A large, but very small, club...

As I've mentioned in this space before, there are many different reminders that those with cancer belong to an intimate club that seems pretty large...Tony Snow, Leroy Seivers, Jay Monahan, Randy Pausch....and thousands upon thousands who never really hit the paper.

Today, some news hit the wires that should make all of us stop and think. At the same time, what could a better answer be than this...?

"I would rather not have it. But the cancer is part of me. It's given my life color and texture. Everyone has to get something. Some people are ugly, some people are stupid. I got cancer," she said at lecture in Denver .

Dr. Jerri Nielsen FitzGerald, who diagnosed and treated her own breast cancer before a dramatic rescue from the South Pole, has died. She was 57.

For more of the story, in case you've lost track, go to:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/24/AR2009062403094.html

Hundreds of people pass away each day, depending on which statistics one reads. Not very many, however, reach the level of peace and awareness that Dr. FitzGerald accomplished. Those close to her miss her more today than they did yesterday, and will miss her more tomorrow than today.

When you think you're cold, or lonely, or confused....think about getting chemotherapy infusions in Antarctica, airlifted in the dead of winter to a drop zone completely dark. Even an opium den in Tualatin beats that. My basic complaint was that I couldn't get wireless in the new clinic. Sheeeesh!

Oh, and I guess that means I'm not ugly, nor stupid. Thank goodness for little treasures...

Small updates or???

People are so nice to catch up on my activities via this blogspot. I'm torn between adding little updates here and there, which seems a little Twitter-ish and egotistical, presuming that people actually care what I'm up to every ten days or so...and leaving people in the dark, wondering what's going on. Can't say that I've actually answered that dilemma, so this week I'll post a simple update, one that will perhaps offer an insight into the way that I maintain activity. Two reasons: I feel really well, and see no reason to cut back on activity as a result, and secondly, I don't want this stinkin' feeling that sometimes takes over to think that it is winning.

This past weekend, Jillian and I hit central Oregon. Near Black Butter, the Metolius River springs from the ground, clear and cold, into a complete river, not just a spring. Our dear friends Jon and Nancy Egge have a place nearby, one we all call "the cabin." My house should be so nice. Visiting gives us the chance to giggle far too much at dinner, and when recipe mistakes don't pan out. We drink wine and compare recent tasting trips. This time, the ladies shopped 'til they'd run out of options, and Jon tried to give me a chipping lesson on the golf course. I turned in the best round of the year, so far, and didn't lose a golf ball all day. (that happens about once every 10-15 rounds for me, I can lose far more than one in a heartbeat.)

We went into town (Bend)) for dinner, experimenting with a place their son manages with his ladylove. Great food, wonderful spirits. It was really cold that evening, though, so no wandering about downtown Bend.

Today, a charity tournament. Tomorrow night, a Chamber of Commerce dinner. Wednesday, cocktails with clinic managers, to try and meet some new prospects. Thursday, another charity tournament and dinner. Friday night, baseball with Connor & Caleb, to watch the Beavers with Judy and Vickie. Saturday, yard work, followed by Sunday wine tasting in the Gorge. During the work days, we hope to find that we've added another $300,000 in premium to our doc base, and marking a big star next to our names on the marketing roster!

That leaves a week of odds'n'ends, before departing on July 4 for upstate New York and the Baseball Hall of Fame with Lizzy & Billy. It is not only their wedding present from Dad, but I'll be there for their second anniversary. I can't wait to see them, and also the hall. Visiting with two real baseball nuts will be grand, but I also have a very personal reason. I have played with, and against, someone celebrated in the Hall.

Kelly Candaele, one of the famous "Kerry & Kelly" twins as I grew up in Lompoc, wrote the screenplay that turned into "A League of Their Own." Mrs. Candaele, their mom, played and was the spirit behind the movie and screenplay. Before she was married, Helen Callahan played in the All-American Girls Baseball League. One of my favorite youthful memories was hearing the dads say that Mrs. Candaele couldn't really play during the dads-n-kids game, because she must have "played first class softball." "No," the twins said, "she played Major League Baseball."

Mrs. Candaele, never one to be called Helen or anything aside from her respectful salutation, proceeded to hit bullets to all fields, drive one into a shortstop that broke his ribs, and showed us all that talent wins out, regardless of age. The fathers didn't want her on their team, given that THEY were the baseball players. "No problem," she said, "I might hurt one of the kids anyway." Hence the shortstop was a dad, not a kid, and we rode him hard for the six weeks it took to knit and he could pitch batting practice again.

Anyway, I get to look up Helen Calahan, and listen to "This Used to be my Playground" on my iPod at the same time. The movie makes me cry, missing those old dad-n-kid games, and visiting will be no different.

Then...oh. A few more golf tournaments and a Fubarian gathering in Eastern Oregon. Thank GOODNESS I'm working to pay for all this stuff....

Vickie is a delight to have home...if she actually lives here now and then. She's even busier than I, but we get a date tonight as she takes me for a cocktail on "nearly" Father's Day. With the warm weather and late sunshine, it will be GRAND!!

On the medical front, I get new diagnostics on Thursday morning, and the results next Tuesday. I'll be posting again, soon, and sharing news about spider webs, diminished cell metabolism, future treatment plans. For now, I just hope I hit it a little more straight on Thursday than I did today...the liver cells will take care of themselves.

On

Lucky Me...

During this past week, The Doctors Company held its annual gathering of corporate officers. This year, someone had to keep the nice people at Ritz Carlton (San Francisco) busy, so it was us. Weather delightful, got a lot accomplished. Unfortunately, however, it comes with a story....

On Sunday, several of us were treated to a windy day on the bay. After tackling San Diego's Misson Bay last year, we thought we were ready for one of the world's most impressive sailing playgrounds. This year, the playground won.

As we were tacking in 30+ mile per hour winds, fighting a four foot swell, Markyboy went down in a heap. My knees and elbows bore the brunt of the fall, but I basically came in for a landing on my cheek. This, less than a month after getting my teeth fixed from LAST year's fall.

I immediately checked all my teeth, and then looked everywhere for broken bones. No, my nose wasn't broken. No, there were no sharp edges on any teeth. No, I was not bleeding anywhere. Everything hurt, but nothing was seriously damaged. The best news I've had in a long time. Even more impressive than good internal diagnostics.

Now, before accusations start to fly....

No, there were no adult beverages on the boat. This was serious corporate "bonding."

Yes, there was ice so that I could prevent major swelling.

Yes, it was slippery, and I'm not in great shape.

No, we didn't win any sailing trophies.

After a couple of hours under an ice pack, and a little mouse on my cheek, I headed off to the first dinner of the meeting. Others were quite concerned, but the results weren't as impressive as they'd been warned.

Phew....another week and we head off to diagnostics, when we really find out how lucky I have been this past couple of months.