there, alone, behind the huge, bank-vault door ..
.. with a crew of 3 or 4 people watching me on 3 different cameras .. watching me get massive doses of radiation to the mouth and my neck and my throat.
Some interesting thoughts come to you under those circumstances. Right there, in those 3 minutes .. while your face is basically locked onto the platform upon which you are lying.
You know exactly when the actual radiation begins because a rather annoying buzzing alarm-type noise begins .. and continues the entire three minutes until it is done.
Thirty seconds later, the gigantic-fat door opens and the cavalry comes thru to unbolt your face from the platform and they grab hold of your arm and pull you up ..
.. which is nice, cuz later in treatment, it becomes difficult to lift yourself
And when they put you on the bed, they lift it pretty high .. so that the radiation head can go all the way around you. So you are levitated up there. If you fell off, that would hurt, sure.
But the thoughts that come during those essential minutes of cancer treatment (.. and also during the 60 minutes during which the chemo is dripping into your vein) .. these are some very honest thoughts.
I had 33 shots of radiation. Each shot lasted 3 mins. [Tho it takes them 20 minutes to set you up, to align your malignant ass just so .. because they are meticulous about that.) Anyway, that makes � 99 minutes of radiation .. spread over 7 weeks.
When 99 minutes become an eternity. A title, perhaps.
<end sidebar about weekly shrink sessions and thoughts while lying alone on the radiation platform> ]
Back to the radiation nurse ...
And I remember her saying � "The hardest thing you'll ever do."
It struck me when she said it.
But how would she know? She herself has never had cancer, nor been treated for it.
She must have heard such things from other patients, I am guessing.
And such a statement I can certainly understand.
I will not speculate whether it is the #1 hardest thing ever .. because plenty of things seem pretty hard, seem pretty miserable, seem like such ordeals, while you are going thru them, no?
Things that try the souls of men. And test their limits.
But certainly this thing, this cancer thing .. and especially the effects of its brutal treatment regimen .. is ONE OF the hardest. One of. (Historically speaking.) No doubt there, bro.
So .. one of the least appreciated things about cancer, it would seem, is that the oncologist, in order to kill the incurable .. must nearly kill you (the patient) .. or, at least, make it feel like they are trying.
If she happens to come over and talk to me again .. I dont think I can stop myself from asking her .. what it's like to work for/with her doctor. (One of my doctors .. I seem to have so many.)
I mean, she probably spends more waking hours with him than his wife. He is very smart. Impressive.
I've always enjoyed working with (and even for) highly competent people. He seems like he is always a step or two ahead of you. (In a good way.)
Some of the other people I have talked to (more than one) .. have indicated that they're afraid of him, or maybe just intimidated by him. As tho he were a demanding task master.
And there is so much riding on his work .. that you want it as good as it can get .. in order to coax from the odds the very best outcome possible. Feel me?
Perhaps the terms afraid and intimidated are exaggerations. But you catch my drift, and I cannot be more clear without quoting them directly .. so you see exactly what I'm talking about. I am thinking of 3 examples .. two girls and one guy. Which gave me that impression.
If it were just one .. you could more easily dismiss it as an anomaly.
I was originally going to discuss this stuff in the entry labeled � Killing the Incurable .. but never quite got around to it. (Blame it on the chemo.)
Well .. maybe I can discuss one of those conversations. But not now. Maybe later. If I remember.
But it had to do with my suggestion that they move up the clinical trials by a week or (even better) two.
That is .. if you want your patients to actually complete the trial. (All four weeks. Once per week.)
Because these trials knock your dick in the dirt quite viciously .. for an hour or two.
The clinical trials girl told me that .. while, radiation and chemo are synchronized in the treatment, because the chemo compliments the radiation (.. as a 'radio-sensitizer') .. there is no such linkage with the trial.
And by week 4 of the radiation/chemo, your ass is already sucking major wind and it is difficult to weather the bio-hazard storm that the clinical trial brings.
You could also conduct the trial a month or two after the radiation/chemo treatment ends .. but nobody is gonna wanna go back after they are done .. unless they have no other option.
Anyway, that was the back-story for the context of my telling exchange. the details of which I may share later. The "I said," and "she said" parts.
But I do not want to leave you with the wrong impression. Even if he intimidates others, like I said, he does not intimidate me, no. (Tho I do feel a sense of respect. Sure.)
During the week where my voice went bad .. it was during that week where I was telling both him and his nurse how much I appreciated the clinical trials girl ..
.. cuz she was kicking so much ass on my behalf. (Especially when I had I-V anxiety.) And everybody else had left the room already, at the end of the examination. And I told him that I appreciated him, too.
I was feeling appreciative regarding his skill set at that time because my tumor had shrunk so much so quickly. That was VERY encouraging to me. Something I can see with my own eyes. Feel with my own fingers.
My point is � I was feeling genuinely appreciative for him .. so that 'genuine-ness' probably carried across in what little voice I had left at the time.
And he was walking out the door and he stopped, paused, and then turned and came back in and said � "Thank-you for saying that. Because, a lot of the time, that's not what we hear."
And I conceded that, from a patient's perspective, I could certainly understand how that might be the case ..
.. seeing how radiation is what he does to people. And radiation burns you. (You the patient, not you the doctor.)
I mean, they are using monster doses .. at least, compared to the occupational exposure limits [10 CFR ] we were exposed to in either the military or in the commercial nuclear industry.
If I may try my hand at channeling the good doctor .. I might imagine him saying something like this � "Dude, I want to tell some of these cry babies � 'I'm the only thing standing between you and the grave .. so try to show a little appreciation. The radiation suks, I'll give you that. But the effects of the radiation go away. Cancer doesnt go away. That's what makes it so deadly'."
The fact that both he and I have 'radiation' as the focus of our professions .. that is an interesting parallel similarity, no? [ The 'Rad' in Radified comes from radiation. ]
I mean, in light of the fact that it is basically his job to save my life .. from the very shit that killed both my mother and my grandfather. And he seems to be doing an excellent job, so far.
Anyway, maybe now you can see why I wanted to discuss this type of theme in an entry titled � Killing the Incurable (The Cancer Killers) ..
.. because this is what I was feeling grateful for .. and the other .. where my goal posts looked like they were about to be moved back ..
.. I was not feeling so grateful about that. No, sir.
So there was a nice play of contrast in the themes. Or, of course, it could just be the chemo fucking with my mind so that I am thinking crazy shit and think it sounds normal .. ya know?
What was I just talking about?
The Chemo doctor said my blood counts should return to normal within 30 days (of today). "Definitely."
Chemo doctors are called Medical Oncologists. They are blood people. Experts in the blood, and especially how the various (30) different chemo's affect it. That is their area of expertise. The blood.
A doctor specializing in blood who is not an oncologist is called a hematologist.
If the cancer does come back (she said) .. it usually comes back within the � first two years. So, if you make it that far, you're over the biggest statistical hump. (We're talking about a matter of life-n-death, no?)
But 5 years is really the goal, the gold standard. If you make it 5 years without the cancer returning, you're golden.
If this type of cancer spreads .. two of the "most likely" places it would spread to .. would be � the lungs and the liver.
This is why they closely follow my liver functions (via blood work) and look at my lungs every chance they get.
Did I mention that the tumor is gone? Probably not as much as I should.
It actually started shrinking from the very first day that I got chemo. I remember getting out of the shower, getting ready for an evening trip down to Moores. (They're open late. 8PM. 9PM.).
And I looked in the mirror and noticed that the swollen lymph node was barely noticeable. So I started calling everybody .. I was so excited. So stoked. So encouraged.
Speaking of going for five years with no recurrence .. the clinical trails girl called today .. with the date of the appointment for my "first post-treatment scan." A CT scan. Middle of next month.
I would normally not get this scan until the 4-month point .. if I had not participated in the clinical trial.
They want the scan done at a very specific time � 15 weeks after the date of the beginning of treatment, which seems weird to me.
So as I count the weeks myself, the CT scan appears to be scheduled to occur at the beginning of week 15 ..
.. from the day that treatment started (on Dec 8).
Then, at 4 months, they give you a PET scan.
I prefer PET scans to CT scans. For the PET scan, they shoot you with some radioactive sugar ..
.. then have you sit & wait for 45 mins until the stuff has worked its way into your tissue.
The PET scan takes a little longer than a CT scan, but the needle is only in your arm for a few secs.
With a CT scan however, they put in an I-V, which you leave in for the duration of the scan (20 mins). And they remotely shoot this dye into the I-V half way thru. Not much fun.
So they will be watching me closely.
The CT scan allows them to 'see' abnormalities in tissue. But the only way to confirm that these abnormalities are indeed malignant would be by a tissue biopsy .. otherwise known as the 'chunks of flesh' biopsy.
The CT scan is about seeing 'structures' growing inside your body .. particularly 'structures' which should not be there .. or maybe structures that have grown abnormally large.
A PET scan on the other hand, is about seeing metabolic activity inside your body.
Cancer likes sugar. Cancer needs sugar. Cancer sucks up sugar.
So they have you fast, starving the cancer of its beloved sugar. Then they shoot you up with some radioactive sugar, which goes to the cancer sites, if you have any.
The PET scanner can then (45 minutes later) SEE this cancer eating the glowing radioactive sugar. Too cool, no? Isnt technology grand?
One of the things that makes cancer so dangerous .. is that is reproduces so rapidly .. that it can quickly overwhelm your body.
And when the sugar is injected, the cancer goes to town in a big way, sucking up the glowing, radioactive sugar, which it doesnt even know that it is radioactive. It only knows that it is sugar.
If cancer were really smart, it wouldnt eat the radioactive sugar. Because then the doctors wouldnt know where to focus their beam of radiation, which kills the cancer, because cancer cells divide so rapidly.
When you get your radiation shots, you can HEAR the cancer cells screaming (like a vampire at the beach at noon), "Make it stop! It burns so bad!"
And it is like the Chemo rubs baby oil all over the cancer-vampire, helping to burn it even better. Chemo can be so sadistic at times.
You may find it interesting, as I did, that the chemo itself is no problem. Both before and after the actual chemo infusion (1 hour) they give you lots of fluids and anti-nausea meds (drugs). And steroids. Cortical steroids.
They gave me so much fluids, so quickly (to protect the patient's kidneys) that my arm was COLD .. all the way up to the shoulder.
So much so that I brought along a heating pad with me for infusions #2 and 3. And wrapped it around my arm.
But you have iron in your arm for several hours.
To be honest, you actually feel pretty dang good both during the actual infusion and for 2 or 3 days afterwards. I mean, you feel like you are starting to get your shit back. But you aint. It only feels that way because of the drugs.
They give you this anti-nausea pre-infusion that lasts for 3 days. But then it wears off. Most of the actual chemo drug should be out off your bloodstream within 48 hours .. if you can drink a decent amount of water .. to flush it out.
It is work, bro. Let me tell you .. it is work .. both swallowing and putting anything in your stomach. The worst I feel is when I am puking or dry heaving. That really sucks.
But I havent puked for 3 days now. Very encouraging.
It really helps to drink aloe vera juice. At first, I thought the idea unappealing. But when I actually tried it .. ooh, baby .. my throat and stomach both liked it.
My weight is down to 152. If you would have told me pre-treatment that I would get down to 150 .. that would have scared me.
For me, dropping from 180 down to 165 is a lot .. but dropping another 15 pounds down to 150 .. whoa. You have to work at getting the calories into your tummy. It's work.
Back when the chemo doctor was working me about getting a feeding tube .. I think it was week 4 when my weight started dropping like crazy .. I said to her, "No, no .. I just got these Ensure's and I can drink them. Watch me."
But I was thinking to myself .. that if I ever got down to 150, that would mean I should get the stupid tube sticking out of my stomach. Because that was a weight I would never get down to ..
.. because the treatment only had a few weeks to go. And I could hold out that long. Without the tube.
But I never really thought that I would actually hit 150. So I am surprised. And glad that I am 3 weeks out of treatment. Let the healing begin, brother. And let it begin with me. Any day now. ( I shall be released. )
The radiation doctor walked into the room recently .. where I am sitting with the clinical trials girl. And he says (mid-stride), "So, do you still have the feeding tube?"
And I say, "I never got the tube. The idea of tubes sticking out of my body .. not so appealing. Feel me, dog?"
The clinical trials girl was sitting too far away for a high five, but close enough for a fist-bump .. with a smile of satisfaction.
No, I did not say, "Feel me, dawg," .. but I was thinking it.
Most patients who go thru the treatment that I did get a feeding tube. Or so they tell me.
The clinical trials girl is the one who had called me, weeks before, and said, "Dont freak out if the hospital calls you and says that they are ready for you to come and get your feeding tube. I merely submitted the paperwork in case you do need one. Because most patients do. This way there will be no delays."
So that's what the fist-bump was all about. It was a subtle but cool moment, which may be difficult to describe.
She also said that most of the patients who DO get a feeding tube .. wait until 3 or 4 months after treatment .. before they have them removed.
I thought this long. But she said it takes a while to get the swallowing muscles back in shape after so long with no use. Three to four months after. That surprises me.
And then there is the fatigue. Not so difficult to describe. But that is a story for another day.
Speaking of cancer .. did you hear that David Carr died of cancer? .. at age 58.
I did not know that a person could die of cancer without even being aware that they had it.
So I have been thinking about that ever since he (so surprisingly) died (.. 6 days ago on Feb 12).
Maybe later I will return to share some comments on both the man and his death ..
.. tho I cant help but wonder � did he know .. that he had cancer?
I heard that some people cannot tolerate the treatment and say, "Fuck it. Just let me die."
I must say, I certainly understand the sentiment. Such a decision would depend on a number of factors, including age and health.
Regarding David Carr dying at 58 .. it may sound trite, but worth noting nonetheless .. that it's not how long you live, but how you live the years you have.
[ Here is another guy, Simpsons creator, Sam Simon, who just died of cancer in his late 50's. ]
I find it somewhat curious ..
.. that David Carr had just finished interviewing Laura Poitras, Glenn Greenwald and Edward Snowden (live via Moscow) that very same day ..
.. about the filming of Citizenfour, which has been nominated for Best Documentary ..
.. and is the odds-on favorite. (Trailer.) Timing is everything, they say.
Rad note � the subject in this entry has drifted far enough to warrant its own separate page. (Blame it on the chemo.)
So I have lifted and transferred to its own page the section that deals with David Carr and the Oscar nomination of Citizenfour, starring Edward Snowden.
At the end of that page you will find a link .. to return you here to this exact spot. See here � David Carr, Citizenfour & an Oscar for Edward Snowden (Laura Poitras & Glenn Greenwald).
Speaking of teaching .. I want to share with you an article written about our community colleges ..
.. which I found very interesting .. titled � The Promise and Failure of Community Colleges.
Which basically says that � "a very large group of young Americans are not prepared, either financially, cognitively or socially, for that kind of education."
Because only ~8% of community college students transfer to a 4-year college ..
.. and only one third will earn a two-year degree within 6 years.
I have spent considerable time at community colleges ..
.. mostly in California, so I feel qualified to comment.
Especially since both the dog and my brother went to Ivy league schools (Columbia & Yale). Both home-town schools.
You may find it interesting that roughly HALF of all students enrolled in college at any given time ..
.. are studying at a community college.
Wow, that's a lot.
Rad note � the subject in this entry has drifted far enough to warrant its own separate page. (Blame it on the chemo.)
At the end of that page you will find a link ..
.. to return you here to this exact spot. A shuttle service you might say. A hyper-linked shuttle. See here � College � Life-Enhancing Classes with the Best Professors.
But before I get too deeply into that .. I should first mention that I got a new laptop. After 10 years with the old one.
Which I bought when the Bug was a newborn. (He is now 10.)
There was a mix up with the rent and I could see that I would be living out of my car (Porsche in Laguna) for a while ..
.. and FOR THAT I would need a laptop ..
.. which I could then use at either the coffee shop or the library. That was the impetus for the purchase.
(Doncha just love those little side-excursion detours down memory lane?)
Rad note � the subject-drift here with getting a new laptop was severe enough to warrant its own entry .. see here � New 17-inch Toshiba Laptop With AMD A8 & Radeon R5 Gfx.
At the end of that entry, I have included a link to return you here .. to the exact spot from where the text was lifted.
(Search engines like it better when different topics get their own separate page.)
Update .. my curiosity got the best of me ..
.. so I downloaded and installed a trial copy of the new Dreamweaver (called "CC") ..
.. and took it for a creative spin around the new 64-bit block .. to see what it's like.
Wow. What a piece of software. What a well designed piece of software.
Elegant. Smooth. Rock stable. My first 64-bit Dreamweaver experience. Beautiful. I'm definitely impressed.
Rad note � the subject-drift here with demo'ing Dreamweaver CC was severe enough to warrant its own entry ..
.. see here � Taking Dreamweaver CC for a Creative Spin Around Adobe's 64-bit Block.
At the end of that entry, I will provide a link to return you to the exact spot from which this text has been lifted and moved.
Speaking of enhanced creativity ..
.. before I forget, you shouldnt miss the new (Feb 3) American Experience (PBS) feature titled � The Big Burn ..
.. based on the 2014 book by Egan .. a truly gifted writer.
He is one of my favorites at the New York Times.
This deals with the great fire of the summer of 1910 in the Bitterroot mountains, which destroyed an area the size of Connecticut, and where 78 firefighters died.
Narrated by Oliver Platt.
The Bitterroots are not far from Coeur d'Alene, which is where the Wow girl grew up. Wallace is a key town mentioned in the video.
Nova did the same thing with (the super-excellent) Einstein's Big Idea (video), also based on a book.
And like Alex Gibney is doing with Lawrence Wright's 2013 non-fiction book about Scientology.
If you are out of the country, you may need to configure a US-based proxy.
Egan also wrote a book on the Dust Bowl titled The Worst Hard Time, which Good Reads ranks #16 .. out of more than one thousand books on American History.
Speaking of the truly gifted .. I would be lying if I said that I never pondered the idea of the truly gifted vs the (merely?) diligent student.
Certainly, if the truly gifted does not develop their gift, their talent, the diligent student can easily surpass. No?
Over the course of my life, many people have said things to me .. that made me think.
For example, the lady at Zinc cafe in Laguna, who said � "I know a lot of people who work very hard at this." (implying that I made it look easy)
I bet they do. I had actually been working at it rather diligently myself. Certainly a student of the seemingly timeless craft. Tho it did feel like it came easily.
And more such things have I heard along those lines. Thought provoking things. Many more. And often under curious circumstances. And with unusual people.
So, I feel qualified to discuss this topic .. because I have thought about it for a long time. Over decades. And from many different perspectives.
To be continued ...
The end. ?
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By the way .. it has nothing to do with today's entry, but today (Feb 9th) is the day that Dostoevsky died (in 1881).
134 years ago.
When you are suffering, Dostoevsky feels like he is right there with you.
Like he has boldly gone beyond anything you can possibly imagine. (Because he has.)
February in St. Petersburg is probably pretty cold and nasty.
Pushkin himself (1799-1837) also died in early February (on the 10th, tomorrow) in St. Petersburg.
Of all the superlatives that I have read about Dostoevsky ..
.. probably the most impressive praise is found on the inside flap of the hardback version of the Brother Karamazov ..
.. words which come from the beginning of a sentence which reads � "Beyond Dostoevsky's towering reputation as one of a handful of thinkers who forged the modern sensibility..."
Think about that. Think about what is required for someone to even make such a statement about you.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���".. who forged the modern sensibility."
What does that even mean?
Notice, too, how the flap writer almost sets aside this towering reputation as trivial.
"Beyond the obvious, which you are so dazzled by .. I think you're missing the really cool things about his art, about his craft.
For example, he tells a really good story .. that brings you into pretty deep waters rather quickly. So buckle up."
I'm paraphrasing, of course.
The word 'sensibility' is defined � here.
The root of the word 'sensibility' contains the word � sense, which indicated perception and awareness.
So the word sensibility as used here seems to indicate that Dostoevsky � helped forge the way modern people view and perceive their modern world ..
.. which would naturally influence how they respond to it, no?
In the intro by Richard Pervear, translator of fine Russian literature, to Notes from Underground, a different book by Dostoevsky, you find the following statement describing the titular underground man �
� "one of the most remarkable characters in literature, one who has been placed among the bearers of modern consciousness alongside Don Quixote (1605), Hamlet (1602), and Faust (1806)."
Consciousness and awareness (sense) seem to be closely related, no? So maybe this is close to what they had in mind about Dostoevsky helping to "forge the modern sensibility" ..
.. and with Cervantes (1547-1616), Shakespeare (1564-1616) and Goethe (pronounced 'GUR-tuh, 1749-1832).
I think that anybody would be honored to have their words still speaking 134 years later.
This is the guy, btw, who was czar when Dostoevsky was born (in 1821). Nice horse.
To render some historical perspective to Alexander I, note that Catherine the Great ruled only 5 years before the beginning of Alexander's rule (in 1801).
The czar who succeeded Alexander � Nicholas I (1825-1855 reign) .. he is the one who sent Dostoevsky to Siberia.
Russia has had czars all the way up to March of 1917. (Less than 100 years ago.) With Nicholas II.
It was Lenin's time, then.
All of these czars were part of the House of Romanov .. which began its reign way back in 1613.
Does not this remarkable longevity .. of Dostoevsky's writings .. his words .. does this not evoke for you a suggestion of divine words?
In a pattern-matching sort of way.
The kind of staying power that spans the centuries.
I wrote some more about Dostoevsky in March, 2014 .. see here � Still on the Trail of Dostoevsky ..
.. which I should probably also move out to its own page. Like I did with this entry (.. that you're reading now).
More unrelated stuff .. here is another article that I found interesting, titled � What Would Jesus Do About Measles? Much thoughtful debate fills this topic.
� The end. ?
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see � here.
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» I continue to lose weight .. down to 154. That means I've dropped nearly 30 lbs. When I put on my pants, they are very loose. Nausea, no appetite, dry heaves. Wake-n-puke every morning. [ print: 'Hello world, cancer patient'; ]
So bad have I been feeling, so nauseous, so shitty ..
.. that I stopped by this place that sells legal medical cannabis.
I heard that you can purchase some for as little as $10.
But you cannot, I learned, just walk into a place and buy cannabis. No, sir.
Not even if you are being treated for cancer and you have all the paperwork to prove it.
Rather you must first go see a doctor and get an official license. (A medical 'recommendation,' I think they are called.) Which, they tell me, is no problem if you are being treated for cancer.
So I have not yet bought any. Because I first need to go see a doctor who writes these recommendations. Plenty of patients have said it does indeed bring a degree of relief to the nausea and even promotes an appetite.
It certainly cant make me feel any worse. Medical cannabis has been legal here in California since 1996. [ Think Windows-95 era. ]
The Dog was the first one to recommend it. He has friends who it has helped.
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]]> ••• today's entry continues here below •••Back when I lived with the Dog in downtown Waikiki (.. yeah, right below the two strippers) ..
.. we would sometimes, to start the weekend off right by taking a single hit (puff) of Maui Wowwie (..
.. or Kona buds, or Puna buds, or our favorite, this stuff called » Kauai Electric ..
.. which was lime green and so sticky that you had trouble handling it) ..
.. and go for a 4-mile run around the Ala Wai blvd (.. which runs along the Ala Wai canal). The stuff we got in Hawaii was so strong that you only needed the littlest puff and you were good to go.
The dog was always a strong runner. He ran at an easy pace so I could stay with him .. but near the end he would take off .. and I could never keep up.
In Hawaii, we only had a few months off before it was time to go back to sea.
So we tried to make the best of it. And yes, it was pretty sweet.
While it lasted.
These 105-day R&R periods there in Hawaii were known as » off-crew.
Off-crews were what made boomer duty so sweet .. because boomer duty did have its sucky parts, yes.
And boomer off-crews in Hawaii .. living downtown Waikiki .. with the Dog .. with the balmy tropical breezes blowing enchanted nothings thru your 21 year-old brain .. well, that was very cool. The Aloha spirit is real.
And when you are done playing fun in the sun and catching waves and throwing the frisbee and smoking your maui wowwie and running your miles ..
.. when you are done there in Waikiki, then it's time to go relieve the blue crew and once again turn matter into energy.
E=mc2, baby. Putting Einstein's theory into action. Which is what a nuclear reactor does. They turn matter (mass) into » energy. Let me show you how we do.
Which reminds me .. how most of the pretty girls in Hawaii were there for either 10 days or two weeks, depending on the specifics of their particular vacation package.
So the Dog would drive down to the airport (Honolulu International, in his tan Chevy Malibu) and, when he would see a pretty girl (or girls) that he liked, who had just stepped off the plane .. he would walk over (looking all tan and fit) and introduce himself as someone who LIVED there ..
.. and ask if they might be interested in spending some time together during their stay. This way he could get a pretty girlfriend of his choosing for the maximum time available. They were always very nice girls. Clearly, the Dog knew how to pick 'em.
[ Which reminds me of » this scene, from the Woody Allen flick » Vicky Cristina Barcelona. ]
No one ever ever turned him down. Nobody is smooth with the ladies like the Dog is smooth.
His approach with the ladies was matter-of-fact, sprinkled with humor. Never a pick-up shtick.
(It worked so well that I adopted it as my own approach.)
I remember that he was complaining how, every time he met a cool girl there in Hawaii, she was always leaving within a day or two.
So a shipmate-friend, this guy who was from Brooklyn or the Bronx (I forget .. it was one of those New York boroughs that begins with a 'B') said, "You should go to the airport and catch them as they come off the plane."
The Dog's Irish eyes began to sparkle like a leprechaun plotting mischief as a smile broke and crept across his face. "That's actually a good idea," he said. [ I think the guy was only kidding about his suggestion. ]
But the Dog quickly grew tired of that technique and preferred to just hang out with the guys who liked to play cards and drink beer. He would host weekly card games at our place on Saturday night.
We were the only ones who lived downtown Waikiki. Most of the guys lived out in the suburbs or in the country.
So everybody liked to come down and hang out in the city .. with the urban sounds of police sirens blaring this way and that.
The strippers would usually stop by .. on their way to work. I was never much of a card player. They played for money. Small stakes .. cuz nobody had very much money.
I remember lots of laughing and joking coming from the table. (The Dog went out and rented a real card table and some folding chairs .. cuz we only had a small kitchen table for two that came with the place.)
Update - people are starting to copy me.
Remind me to tell you what one of my drivers (a Jordanian) told me .. on our way down to Moores .. about a previous job he had in Orange county. At a clothing store in a strip mall ..
.. where the whole lot was full of cars - "morning to night" - with cars there for the medical cannabis place.
He said that he had to talk to the lady that owned it, saying, "Where are my customers supposed to park?"
They tried to set aside certain spaces for his customers, but it took a while to train her patrons.
"If you want to make money," he finally declared, loudly & boldly, over the road-noise of the Ted Williams parkway, the 56 » "Sell marijuana."
So there you have it. Immigrant financial wisdom.
And just in case you were wondering .. yes, it's true » OG Kush is Ocean Grown .. and does not refer to the destination of the river Gihon that flowed out of Eden ..
.. which probably refers to modern day Sudan, where the Blue Nile meets the White Nile.
Rather, the Kush in OG Kush refers to the area around the Hindu Kush mountain range in northern Pakistan and eastern Afghanistan.
And now that we got that bit of business out of the way...
While we are on the topic of cannabis, I would like to take a moment here to petition our government ..
.. and encourage them to remove the encumbering restrictions associated with conducting cannabis research ..
.. now that the country has moved so far in that direction. Most of the people who are against it will be dead another decade or two.
So we might as well get the show on the road now.
Especially when so many US presidents openly acknowledge cannabis use. And stop being such a hypocrite, Jeb.
Time to bring our laws into the twenty-first century and enact some modern legislation that takes our government out of the dark ages of the paranoid past and into the Third Millennium, where they should be.
So we can get some top quality research done at some top quality universities. Or do we-the-people not deserve such a thing?
We have demonstrated the ability to insert things into people's asses on the other side of the world .. but we somehow can't seem to enact reasonable cannabis laws right here in our own country? Is that what you're telling me?
I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about that doesnt seem right.
If this modern legislation is something you guys cant do, then you should probably just retire now and let some more capable legislators take the reins and show you how it's done.
So we stop wasting any more taxpayer dollars on an incompetent government .. who seem more interested in inserting things into the asses of foreigners located on the other side of the globe.
Update August 10, 2016 » About fucking time. You're only a few decades late. Our government finally peeks out from the social stone age. Welcome to the new age, dawg.
How's your two-week long birthday party going? Sounds totally bitchin'. Hopefully you are livening-up that sleepy, little town.
Was your daughter really caught on camera smoking some Schedule 1 Controlled substance? .. that is, a drug in the same classification as heroin?
Your daughter was caught doing something in the same classification as heroin?
Perhaps you can better appreciate how silly this looks to us-the-people.
If you leave such classifications to people whose jobs and livelihood depend on such classifications .. then this is the kind of silly absurdity that you are going to get.
They are obviously more interested in protecting their jobs than accepting reality. They must be smoking something very strong .. to alter their perception of reality so drastically.
Please fix this silly nonsense before you leave office. It makes America look stupid. And we've had enough of that with George Bush.
Let's try to bring our laws out of the dark ages.
Perhaps you could retrain them to look instead for bankers selling fraudulent financial products. Those things do way more harm to way more people for way longer lengths of time.
Or, maybe you are not interested in uncovering such fraud? A case could be made for that.
Oh, look .. the Times Editorial staff echoes my sentiment. It's embarrassing for us, as citizens, to see our government operating in a land of make-believe. Get a fucking clue .. please.
< end update August 10, 2016 about fucking time >
» The end. ?
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see » here.
Update » Einstein said that » experience is the only source of knowledge. With Einstein in mind, I wanted to conduct some in-depth research.
So I finally got a doctor to write me a script for cannabis, a medical recommendation. Certified with official serial numbers and embossed with a very official-looking seal and even entered into an official database.
Dude, there were people waiting when I got there and there were more people waiting when I left. A constant stream a patients from what I could see. All cash.
One lady works the desk and takes your money, while a doctor sits in a separate room in the back, behind a desk.
The lady was very nice. Downright loving. And the doc was almost too helpful.
The doc basically told me that the herb would not get rid of the effects of my cancer treatment, but that it would merely temporarily relieve some of my symptoms.
He actually went on for quite a while .. telling me about this and that .. to the point that I started thinking » "Dude, I know how to do this shit. Just sign the stupid piece of paper, will ya? So I can get out of of here and go back to bed. Cant ya see that I am feeling like hammered dog krap?"
It was nice that they gave me a cancer patient's discount. Cuz money has been tight, very tight. I didnt even have enough money left to purchase any medicine.
So a friend brought over some medical-grade of ganja .. the kine .. grown by Rastafarian virgins with only the purest and most loving of intentions.
They also brought along a vaporizer called the » Magic Flight Launch Box. (Which can be had for US$85 delivered.) Made locally here in San Diego.
Dude, I had never used one of these vaporizers before. The only vaporizer that I had any experience with .. was always used in conjunction with the slathering of a gob of Vicks VapoRub.
With this vaporizer that I used today, you insert a powerful AA battery into a circular tunnel that is bored into a small block of wood. When the battery makes contact, direct current heats the herb, which sits in a trench made of metal in the form of a fine-mesh screen.
It heats the herb to 350-to-400 degrees Fahrenheit. Which is lower than the 451 degrees required for combustion (Ray Bradbury, 1953).
I actually thought the thing wasnt working .. or that I didnt know how to use it properly.
But then » ka-POW!.
Wow. I am very fucked up. I had no idea that you could get soo fucked up from no smoke at all.
I mean, you could use of of these things in a crowd and nobody would ever know. There is no smell. No smoke. No nothing. Nothing telling .. except your shit-eating grin.
This is why I thought I wouldnt feel anything. So yes, I am surprised.
This is good stuff that I vape'd called » Girl Scout Cookies. An sativa-dominant hybrid.
These are not your sister's girl scout cookies .. no, sir. Let me tell you.
I used to always prefer the sativa's .. for their cerebral effects. But now, after cancer treatment, I want only the indica's .. for their pain-relieving and relaxing effects.
At first, I thought that 'Girl Scout Cookies' was a silly name. I no longer feel that way. Much respect.
I am so blissed-out right now. Wow. This is nice. Very nice .. especially after receiving the diagnosis of » cancer-free, baby!
It definitely enhances the celebratory feelings associated with the diagnosis. Feelings of gratitude. Thankfulness.
But I definitely smoked too much. (Smoked is not the right word to use there, because there is really no smoke involved.)
Rastafarians use this stuff as part of their religious ceremonies. I can see how that might be. If you bring the right intention to it.
I would like to speak to this later, but not now.
You cannot really do much of anything while on this stuff. It is that strong.
Nothing on your feet .. nothing involving very much hand-eye coordination.
But it last only 90 minutes, or so.
I took only two medium hits. After the first, when I saw that no smoke came out, I thought I got nothing. So I tried again.
I was actually going to try a third, when I thought » "You should wait a little, first."
A few minutes later the freight train arrived. The freight train of bliss. Youza.
With the sativa's, you can actually function .. rather well. And even with the sativa-dominants. But not with the indica's. Your ass is slowing down and in a hurry. Good night, sweet prince.
Or perhaps it affects me more strongly because of my physically weakened state following radiation / chemo / immuno-therapy.
Eight metrics for my blood are still a good ways from even the bottom of the normal band. Metrics such as hemoglobin, red blood cell count, white blood cell count and things like that.
Even during cancer treatment, I had trouble with the prescribed narcotic pain meds.
The reason that prayer seems easier while under the influence is because » God is a spirit.
And the cannabis seems to affect your mind in ways (disable?) that make it easier for you to be conscious of the spiritual realm.
Or maybe it just feels that way.
I mean, there's not much you can do except pray and feel grateful to be alive.
Scripture says that the Spirit Himself bears witness » with our spirits (.. not with our minds). Think about that .. but not too much.
Scripture even says that » our spirits (.. again » not our minds) are the WAY WE KNOW that we have (right now, present-tense, not when we die, like I thought growing up as a Catholic) eternal life.
[[ This might be a good place to share about my experience with eternal life.
The eternal, everlasting, resurrection, zoe life of God .. the very life and nature of God Himself ..
.. the thing that makes God God ..
.. is a lot like love and an understanding of calculus.
In that, when you have it, you know it.
And if you dont know it, then I cant see how you could possibly have it.
At least, this has been my experience.
Knowing that you have eternal life is a very cool thing .. which I did not have as a Catholic.
It brings a sense of peace .. a deep-seat, all-prevailing sense of peace .. which seems to go beyond what I can intellectually comprehend.
Peter says that peace is "multiplied" to us thru knowledge. Knowledge is another way to say » knowing something.
So Peter's verse resonates with my own experience. ]]
See what I was trying to say about the effects of cannabis? I rarely write about stuff like this.
My point is that » altho cannabis does indeed affect the mind .. it does not seem to affect the spirit. Or at least, not impair it.
And sometimes our minds can interfere with seeing things clearly, from seeing the light, from seeing the truth, from seeing your way.
So, if you disable the thing that is hindering your understanding .. if you disable the faulty circuit .. sometimes you can see things more clearly.
Particularly things of a spiritual nature. (Notice that I did not use the term religious.)
Here's your homework assignment » take a hit of something kushy [ extra points if you smoke your Kush with Cush ] and determine the difference between your spirit and your soul, as defined by scripture.
I mean, they cant be the same thing (like I used to think) if you can divide and separate them. No?
I would argue that this distinction is important because scripture suggests that God enlightens us (men) and guides us thru our spirits (.. not our souls).
I have found that your soul is the part of you which contains (among other things) » your mind.
And scripture differentiates between the spirit and the mind.
Consider what Dostoevsky said, when he wrote to his brother, Mikhail. Here is the passage, pulled straight from the book (page 56/57 from his bio):
Mikhail had written to his brother that "to know more, one must feel less." Feodor's answer is a vehement assertion to the contrary. "What do you mean by the word to know?" he asked belligerently. "To know nature, the soul, god, love ... These are known by the heart, not the mind."
Does it not seem like Dostoevsky is agreeing with me?
Now, put THAT in your pipe and smoke it. As Lance would say.
I ask because I have been wondering .. about what is written in the last verse that is found here ..
.. where Paul, quoting Habakkuk, writes to tell the Hebrew believers that they shouldnt "draw back or shrink back in fear" from "living by faith" ..
.. because the result of "living by faith" is » preserving and possessing the soul.
So .. what is it, exactly, that the believer here is supposed to possess and preserve?
(By not shrinking back in fear from living a life of faith.)
A passage by Peter here may provide a clue. (You know Peter.)
Notice the phrase here » ".. which is able to save your souls" and how tightly James ties it (the saving of your soul) to actual corresponding actions .. and not just talking a good game.
Some day you should remind me to talk about the phrase » "all that remains of wickedness."
I am no expert .. but I would wager that some people have more "wickedness remaining" than others. (Just a hunch.)
The phrase 'possess your soul' sounds a lot like the definition of the French word » sangfroid. No? (Calm composure .. especially in ugly, dangerous situations and circumstances.)
I also feel that sex on an indica would be better than sex on a sativa .. because you want to feel more than you want to think. No?
You want to be in-the-moment. The moment of bliss. The blissful moment. A nice, long, leisurely moment. Exploring the galaxy together.
Of course, this would naturally require further in-depth research.
They left with me a sample nug of this stuff called Bubba Kush. I think it's supposed to taste like bubble gum.
"Careful. This shit will put even a tweaking crackhead into a coma for a few hours. So you want to get where you're going before sparking this thing. We're talking horizontal here. It would not be a bad idea to have your pajamas on already."
This stuff actually reminds me of cotton candy. Not a densely packed nugget like the other.
So the Kush cloud cometh. I will need to get back to you on that.
Did I mention that I feel really good? Cuz I do. Perhaps because I am feeling » no pain. I am so blissed-out.
You can return to the exact spot from which the text in this entry originated .. see » here.
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]]>Most interesting of all the things she wrote is this �
� "Cancer is such a mystery. My brother was the epitome of health before treatment. A marathon runner, a tri-athlete and an elite cyclist.
He never smoked, he didn't drink and he ate a very healthy diet. He is only 39. So who knows?"
I read her statement multiple times. I could feel myself trying to wrap my head around the implications.
If nothing else, it doesnt seem fair, does it?
[ Here is a similarly-themed article about young, healthy, athletic people who have strokes. ]
As a cancer patient, you cant help but try to figure out this shit.
During my many rides down to Moores, I would talk to the drivers. I recall one saying �
� "I smoked two packs a day for 25 years before I quit." [ And he never got cancer. ]
Myself, I smoked a little as a teenager, but never really enjoyed it very much. Rather, I was just trying to be cool.
My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer after not having smoked for 20 years. [ "Honey, we didnt know cigarettes were bad for you. When we found out, we quit." ]
I've never been much of a smoker or a drinker. Go figure.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���With me, the oncologists say it is caused by HPV-16, which a biopsy of my swollen lymph node tested positive for. "The virus somehow gets into your DNA."
On a different topic, I found that, as a cancer patient, this article resonates, titled � How to Be a Friend in Deed.
In particular, note the following three statements:
But what if you want to do more? What if you don't want to succumb to the drive-by badges of contemporary friendship -- a "like," an emoji, a hashtag (#JeSuisThinkingofYou). What if you don't believe all those platitudes: "Love ya! You'll get through it! Everything happens for a reason!"
Our instinct is often to say to a friend who's suffering, "Let me know if there's anything you need." While well meaning, this gesture unintentionally shifts the obligation to the aggrieved.
Everyone seems to agree that there's a list of hackneyed phrases we should avoid. Some things don't get better, everything's not always for the best, there isn't always a bright side.
I will update you on my status, but my ass has been sucking serious wind since treatment ended.
I did not want to believe the chemo doctor when she said � "These next few weeks will be among the toughest, physically .. because of a building up of effects."
True that. I am all fucked up. Today is two weeks since the end of radiation / chemo. Obviously not long enough.
I have felt so horribly bad for so long that I am so eager for the day when I feel like I have started to mend.
I have been so tired that, some days, I sleep for 12 hours .. get up for a few .. and fall back asleep for 3 or 4 more.
My platelets are pretty low at 22K, where 150K is low end of the normal band (up to 370K). The chemo doctor said that the chemo does that and that I shouldnt freak out if I started bleeding.
If my platelets drop to 10K, she said they would give me an infusion. Low platelets make you feel cold. Remember what the dying cowboy always says, lying there in the arms of his love-interest after losing the gunfight � "I feel cold."
She actually seemed more concerned about my sodium. So I guess sodium is pretty important. She said the chemo strips out your sodium, too.
She told me to stop drinking so much water, because that dilutes your sodium, and to start sipping more chicken broth, which is loaded with sodium.
She wants me to come back in a few days for another blood test, and if my sodium hasnt improved, she said that she would put me in the hospital. Oh, joy. Low sodium makes you feel ditzy, stupid, unable to focus, mentally.
I continue to lose weight .. down to 154. That means I've dropped nearly 30 lbs. When I put on my pants, they are very loose. Nausea, no appetite, dry heaves. Wake-n-puke every morning. [ print: 'Hello world, cancer patient'; ]
So bad have I been feeling, so nauseous, so shitty ..
.. that I stopped by this place that sells legal medical cannabis.
I heard that you can purchase some for as little as $10.
But you cannot, I learned, just walk into a place and buy cannabis. No, sir.
Not even if you are being treated for cancer and you have all the paperwork to prove it.
Rather you must first go see a doctor and get an official license. (A medical 'recommendation,' I think they are called.) Which, they tell me, is no problem if you are being treated for cancer.
So I have not yet bought any. Because I first need to go see a doctor who writes these recommendations. Plenty of patients have said it does indeed bring a degree of relief to the nausea and even promotes an appetite.
It certainly cant make me feel any worse. Medical cannabis has been legal here in California since 1996.
The Dog was the first one to recommend it. He has friends who it has helped.
Rad note � the subject in this section about purchasing legal medical cannabis .. has drifted far enough away from the original theme .. that it warrants getting its own separate page ..
.. see here Purchasing Legal Medical Cannabis in California As a Cancer Patient.
At the end of that page, I have provided a link that will return you here (to this page you are now reading) .. to the exact spot from where that page was lifted.
By the way .. it has nothing to do with today's entry, but today (Feb 9th) is the day that Dostoevsky died (in 1881).
134 years ago.
When you are suffering, Dostoevsky feels like he is right there with you ..
.. like he has boldly gone beyond anything you can possibly imagine.
February in St. Petersburg is probably pretty cold and nasty.
Pushkin himself (1799-1837) also died in early February (on the 10th, tomorrow) in St. Petersburg.
Of all the superlatives that I have read about Dostoevsky ..
.. probably the most impressive praise is found on the inside flap of the hardback version of the Brother Karamazov ..
.. words which come from the beginning of a sentence which reads � "Beyond Dostoevsky's towering reputation as one of a handful of thinkers who forged the modern sensibility..."
Think about that. Think about what is required for someone to even make such a statement about you.
Rad note � the subject in this section on Dostoevsky has drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate entry, see here � The Day Dostoevsky Stopped Suffering.
At the end of that page you will find a link that will return you to the exact spot (on this page that you are now reading) from where this text was lifted.
I like the title of that new entry. Two 'D's and two 'S's.
I have been creating titles for a long time. And I feel that there is definitely an art to it.
My approach now is just to let the title present itself.
I sometimes enjoy looking back over the list of crazy-sounding titles of the things I have written about.
Tho yes, I do try to challenge and expand my reach to topics beyond what I might be comfortable with. I call that the 'lunar landscape effect'.
I have always felt that Fitzgerald's titles were best .. word-for-word.
My most difficult title was � this.
More unrelated stuff .. here is another article that I found interesting, titled � What Would Jesus Do About Measles?
The end. ?
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]]>Instead, today's title is .. well, you see it there .. which I will use as a springboard to discuss these oncologists � The Cancer Killers.
Let me just mention that, killing cancer is no big deal. If you simply throw the host into a sufficiently-hot furnace, the cancer will die within a matter of minutes.
The trick, it would seem, is killing the cancer without killing the patient.
It should be noted that, my experience with cancer, while growing up, with both mom and gramps, was that � following diagnosis, the patient is dead within a matter of months. The kinder and more loving the person, the quicker and more gruesome the death.
Is there a statistical correlation between kindness, compassion, empathy, and cancer? I have discussed this concept (and the possible theories for reasons behind it) with my shrink during our most recent weekly session.
How many selfish, cold-hearted fucks do you know who get cancer? I'm talking empirically, here.
Not many, I bet.
But before I get into that, and discussing the cancer killers, let me update you on the status of my latest iterations.
Just when you think it couldnt get any more bizarre. Or challenging. Or trying. Or testing.
My VOICE .. it has been a problem, off-n-on, for a week or so. The last time I saw the radiation oncologist, he said � "If your voice doesnt improve by the next time I see you, I am going to look at it."
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���By this he means � spray the cocaine up my nose and run the cable up into my sinuses and have a look-see of my voice box (larynx). Which he did.
[ My voice did indeed improve for a few days, but had again failed by the time I returned to see him the following week. I thought my voice problems were caused by the acid in my stomach washing over my voice box during vomiting, or perhaps even using too strong of a salt-and baking soda solution to rinse my mouth.
Some friends have said that whispering is more difficult. But this only applies to infections known as laryngitis .. not when you have no voice at all .. when the cords are toast. Or at least, dry as toast .. involving nerve damage. ]
I heard him talking to his nurse as he did this, and I tried to remember what he was saying to her .. but I couldnt hear what he was saying all that well.
"Look at that. And look at that," I recall him saying. But I couldnt see the screen that they were watching.
Long story short, he said that my voice problems are NOT expected. Not normal. He also said the words � "nerve damage".
So he has scheduled me for another CT scan (this week) and made an appointment for me to see the head-n-neck surgeon (Dr. Smooth-n-Mellow) .. for him to scope out my voice box. (More cocaine, baby.) Also this week.
If they find bad shit there (evidence of a primary tumor, which they have never yet been able to find) .. that means (as he said) � "I will have to put more dose there." [ dose = radiation ]
"But you're already putting dose there," I sniveled like a third-grade girl.
"But not enough to kill a primary tumor," he said.
"How much more dose are we talking about?" I asked .. watching my oncolytic goal post retreat into the distance.
"Not much," he said. "Only about..."
And there was the longest pause of my life .. as I watched his eyes as his brain calculated the extra dose (treatments) required. Time seemed to stop. Things got very quantum.
This is week #6 for me. Next week would be my LAST WEEK. This past weekend was tough. I have been throwing up water. My weight is down to 164 � 162 � 159 � 157. I have now lost 25 lbs in the past few weeks. That is a lot of weight for me.
My body feels weak. I realized that there is a difference between 'tired' and 'weak'. But dont ask me to explain it .. because I havent the energy right now.
When I am tired, I feel more tired than weak. When I am rested, after a long weekend, I feel more weak than tired.
I have been dreaming about food. (Eating it.)
It sometimes feels like a big, black size-13 Nazi boot is stomping my face into the pavement. Or at least trying to.
They are kicking my ass. They are kicking the shit out of me.
So it seems like the radiation oncologist is taking forever to give me a number. I am thinking � "Two? Three?"
.. when he says � "Eight."
Eight days would be two more weeks.
Something inside said � "You gotta be fucking kidding me."
"Well," I said, in my lame, pitiful, whispery voice that is hard to hear, "that would suck."
"What would REALLY suck," a friend said, "is if you go thru all this shit and dont kill the source of the cancer."
I would be lying if I said that I was never tempted to give up. But really, what's my alternative?
Back in week 3, I could feel something different in my voice box .. sorta behind my adam's apple, maybe a little lower in the throat. Something dry and raw. It made me want to keep sipping water. To wet the dryness.
And I thought � "Wow, they must really be targeting my voice box." I mean, you can SEE where they are aiming the radiation .. when the thing passes in front of your face .. only maybe 12 inches away.
Three passes of 360 degrees each. Each pass targets a different area. It starts directly behind you (6 o'clock position) and comes up and around before passing right in front of your face (12 o'clock position) and continues on its arc until it again ends up directly behind you (back to 6 o'clock) .. before beginning the next pass ..
.. which travels in the opposite direction. It reverses direction at 6 o'clock. What a machine. You can SEE the shape of the constantly changing, constantly adapting 'hole' thru which the radiation comes. Movable pins/rods continuously adjust and adapt as it moves thru-out its 360 degree arc.
The radiation-dose'er itself (linear accelerator) looks sorta like a 9-inch deep (circular) manhole cover, with a 12-inch by 12-inch square (with rounded corners) cut into its face. The square hole is covered with a thick plexiglass cover.
Directly behind the plexiglass cover is where the pins/rods move .. blocking radiation to some areas, and letting it pass to others. This thing has passed right in front of my face, 12 inches away, every day for the past 6 weeks, so I've gotten a good look at it.
See .. regarding this "nerve damage" .. there are many nerves in your neck, but radiation does not really bother the nerves very much. It is rather the TUMOR that bothers the nerves. Which is why they see a red flag in my voice box.
Up to this point, they have been more focused on � "The bottom third of the tongue and the back of the throat, because that is where 95% of these types of cancers grow."
Back when I first saw the radiation oncologist, he said (something like) � "The ENT surgeon couldnt find anything, but he noted an abnormality on your voice box. I looked at it but was not impressed. But we can't rule out anything."
So they have been looking at my voice box from way back. Maybe now the primary tumor is revealing itself.
Back in October, they did a chunks-of-flesh biopsy of my voice box (among other places), which came up � negative.
These new types of 'sculpting' radiation machines (linear accelerators) have only been around for the last decade. Before that, they would cook everything in the general vicinity.
I asked my radiation oncologist � "Because I tested positive for HPV-16, and HPV-16 tumors respond better to radiation therapy, does that incline you to adjust the dose accordingly?"
I let my hand flutter down, like a butterfly landing, as I posed my question.
"No," he said, "but that's a question being taken up now."
Every day, when the 'therapists' come get you out of the waiting room at Moores, to get your daily punch in the mouth .. uh, I mean, your daily dose of radiation, they usually ask how you are doing .. which, if you were to answer truthfully, would be a depressing, whiny response.
So when the girl with the amazing smile came to get me, I told her about the possibility that, now that the end of my tunnel is in sight, I might have to get MORE doses.
"Well," she said as we walked down the long hallway together, "that just means eight more times that I get to see your handsome face."
"Wow," I said, surprised at the seemingly natural ease at which she was able to make me feel better, "you are good. I feel good when I see you." I mean, she didnt skip a beat. An instant response. Very natural.
I also told the main guy there as I climbed up on the table and laid down beneath the 'manhole cover' (linear accelerator). He said, "Well, it's better that they find it now." [ "it" = the primary tumor, the source of the squamous cell carcinoma in the swollen lymph node. ]
After my meeting with the radiation oncologist, where I learned of the possibility of 8 more treatments, the Clinical Trials girls walked me out and actually gave me a HUG before departing. That was very nice of her, I thought. She could see the effect it had on me.
She is usually there when the doctor sees me, or she shows up while the meeting is in progress. They all know how much I like her, so she is always welcome with me. I have praised her lavishly right in front of the doctor and his nurse. I was not making up anything; she totally kicks ass (for me).
Remind me to tell you the story about chemo #2, where I was stressing about being assigned to a certain nurse who seemed to have poor hand-eye coordination, who had previously left my arm with nasty bruises from multiple failed attempts at setting an I-V.
The Clinical Trials girl made a call and, presto, my favorite yoga nurse girl comes to get me. When I saw the yoga girl come get me, I let out the biggest sigh of relief.
When you are going thru this shit, this cancer treatment, you already have so much shit to deal with. You dont need any more things that can cause anxiety or stress or tension. (I *still* have these bruises today, weeks later.)
There is nothing like a nurse who keeps jabbing repeatedly at your veins, trying to get "good blood return". That is a certain kind of hell. She is like, "This arm doesnt like me," while finally moving to the other. I didnt say anything but thought, "It's obvious to see why."
You want somebody young to set your I-V .. somebody with good hand-eye coordination. And someone who exudes compassion.
Speaking of the Cancer Killers and chemo #2 (.. which was postponed for a week until my white blood cell count returned to a safe level .. neutrophils need to be a minimum of 1200 to proceed with chemo [ normal = 1400 to 7,000 ] while mine were only 700, because chemo #1 laid down the smack on my marrow ..
.. where all things related to the blood are produced, such as white blood cells, which fight infection, red blood cells, which carry oxygen, and platelets, which form clots to help you stop bleeding .. tho a week later my neutrophils count had returned to 1300.)
During chemo #2, I got there early and scored myself a nice window seat way in the back (with the yoga nurse, no less).
And I was watching TV there, seated in my cushy recliner, when on the screen comes Huntsman Sr, personally doing a commercial for his Cancer treatment facility.
And I say to myself (with the chemo dripping into my vein) � "Hey, that looks like Huntsman Sr." ..
.. who I recognize from the interviews that he did with Aaron .. and whom I respect and admire very much.
He is walking you, the viewer, thru his facility .. and I say � "Wow, Huntsman, that place looks nice. Very nice, indeed. You rock, dude." With views of the nearby mountains. Most picturesque.
"The only cancer facility designed by a former cancer patient," he says. (Uh, that would be he himself.)
And I can see how he speaks the truth.
If I were the Judge of the Living and the Dead, I would give Huntsman Sr head-of-the-line privileges.
Speaking of people at Yahoo Finance .. I finally found my girlfriend .. she's now at CBS News.
Wow. CBS News. That's as good as it gets for a journalist.
They do 60 Minutes .. the holy grail of reporting.
Back when I stayed in Corona del Mar with my 89-year-old walk-in-the-park friend, he watched it religiously, every Sunday nite. We made popcorn.
The sky is the limit, now. Your folks must be very proud.
Say hi to Leslie Stahl for me.
The Capital Account to � Yahoo Finance to � CBS News. That's some trajectory. To the moon. Beyond the stars.
(I heard that Fox News offered you a small fortune to sign with them instead but that you turned them down because you didnt want to sell your soul.)
Good for you, girl. You are totally kicking ass. I still miss seeing you at Yahoo Finance, tho. Ah, the good ol' days. Does Aaron ever call to say, "Hey" ? Mackie? Bill?
I guess this means that Hotties vs Nerds with Aaron aint gonna happen. Dang.
Ooh, I saw this, too. Nice. You make them look good. They are lucky to have you. I like your lively tempo better in this piece.
I must say .. you look so very comfortable there. So at ease and in-your-environment. (I would be pooping my pants like Robert Duvall in The Judge.)
Journalism .. is what you do. Just do what you do and continue to hone your craft. Continue to grow in experience.
After you get settled, dont be afraid to step out of your comfort zone and bust a move. A journalistic move. A twenty-first century journalistic move.
I'm so happy for you.
I never did finish that Flirting entry. Other things came up. After this is all said and done, I would love to go back and radify it. But who knows where the future will take us?
By the way, as I was leaving Moores one day, recently, I noticed a man sitting in the lobby, reading a copy of The Guns of August ..
,, a paperback copy with the same image on the cover that I use here. (Beautiful cover.)
He was a third of the way into it. Of course I had to stop and chat for a minute even tho my ride was waiting. Which was difficult because of my voice.
He was only too eager to extol tho book's virtues, and I realized that I had gotten more than I bargained for.
He bid me lavish blessings of 'peace' as I excused myself.
It's kinda funny that I just found you there now .. because Jorge is here again .. rooming in the office, where he likes it best. (There's a big flat-screen TV in there.)
He is the one to whom I said � "Come here and check out my new girlfriend." He is the one who called you "perfect". He turned 23 last week. Smoked his first joint on his birthday (.. to see if it would helps with the seizures.)
Friends say I should try smoking a little myself to do something about this nausea. I've lost 25 lbs in the past few weeks. No appetite. That's a lot of weight for me. There's not very much of me left. But the tumor is nearly gone.
Chemo kills the panther.
Oh, I saw the surgeon and he found NO evidence of cancer in my voice box. He said it was due to stomach acid "burning" my vocal cords. They still cant find the source. And it aint for a lack of trying, let me tell you.
So he prescribed Prilosec, which I'm supposed to take "30 mins before breakfast." But I dont really eat breaky. I just sip Ensure thru-out the day.
Had my CT scan on Saturday (17th). Will have to wait until next week for results. I am so tired of I-V's. My forearms are starting to feel like pin cushions.
Update 20 Jan - Met with radiation oncologist today who reviewed my CT scan and found NO indications of cancer in my voice box. I threw my arms straight up. Touchdown! Score!
I am soo happy that I wont need 8 more punches in the mouth.
He also mentioned that he noticed "good response" to the previous lymph node tumor (.. from the radiation / chemo) .. meaning that it has shrunk to almost nothing.
He said, after treatment concludes, they will bring me back 4 months later to take another look at it. (It = the lymph node tumor.)
<end 20 Jan update results of CT scan>
As they were helping me off the table today, the head "therapist" (radiation machine operator) .. the older guy who is in charge of scheduling .. said, "You're coming down the home-stretch, now."
"They're kicking my ass," I admitted, once up on my unsteady feet.
"It's a tough treatment," he said. "Probably the toughest treatment we have, because it affects so much of your daily life." (the mouth / throat / eating / swallowing / talking, etc.)
I found his comment interesting.
The new 'mask' that they made for me .. because I lost so much weight (in my face, too) .. is so freaiking tight that it feels like it is cutting off circulation to my head.
They let me bring the old one home. I have it here.
I hear lots of other patients talking about how much they hate the mask. Some patients require drugs to wear the mask. Xanax. Claustrophobia.
Met with the Chemo doctor today. She said that "the hump" doesnt come until 3 weeks AFTER treatment ends .. because there is a "building up" of effects.
She said the next 3 weeks will be some of the roughest, physically.
Oh joy.
Final chemo next week.
They checked my blood today. My platelets are low. Blood count nadir for this chemo occurs "14-23 days after infusion." Today is day 16. But white blood cell count is okay.
My blood pressure was low today (89/60). Unsteady on my feet. She wanted to give me I-V fluids, so I dont fall and crack my coconut .. but I talked her out of it. [ I am so tired of I-V's. ] I started doing jumping jacks in the office. "Look, I'm fine. Wanna see me do some push-ups?"
Tumor is "less than 1 centimeter," she said. [ 2.5 cm per inch ]
I like her a lot. She has an impressive yin-yang of gentle-compasion vs tough-strength. Not an easy gap to bridge. A Detroit girl. She totally kicks ass.
Sneezing today .. feeling worn out.
To be continued.
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]]>So I am feeling a sense of accomplishment and gratitude that I havent felt with other New Years.
Tho 'happy,' no .. I would not use that word to describe my New Year. (Just being honest here.)
You likely are familiar with the phrase � hump day .. typically Wednesday of a standard Monday-thru-Friday work week.
Last week was my HUMP WEEK. Week #4 of a 7-week treatment plan. The mother of all humps.
When I look back on hump week, I can see my ass there, dragging on the ground behind me .. trailing a good ten feet or so back there .. looking all worn out and shabby-like. Sucking serious wind.
The problem with my hump week vs your standard Wednesday hump .. is that things only get worse from here. (Say it aint so.)
Back when my ENT surgeon informed me of the type of cancer that I had been diagnosed with, he said � "I see these types of cases about once every couple of years; I only wish it wasnt you."
Now I know what he meant.
Already, I can barely talk. When I do it hurts. My gums are bleeding and look downright scary (swollen & turning pale white).
My nose is bleeding, so that I need to wad up pieces of tissue paper and stick them in my nostril so that I dont drip blood everywhere.
And those arent even the worst parts. Dont even get me started on my tongue. Or my throat. This is why I say that this does not look doable.
Four weeks looks doable. Maybe five. But seven? I'm not seeing how you do that. Other than eating tons of narcotic pain meds all the time.
When the Chemo doctor [ Medical Oncologist ] saw me this past week, after feeling the size of the tumor, she looked in my mouth with a light and said � "Well, you definitely have mouth sores." [ just like she said I would ]
In this sense my hump is not really a hump, but rather merely represents the halfway point up a gnarly, steep hill .. the hump being up there at the top of the hill. Cuz you will still feel like shit well after 'treatment' concludes.
I can see that a primary concern for the Oncologist is giving the patient enough information so that (s)he has a good idea of what to expect, but not so much that you freak them the fuck out .. which would not be difficult.
I dont want to gross you out. [ Tho certainly, I'm sure that I easily could. You do not want to hear, for example, my emergency procedures to help alleviate the mother of all constipations .. caused by the narcotic pain meds. ] So let me tout some positives instead, and perhaps even inject some Rad humor .. for purposes of stress relief.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���I completed the final (#4) clinical trial last week. I noticed that my immune system seemed to 'train' on the virus (vaccine).
By which I mean that each subsequent reaction came more quickly than the previous one, with a stronger response and lasted for a shorter duration. See here �
Trial #1 � Weak response didnt come until 2 AM the following morning. Minor chills. I put on sweats and went back to sleep.
Trial #2 � Strong response about 2� hours after the (10 AM) infusion. Demerol required twice to make me stop shaking violently. Cold as shit. Lasted an hour or so. The strong part. Generally felt like hammered dog krap for a few hours. Exhausting.
Trial #3 � Felt very bad between 90 mins and 2 hours after getting the bio-hazard pumped into my veins. Shaking and felt cold as shit, but not enough to need the demerol. The bad lasted maybe 45 mins. At t=2 hours + infusion time, they give you anti-nausea meds (Zofran) thru the I-V (so you dont puke up the oral meds they give you for body aches and feeling like shit .. which basically consist of 4 regular strength Tylenols and an extra-strength fancy Advil (but not really Advil). I remember sweating a lot after taking these meds.
Trial #4 � Strong reaction came pretty quickly at maybe 45 mins or an hour after they gave me the bio-hazard (17 mls). Shaking strongly like a mad man .. but I didnt press the red button. I didnt call the yoga nurse. Cuz I didnt want her to shoot me with the demerol. Cuz that stuff makes me projectile vomit, and I dont want the hydrochloric acid in my stomach up in my throat, which is already fucked up. So I dealt with it. Been there / done that. I know the dealy-o. Sure I was shaking like crazy, but only for 15 mins this time. My teeth were chattering so violently that I was concerned I might break a tooth. But I wasnt scared. And this time I brought my heating pad, which I set behind my lower back, which aches like crazy when the krappy feeling really comes. So dont think I'm not learning little tricks as I go.
Later, when the Clinical Trials girl stopped by my cabana (private room) to check on me, I asked her (knowing how difficult these 4 trials have been for me .. somebody like me who enjoys a good challenge) � "I am trial patient #23. How many of the other 22 have made it to the end of all 4 trials like me?"
She held up ONE (1) finger .. and not her middle one, either. One other dude. Out of 22 who began the trial.
"And he was a whiny, sniveling complainer the whole time. Worse than any third-grade girl. Not like you .. a true bio-hazard stud."
Actually, she did not say this, because she is much too nice to say anything like that. But that is essentially what she meant. (My ego's interpretation of her comment.)
I really need to credit the Nuclear Navy .. for my ability to endure major discomfort without whining or complaining.
I mean, they stick it to you so often and for so many years .. that you just get used to it.
Sniveling does no good. So you just suck it up like the rest of your shipmates and do what you gotta do. Thank-you, military.
But dont think I cant see how somebody might go to complaining during this trial .. because, yes, you do feel bad. Very bad. Very, very bad. Hammered dog krap bad. Beyond flu-like feelings. Like you simply cannot get comfortable, no matter what you do. Not matter how you lie.
Because everything hurts. When you put on your reading glasses, the temple bars hurt your temples. Light hurts your eyes. Sound hurts your ears. Thinking hurts your brain. Sitting hurts your ass. Moving hurts your muscles. Your teeth chatter so violently that you're concerned you might break a tooth. Should I continue? Because I could.
But the flu lasts a week or two. Whereas this only lasts a few hours. But yes, you are also dealing with lots of other shit. If it were only the trial, that would be bad enough. But you also have the cancer to deal with. And the radiation. And the chemo. And all the needles. And the I-V's. And the deep exhaustion. And .. well, you catch my drift.
Back when I was working commercial nuclear power (before the fall), I once had a boss who himself had been a staff pick-up ..
.. where a graduating student becomes an instructor ..
.. at a nuclear plant training prototype, where you train on a live, operating reactor plant.
These are the choicest of the choice positions. They would pick-up one or two out of a hundred graduating students. Sometimes none.
Not only do you need to have your shit together academically and conceptually, but you also need to possess well developed inter-personal skills and even political skills. Most importantly, you need to jibe with the currently assembled staff there. [ Idaho, New York, Wherever. ]
Which is why I was not accepted. It certainly cant hurt to apply for the position, but it was easy to see that I would not be at the top of their list.
Many years later, after I had matured somewhat, and long after I had been discharged (honorably, tho barely) I had the opportunity to work for (and with) one of these Nuclear Navy staff pick-ups.
[ Tho, after his 2-year staff pick-up position was done, he did indeed go to the fleet for 4 years. So he had plenty of sea-duty experience. ]
And yes, he totally had his shit together, operationally. And his inter-personal skills were indeed well developed.
I could go on and on here, because I learned a lot from him, and he had many interesting insights, as he was older than me and more experienced ..
.. but my point is that .. he had a saying � "Anybody can steam steady-state."
[ He actually had many colorful sayings. All original. ]
When you are at sea, running your rector plant, 6 hours on, 12 hours off, day after day, week after week, month after month .. sometimes nothing changes for a long time. A looooooong time.
That's called steady-state steaming .. and any reasonably intelligent crew of chimps can steam steady-state. Becuse nothing changes. A reactor plant is designed to be inherently stable. Self correcting. Boring, even, you might say.
It isnt until the proverbial shit hits the fan that you really find out what people are made of.
When shit is easy, any idiot can do that and look good doing it. But wait until the shit hits the fan ..
.. because that is where you separate the men from the boys.
Boy-bosses major in minors. They want to make the easy shit look hard. They want to make the easy and the mundane look terribly difficult. Because they cannot deal with the shit when it hits the fan. They do not wield those skills. Certainly not well.
[ I am thinking right now of that scene in Pulp Fiction where Jules (Samuel L Jackson) & John Travolta need Mr Wolf to come and help them clean up ther mess .. because he is good at stuff like that. And they are obviously not. ]
If you have ever had a truly competent boss, you will notice how he is able to focus on the really important shit .. and let the unimportant shit slide. He does not focus on trivial bullshit. He knows what's important and what's not.
Anyway, I have often thought of what that man said .. my old boss .. the former staff pick-up .. because, right now, I am no longer steaming steady-state. Not hardly. And I am learning a lot about myself.
I would never seek such a place of learning, and would gladly pay large sums of money (if I had it) in order to avoid such a place. But while I am here, I am curious as to how I will respond to this time of testing and trial and tribulation. Because it is indeed difficult. Very difficult. Even for me .. a true bio-hazard stud.
But let's return to my experience with clinical trial #4.
So later, when the yoga nurse came in to yank the I-V so I could go home, I said �
� "They tell me that I am patient #23 for this trial. I asked the Clinical Trials girl how many of the 22 others made it to the end of all 4 trials like me. She said � 'one'."
The yoga nurse high-fived me.
"Who's your bio-hazard daddy?" my ego said, pounding my chest like a silverback on Viagra.
(I think that she thinks I'm a nut, but is too nice to reveal her true thoughts.)
Speaking of membership in an elite group .. my radiation oncologist in on vacation. (Good for him. He deserves it. You want your doctors well rested and thinking clearly.)
And these doctors interview you frequently .. to see how your sorry ass is doing. And while he is away, other radiation oncologists interview you in his place.
Which is no problem, because they are all so remarkably qualified. [ They have 11 radiation oncologists at Moores. Eleven! ]
And I like to meet these other doctors. Because they fascinate me .. their skill sets. Their remarkable skill sets.
And I ask them � "You dont have to tell me if you dont want, but where did you go to college and med school and where did you do your residency? That kind of stuff interests me."
And they have no problem sharing this with you. And let me tell you .. they are all well pedigreed. All the best schools. Best of the best. And they probably made it look easy.
The last guy I saw .. this last substitute radiation oncologist .. or, who saw me, I should say .. he reminded me of Tony Robbins .. the motivtional speaker. Just a great guy. So easy to talk to. I really liked him. So down to earth. So able to connect.
He comes in and says, "Hi, I'm Tom Brady."
No, that is not his real name, but he does not say, "I'm doctor so-n-so."
He doesnt have to. He is a radiation oncologist at Moores. He has nothing to prove. He has (already) arrived. (In La Jolla.)
Pick your favorite college on the East coast, in the middle of the country, and also on the West coast .. and there's a good chance that he has been to all three.
I wanted to ask him � "Do you know Stiglitz? Did you take any of his classes?" .. but these doctors are busy people, so I thought better of it.
[ The Dog went to Columbia, too. He is very well-read. ]
Before these doctors come in to see you, their nurses come in first, and ask a bunch of questions. (Pain, anxiety, eating, etc.)
There is not much these doctors can really do for you. They basically tell you to keep eating in order to keep up your weight and your strength ..
.. and to keep you mouth clean (swish around warm salty water with baking soda every two hours). And to keep pooping (MiraLAX and Colace). But otherwise, you're fucked. (Punched in the mouth every day.)
As we stood up to walk out, I said � "Of all the nurses I've seen so far, you have the prettiest one.
There was a brief pause before I thought I had better add the obvious � Dont tell her I said that."
"I won't," he said with a smile.
Sometimes it's silly shit like that keeps you going.
Following the 3rd clinical trial, I refused the offer of a wheelchair to take me up to the building across the street to where I get my radiation. Cuz I was much too macho to have somebody push me two blocks in a wheelchair.
That was a big mistake, because I could hardly walk. And that two-block walk (uphill) wore my ass out, something fierce. About halfway there, I wasnt sure I was gonna make it. I remember walking on the dirt instead of on the sidewalk itself .. so that, if I fell down, I would hit the softer dirt rather than the unforgiving concrete.
So this time, I gladly let them find somebody to wheel my ass up there .. so I could get my daily radiation punch in the mouth.
He covered me with blankies cuz it was cold out. Sure, I felt like an old fogy grandpa, but did I care? Not even a little. Live-n-learn, baby.
That's what homo sapiens do. If you dont learn as you go, it's probably because you're a neanderthal.
Perhaps I should mention that while I (#23) was receiving bio-hazard trial #4, trial patient #24 was receiving his very first vaccine in the room right next door.
The Clinical Trials girl stopped by and asked if I might consider speaking with him.
"Of course," I said. "Absolutely. Tho it will have to be soon, because I am going to start feeling very bad here pretty quickly."
"He is not doing very well," she commented. "His sister is with him."
"You should send her over," I said, "I can tell her what to expect."
The Clinical Trials girl thought it big of me to offer to share my insights of the experience. And really, no one can break it down for you like somebody who has already been there and done that.
She came over. The sister. Her brother is much younger than me. He is still in his 30's. She briefed me on his condition. It did not sound good.
Whereas with me, they were unable to locate the source (the "primary tumor") .. with him, they have found it (big). And that's all I should say at this point. Tho you could see the concern on her face .. and in her eyes.
She was very nice. I liked her a lot. She sat on the edge of my bed. We shared a meaningful area of experience. So you could sense the easy mutual trust. I shared with her pictures of the Bug.
But the nurse came to get her to return to her brother's room before I had much of a chance to share with her. And then I began to feel too bad myself .. to do much of anything. Any my voice is severely limited at this point. So I need to make each word count.
When it was time for me to leave, the lights were out and they were asleep, so I didnt want to bother them. As I walked away toward my wheelchair waiting there for me, I felt something inside start to pray for that man.
Before I forget (which I seem do more of these days), I want to send a shout out to that guy who was playing his violin in the main lobby at Moores, which is very spacious, lending to wonderful acoustics.
I was just passing thru that day, to pick up some meds at the pharmacy, but he was so good that I stopped and sat there in the lobby to listen for a while.
Between songs I approched him and said � "You're very good. Thank you for playing. It sounds great in here. How long have you been practicing?"
He did a little math in his head and said � "Twenty-six years."
"Well, it shows," I said. "Thanks again."
I think it was a Friday. He was really very good .. so good that he arrested your attention. Made you stop and watch and listen. Probably a pro. Certainly good enough. Einstein also played the violin, you know.
A friend called a few days ago and asked � "Are you okay?"
And I thought of that scene in Pulp Fiction where Bruce Willis asks Marsellus the very same question .. right after he had just been sodomized.
How do you answer a question like this?
I thought � "Uh, I've been diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma. I've received so much radiation that I can hardly talk or eat. My gums and my nose are bleeding. My throat feels like I swallowed a bucket full of razor blades. My white blood cell count is too low for more chemo. If my temperature gets to 100.5, they're going to put me in the hospital. They already want to stick a feeding tube in my side .. because my weight is dropping faster than the aquifers in California. I am so far beyond exhausted that you can't even imagine. And they're not done with me yet. Not by a long shot. No man, I'm pretty fucking far from okay."
A better question to ask a cancer patient would be � "What can I do to help get you thru this difficult time?"
Speaking of asking the right questions .. let me tell you about a most timely call that I recently received from an old girlfriend.
There I was in the local drug store .. to pick up some MiraLAX and Colace .. which help you poop .. because all these drugs that they give you constipate you .. especially the Norco (hydrocodone) pain meds, which I recently started taking.
But this pooping stuff is expensive, and it is over the counter. In other words, I have to pay for it myself. And I am checking my available funds, and can see that I can only afford the smallest versions .. a 7-day supply.
And there is a turd about the size of a baseball in my butt that I can't get out .. at least, not without losing most of my colon in the process.
Just at that moment my cell rings and it's this old girlfriend, saying, "How you doin? Is there anything I can do for you? How can I help?"
I am normally reluctant to ask for help .. cuz favors often end up costing you more in the long run. Waay more. (You know what I'm taking about.) But I felt good about telling her my predicament.
"Go ahead and get the 7-day supply," she says, "and first thing tomorrow morning I will send you out a 30-day supply. No problem. Glad to help. What are friends for? Let me know if there is anything else you need."
So this old girlfriend is gonna send me out stuff to help me poop. I must admit, the idea tickles me.
By the way, have you seen Egan's latest piece (Jan 1st)? I love Egan. I find myself looking forward to his next piece.
This is also worth your time. (Feel me?) Here's more. And even more. This is very interesting.
My climbing buddy, Tom, has climbed El Capitan twice. He said that he did not like it .. that it was "more about logistics than climbing."
The end. ?
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]]>Next week will be "a difficult week," where I get chemo #2 (of 3) and my final (stage 1) clinical trial .. of the genetically-engineered vaccine. More bio-hazards breakfast, baby.
I did consider blowing off #4, cuz my ass is seriously dragging. And it's the day after chemo.
But the nurse who cares for me during these trials is so good that she makes it easier. "Are you going to be here next Tuesday?" I asked.
I've never had anybody who could insert an I-V that you barely felt. We're talking iron in your vein. She has her own proprietary technique where she first warms your arm with a heating pad.
"I hardly felt that at all," I told her. "You so totally rock. I've never seen the heating-pad technique before. And I've been getting stuck a lot lately. You're up there with Anna at the lab. She rocks, too."
"I know Anna," she said. "I hate getting an I-V myself. So, anything I can do to help minimize the pain .. I'm all for that."
I am not going to get much into it .. but my Clinical Trials nurse is yoga girl. A meditating yoga girl. She brings a calmness with her. A sense of peace that cancer patients appreciate. Very centered. Unflappable. (She's the one who hit me up with the Demerol two weeks ago.)
You are there for hours .. so you talk. Sure, it is a profesional environment. But, they are there to help save your life. [ Key word � life. ] So it is difficult to keep things from wandering off into personal areas.
We even talked a little religion. A little spirituality, might be a better way to say it.
We had a nice little chat about how difficult it is to actually meditate .. to stop, and quiet the mind. "Uh, first I need to vacuum the living room. Then I need to throw in a load of laundry. And now I really need to pay that stupid electric bill." You never seem to get around to sitting still and quieting the mind. She could relate. We laughed.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���"Have you ever been," I asked, "to the meditation gardens up in Encinitas?"
She had not, but was familiar with its reputation. "Lots of people said I should go."
"Afterwards," I said, "you walk across the street to Swami's smoothie shack and get a yummy berry smoothie. Treat yourself."
But when other people mention her, you can tell that everybody there respects her, and that they feel you're fortunate to have her as your nurse. I could not agree more. So, before I ever met her, I had clues that she was gonna be cool. They say it in such a way that they lead you to believe that you are in for a special treat .. and you are.
And she has a cool, unusual name. Which took me a while to learn.
So, here I am .. approaching the midpoint of treatment. Dude, I will be honest with you. From what I've seen so far .. the effects of these massive doses of radition to the mouth .. it does not look doable.
I mean, if there is no plateau'ing of effects .. it appears that I am going to be one miserable fuck. I mean, when I use my Waterpik (with warm salt water and baking soda) streaks of red blood pour out of my mouth and into the sink.
My mouth feels like somebody punched me in the mouth. My teeth have already told me, "If you use me to chew on food again, I will fall the fuck out. You think I'm joking? Try me."
The muscles in your throat that shuttle food away from your air tube and over to your esophagus .. get so damaged by the vicious doses of radiation that swallowing is panful and requires your complete and undivided attention. For the smallest of swallows. Cream-of-Wheat is my new favorite food.
I am having trouble keeping the weight on. They weigh you every time at Moores .. on a super accurate scale. Last week (when I could still use the swallowing muscles in my throat) I was � 181 (.. after eating like a madman).
On Monday for the Clinical Trial I was � 177, and people noticed the drop. "I'm trying," I said.
A few days ago I stepped on the scale here at the house � 174. Today � 171. "That sucks," I muttered, stepping off. I'm hoping that this scale is not very accurate.
[ Update Dec 29 � They weighed me tody at Moores � 168. ]
It takes a long time and much concentrated effort to get food in me. No chewing. Just swallowing. Wet, slippery shit. Milk is great. Spinach. Yogurt.
I so badly am craving right now a fat, juicy, greasy, artery-clogging hot dog .. with mustard and relish and sauerkraut. Instead I can only eat � Cream-of-Wheat. Baby food.
And I have chemo scheduled for next week .. which is not known for its appetite enhancing properties. Feel me?
Everybody says I need to get some Ensure or Boost .. those liquid meal replacements for old people with no teeth. [ Update Dec29 � Got some Ensure. My body likes it. ]
They tell me that everybody who goes thru this course of treatment requires a feeding tube. Dude, this is not Guantanamo-style feeding tube .. where they run a tube up your sinuses and down into your stomach. No.
Rather, this is where they admit your ass to the hospital overnight and poke a hole in your side and stick a tube directly into your belly. (I'd rather go to Guantanamo.)
"I am not crazy about the idea," I said, "of tubes sticking out of my body."
[ "Jesus has a hole in his side, I hear," one person said. "So you probably shouldnt be too terribly grossed out by the idea." ]
So I am working very hard to keep the weight on. I mean, I get up in the middle of the night just to eat. But the pounds just keep falling off .. a few more every time I step on the scale.
"At what week do patients like me," I asked, "typically require a feeding tube?" [I just finished week 3.]
"Most patients already have a feeding tube," she said, "by this point in the treatment."
She added, "I called Thornton [ hospital ] today to get things moving for you. So that when and if you need the tube, there will be no waiting. So, if they call you, and say that they're ready for you, just tell them that you're not ready for it yet."
They also gave me some hydrocodone (narcotic) pain meds. "At what point do patients like me usually require the narcotic pain meds?" I asked.
"Most patients are already on pain meds by this point," she said.
So, while I may not be doing so great .. I am doing better than most. Tho I admit that the next few weeks do not look doable. "One day at a time," my friends say. "You'll get thru this."
In this sense, the cure seems worse than the disease. I never felt this bad when I (merely) had cancer.
I never felt like somebody had punched me in the mouth. (And yes, I've been punched in the mouth .. so I know the feeling, but never this hard.) I never saw streaks of blood flowing down the drain in the bathroom sink. I never had such trouble swallowing.
Really, the chemo is no problem. Just a little nausea for few days. Even the clinical trials are no problem, relatively speaking. (Bio-hazards for breakfast.) Sure, you feel like hammered dog krap for a few hours, but then you're done. It's the radiation that really fucks you up.
These fantastic doses. They dose you with such high levels that I dont even want to know. You can feel it. They say you cant, but you can. The actul daily radiation shot lasts maybe 5 minutes. Quick .. like a punch. It takes twice tht long for them to prep you and check your alignment.
The idea is to disrupt the reproduction process of the cancer cells, which are rapidly reproducing cells. Bust up the DNA when it tries to split. Fuck it up.
You need to stay on it. Keep hitting it.
Every day you go down to La Jolla and get punched in the mouth. A good, hard solid shot .. straight to the kisser � crack-o. "How does that taste, bitch?".
For pain, right now, I take a half of a regular strength Tylenol. They told me that Tylenol is better than Advil for cancer patients because Advil tends to drop your platelets. (Or something like that.) And chemo also drops your platelets.
The hyrocodone (Norco) comes with Tylenol. Dont think I havent been eye'ing the bottle, sitting there on my dresser. I will let you know what I think when I finally need to go junkie. (I'll probably start with a half .. like I did with the LORazepam.)
They also gave me some LORazepam, an anti-anxiety med for when you have trouble sleeping. Now, that is something that I have tried. After a bath, before bed. Nice. "Night-night, sweet prince."
Update Dec 29 � Took a half of the hydrocodone pain med that they gave me (Norco). Wow. I am so fucked up. Very floaty. White with specs of red. It keeps coming and coming. Glad I took only half. Definitely makes me sleepy.
I am so tired .. so exhausted. Beyond exhausted. For example, I came home on Mondy, after clinical trial #3 (bio-hazard for breakfast #3) and slept 18 straight hours (4PM to 10AM) .. waking only to remove my sweaty tee-shirts and put on dry ones.
But even those comatose 18 hours hardly put a dent in my level of exhaustion.
I was there at Moores, late in the day on Christmas eve .. getting punched in the mouth.
Speaking of Christmas eve ...
When you have cancer, and especially when you are in treatment, little things become big things. So you can imagine my frustration when I learned that my Healthcare provider mis-entered my transportation for the 24th as � the 25th. (Nothing is open on the 25th, Christmas day.)
They fixed it, but I had to be on the phone for more than an hour. Frustrating. Fatiguing. You already have so much shit to deal with .. you dont need any more.
As an afterthought, I will share this little tidbit. After I saw the Radiation Oncologist back in October .. as I was walking out .. this verse of scripture came to me (quite surprisingly) � "I will cause him to feast his eyes on my salvation." [ Psalm 91 ]
You have to check the footnote for the word � let.
I have been thinking about that lately .. about how that verse, that partial verse, came to me (so unexpectedly) at that point.
But first I should tell you about the dreams. Wow. Especially the night after the clinical trials #3 (with bio-hazards running thru my bloodstream) .. the night I slept 18 hours straight. I've never had dreams like that before.
Note to self � the lizard-like deep-purple iridescent left thumb with flashes of green (almost looks beaded, indestructible) .. and � throwing the guy out of the second-floor window, then hovering near the ceiling. I also had a dream about the Bug, but I dont think I'll tell that one. [ key reminder � steps on broken plate ]
But before I do that, tho, I should mention a most remarkable sentence I just read .. in an article by Steve Lopez .. of the LA Times .. (which we get delivered to the house every Sunday) .. who has written many outstanding sentences.
Lopez is writing about a Jesuit priest [ Father Gregory Boyle ] and a Sister of Mercy nun [ Sister Mary Scullion ].
Here is the sentence that, coming from Lopez, who kicks much ass, made me stop & reflect � "I'm coming up on 40 years of telling stories, and in that time, I haven't come upon anyone who's done more good in the world than Boyle and Scullion."
He then goes on to tell you why. You can read the sentence and the article for yourself � here (pub 28 Dec 2014).
What's in your wallet chest of do-good deeds?
Update Dec 29 � Went for chemo today. They wouldnt give it to me because they said that my white blood cell count was too low � neutraphils.
I was pretty bummed to hear that. So they finished the bag of saline that the nurse had started, then yanked the I-V and sent me to the principal's office .. uh, I mean, to see the Chemo doctor (the Medical Oncologist).
She said, "No big deal. Not uncommon. We will try again next week. The chemo zaps your marrow, which produces all things related to your blood."
I said, "What can I do to help make more white blood cells?"
She said, "Nothing. It just takes time."
I like her a lot. When she walks into the room, I feel calmer. She has that thing about her. Hard to describe, but easy to sense.
She also said the tumor was � "A little more than one finger." [ About the size of a marble. ]She was working me on the feeding tube. She said (something like) � "Look at this weight loss. If this continues, there will nothing left of you by the end of treatment. I need you strong. I need you well-fed." [ 181 � 177 � 174 � 171 � 168 .. in 10 days. ]
I said, "If I need the stupid tube, I'll get the stupid tube, but let me try, first. I just got these Ensures. These I can drink."
She referred me to see the nutritionist / dietician.
She is going to try to get my Health coverge to include the Ensures on my program, because of the rapid weight loss, and because they're expensive, and because my finances suck.
The end. ?
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]]>I am spending lots of time down at Moores .. meeting with this doctor and that ..
.. getting bio-hazards pumped into my veins. You know.
Had my second clinical trial this week. They said that they expected me to have a 'strong reaction'.
Dude, let it never be said that the people at Moores sugar-coat. No, sir. They let you know the shit is coming.
You can batten down the hatches if you like, but you will never say, "They didnt warn me."
So there I was .. reclining on the bed in my private room (which I call a 'cabana').
And they pump the bio-hazard into my veins. (The pretty nurse who does this is wearing a dang haz-mat suit.)
And I am thinking how I am such a tough dude that I eat bio-hazards for breakfast.
And my nurse (pretty with a great smile) says � "You might start to feel cold and feel like you cant get warm and start shaking, even violently .. now that your body knows to respond to this vaccine."
And I am thinking � "No doubt, this girl is impressed with me that I am such a tough guy that I eat bio-hazards for breakfast and do chemo for lunch."
She says � "It's important that you press this red button here at the first signs of this because I will need to come and shoot this demerol into your ass [ the I-V line ] so you stop shaking."
It only takes her 10 mins to pump the bio-hazard into your vein, but they keep you there for several hours .. to watch you.
My hottie nurse stops by every once in a while to check on me, and I am like � "Is that all you got? Dont you have anything stronger? Maybe you have some plutonium popsicles for me to suck on? That might get me going."
Then, after a couple of hours, all of a sudden, I am like � "Dang .. something must be wrong with this air-conditioner. That sucker must be broken. Somebody needs to call maintenance. Cuz it is getting colder-than-shit in here."
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���So I thrown on another blankie and pull up the covers close to my neck. And I start shaking .. shivering. But not too bad. So I press the red button. "What's up with the air-conditioner?"
She comes and says � "Okay, let's go ahead and give you the Demerol."
I am like � "Cool. I love Demerol. Remind me to tell you my Demerol story."
Dude, soon as she hits me up with the Demerol, I go to instant projectile vomiting. I am like, "There's goes my roast beef sandwich. $6.25 down the drain."
It's hard to be a bio-hazard stud when you are projectile-vomiting roast beef. Let me tell you.
But I stopped shaking .. which she called the rigors (rye-gorz). But only for 10 or 15 minutes. Then the shakes REALLY started. Holy moly. But they didnt have a pre-approval for any more Demerol, so they were calling around to doctors.
A "physicians assistant" came in and asked when I had the first dose and approved a second.
About that time, my Radiation Oncologist and his nurse showed up to check on me with the Clinical Trials girl. More instant projectile vomiting. Only the roast beef was long gone.
So there was basically a room full on people watching me moan and groan and shiver and shake and projectile vomit.
They are surprisingly cool with that shit, like they see it all the time. Dinner and a show. You know.
Long story short .. after an hour I was cool, so they sent me home. But that violent shaking wears out your ass .. in a big way. And in a hurry.
I went straight to bed and slept for 14 hours straight (8PM to 10AM) .. waking once at 2AM to take off my tee-shirt, which was soaking wet with sweat, and put on a dry shirt. And again at 7AM (soaking wet again.)
Yes, this definitely sucks, but if an hour of discomfort, even major discomfort, means that I have a better chance of kicking cancer's ass .. then it seems like a small price to pay. In the long run. No?
Your attitude thru this is something like � "No matter how bad it gets for me, it's worse for Mr. Cancer."
Let me tell you this one more thing .. when they genetically engineered this virus, this genetically-engineered smallpox-based virus, this vaccine, they engineered to be � luminescent.
In other words, you go into a room and turn off the lights and they shine a special ultra-violet light on it and the vaccine will GLOW .. where it is working in your cancer cells.
Is that not the coolest thing you have ever heard? We will do that next week.
They say it takes between one and two weeks after the first dose before you start blowing up cancer cells. Today is day 8 after my first vaccine. So .. let the detonation begin. I love the idea of blowing up cancer cells with genetically-engineered smart-bombs.
Cancer treatment is physically demanding. You need to get in shape before you start cancer treatment. Who'd-a ever thunk that cancer could be such fun?
Everybody is very happy with my progress. I met again with my Chemo doctor yesterday. (I like her a lot.) She's the one who said � "Sign here that you understand that your butt might fall off from chemo."
She said � "I see that you actually put on some weight." [ since our last visit ]
I was thinking � "I dont want you to send me to Guantanamo for forced-feeding."
Regarding tumor-size, she said � "Before it was four fingers. Now I can barely get two around it."
I said � "Two is half of four. Half after the first week is good."
Tho I am not sure what she is feeling. Because I can only feel something the size of barely one finger-width .. the size of a marble. If that. But she obviously has the more practiced hands.
Her hands are so skilled that it actually feels good when she feels around. I mean, even when I do it myself, it can be sketchy. But when I shave, I no longer shave over a big bulge in my neck.
You cannot see anything by looking at my neck. It looks normal now. Before you couldnt miss the bulge.
She also said � "My scheduling girl came and talked to me after she called you to schedule this appointment. She said, 'He's very nice. I told her, 'I could have told you that'."
In other words .. they like me down there.
Speaking of 'down there' .. my medical coverage provides a ride, which is nice, seeing that the courts took away my drivers license back in 2009. And it would take hours to get there by bus.
For example, a driver is coming to pick me up tomorrow morning at 5:45 for a 7AM appointment.
Last Thursday, on the way home, the driver got into an accident. Not too bad. A litle shook up, but nobody bleeding. Tho it took 90 minutes for them to send out a replacement vehicle.
Then on Friday, the very next day, when it was raining, they made me wait 3 hours to be picked up.
I kept calling and the girl (dispatch) kept saying � "Thanks for being so patient."
I didnt say anything, but was thinking � "My patience ran out an hour ago." I bit my tongue until it developed callouses.
That was my first week of radiation/chemo. Needless to say it sucked.
This week the girl told me that it was wrong to make me wait so long like that and that they were transferring my account to a different subcontractor. So now I pretty much have my own personal driver ..
.. who will be here at 5:45 in the morning.
I will be getting radiation shots on both Christmas eve and New Years eve. Ho-ho-ho.
I dont know if I will have time to get into it later, but sometimes things from scripture come to me while I am out and about ..
.. and the thing that has been coming to me lately, rather strongly .. is the story about the Rich Man & Lazarus .. particularly � this verse. For which I have reasons. Very compelling reasons. (I must say .. that has never been my favorite bible story. Not even close. fwiw. Nobody tries to think of that story .. if they dont have to.)
Instead of sharing about the radiation machine itself, perhaps I should share about the people who operate it .. a team of a dozen of so 'therapists' they are called. A very diverse team, with each member having their own strengths and weaknesses .. as you have in pretty much any team.
I would be lying if I said there were no stress in involved in the shoot, but they work well to help alleviate that stress.
I try to learn the names of everybody who provides me with care .. as my way showing my respect and appreciation for the care they provide.
But stress affects your ability to remember (.. as can chemo) .. so I sometimes have to ask them multiple times for their names.
They bring you into a room that is accessed via a giant, thick steel-and-lead door that is not unlike a bank-vault door. Two or three people assist you in lying down on a long, narrow table/bed that contains very precise measurements.
To be honest, it reminds me of the table that the Joker or the Riddler used to tie Batman to .. with the giant, spinning circ saw at the far end. But that's another story.
While they are positioning you very precisely, they give you clear instructions, such as � "Lay heavy. Dont help. Let me move you." Or � "Dig your heels into the bed and push up towrd me."
After they leave the room, they talk to you thru a microphone and speaker, saying things like � "I need you to move your chin toward your toes. Give me a little thumbs up if you understand."
They are good at joking with you to help relieve the stress. For example, there is a girl there who has smiling eyes and a smile so bright that it feels like three happy people walk into the room when she arrives.
And they are setting me up on the table/bed. She is on one side and this cool guy on the other. And I say to her � "Your name is so-n-so, right?"
And she says � "That's right."
And the guy says (without skipping a beat) � "My name is so-n-so .. if anybody cares."
It was a great little laugh we all shared. Because it did seem like I was focused on the girl with the amazing smile (who has an unusual name) and ignoring him.
"I know your name already," I said to the guy. But it's little things like this that can make a big difference when you are in my situation.
Yesterday, a different girl was there and they are again setting me up on the bed and she says � "I am going to unbutton these buttons, okay?" [ of my shirt near my collar ]
"Sure," I said, "I like it when pretty girls unbutton my buttons."
The guy didnt say anything, but I could see a smile break silently across his face.
"You liked that, huh?" I said to him. "I can tell." I know he did, because he is quick-witted, himself.
The first time I ever got shot, they were playing Ray Charles "Georgia on my Mind" over the speakers. Very nice. Relaxing.
A radiation 'shot' is not from a needle. A few people have thought this. No, it comes from what I call "the manhole cover". More on that later.
Like anybody, I enjoy a good, hard of day of work and the sense of satisfaction that comes when you finally lie down at night to rest your weary bones.
Hemingway wrote (see #10) in Moveable Feast � "It was necessary (see #3).. to be tired in my body."
And surely I appreciate this sentiment. I enjoy that feeling. In the Navy, for example, there were many times that I started work at 7 AM and worked straight thru to 4 PM the NEXT DAY .. with no sleep. (Which is one reason why the program is described as � ardous.)
And none of that really fazed me. Of course, that was back when my dick was always hard and I would pole-vault out of bed every morning.
But during cancer treatment, you explore new depths of exhaustion that you cannot imagine.
When you finally get rested, your rested perch is far more tenuous. And when you descend into the depths of exhaustion, after a particularly hard day or a particulalrly rough week, you are so unimaginably tired that I will not even try to explain it to you.
Only to say that you did not know you could feel so tired and still be alive.
Speaking of being tired .. I finally had to lay aside the coffee. The radiation cooks your mouth so that is feels like you gargled with battery acid. If you eat anything spicy or drink anything acidic (such as orange juice), you will feel like you sucked on a blow-torch. [ Trust me .. "Father Abraham, send Lazarus..." ]
I kept drinking coffee as long as I possibly could. I should have quit prior to treatment, but you know how I enjoy a good, strong cup of joe.
So .. when the coffee headache came .. it was at the worst possible time. I was like � "Mother of God. It feels like my skull is cracking." If I put a flashlight in my mouth and you turned off the lights, I am sure that you would be able to see the cracks.
I've never had a headache like that before, where it was so severe that I thought I might throw up. Live and learn. Sure, sometimes I learn the hard way .. but at least I learn.
I forget what age I was when I endeavored to live my life in such a way as to avoid jealousy. But it was probably in my 30's.
You basically do this by learning who you really are (self-knowledge), which involves a degree of honesty. As high of a degree as you can muster. You start small and go from there.
And then you live your life to be all of you (and not George Clooney or Brad Pitt) that you can be. No matter where that journey takes you.
If you can get others to go along with you, hey, great. If not, you go it alone and blaze a trail. This way, when you lie down on your death bed, you will have no regrets.
Self-honesty and self-knowledge (self-awareness) is an on-going thing. You have to take one step at a time. This is a big topic in itself, and a lot of people are very skilled at fooling themselves and deceiving themselves.
But my point is .. I'm not really a jealous person. Sure, I have caught myself being jealous of Walter .. but that was a professional thing. Actually, it was more of an artistic thing. But I am not jealous of Walter as a person. Feel me?
But since cancer came along, and really since treatment started, I have caught myself feeling jealous .. of others. For certain things. Certain things that I'm sure you would find silly and stupid. So I am not going to tell you what they are.
But I will tell you that today, when I opened a can of Smokehouse almonds, which I really love, and discovered that I could no longer taste them (due to radiation/chemo) .. I cried out � "No!"
There was definitely a tinge of despair in my cry. Tho no, I was not jealous here of any particular person .. which is why I told you.
They are targeting my voice box with radiation (among other things). I have begun talking much more quietly. I can definitely feel it.
The end. ?
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]]>Depending on the schedule of the day, I sometimes have to get up before 5 to get ready and make a bite of breakfast for the day ..
.. and dont get home 'til late. Long days. Five days a week. Sometimes I get up before 4.
Much to share. Not sure where to start. Probably should mention first that the tumor (swollen lymph node) is almost completely gone, already.
The doctor (Radiation Oncologist) said that is rare and encouraging.
Okay, "almost gone" may be a bit optimistic. But I would estimate that it has shrunk ("melted") to the size of a marble .. from the size of a date.
I also saw my original ENT-surgeon this week (Thursday). He was the one who referred me to Moores. He says that the fact that I tested positive for HPV-16 is actually a GOOD thing ..
.. because those types of tumors / cancers respond better to radiation / chemo than those caused by smoking / drinking. (I have never been much of a smoker or a drinker.)
I told him that the Radiation Oncologist was thinking of getting the surgeon to cut out the node and skip radiation / chemo.
He said, "I know. I told him that I didnt think that was a good idea."
"Why not?" I asked.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���He said (something like) � "Because then you're continuing to dump cancer into your body from an unknown primary. And this is not something you want to leave to chance."
"Well," I said, "I was pretty disappointed that it wasnt going to be over in a snip."
"It's not just a snip," he said. "It can leave you with all kinds of problems down the road."
The nausea is close to gone. My stomach starts to feel queasy when there is nothing in it, so sometimes I wake just to eat and then go back to bed. The hiccups are totally gone.
My appetite doesnt seem so great, but once I actually start eating, I realize how hungry I am.
I want to describe for you the process of the radiation, the machine, but not now. Later.
But I still remember the Chemo doctor saying � "The chemo doesnt kill the cancer. It only makes it more sensitive to radiation. Then we use the radiation to burn that bitch out."
No, she didnt say 'bitch'. But that's what she meant.
But they basically cook your mouth with radiation. They have this numbing mouthwash called "Magic Mouthwash" (prescription) .. but my coverage doesnt cover it and it is more expensive than I can afford right now. So it looks like I might have to tough this out the painful way.
Let me tell you, perhaps, about my experience with immunotherpy (last Wednesday) ..
.. where a girl delivers to my room a large white styrofoam box about the size of a microwave oven ..
.. labeled in large orange letters � Bio-Hazard, with that gnarly symbol that looks like a reddish-orange spider.
I shit you not. (This is the genetically-engineered smallpox virus .. the first of four treatments.)
The nurse dons a plastic apron, a face shield, rubber gloves and a face-mask .. just to hook it up to the pump that will pump it � into my vein.
When I pee in the bottle for them, the plastic cup is also labeled � Bio-Hazard with the orange spider. Very weird. After I come out of the bathroom, they put up a sign on the door � "Do Not Use" .. until a guy dressed in a Haz-Mat suit goes in and disinfects with industrial-strength chemicals.
[ Yes, I'm exaggerating .. but not nearly as much as you might think. ]
It was 17-ml's .. pumped in over a 10-minute period. They gave me my own separate room for this .. with a big, fancy hospital-type bed. They kept me for six hours to watch me and make sure that I had no strange reaction. I mostly slept.
That night, after I had gotten home, I woke about 3AM feeling chilled, as the doctor said I might .. but not bad enough to require any meds. I just put on some sweats and went back to bed.
They have been taking lots of blood. Four vials yesterday and also the day before. Pretty much every day, it seems. Tho I have this great girl at the lab who is so good that I hardly feel it at all. Makes a big difference. I almost consider her my girlfriend, if you feel me. (Someone who helps make your pain less painful.)
Speaking of blood samples, they were very happy that my liver functions looked so good, because that implies that the cancer has not spread to my liver. (If it spreads to your liver, you're fucked.)
If this shit spreads, two of the most common places are � lungs and liver. They have already looked at my lungs very closely with two CT-scans and a PET-scan. All say that my lungs look good.
They also take a look at my lungs every day during radiation .. when they use a light-energy x-ray to make sure that I am lined-up corretly on the machine before they shoot me.
So my lungs look good .. but since mom died of lung cancer after not having smoked for more than 20 years .. I am naturally conscious of that. (And I told them so.)
I also saw the psychologist yesterday. She was good. You could tell. A highly-trained, sympathetic ear. Very nice.
That was good for me. I will share more on that later, too. It rained hard here on Friday.
I found it interesting when she said (something like) � "Most cancer patients dont allow themselves to feel the emotions they are experiencing during treatment. It usually isnt until AFTER treatment is over that they start showing up for therapy. So just by being here, you are ahead of the curve."
Speaking of emotional support, I told this psychologist about my cousin Patty (.. because my emotional support was one of the things that she asked about).
My cousin Patty continues to be an amazing emotional support.
I could write volumes about her wide-ranging emotional support, but will simply mention that I shudder to think where I would be without her ever-present empathy & compassion.
I mean, it is like you can actually feel her walking along-side you. All the time. Truly remarkable. Something of a lifesaver. Emotionally speaking.
So you shouldnt be surprised to learn that I find myself calling her often.
Cancer, I realize, can be a difficult thing for people to deal with. I'm talking about your family and friends.
Most people would just prefer not to look on ugly, threatening things. Easier to simply avert the gaze to more pleasant things. This is a natural human reaction. Only the strong can look on life's ugliness with a steady, compassionate gaze.
This is why most Japanese citizens know little to nothing of how their government treated American POW's during WWII. They choose to look away. [ Americans are no different. ]
So when you find someone who is not afraid to jump into your dark-night-of-the-soul with you .. you appreciate that. Very much.
I also want to mention a nice message that I received on my cell from a friend who has since moved to St. Louis (.. only a few miles from where the unarmed teenager, Michael Brown, was shot in the head at point-blank range for jay-walking).
She left a message that said (something like) � "You are more full-of-life than anyone I know."
Never thought I'd hear anybody say anything like that while I was being treated for cancer (squamous-cell carcinoma). It definitely made me think.
( This was, btw, the same girl who said � "I could never do that." )
To be continued. (I am washing all the clothes I was wearing during chemo. They stink. Sheets, too. Nice to have clean sheets.)
The end. ?
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]]>This was while I was sitting in the Infusion Center, where they have 50 or 60 cushy reclining chairs ..
.. "We want you to be comfortable. Would you like a blanket and a pillow?" ..
.. and 5 or 6 separate rooms .. which I call � cabanas. (They will be giving me a cabana later this week.)
The biggest difference, right now, anyway, is that my legs are wobbly. I am unsteady on my feet.
They tell me that the two biggest side-effects are � nausea and fatigue.
Before they give you the 'infusion,' which lasts an hour, of a big liter-bag, they give you anti-nausea meds and a cortical steroid.
Actually, before they give you these meds, they first draw 4 vials of blood, which are sent off to the lab, next door.
"I just gave them a bag-full of vials last week," I protested to the nurse.
"A lot can change in a few days," she said.
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]]> ��� today's entry continues here below ���After the anti-nausea meds wear off in a day or two, they gave me pills to take home .. to take "as needed" .. both 'mild-nausea pills' and the strong ones.
The pharmacist instructed me to take the mild ones first, and if those dont work within 20-30 mins, to take the strong ones. "Most patients prefer the strong ones," she admitted.
She said to stay ahead of the nausea, because, once you get behind the curve, it can be hard to catch up.
The infusion drugs (chemo) should be out of my bloodstream in 48 hours. "Drink lots of water," they told me.
The smell of my pee .. is like no other smell I have ever smelled before. So I wont even try to describe it to you. But no, it doesnt smell like roses.
[ Update - This smell was not due to my pee, which they told me that chemo is basically odorless. But rather the strange smell was due to a new toilet seat, which was instlled while I ws gone. It smells like plastic chemicals. Very strange odor. I wrapped the seat in plastic until I can get around to replacing it. ]
I have been up since 3:21 AM, when I woke today. (Blast-off.) So I am toast. I will fiinish this tomorrow. I left the house at 6AM (for chemo) and returned at 4 PM. So it was a long day.
I was doing good until they called my name this morning. Then I felt the anxiety climb .. pretty far up there.
But the experience was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated.
I am curious about the dreams I will have tonight.
The end. ?
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