"I drink Heartbreak Motor Oil, and Bombay Gin.
I'll sleep when I'm dead.
Straight from the bottle, twisted again.
I'll sleep when I'm dead."
--Warren Zevon, I'll Sleep When I'm Dead
"Shadows are falling and I'm running out breath;
Keep me in your heart for awhile.
If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less;
Keep me in your heart for a while.
***
These wheels keep on turning but they're running out of steam;
Keep me in your heart for while.
--Warren Zevon, Keep Me in Your Heart, The Wind, 2004
Another sort of seismic shift this past week . Sleep has gone from bad to absolutely horrible. I'm afraid the end is in sight. 90 minutes here, up for 2 1/2 hours, 75 minutes there, up for another 1 1/2 hours, maybe 2 hours after that. This is with Atavan (a supposed sleeping aid/anti anxiety pill.) Hell, the only thing I'm worried about is not sleeping.
Say what you want about coke, crack, methamphetamine, etc,. As far as I'm concerned, the Devil's own is Decadron. It prevent swelling in the brain, apparently by keeping the blood flowing in the brain full blast 24/7.
On a completely unrelated note, donations are being taken for my children's college fund until Friday this week, for the publication or non publication of photos arising out of a certain party on May 19, 2007. :-)
Monday, May 28, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
How do they do it?
Whatever gets you through the night,
it's all right, it's all right.
--John Lennon, "Whatever Gets You Through the Night" (1974)
"The Strongest Man in the World is the Man who Stands Alone."
--Henrik Ibsen, An Enemy of the People, Part 5 (1882)
She went to undergrad at the University of Iowa at the same time I did, and then went to work in another city as I was going to law school. Our marriage has always truly been a partnership; the things she's good at I'm not; and vice versa.
One thing I have steadfastly refused to do since I was diagnosed with with brain cancer in 2002 is fool with the medical bills . It's not that I couldn't do it; hell, I did it all the time in divorces, personal injury cases, and workman's compensation cases. If there was one thing I spent a lot of time with, it was these bills--they are the bread and butter of the legal profession for attempting to value and settle cases. But I couldn't bear to fool with my own stuff (a) while I was trying to work; and (b) while trying to recover from news and treatments emotionally, physically, spiritually and otherwise.
Melissa stepped in and never missed a beat. What you must realize, is that nearly every service you receive a bill for is double, triple and sometimes quadruple billed. These are often sent simultaneously with nasty letters telling you pay some outrageous copay or sometimes the whole bill, or otherwise make payment arrangements or else they will ruin your (or worse yet, your spouses' credit rating). Basically, unless you tell them to fuck off, get there bosses on the phone, threaten them with violations of the Fair Credit Reporting Act (which they have almost inevitably committed) , they will try to force you into some sort of "payment plan" for those items which they claim are not covered by your health insurance. The funny (odd, definitely not ha, ha funny) thing is these charges are all fungible. Once the billing people have decided they have choked as much money as they can out of you, they move on.
Melissa and I have had several experiences with a neurosurgeon who I consider to be the most most brilliant neurosurgeon in the Central United States, bar none. Some people don't like him because they say his beside manner manner leaves something to be desired. This is probably true for a lot of people,who want their hand held throughout the the process. I'm not one of them. I, like the good doctor, but I am an extreme, type "A" personality. Tell me what you know for sure, what nobody knows, and what given my overall condition you think is going to happen. This guy does that. In fact, all my doctors now do. I can't afford to waste time listening to a bunch of happy horseshit about how some people beat the odds; we all are pretty damn sure I won't; so skip the platitudes. My time used to be worth between $175 and $250 hour, depending on the case. Now, it's priceless.
This particular neurosurgeon invested in a clinic about 15 miles away from the hospital I'm at , which is new, very nice and does MRI's (a necessity when gauging cancer treatments) amongst other things. After one or two times there, we refused to keep going there because they charged $300.00 more for an MRI than the facility next door to the hospital. The equipment was the same; (there was no more detail from the MRI in the equipment from the newer facility), only the cost (and inconvenience) was greater, which in turn made our co-pay greater. The good doctor gave Melissa a bunch of grief about it until Melissa explained why to him. He couldn't believe it until he looked into it and, found out she was correct about the substantial rate difference. He could hardly believe it himself.
This kind of crap goes on all off the time. My favorite though, is charging for procedures never performed and things (e.g. medication, health aids, etc.) never received. Melissa, bless her heart, not only was present for every medical procedure our children went through, but for all of mine. She knows what was done by the Doctors, nurses, etc., what was not done, and makes sure the bills are adjusted accordingly. At times, she has had to direct our own insurance company not pay certain bills. It is who we are and where we come from.
If they start in with threatening us about the bills, the first thing we do is ask for an itemized statement, right down to every last Tylenol, every 7up, etc. They will be shocked when you ask for this. That's okay. Let 'em be. Next point you make is that they and their bosses will have jobs for about 30 seconds after you report their doctor to the medical board for fraudulent charges on your bill which are nearly inevitable. It is really fun to to tell them how you are directing your insurer not to pay certain items because the the services were not performed. It is amazing how easy it is to work out a payment plan at this point in time and get agreements (in writing of course), that your credit will not be affected, and any previous blemishes removed.
But others are not nearly as well educated as we are; do not have a veritable army of lawyers ready to go to the mat for them; do not care about being overbilled; cannot comprehend one bill sent to them, must less three bills for the same damn thing. "Negotiated rates", the euphemism for for what insured people are charged for a certain procedure, go out the window when dealing with uninsured people. They are headed to bankruptcy court come hell or highwater as far as the medical profession is concerned. The same MRI which costs us $1200 -$1500 with insurance, suddenly becomes a $2250 charge with no insurance; it is one of the the dirty little secrets of the medical profession and at least one of the reasons doctors and lawyers tend to become natural enemies. [Although in all fairness, I've known many a lawyer willing to set up "payment plans" for clients who couldn't pay their bills. "Coincidentally", perhaps, these are the same lawyers who generally aren't very good.] Doctors generally feed their billing out to a third party.
Finally, there are doctors everywhere looking for glory in the form of publication of new treatments, i.e. studies . These experimental studies are the bread and butter of the medical profession, especially for certain doctors. (Hence the saying, "Publish or perish".) In a smaller town like Des Moines, (Metro population about 400-500 K) they really try to push "qualified" candidates into their studies. These doctors tend to be a hell of a lot more worried about their precious studies than they are about the patients. Since most studies turn out to be garbage (at least from the patient's perspective), this is not necessarily a good thing. Patients are generally given limited information about the risks, the possible benefits are played up, and boom, they are in the study. The only possible defense is to study up on the proposed treatments and make sure you are making an informed decision. When dealing with a primarily older population, whose minds are clouded by radiation and/or chemo drugs, you can pretty easily guess the way most of those conversations go, preying on the fears of the elderly, etc.
How do they do it? Not very well, I'm afraid unless they get the right doctors by chance.
it's all right, it's all right.
--John Lennon, "Whatever Gets You Through the Night" (1974)
"The Strongest Man in the World is the Man who Stands Alone."
--Henrik Ibsen, An Enemy of the People, Part 5 (1882)
"I hate those Internet fuckers."
--3 Doctors overheard speaking to 3 other doctors on seperate occassions at IMMC (Des Moines), Mayo Clinic (Minneapolois-St.Paul), and M.D. Anderson (Houston) 2003-2007.
She went to undergrad at the University of Iowa at the same time I did, and then went to work in another city as I was going to law school. Our marriage has always truly been a partnership; the things she's good at I'm not; and vice versa.
One thing I have steadfastly refused to do since I was diagnosed with with brain cancer in 2002 is fool with the medical bills . It's not that I couldn't do it; hell, I did it all the time in divorces, personal injury cases, and workman's compensation cases. If there was one thing I spent a lot of time with, it was these bills--they are the bread and butter of the legal profession for attempting to value and settle cases. But I couldn't bear to fool with my own stuff (a) while I was trying to work; and (b) while trying to recover from news and treatments emotionally, physically, spiritually and otherwise.
Melissa stepped in and never missed a beat. What you must realize, is that nearly every service you receive a bill for is double, triple and sometimes quadruple billed. These are often sent simultaneously with nasty letters telling you pay some outrageous copay or sometimes the whole bill, or otherwise make payment arrangements or else they will ruin your (or worse yet, your spouses' credit rating). Basically, unless you tell them to fuck off, get there bosses on the phone, threaten them with violations of the Fair Credit Reporting Act (which they have almost inevitably committed) , they will try to force you into some sort of "payment plan" for those items which they claim are not covered by your health insurance. The funny (odd, definitely not ha, ha funny) thing is these charges are all fungible. Once the billing people have decided they have choked as much money as they can out of you, they move on.
Melissa and I have had several experiences with a neurosurgeon who I consider to be the most most brilliant neurosurgeon in the Central United States, bar none. Some people don't like him because they say his beside manner manner leaves something to be desired. This is probably true for a lot of people,who want their hand held throughout the the process. I'm not one of them. I, like the good doctor, but I am an extreme, type "A" personality. Tell me what you know for sure, what nobody knows, and what given my overall condition you think is going to happen. This guy does that. In fact, all my doctors now do. I can't afford to waste time listening to a bunch of happy horseshit about how some people beat the odds; we all are pretty damn sure I won't; so skip the platitudes. My time used to be worth between $175 and $250 hour, depending on the case. Now, it's priceless.
This particular neurosurgeon invested in a clinic about 15 miles away from the hospital I'm at , which is new, very nice and does MRI's (a necessity when gauging cancer treatments) amongst other things. After one or two times there, we refused to keep going there because they charged $300.00 more for an MRI than the facility next door to the hospital. The equipment was the same; (there was no more detail from the MRI in the equipment from the newer facility), only the cost (and inconvenience) was greater, which in turn made our co-pay greater. The good doctor gave Melissa a bunch of grief about it until Melissa explained why to him. He couldn't believe it until he looked into it and, found out she was correct about the substantial rate difference. He could hardly believe it himself.
This kind of crap goes on all off the time. My favorite though, is charging for procedures never performed and things (e.g. medication, health aids, etc.) never received. Melissa, bless her heart, not only was present for every medical procedure our children went through, but for all of mine. She knows what was done by the Doctors, nurses, etc., what was not done, and makes sure the bills are adjusted accordingly. At times, she has had to direct our own insurance company not pay certain bills. It is who we are and where we come from.
If they start in with threatening us about the bills, the first thing we do is ask for an itemized statement, right down to every last Tylenol, every 7up, etc. They will be shocked when you ask for this. That's okay. Let 'em be. Next point you make is that they and their bosses will have jobs for about 30 seconds after you report their doctor to the medical board for fraudulent charges on your bill which are nearly inevitable. It is really fun to to tell them how you are directing your insurer not to pay certain items because the the services were not performed. It is amazing how easy it is to work out a payment plan at this point in time and get agreements (in writing of course), that your credit will not be affected, and any previous blemishes removed.
But others are not nearly as well educated as we are; do not have a veritable army of lawyers ready to go to the mat for them; do not care about being overbilled; cannot comprehend one bill sent to them, must less three bills for the same damn thing. "Negotiated rates", the euphemism for for what insured people are charged for a certain procedure, go out the window when dealing with uninsured people. They are headed to bankruptcy court come hell or highwater as far as the medical profession is concerned. The same MRI which costs us $1200 -$1500 with insurance, suddenly becomes a $2250 charge with no insurance; it is one of the the dirty little secrets of the medical profession and at least one of the reasons doctors and lawyers tend to become natural enemies. [Although in all fairness, I've known many a lawyer willing to set up "payment plans" for clients who couldn't pay their bills. "Coincidentally", perhaps, these are the same lawyers who generally aren't very good.] Doctors generally feed their billing out to a third party.
Finally, there are doctors everywhere looking for glory in the form of publication of new treatments, i.e. studies . These experimental studies are the bread and butter of the medical profession, especially for certain doctors. (Hence the saying, "Publish or perish".) In a smaller town like Des Moines, (Metro population about 400-500 K) they really try to push "qualified" candidates into their studies. These doctors tend to be a hell of a lot more worried about their precious studies than they are about the patients. Since most studies turn out to be garbage (at least from the patient's perspective), this is not necessarily a good thing. Patients are generally given limited information about the risks, the possible benefits are played up, and boom, they are in the study. The only possible defense is to study up on the proposed treatments and make sure you are making an informed decision. When dealing with a primarily older population, whose minds are clouded by radiation and/or chemo drugs, you can pretty easily guess the way most of those conversations go, preying on the fears of the elderly, etc.
How do they do it? Not very well, I'm afraid unless they get the right doctors by chance.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Today's Top 10
Another Guest Columnist, Dean Schmitz, (Hey, I can get used to this!) , that is one of my oldest friends. Without further ado:
Top 10 Things I’ve learned from Tommy Clarke in the 25 years I have known him:
Lists are for geeks, so here is mine.
10. Well, the very first thing I learned about Tom was that he was smarter than me. Learned that right away when I met him. And not just book smart, but wise to the world smart. He knew things that I hadn’t ever thought about. Heck, still haven’t thought about them. He opened my eyes to many things beyond which I was aware.
9. Even smart people can be wrong. See Tom’s thoughts on the Hawkeyes vs. the Cyclones. Go CLONES!
8. I learned a lot about music. I have always considered myself a music geek, but learned about a lot of good music through Tom. Joe Walsh/James Gang, Creedence, Cougar, Jackson Browne, etc.
7. Treat people right. I think he learned this from his parents. Tommy has always been good to people. I really don’t remember him ever treating anyone badly. Unless they deserved it of course. But, in general, Tom is very thoughtful, caring and interested in others. Sounds like that continued into his career, which is a wonderful thing.
6. Let’s just say that Tommy “improved” my drinking skills. He also taught me to like beer - the hard way (we got way too drunk on vodka and I have never felt worse the next day). Don’t drink before a Physics final with Tom – he will pass and you will not.
5. Humor. Tom is funny as all get out. I still have multiple letters that I received from Tom during our college years, before the Internet made writing physical letters on paper a thing of the past. I still get them out every once in a while and read them. Sarcastic, cynical, whatever. Laughing is a good thing and Tom always makes me laugh.
4. The importance of good conversation. Tom is always ready for a good conversation. This is probably connected to #6 above. I don’t believe I am a very good conversationalist, but with the right people and the right topic, I can get going. I need to get better at this, because as Tom has shown me, there is a lot to learn from others, just by joining them in conversation.
3. Surround yourself with good people. Tom has been lucky like a lot of us to be born into a good family. But he also surrounded himself with good people who he calls friends. Then he met Melissa and realized he had another good person that he needed in his life. I am also lucky to have a good people in my life (especially my wife) and am very thankful for it.
2. There is always time to say hello (again). I spent a decent amount of time hanging out with Tommy in high school and somewhat kept in touch in college. From there, we lost touch as friends do. I hadn’t seen Tom in a long while and then talked to him at our 20th year high school reunion. Since then, I have been back in contact with Tom, trading emails and CDs. It has been great as I always enjoy his company. You can always say hello to a friend, no matter how long it has been since you last talked.
1. New things right up until today. From this blog alone, perseverance & inner strength. To enjoy life. To love the people in your life with all your heart. The importance of making a positive difference in people’s lives. To “shock” people by using common courtesy. Be thankful for the small things and don’t forget to read the bible.
Top 10 Things I’ve learned from Tommy Clarke in the 25 years I have known him:
Lists are for geeks, so here is mine.
10. Well, the very first thing I learned about Tom was that he was smarter than me. Learned that right away when I met him. And not just book smart, but wise to the world smart. He knew things that I hadn’t ever thought about. Heck, still haven’t thought about them. He opened my eyes to many things beyond which I was aware.
9. Even smart people can be wrong. See Tom’s thoughts on the Hawkeyes vs. the Cyclones. Go CLONES!
8. I learned a lot about music. I have always considered myself a music geek, but learned about a lot of good music through Tom. Joe Walsh/James Gang, Creedence, Cougar, Jackson Browne, etc.
7. Treat people right. I think he learned this from his parents. Tommy has always been good to people. I really don’t remember him ever treating anyone badly. Unless they deserved it of course. But, in general, Tom is very thoughtful, caring and interested in others. Sounds like that continued into his career, which is a wonderful thing.
6. Let’s just say that Tommy “improved” my drinking skills. He also taught me to like beer - the hard way (we got way too drunk on vodka and I have never felt worse the next day). Don’t drink before a Physics final with Tom – he will pass and you will not.
5. Humor. Tom is funny as all get out. I still have multiple letters that I received from Tom during our college years, before the Internet made writing physical letters on paper a thing of the past. I still get them out every once in a while and read them. Sarcastic, cynical, whatever. Laughing is a good thing and Tom always makes me laugh.
4. The importance of good conversation. Tom is always ready for a good conversation. This is probably connected to #6 above. I don’t believe I am a very good conversationalist, but with the right people and the right topic, I can get going. I need to get better at this, because as Tom has shown me, there is a lot to learn from others, just by joining them in conversation.
3. Surround yourself with good people. Tom has been lucky like a lot of us to be born into a good family. But he also surrounded himself with good people who he calls friends. Then he met Melissa and realized he had another good person that he needed in his life. I am also lucky to have a good people in my life (especially my wife) and am very thankful for it.
2. There is always time to say hello (again). I spent a decent amount of time hanging out with Tommy in high school and somewhat kept in touch in college. From there, we lost touch as friends do. I hadn’t seen Tom in a long while and then talked to him at our 20th year high school reunion. Since then, I have been back in contact with Tom, trading emails and CDs. It has been great as I always enjoy his company. You can always say hello to a friend, no matter how long it has been since you last talked.
1. New things right up until today. From this blog alone, perseverance & inner strength. To enjoy life. To love the people in your life with all your heart. The importance of making a positive difference in people’s lives. To “shock” people by using common courtesy. Be thankful for the small things and don’t forget to read the bible.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to You…..
Today is THE day of TOM (Golden Boy)…..since I met Tom almost 18 years ago, the month of May has always been about him!! TOM, TOM, TOM.
Tom has always loved his birthday month and makes no bones about it. Even our boys think that the month of May is all about him. Forget Mother’s Day, that is just another obstacle in the way of celebrating his day! (For those that may think that this is insensitive, to date I have always been treated like a queen on Mother’s Day by all my boys!)
Recently, Tom wrote about the changes he has gone through with “The Cancer” and even though he has had these changes, his vitality, spirit and strength still go on. “The Cancer” has literally knocked both of us on our butts and to be perfectly honest, many times Tom gets up before me after another blow. This man whom I have been blessed with is charged with so much strength, he has shared his strength with many of us.
Today, we celebrate you Tom and all that you mean to us. You are such a great influence for our boys. They are becoming strong, caring little men who have learned early the importance of family, love, prayer and friendships. For the rest of us, you have been a great listener, drinking buddy and an advisor about life and keeping things in perspective.
We celebrate that you are still here with us and that each day with you is a gift. From here on out, our motto is 3 days at a time, and I will along with many others are going to make the most of each of those 3 days at a time with you.
“TODAY is your day, today is about you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you”
Dr. Seuss, The Birthday Book
All my love,
Melissa
Tom has always loved his birthday month and makes no bones about it. Even our boys think that the month of May is all about him. Forget Mother’s Day, that is just another obstacle in the way of celebrating his day! (For those that may think that this is insensitive, to date I have always been treated like a queen on Mother’s Day by all my boys!)
Recently, Tom wrote about the changes he has gone through with “The Cancer” and even though he has had these changes, his vitality, spirit and strength still go on. “The Cancer” has literally knocked both of us on our butts and to be perfectly honest, many times Tom gets up before me after another blow. This man whom I have been blessed with is charged with so much strength, he has shared his strength with many of us.
Today, we celebrate you Tom and all that you mean to us. You are such a great influence for our boys. They are becoming strong, caring little men who have learned early the importance of family, love, prayer and friendships. For the rest of us, you have been a great listener, drinking buddy and an advisor about life and keeping things in perspective.
We celebrate that you are still here with us and that each day with you is a gift. From here on out, our motto is 3 days at a time, and I will along with many others are going to make the most of each of those 3 days at a time with you.
“TODAY is your day, today is about you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you”
Dr. Seuss, The Birthday Book
All my love,
Melissa
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Shelter from the Storm
'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood,
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud;
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
Come in, she said, I'll give you
Shelter from the storm.
* * *
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail;
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
Come in, she said, I'll give you
Shelter from the storm.
--Bob Dylan, "Shelter from the Storm" from Blood On the Tracks (1974).
I think, therefore I am.
--Rene Descartes, Le Discours de la Methode, pt 4 (1637).
I think I am, therefore..?
--Me ( 2007)
I've had my head cracked open and half of a baseball sized tumor removed. 31 fractions of "targeted" brain radiation. Brain chemotherapy with Temodar. 37 fractions of radiation for the lung tumor. Carboplatin and Taxol chemotherapy. Stereotactic radiosurgery for brain metastases. A second stereotactic radiosurgery for new brain metastases.
It's all taken quite a mental toll. I'm not talking about psychologically, although all of the treatment does exact a toll in that manner, too. I am talking about physical, structural changes to the brain. While the cancer researchers and companies that employ and/or finance them, are always quick to trumpet the latest "breakthrough" treatment which generally involves squeezing a couple more weeks (and occasionally, a month or two) of life out of us, there is almost never any talk about the mental deterioration that takes place with the "treatment advances."
If you have time, take a look at the letters that go with this link on Leroy Seivers' cancer blog on the National Public Radio site dated 5/1/07:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/2007/05/why_is_cancer_news.html#commentSection
I've experienced nearly every type of instance mentioned in the letters that accompany that blog. I've come home with milk from the store and immediately put in in the cupboards with the dishes. I've gone to the grocery store intending to purchase one specific item, ended up coming home with two or three bags full of groceries, but still missing the item I went to the store for in the first place on several occasions. Forgetting what I went out to the kitchen to get, and returning to the family three or four times in a row before finally being able to get whatever I had intended to get, and sitting back down with the item in my possession. Short term memory seems most severely affected. Long term memory hasn't really been affected. I remember telephone numbers that people had 20 years ago, but can't remember details of conversations that I had yesterday. Names, even with people I've known for years, are sometimes impossible.
Everyday objects are sometimes the toughest to remember. Give me one of those things you put the coffee in (mug). Losing your train of thought in mid-sentence. I used to know all twenty-nine exceptions to the hearsay rule. Now, don't even bother asking me .
I used to know the artist for every one hit or two hit wonder band from the 60's, 70's and 80's (e.g. "Car Wash"--Rose Royce (1976)). "The Night Chicago Died"--Paper Lace, (1974). I remember one time sitting with my friend Bruce and Melissa in a bar in Omaha, and they had a D.J. giving away free beer and t-shirts and other assorted crap for people who could name the title of the "obscure" songs he was playing. I was not only naming the songs, but naming the band, the year, the album and really pissing the the D.J. off until he decided our table couldn't win anymore. (the three of us had several t-shirts and about six pitchers of beer on table at that point). So I started feeding answers to the other tables near us. I think the game ended a little earlier that night than it usually did. I wasn't trying to show off (well, maybe a little :-)) ; it was just something I knew.
Now, I usually have to look the stuff up on the Internet if I want to find it. And still, that doesn't always work. People (especially Melissa ) used to be able to ask me what song is "Da na na, Duh na na" and I could say, "You Dropped a Bomb on Me", The Gap Band, (1980), " no problem. I can't really do that anymore.
As one of the letters to the NPR blog says "My mind used to be a steel trap. Now it's a colander." An extremely apt description, unfortunately. Sometimes my mind can find a circuitous route and come up with the correct answer; other times, it tries to make the direct leap across the colander, and the information goes down the hole like so much water. Another person commented that we need to stop giving these conditions such silly names like "chemo brain" and "radiation fog", so doctors, researchers, and others take these things seriously. I agree wholeheartedly.
Now, what in the hell did I just agree to?
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud;
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
Come in, she said, I'll give you
Shelter from the storm.
* * *
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail;
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
Come in, she said, I'll give you
Shelter from the storm.
--Bob Dylan, "Shelter from the Storm" from Blood On the Tracks (1974).
I think, therefore I am.
--Rene Descartes, Le Discours de la Methode, pt 4 (1637).
I think I am, therefore..?
--Me ( 2007)
I've had my head cracked open and half of a baseball sized tumor removed. 31 fractions of "targeted" brain radiation. Brain chemotherapy with Temodar. 37 fractions of radiation for the lung tumor. Carboplatin and Taxol chemotherapy. Stereotactic radiosurgery for brain metastases. A second stereotactic radiosurgery for new brain metastases.
It's all taken quite a mental toll. I'm not talking about psychologically, although all of the treatment does exact a toll in that manner, too. I am talking about physical, structural changes to the brain. While the cancer researchers and companies that employ and/or finance them, are always quick to trumpet the latest "breakthrough" treatment which generally involves squeezing a couple more weeks (and occasionally, a month or two) of life out of us, there is almost never any talk about the mental deterioration that takes place with the "treatment advances."
If you have time, take a look at the letters that go with this link on Leroy Seivers' cancer blog on the National Public Radio site dated 5/1/07:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/2007/05/why_is_cancer_news.html#commentSection
I've experienced nearly every type of instance mentioned in the letters that accompany that blog. I've come home with milk from the store and immediately put in in the cupboards with the dishes. I've gone to the grocery store intending to purchase one specific item, ended up coming home with two or three bags full of groceries, but still missing the item I went to the store for in the first place on several occasions. Forgetting what I went out to the kitchen to get, and returning to the family three or four times in a row before finally being able to get whatever I had intended to get, and sitting back down with the item in my possession. Short term memory seems most severely affected. Long term memory hasn't really been affected. I remember telephone numbers that people had 20 years ago, but can't remember details of conversations that I had yesterday. Names, even with people I've known for years, are sometimes impossible.
Everyday objects are sometimes the toughest to remember. Give me one of those things you put the coffee in (mug). Losing your train of thought in mid-sentence. I used to know all twenty-nine exceptions to the hearsay rule. Now, don't even bother asking me .
I used to know the artist for every one hit or two hit wonder band from the 60's, 70's and 80's (e.g. "Car Wash"--Rose Royce (1976)). "The Night Chicago Died"--Paper Lace, (1974). I remember one time sitting with my friend Bruce and Melissa in a bar in Omaha, and they had a D.J. giving away free beer and t-shirts and other assorted crap for people who could name the title of the "obscure" songs he was playing. I was not only naming the songs, but naming the band, the year, the album and really pissing the the D.J. off until he decided our table couldn't win anymore. (the three of us had several t-shirts and about six pitchers of beer on table at that point). So I started feeding answers to the other tables near us. I think the game ended a little earlier that night than it usually did. I wasn't trying to show off (well, maybe a little :-)) ; it was just something I knew.
Now, I usually have to look the stuff up on the Internet if I want to find it. And still, that doesn't always work. People (especially Melissa ) used to be able to ask me what song is "Da na na, Duh na na" and I could say, "You Dropped a Bomb on Me", The Gap Band, (1980), " no problem. I can't really do that anymore.
As one of the letters to the NPR blog says "My mind used to be a steel trap. Now it's a colander." An extremely apt description, unfortunately. Sometimes my mind can find a circuitous route and come up with the correct answer; other times, it tries to make the direct leap across the colander, and the information goes down the hole like so much water. Another person commented that we need to stop giving these conditions such silly names like "chemo brain" and "radiation fog", so doctors, researchers, and others take these things seriously. I agree wholeheartedly.
Now, what in the hell did I just agree to?
Friday, May 18, 2007
Mom Does Blog
A Special Guest Author today. Someone Near and Dear to my Heart: Mom.
I went sky divin'
I went Rocky Mountain climbin'
I went 2 point 7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter
And I watched an Eagle as it was flying;
And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To Live Like You Were Dyin’
Chorus , Live like You Were Dyin’ -- Tim McGraw
One of the interesting threads running through cancer blogs is “what would you do if you only had [insert number] months to live?” Since Tom was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I’ve noticed how often brain tumors occur in novels, TV dramas, soap operas, and movies--way out of proportion to the relatively rare occurrence in real life. I call it “brain tumor as literary device.” Those of us who haven’t faced x-rays and scans predicting our demise usually say that the first thing we’d do is quit out job.
Aaron [Pollack (of "Where's My p53" fame)] , however, chose to continue working as long as he can because he believes so strongly in what he’s doing. I admire that. Tom wanted to take some trips. He has had some wonderful experiences in the last few months: the baseball tour with his Dad and Joe; a Notre Dame game with Bruce and Joe; Palm Springs with all the Melleckers, and of course, Ireland. But these days, the things that seem so sweet to our family are the ordinary moments: the boys’ baseball games, sitting together on the patio in the evening, Jack climbing on Tom’s lap, eating pizza, having a beer, talking about Steph’s wedding. The only good thing that I can see about terminal cancer is that it reminds you to do some things you‘ve always wanted to do, and to “talk sweeter’ and “love deeper". And, guess what? We all have the chance to live like we were dying.
I went sky divin'
I went Rocky Mountain climbin'
I went 2 point 7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
And I loved deeper,
And I spoke sweeter
And I watched an Eagle as it was flying;
And he said someday I hope you get the chance,
To Live Like You Were Dyin’
Chorus , Live like You Were Dyin’ -- Tim McGraw
One of the interesting threads running through cancer blogs is “what would you do if you only had [insert number] months to live?” Since Tom was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I’ve noticed how often brain tumors occur in novels, TV dramas, soap operas, and movies--way out of proportion to the relatively rare occurrence in real life. I call it “brain tumor as literary device.” Those of us who haven’t faced x-rays and scans predicting our demise usually say that the first thing we’d do is quit out job.
Aaron [Pollack (of "Where's My p53" fame)] , however, chose to continue working as long as he can because he believes so strongly in what he’s doing. I admire that. Tom wanted to take some trips. He has had some wonderful experiences in the last few months: the baseball tour with his Dad and Joe; a Notre Dame game with Bruce and Joe; Palm Springs with all the Melleckers, and of course, Ireland. But these days, the things that seem so sweet to our family are the ordinary moments: the boys’ baseball games, sitting together on the patio in the evening, Jack climbing on Tom’s lap, eating pizza, having a beer, talking about Steph’s wedding. The only good thing that I can see about terminal cancer is that it reminds you to do some things you‘ve always wanted to do, and to “talk sweeter’ and “love deeper". And, guess what? We all have the chance to live like we were dying.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Wild Eyed Liberals. . .
. . . and Stem Cell Research
Here's an Interview from May 3, 2007, with that well known liberal, Orrin Hatch, sent to Congress by all the radicals in Utah. From that publication with a well known liberal slant, The New England Journal of Medicine:
http://content.nejm.org/cgi/reprint/356/18/e18.pdf
Here's a link to the audio interview:
http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/NEJMp078082/DC1
And no, I'm not dropping this until our government is supporting stem cell research. It is not a religious issue, or a moral issue, it is a right versus wrong issue. Please read and/or listen.
Tom
Here's an Interview from May 3, 2007, with that well known liberal, Orrin Hatch, sent to Congress by all the radicals in Utah. From that publication with a well known liberal slant, The New England Journal of Medicine:
http://content.nejm.org/cgi/reprint/356/18/e18.pdf
Here's a link to the audio interview:
http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/NEJMp078082/DC1
And no, I'm not dropping this until our government is supporting stem cell research. It is not a religious issue, or a moral issue, it is a right versus wrong issue. Please read and/or listen.
Tom
Thursday, May 10, 2007
One Year Out
He said I was in my early 40's,
With a lot of life before me,
And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
I spent most of the next days, lookin' at the x-rays,
Talkin' 'bout the options and talkin' 'bout sweet time.
Asked him when it sank in, that this might really be the real end.
How's it hit ya, when you get that kind of news.
Man what ya do.
--Tim McGraw, Live Like You Were Dyin'
"Ninety percent I'll spend on good times, women and Irish Whiskey. The other ten percent I'll probably waste."
--Tug McGraw (Tim's father), after signing a $400,000.00 free agency contract, circa 1976.
Well the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star get the show on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
--Smash Mouth, "All Star"
365 days under my belt. Since what? Since the diagnoses of lung cancer on May 10, 2006.
To refresh a few of you who have been around since the beginning (and to inform many of those who have not), I was first diagnosed with oligodendroglioma (brain cancer) in late 2002. It is technically not cancer, because it doesn't spread, the problem is that the skull is of limited size, and the "benign" tumor begins pushing the brain into the hard skull, and that causes all sorts of mean and nasty problems. So I had surgery, and my surgeon was able to remove about half of the baseball (6cm *5cm *4cm) sized tumor. The rest had to stay because of its location along the motor strip, which controls the body's ability to speak, and move, etc.
I was encouraged by the radiation oncologists to have the remainder radiated. My surgeon was non-committal. After much research and soul searching, I decided to defer radiation. This is because there is a problem that they have given the rather innocuous sounding name "delayed radiation necrosis" . This essentially means that the radiation itself as opposed to the cancer, rots your brain and kills you. These problems don't show up until 7-10 years down the road, which didn't used to be a problem, because they really weren't able to identify cancer soon enough (i.e. before stage IV) to do much good. Find the cancer radiate, and 9 months later you were dead. Thanks to advances in knowledge, imaging equipment, etc., this is no longer the case. They discovered mine at Stage II(C) maybe early stage III, so I had a decision to make. The radiation oncologists all say, well, we're targeting radiation now, but when you ask them to point you to a study (from any country), and they can't. So I deferred, and we monitored the brain with MRI's and the occasional CAT scan for the next 3 years or so. In late 2005, we were informed that the tumor was growing and it was time to radiate.
I underwent 37 (38?) fractions between January and March 2006, and then started on an oral chemotherapy pill (Temodar) after that. I wasn't doing too bad at this point. Hell, my life expectancy was still between 2013 and 2016, and who knew what scientists might be able to come up with by then?
I had this cough I couldn't shake throughout April, and Melissa insisted that we get it checked out. She thought I had walking pneumonia or something. Isn't that just like women??!! Well, as she was right as it turned out . Lung Cancer. Stage IIIB, maybe stage IV. The hits kept coming. Inoperable. Life expectancy of 12 -18 months. 31 more fractions of radiation. Chemotherapy. when you get down to being a short timer, like I am now, I didn't hear the 12 months part, only the 18 months. I figured, well , so be it, November, 2007. So in June 2006, I took a leave for disability from my job.
Still, after 69 fractions of radiation, and a couple of rounds of chemotherapy, the hits just kept on coming. January 8, 2007, learned of brain cancer metastases. Stereotactic radiation surgery. New drop dead date of July 9, 2007.
And the hits are still coming. May 4, 2007. New metastases. May 8, 2007. Another stereotactic radiosurgery. And here I am. I've still have my friends, my family, my boys, and best of all, Melissa. 60 days. Bet the over. I am alive and kicking.
What you gonna do when things go wrong?
What you gonna do when it all cracks up?
What you gonna do when the Love burns down?
What you gonna do when the flames go up?
Who is gonna come and turn the tide?
What's it gonna take to make a dream survive?
Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside?
Don't say goodbye
Don't say goodbye
In the final seconds who's gonna save you?
Oh, Alive and Kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, Alive and Kicking
Oh, Alive and Kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, Alive and Kicking
--Simple Minds, "Alive and Kicking" (1985)
With a lot of life before me,
And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
I spent most of the next days, lookin' at the x-rays,
Talkin' 'bout the options and talkin' 'bout sweet time.
Asked him when it sank in, that this might really be the real end.
How's it hit ya, when you get that kind of news.
Man what ya do.
--Tim McGraw, Live Like You Were Dyin'
"Ninety percent I'll spend on good times, women and Irish Whiskey. The other ten percent I'll probably waste."
--Tug McGraw (Tim's father), after signing a $400,000.00 free agency contract, circa 1976.
Well the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star get the show on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
--Smash Mouth, "All Star"
365 days under my belt. Since what? Since the diagnoses of lung cancer on May 10, 2006.
To refresh a few of you who have been around since the beginning (and to inform many of those who have not), I was first diagnosed with oligodendroglioma (brain cancer) in late 2002. It is technically not cancer, because it doesn't spread, the problem is that the skull is of limited size, and the "benign" tumor begins pushing the brain into the hard skull, and that causes all sorts of mean and nasty problems. So I had surgery, and my surgeon was able to remove about half of the baseball (6cm *5cm *4cm) sized tumor. The rest had to stay because of its location along the motor strip, which controls the body's ability to speak, and move, etc.
I was encouraged by the radiation oncologists to have the remainder radiated. My surgeon was non-committal. After much research and soul searching, I decided to defer radiation. This is because there is a problem that they have given the rather innocuous sounding name "delayed radiation necrosis" . This essentially means that the radiation itself as opposed to the cancer, rots your brain and kills you. These problems don't show up until 7-10 years down the road, which didn't used to be a problem, because they really weren't able to identify cancer soon enough (i.e. before stage IV) to do much good. Find the cancer radiate, and 9 months later you were dead. Thanks to advances in knowledge, imaging equipment, etc., this is no longer the case. They discovered mine at Stage II(C) maybe early stage III, so I had a decision to make. The radiation oncologists all say, well, we're targeting radiation now, but when you ask them to point you to a study (from any country), and they can't. So I deferred, and we monitored the brain with MRI's and the occasional CAT scan for the next 3 years or so. In late 2005, we were informed that the tumor was growing and it was time to radiate.
I underwent 37 (38?) fractions between January and March 2006, and then started on an oral chemotherapy pill (Temodar) after that. I wasn't doing too bad at this point. Hell, my life expectancy was still between 2013 and 2016, and who knew what scientists might be able to come up with by then?
I had this cough I couldn't shake throughout April, and Melissa insisted that we get it checked out. She thought I had walking pneumonia or something. Isn't that just like women??!! Well, as she was right as it turned out . Lung Cancer. Stage IIIB, maybe stage IV. The hits kept coming. Inoperable. Life expectancy of 12 -18 months. 31 more fractions of radiation. Chemotherapy. when you get down to being a short timer, like I am now, I didn't hear the 12 months part, only the 18 months. I figured, well , so be it, November, 2007. So in June 2006, I took a leave for disability from my job.
Still, after 69 fractions of radiation, and a couple of rounds of chemotherapy, the hits just kept on coming. January 8, 2007, learned of brain cancer metastases. Stereotactic radiation surgery. New drop dead date of July 9, 2007.
And the hits are still coming. May 4, 2007. New metastases. May 8, 2007. Another stereotactic radiosurgery. And here I am. I've still have my friends, my family, my boys, and best of all, Melissa. 60 days. Bet the over. I am alive and kicking.
What you gonna do when things go wrong?
What you gonna do when it all cracks up?
What you gonna do when the Love burns down?
What you gonna do when the flames go up?
Who is gonna come and turn the tide?
What's it gonna take to make a dream survive?
Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside?
Don't say goodbye
Don't say goodbye
In the final seconds who's gonna save you?
Oh, Alive and Kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, Alive and Kicking
Oh, Alive and Kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, Alive and Kicking
--Simple Minds, "Alive and Kicking" (1985)
Monday, May 07, 2007
Misc. Thoughts on Ireland
I'm going in tomorrow for radiation to zap the brain mets. Here's the last post on Ireland, at least until I get something from Ben and Wendy on the "International Jam Incident."
I think the problem with Ireland is that they're just not quite used to the hospitality industry. The owners of the B&B's place too much emphasis on the breakfast part of the deal, and not enough on the room.
First off, I understand it's the off season and maybe some places need a fresh coat of paint, or holes in the wall need filling, or the towels are raggedy or whatever. We don't care about any of that. I could care less about t.v., too, though one seemed to be included in every room we stayed in. But really, there's no excuse for light bulbs that are burned out and not replaced, door handles that don't work (Melissa almost was trapped in a bathroom because the door handle literally came off in her hand), mirrors falling off walls, and "complimentary" coffee (that instant Nescafe crap) where only the decaf got refilled.
Speaking of coffee, what is with the three foot cords to the little pots to boil water in? There's no where to plug them in? We literally ended up holding the pot while the water boiled because there was no where to set it (The plug outlet was too high on the wall to set it on the floor). Spend 20 Euro's on a Mr. Coffee, provide real coffee, and charge me 5 Euros more for the room.
Those torture devices they call water saving devices in the showers ought to be used against suspected terrorists at Abu Garhib. They have these nasty little boxes that spout out freezing cold water to start with. You can't really wait outside the shower for it to get better, because most of these "bathrooms" with 3/4 baths were literally built in the closets of the homes. Because of the way the shower door opens you are forced to stay inside or you will flood the floor. Inevitably, you overcorrect and it immediately goes to scalding hot. Then you end up punching the control buttons to turn down the heat on on this evil little control box and the water immediately goes to freezing. And so it goes back and forth. What we eventually discovered was the if you touch the box even once, it starts back over at freezing cold. The guy that invented this "water saving device" ought to have his ass kicked. On the other hand, you always could tell who was awake and getting ready for breakfast from the screams of "Shit! Fuck! and Goddammit!" coming from the rooms.
Finally, what's with the hide the hairdryer game? All of the people at the B&B's and hotels acted either annoyed and or surprised that we couldn't find the hairdryer in the room. No, we didn't expect to find the hairdryer in whatever dresser drawer you hid the hairdryer in. We expected to find it near a mirror, or at least near an outlet.
The following comments apply both to the hotels and to B&B's.
1. Breakfast. We can accept that things are out of season. Do not ever, ever, feed me canned fruit on your "fresh fruit" buffet.
2. Can't anyone make eggs over easy? If you don't know how, or refuse to serve them that way for some reason, let me know and I'll get something else. Only three places (out of 8) could make an egg over easy (the rest were over hard).
3. Ditto coffee, with the hotels, oddly enough, being the worst offenders.
4. What's with trying to pass off two super single mattresses as a king size??!! It's the hotels, too! There's a real opportunity here for a mattress company to move in and make a pile of money.
Good things.
1. The people. You will not meet nicer people in you lifetime.
2. The scenery. It's not as good as you've heard. It's better.
3.The pubs. I didn't really identify what it was (besides the fresh Guinness) that made Irish pubs better than American bars. It's not the music. Frankly, although it's something different, the novelty wears off rather quickly for me. After about my sixth Guinness one night, I discovered what it was. No television. Oh they all have one, but the only time it's on is for a national rugby or soccer match, and for the national news for half an hour in the early evening. What a novel idea! When the Irish talk about going to the pub for the craic (conversation), it's because they can. We need some places like that here in the States. By the way, don't miss:
a. Morrissey's
b. Davey Byrne's
c.The South Pole Inn
d.Foxy John's
e. Jack C's
f. The Brazen Head
4. The food. No, I'm not joking. Along the southwest and western borders, the seafood is especially good. The beef isn't bad and people on the east coast in the U.S. would consider it to be very good. The problem is that we're from Iowa, and all of our cattle is corn fed. It is the best in the world.
5. Bed and Breakfasts. Don't Miss:
(1) The Marless House, Galway, Co. Galway. The nicest hosts you could ever have, American controls on the shower, good breakfast, a hop, skip and a jump from the downtown action. Best of the lot.
(2) Walsh's Townhouse B&B, Dingle, Co. Kerry. Very friendly hosts, knew how to cook an egg over easy, good coffee (which made up for the canned pineapple), Americanized controls on the shower, right in the heart of Downtown, conveniently across the street from a fine pub.
(3) Palm Lodge, Mitchelstown, Co. Cork. Friendly service, the best coffee of any of the places we stayed in Ireland (fancy hotels included), wool blankets on the beds, and delivery service to church. Made up for the unspeakable watersaving box on the shower, which was the first (but unfortunately not the last) we encountered on our journey.
Bad things.
1. Tourist towns. Overpriced, bad service, and many shops, restaurants and pubs closed down during offseason, presumably because they make so much money during the high season. These towns were really the only places where we encountered rude people in Ireland.
2. Skip the following B&B's:
(1)Rockcrest House. Kenmare, Co. Kerry.
(2)Ashgrove, Kinsale, Co. Cork.
All in all, one of the best vacations I've ever taken. See the April 24, 2007 blog entry for my advice on travel agents and transportation.
I think the problem with Ireland is that they're just not quite used to the hospitality industry. The owners of the B&B's place too much emphasis on the breakfast part of the deal, and not enough on the room.
First off, I understand it's the off season and maybe some places need a fresh coat of paint, or holes in the wall need filling, or the towels are raggedy or whatever. We don't care about any of that. I could care less about t.v., too, though one seemed to be included in every room we stayed in. But really, there's no excuse for light bulbs that are burned out and not replaced, door handles that don't work (Melissa almost was trapped in a bathroom because the door handle literally came off in her hand), mirrors falling off walls, and "complimentary" coffee (that instant Nescafe crap) where only the decaf got refilled.
Speaking of coffee, what is with the three foot cords to the little pots to boil water in? There's no where to plug them in? We literally ended up holding the pot while the water boiled because there was no where to set it (The plug outlet was too high on the wall to set it on the floor). Spend 20 Euro's on a Mr. Coffee, provide real coffee, and charge me 5 Euros more for the room.
Those torture devices they call water saving devices in the showers ought to be used against suspected terrorists at Abu Garhib. They have these nasty little boxes that spout out freezing cold water to start with. You can't really wait outside the shower for it to get better, because most of these "bathrooms" with 3/4 baths were literally built in the closets of the homes. Because of the way the shower door opens you are forced to stay inside or you will flood the floor. Inevitably, you overcorrect and it immediately goes to scalding hot. Then you end up punching the control buttons to turn down the heat on on this evil little control box and the water immediately goes to freezing. And so it goes back and forth. What we eventually discovered was the if you touch the box even once, it starts back over at freezing cold. The guy that invented this "water saving device" ought to have his ass kicked. On the other hand, you always could tell who was awake and getting ready for breakfast from the screams of "Shit! Fuck! and Goddammit!" coming from the rooms.
Finally, what's with the hide the hairdryer game? All of the people at the B&B's and hotels acted either annoyed and or surprised that we couldn't find the hairdryer in the room. No, we didn't expect to find the hairdryer in whatever dresser drawer you hid the hairdryer in. We expected to find it near a mirror, or at least near an outlet.
The following comments apply both to the hotels and to B&B's.
1. Breakfast. We can accept that things are out of season. Do not ever, ever, feed me canned fruit on your "fresh fruit" buffet.
2. Can't anyone make eggs over easy? If you don't know how, or refuse to serve them that way for some reason, let me know and I'll get something else. Only three places (out of 8) could make an egg over easy (the rest were over hard).
3. Ditto coffee, with the hotels, oddly enough, being the worst offenders.
4. What's with trying to pass off two super single mattresses as a king size??!! It's the hotels, too! There's a real opportunity here for a mattress company to move in and make a pile of money.
Good things.
1. The people. You will not meet nicer people in you lifetime.
2. The scenery. It's not as good as you've heard. It's better.
3.The pubs. I didn't really identify what it was (besides the fresh Guinness) that made Irish pubs better than American bars. It's not the music. Frankly, although it's something different, the novelty wears off rather quickly for me. After about my sixth Guinness one night, I discovered what it was. No television. Oh they all have one, but the only time it's on is for a national rugby or soccer match, and for the national news for half an hour in the early evening. What a novel idea! When the Irish talk about going to the pub for the craic (conversation), it's because they can. We need some places like that here in the States. By the way, don't miss:
a. Morrissey's
b. Davey Byrne's
c.The South Pole Inn
d.Foxy John's
e. Jack C's
f. The Brazen Head
4. The food. No, I'm not joking. Along the southwest and western borders, the seafood is especially good. The beef isn't bad and people on the east coast in the U.S. would consider it to be very good. The problem is that we're from Iowa, and all of our cattle is corn fed. It is the best in the world.
5. Bed and Breakfasts. Don't Miss:
(1) The Marless House, Galway, Co. Galway. The nicest hosts you could ever have, American controls on the shower, good breakfast, a hop, skip and a jump from the downtown action. Best of the lot.
(2) Walsh's Townhouse B&B, Dingle, Co. Kerry. Very friendly hosts, knew how to cook an egg over easy, good coffee (which made up for the canned pineapple), Americanized controls on the shower, right in the heart of Downtown, conveniently across the street from a fine pub.
(3) Palm Lodge, Mitchelstown, Co. Cork. Friendly service, the best coffee of any of the places we stayed in Ireland (fancy hotels included), wool blankets on the beds, and delivery service to church. Made up for the unspeakable watersaving box on the shower, which was the first (but unfortunately not the last) we encountered on our journey.
Bad things.
1. Tourist towns. Overpriced, bad service, and many shops, restaurants and pubs closed down during offseason, presumably because they make so much money during the high season. These towns were really the only places where we encountered rude people in Ireland.
2. Skip the following B&B's:
(1)Rockcrest House. Kenmare, Co. Kerry.
(2)Ashgrove, Kinsale, Co. Cork.
All in all, one of the best vacations I've ever taken. See the April 24, 2007 blog entry for my advice on travel agents and transportation.
Friday, May 04, 2007
"He's got high hopes. . ."
. . .He's got high hopes,
1960 is the year for his high hopes.
So go on and vote for Kennedy,
vote for Kennedy,
vote for Kennedy, Jack;
'cause Jack is on the right track.
--1960 Kennedy Campaign Song, sung to the tune of "High Hopes"
Rusty Dennis: First you told me he was gonna be retarded, then you told me he was gonna be blind AND deaf. If I'd dug his grave every time one of you geniuses told me he was gonna die, I'd be eating fuckin' chop suey in China by now!
--The Mask (starring Cher, not Jim Carrey), 1985
Rocky Dennis: What's his problem, Ma?
Rusty Dennis: Nothing. He's just another asshole. You let that negative dreck in and it'll put ya away. You can be a chicken shit and die or be a mensch and keep makin' yourself well.
--The Mask, 1985
I think Nixon's Campaign song was "Crazy Train", by Ozzy Osbourne. No wait; 1960 was be before he started howling at the moon in public--It must have been "Mack The Knife."
Anyway, that's a conversation for another time. I'm getting fitted for the mask today, and we're scheduled for stereotactic brain surgery (again) next Tuesday. This is the same semi-humane procedure I did back in mid- January. Obviously, the MRI last Friday did not bring good news. A pile of new tumors showed up on the MRI--we're going to try to zap the biggest six. I think Melissa was crushed by the bad news; I was saddened, but pretty much expected the bad news. At this point, we (the cancer-ridden people) pretty much know what our bodies are telling us better than anyone else including the doctors, and mine hasn't been whispering sweet nothings to me.
I have high hopes about the surgery. Not as high as Kennedy, mind you; he was hoping for 4-8 years; I'm hoping for another 4-8 months. See my little sister get married, see both boys play a little football this fall, celebrate one more anniversary with my wife, and watch the Hawks kick the shit out of the Cyclones one last time---maybe then I'll be "ready" (or as ready as I'm going to be) to move onward and upward.
For my birthday, Melissa got tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld for tonight, and I'm really looking forward to it.
1960 is the year for his high hopes.
So go on and vote for Kennedy,
vote for Kennedy,
vote for Kennedy, Jack;
'cause Jack is on the right track.
--1960 Kennedy Campaign Song, sung to the tune of "High Hopes"
Rusty Dennis: First you told me he was gonna be retarded, then you told me he was gonna be blind AND deaf. If I'd dug his grave every time one of you geniuses told me he was gonna die, I'd be eating fuckin' chop suey in China by now!
--The Mask (starring Cher, not Jim Carrey), 1985
Rocky Dennis: What's his problem, Ma?
Rusty Dennis: Nothing. He's just another asshole. You let that negative dreck in and it'll put ya away. You can be a chicken shit and die or be a mensch and keep makin' yourself well.
--The Mask, 1985
I think Nixon's Campaign song was "Crazy Train", by Ozzy Osbourne. No wait; 1960 was be before he started howling at the moon in public--It must have been "Mack The Knife."
Anyway, that's a conversation for another time. I'm getting fitted for the mask today, and we're scheduled for stereotactic brain surgery (again) next Tuesday. This is the same semi-humane procedure I did back in mid- January. Obviously, the MRI last Friday did not bring good news. A pile of new tumors showed up on the MRI--we're going to try to zap the biggest six. I think Melissa was crushed by the bad news; I was saddened, but pretty much expected the bad news. At this point, we (the cancer-ridden people) pretty much know what our bodies are telling us better than anyone else including the doctors, and mine hasn't been whispering sweet nothings to me.
I have high hopes about the surgery. Not as high as Kennedy, mind you; he was hoping for 4-8 years; I'm hoping for another 4-8 months. See my little sister get married, see both boys play a little football this fall, celebrate one more anniversary with my wife, and watch the Hawks kick the shit out of the Cyclones one last time---maybe then I'll be "ready" (or as ready as I'm going to be) to move onward and upward.
For my birthday, Melissa got tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld for tonight, and I'm really looking forward to it.
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