America's Best Idea...

Even though the Ken Burns' documentary style has stretched beyond PBS to many different video formats, the content of the documentary still makes a difference. I have two recommendations: If you aren't watching "The National Parks," you should be. If you aren't watching them on HighDefinition television, you ought to go get one. It wasn't invented to give us a wide-eyed Tiger Woods or Brett Favre hitting the open Viking. The grandeur and sweep of this video presentation is likely to make every living room eerily quiet, a bit like a walk in a Park.

Carrie Ellen and I were lucky enough to experience Yosemite earlier this year. We took a long bike ride, surveyed the valley walls, listened to the quiet moments--and thanks to Yosemite Falls, the overpowering sounds of spring. We also learned they had great cocktails at the Owahnee Lodge, not likely one of the high points of Ken Burns' video efforts. Standing in a national park, whether Yosemite, Yellowstone or the Grande Tetons always reminds me that once upon a time others stood exactly where I was, hoping "can we build a ratty hotel here and bring in the tourists" before they wondered what would happen 150 years later.

Of course the series has the politically correct debate questioning how white men could "discover" something that Native Americans had found generations before the first horse stumbled off a sailing ship onto dry land. PBS simply can't let go when it grabs that concept. At times, it can be a bit like Monday Night Football, better with the sound off.

I hope the remainder of the series is as touching as the start...with Parks that will hold special attraction for others in the same way that Yosemite holds me. Check your local listings, as they say on the news, because you'll be sorry that others have seen your favorite park and you were catching up on the World Series of Poker.

Oh...and the question of the day. If John Muir was such a recluse, who was the unlucky guy following him around with a massive camera & drape, tri-pod and negative plates with individually emulsified surfaces? How come we have so much ancient photography of Muir staring off into the wild? Ansel Adams didn't come along until much later...

No Glow!

Oddly enough, there are some interesting restrictions should we take the radioactive pathway. No, I won’t be glowing in the dark, nor will my eyes turn bright colors. In the same way that people should avoid multiple X-Rays unless they really need them, I’ll be asked to stay away from small children and pregnant women for nearly three weeks, until the radiation exits my body. I can be around adults, but no more than an hour for every six hours, and no closer than six feet…for about a week. Dr. Bauer says it will be a bit like I’m quarantined with H1N1 flu, but I’ll feel better. At the same time, given the re-emergence of the flu bug, it will be important to stay away from crowds in airports, public transit, etc.

So as I look ahead, and anticipate the best outcome, it is pretty relaxing to know that Monday will be my last day of work for awhile. Dragging this 800-pound gorilla through so many conversations is pretty taxing, although people are so warm and compassionate. We had dinner with Stewart and Kara Saturday night, and the gorilla stayed in the other room the entire evening. No explanations, no science, no game plan. I can't tell you how nice it is to do that now and then, though I realize people simply want to know the next mile post.

More when I know more. For now, it is working through Monday, off on Tuesday. Angiogram at the tail of next week, then a trip to Seattle for a second opinion. The procedure should happen the 10-16 of October, though it will only take one of those days. Then I almost glow, but stay away from people for another couple of weeks. I'm of a mind to go set off all the alarms at the airport, just to pay back the Transportation and Safety Administration for all the grief they cause we travelers...

Game Plan

I’ve been chat at length with Dr. Bauer. We shared “what if” questions and built a plan. It is quite a relief to know how what we’re trying to accomplish.

Several pieces of the conversation were positive, but I’m not always PollyAnna. Another treatment or two may not lead me out of the woods. I have very serious cancer metastasis in my liver. At the same time, losing hope and assuming none of the treatments will work is a bad idea, and I’m hopeful…positive…appreciative of all the love and support that I receive from so many people.

Cancer cells cannot live without significant blood flow. The flow to my liver doesn’t follow a traditional pattern. If all of us had multiple diagnostic tests, like mine, we’d find that many of our livers have “curious” anatomy and blood flow patterns. Not bad, just different. What is clear about mine is that we need to define the blood sources for each lesion/tumor so that we can appropriately apply the correct weapons.

To more fully track this anatomy, an angiogram will be done in the last week of September. I’m fortunate to be fighting very slow-growing lesions. There are those with a history similar to mine who’d have to drop everything and do this work tomorrow….because of the aggressive nature of the cancer cells they are hosting. Mine are perhaps more tenacious, but slow. Attention must be paid, but not tomorrow.

Shortly after the angiogram, I’ll chat with Dr. Bauer again. He’ll recommend either the return to the chemotherapy-infused pellets, or the beads infused with radioactive agents—nuclear weapons. The downside of the chemotherapy pellets is that they have already rambled through my liver, bumping into capillary walls and causing damage to healthy cells as well as the bad ones. That was natural, and to be expected. There is a limit to how much rambling of this sort anyone ought to be able to tolerate, and I may be reaching that limit.

The radioactive beads are MUCH smaller, and would do less physical harm. Although this may seem blunt, it is true…these are all very powerful poisons. The likelihood of damaging healthy liver cells is higher with the chemotherapy than it is with the radioactive beads because of the transport mechanism. Sooner or later, every cancer patient is faced with the phrase “It is now time to be concerned about the patient organism, and not just the cancer lesions.”

Shortly after the angiogram, I’ll have the procedure that projects the best available outcome. Right now, we assume that’s the radioactive beads, but won’t know for sure until then. My personal plan is to take October off and see how I recuperate, likely to return to work sometime in early November based on the results. I simply can’t juggle work and this medical stuff at one time, there is no reason to even try. I responded well with the time off in the spring, and expect the same outcome.

This is long, and may not be wonderfully positive. It is comforting to know there is a plan, though, and we march ahead.

Next up: Do Nuclear Weapons make me glow in the dark?

We All Wait

I was thinking at lunchtime that several folks might want an update, and are frustrated waiting. It helped me understand just how much I hate waiting around, wondering what the next steps will be.

Some people think it silly that I don’t care much about the wait time between diagnostic tests and the visit with the doctor that comes with the diagnostic explanation. “Don’ t you want to schedule them right away so you’ll know what’s going on?” “How can you wait over a weekend to learn of the results?”

The difference for me is that the results will be whatever they’ll be. Getting the news faster doesn’t change the message, and trust me…it isn’t like any of this stuff is very far from my thoughts whether I’ve recently been through some test or not. So another couple of days to learn of results has never bothered me. When I get the news, I get the news. No need to worry any more/less, or speed up the process.

Anyone who knows me even the least bit, though, knows what a planner I am. Not having a plan makes me feel empty, lost, confused. Right now, I have no plan. Dr. Bauer has tried to call, we’ve played a little tag. He was compassionate and concerned in his message, and agrees that there is no reason to schedule a “consult” in person. We know each other well and can discuss options over the phone with curiosity and candor. We both know we need dates, a plan, some targets, and we simply have to connect in our telephonic worlds to build the plan.

I apologize that I can’t yet share a plan with you, and realize it has been more than a week. The planner in me is working hard to be patient, to understand that in a few days I’ll know exactly how my autumn season will look. For now, all I can say is that I know where I’ll be staying for commencement in Valparaiso and Maryland, and that’s in May…!