My Cancer Story

Thomas James Clarke, Jr.

2007-11-10T16:22:00.001-06:00

May 22,1968- November 10,2007.

Thank you for all of your support, thoughts and prayers.

2007-10-18T16:19:00.000-05:00

October 18,2007

Hello,

We would like to thank so many of you for all of your wonderful emails filled with thoughts and prayers. Many of you have asked for updates.

Tom is still fighting, with everything else working against him, his 39 year old heart keeps him here with us. Our Dr. has been there every step of the way trying to keep him comfortable however as she said there is only so much we can do.

I do read any email correspondence to him, so please feel free to email any messages.

Thanks
Melissa

UPDATE ON TOM

2007-10-01T12:55:00.000-05:00

Hello Everyone,

This is to update you on Tom's condition. On Sept. 22 he was re-admitted into hospice. He currently sleeping most of the days, he has lost use of his legs due to disease progression into the bones which we found out a couple of weeks ago. Plus various other issues. Our Dr. has told us we have days, however Tom's age and his heart are keeping him here with us so we really don't know.

The times when Tom is awake, vary from inability to communicate to a classic Tom Clarke comments/joke.

We appreciate everyone's thoughts and prayers.

Thank you,
Melissa

Not Dying Fast Enough

2007-08-23T07:57:00.000-05:00

Well, I went to the doctor I said, "I'm feeling kind of rough"
He said, "Let me break it to you, son",
Your shit's fucked up."
I said, "my shit's fucked up?" Well, I don't see how--"
He said, "The shit that used to work-- It won't work now."

That amazing Grace sort of passed you by.
Then you wake up Every day you and hang your head and cry.
Yeah, you wanna die , But you just can't quit
Let me break it on down,
That's some fucked up shit.

--Warren Zevon, My Shit's Fucked Up, Life'll Kill Ya, (1999)

Speaking seriously, that's what happened. Didn't die, wasn't deteriorating fast enough. If you die or seriously deteriorate within 60 days you're out. They of course didn't of spring these rules on us until about Day 56. "Look at the the time; time for you to go" as my 7 year old says.

So, I'm back at home, having a 1st floor shower installed at considerable expense which would be even more if contractor friends of ours weren't doing the labor gratis. So back and forth between home and mom and Dad's place to try to get some sleep. Now I'm using the cane quite a bit more and sleeping more. More painkillers . A total of 55 pills a day now. Still, it's a hell a better being at home than hanging out with a bunch of 85 year olds. 19 of them "passed on" while I was there. So my shit's fucked up: Just not fucked up enough for hospice.

The Worst People In the World 2007

2007-08-06T16:46:00.000-05:00

"The Lone Ranger fought for law and order in the early west. I killed morons. Still do."

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, A Memoir, Bill Bryson, page 63, (2006).

"Sue the Bastards!"

Victor J. Yannacone, Jr., Speech, East Lansing, Michigan, April 22 1970

Like Sallie Mae. And their ilk. (P.S. ---Don't you love that phrase? and their ilk?)

Student lenders are and their collectors have to be some of the lowest forms of life out there. Somewhere slightly ahead of amoebas, but definitely behind ants.

I have a loan with Sallie Mae, and have faithfully made payments for over ten years. I recently reread the the contract, and discovered that because I was disabled, my loans were to be forgiven, ad I no longer had to make payments. All I had to was send in the the paperwork, and voila! No more student loans. (They have to discharge the loans upon death of the the lendee, anyway).

So in February, shortly after being given my Last of my x months to live forecasts, I started going through my financial affairs and discovered the dischargeability of the the student loans. My oncologist quickly (within a week filled ) out the other paperwork, and I waited (The sixty days) which they are allowed to make a decision, meanwhile not making payments because I was not required to. (Now, I understand that they get to make their own independent evaluation of my condition, But when your oncologists are calling it quits, what do think the answer is going to be?) 120 days later, I started getting telephone calls demanding payment . When I explained that discharge was under consideration the person on the other end of the phone told me that decision had been made and been denied. When I inquired as to when this decision had been made, and on what basis) I couldn't get a straight answer.

Of course, you can never get an answer as to whom you are speaking to, they say tell them you spoke Bob1178K4". Yeah that's gonna get me real far when I'm trying to straighten out my credit rating or my wife's. Even the "Supervisors" don't have real names. I just tell them I can't speak to people who don't have last names , addresses or direct dial telephone numbers. When I did finally receive the letter, the claim made by Sallie Mae was that someone other than my doctor had filled out the form. I did check with my oncologist and he was pissed. He confirmed that he had filled out the form. I wrote the legal department around June 15 and indicated that if they didn't figure it out I (Or my estate would) sue if this matter was not immediately cleared up. Of course, I have not a word from them since sending the letter.

If you or your loved one (whether or not the loan was with Sallie Mae) is interested is in possibly suing these goons for breach of contract, fraud, etc. please leave a comment with an e-mail where I can get a hold of you.

Innummeracy

2007-08-01T12:26:00.000-05:00

The term "innumeracy" is one I first came about in a mathematical book by Douglas Hofstatder about twenty five years ago when I was a a kid. It was was heavy on functions and trig and calculus, so it wasn't exactly a best seller (even with such masterpieces as Jonathon Livingston Seagull topping the chart in the same time period).

The term really hasn't caught on, so maybe I had ought to claim it, popularize it, and call it my own. What the word means is that the general populace has no idea what a a number means; that is if it is significant to the discussion or issue at hand. Quick, now, is the population of the United States :

A. 30 million

B. 300 million

C. 3 billion

D. 30 billion; or

E. None of the above.

We've had about 3,700 soldiers killed in Iraq in the most recent war. Is this more than, less than, or about the same as as the number of soldiers killed in action in Vietnam?

A. Less than.
B. About the same as.
C. More than.

The most people die on an annual basis from which cause?
A. Automobile accidents.
B. Colon/rectal cancer;
C. Lung cancer;
D. Breast cancer.

I doubt you got all three right. The answers are at the bottom. But the real point of the matter is despite how many years of mathemathics and higher education you have, you really had to stop and think about those questions. even if you did get them all right, they didn't roll off your tongue, did they? I started thinking thinking about this last while watching the evening news and listen to them discuss the need for more funding for SIDS (Sudden infant Death Syndrome) because there were 2248 deaths last year, which we can all agree is about 2248 too many. On the other hand, that's two for every 1,000 live births. Cancer, on the other hand, is primarily responsible for about 200 of every 1000 deaths. Think about that for a minute. 6 million deaths every 10 years.

Total federal funding for cancer (All kinds): About $5 billion. Total federal budget for 2003: About $2.2 Trillion. Total spending on cancer as a % of outlays: about 0.5 %, some 35 years after President Nixon declared "War on Cancer."

P.S. The answers above are B, A, and C.

My Birthday

2007-07-24T09:05:00.000-05:00

The Rest Of The Night
written by Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderón, Zevon Music, (BMI)/Googolplex Music (BMI)

Why stop now? Let's party the rest of the night!

Seven o'clock, Eight o'clock, Nine o'clock. Ten

You wanna go home? Why? Honey, When?

We may never get this chance again!

Let's party for the rest of the night!

Yeah, Yeah! Oh, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!
Yeah, Yeah! Oh, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!

Why leave now? Let's party for the rest of the night!

Eleven o'clock, Twelve o'clock, One o'clock, Two

Me tired? Well boo-hoo!

I'm starting to fall in love with you

Let's party for the rest of the night!

Yeah, Yeah! Oh, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!
Yeah, Yeah! Oh. Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!

Why slow down? Let's party for the rest of the night!

Three o'clock, Four o'clock, Five o'clock, Six
Let's throw it all into the mix and open up our bag of tricks

And party for the rest of the night!

Oh, Yeah! Yeah, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!
Oh, Yeah! Yeah, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!

We never had an issue! We never had a fight!
Someone must be doing something right!

Yeah, Yeah! Oh, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!
Yeah, Yeah! Oh, Yeah! Let's party for the rest of the night!

Like my friend , Aaron, I decided I was sick about posting about cancer all off the time. 'Sides wides with all the recent excitement, I 've missed some pretty fun posts. With out further adieu (Feckin French) , I give you my 39th birthday (from May 19, 2007).
Josie, welcoming everyone to the party.

Two future members of the Rock and Roll hall of Fame. A sickeningly cute one of my friend Bruce and and my sister, Megan. She just looks guilty, doesn't she??!

Mom and #1 Son.

Cute Couples:

Dancing Fools:

Friends:

Overtime

2007-07-09T21:07:00.000-05:00

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, Thought I'd something more to say. . .

--Pink Floyd. "Time", Dark Side of the Moon. (1973)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
After a game where the home team somehow managed to get the ball up court, dribble a couple of times, then drive in for a shot (the clock had said 1.5 seconds remaining, you see), the visiting coach stormed into the home team coach's office asking who in the hell the clock operator was.

"Calm down, I don't want you hurting anybody," the home coach said."I don't want to hurt the guy," the visitor said. "I just want him to time the rest of my life."

Ditto. I got the 2nd quote from either Dean Schmitz or Scott Bandstra, I think. Stand up and take credit, whoever. Stand up and take credit, whoever. July 7, 2007, has come and gone and here I am. If anybody, took the under, time to pay up. There's no shame in admitting it, I didn't think I was going to make it several times. But here I am still standing, although my body is hurting and my days are growing shorter. E-Mails and blog comments are always welcome, please set up visits in advance.

Being A Baseball Fan Prepares You For Cancer

2007-07-03T16:00:00.000-05:00

"It ain't over till its over."
--Yogi Berra (July, 1973)

Always run them out. You never can tell."
--Joe McCarthy (1949)

I've been a baseball fan since I was 3 or 4 years old and my parents took me to an Iowa Oaks game (they were, at the time, the AAA minor league affiliate for the Oakland A's) and I began yelling for the Oaks pitcher to "Cross (i.e., "strike") him out". I soon developed a passion for the game and my favorite team became the Kansas City Royals. As you may be aware, Royals won their division every year from 1976 - 1978 and lost to the Yankees every year in the playoffs. In 1980, they finally beat the Yankees when George Brett hit a towering homerun off Goose Gossage and the Royals finally went to the World Series. They lost in six games to the Phillies, but I didn't care. The evil Yankees had been vanquished. The Royals won the World Series in 1985, but it wasn't the same facing Toronto in playoffs.

Because the Royals became so bad following owner Ewing Kaufman's death in 1993, I decided to "adopt" the Cubs as my other team reasoning that the Cubs were at least semi-competitive and since they were in the National League, they wouldn't play each other anyway except in the unlikely event that both made the World Series.

Wikipedia entry on the Royals (with some editorial commentary by me)

1995-2001: The decline

At the start of the 1990s, the Royals had been hit with a double-whammy when General Manager John Schuerholz departed in 1990 and team owner Ewing Kauffman died in 1993. The Royals went to a board of directors headed by the unbelievably corrupt David Glass, CEO of Wal-Mart. David D. Glass became Owner and Chief Executive Officer of the Kansas City Royals on April 18, 2000 after serving as Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Royals since Sept. 23, 1993. The Board, comprised of Glass and other individuals appointed by Glass, approved his bid of $96 million for the Royals despite the fact a competing bid by Miles Prentice was 25% higher, at $120 million. During the six years of Glass' ownership (2000-2005) the Royals have averaged 97 losses, posting one winning record and three seasons with 100 or more losses, the worst sustained performance for the franchise in its 37 years of operation. Kauffman's death left the franchise without permanent ownership until Wal-Mart executive David Glass purchased the team for $96 million in 2000. Partly because of the resulting lack of leadership, after the 1994 season the Royals decided to reduce payroll by trading pitcher David Cone and outfielder Brian McRae, then continued their salary dump in the 1995 season. In fact, the team payroll was sliced from $40.5 million in 1994 to $18.5 million in 1996.[1]

As attendance slid and the average MLB salary continued to rise, the Royals found it difficult to retain their remaining stars, and the club traded players such as Kevin Appier, Johnny Damon, Jermaine Dye, and Carlos Beltran for prospects rather than pay higher salaries or lose them to free agency. Making matters worse, most of the younger players that the Royals received in exchange for these All-Stars proved of little value, setting the stage for an extended downward spiral. Indeed, the Royals set a franchise low with a .398 winning percentage (64-97 record) in 1999, and lost 97 games again in 2001.

2002-2006: Rock bottom
In 2002, the Royals set a new team record for futility, losing 100 games for the first time in franchise history. The 2003 season saw a temporary end to the losing, when manager Tony Peña, in his first full season with the club, improbably guided the Royals to their first winning record since the 1994 season. He was named the American League Manager of the Year for his efforts.

Picked by many to win their division in 2004 after faring surprisingly well in the free agent market, the Royals fell apart and established a new low by losing 104 games. In 2005, the Royals continued a youth movement, with one of the smallest payrolls in the Major Leagues. The Royals ended the 2005 season with a 56-106 record (.346), a full 43 games out of first place. It was the third time in four seasons that the team reestablished the mark for worst record in the history of the franchise. Looking for a quick turnaround, General Manager Allard Baird signed several veteran players prior to the 2006 season. Nevertheless, the Royals struggled through another 100-loss season in 2006, becoming just the eleventh team in major league history to lose 100 games in three straight seasons.[2]

During the Major League Baseball strike of 1994-1995, Glass, who was not yet owner of the Royals but chairman of the board administering the team after Ewing Kauffman's death, was one of the most forceful voices on the ownership side to oppose any settlement with the players' union, and supported the use of strike breaking "replacement" players, despite a court ruling that Major League owners were in violation of Federal labor laws. Glass is one of the richest owners in all of MLB baseball and could pose a threat to George Steinbrenner who's Yankees make more revenue than any other team in baseball.

Glass created a controversy on June 9, 2006 by revoking the press credentials of two reporters who had earlier asked pointed questions to Royals management. [1] The harsh move to avoid criticism infuriated many within the press and led to a backlash of articles that extended far beyond the Kansas City sports community [2]

Glass and his wife, Ruth, are the parents of three children, Dan, Don and Dayna, all of whom serve on the Royals' Board of Directors. While Charles O' Finley stripped apart a world championship team the Oakland A's he did it because he he couldn't compete financially in the free agency era, Glass, his cronies and children are simply a bunch of greed heads, putting out the cheapest product possible while lining his pockets.

The Chicago Cubs

The Chicago Cubs, meanwhile, have posted six records above .500 since 1993 , and have twice made the playoffs. One first place finish, one second place finish, and three third place finishes during that time period. If nothing else, they have played entertaining baseball setting attendance records despite a smaller stadium and an unfathomable 100 years without a World Series winner.

What are then, the parallels between cancer and baseball?

1. There are always greedy people willing to their financial self interests above the good of the whole no matter how much money they have, like certain doctors and pharmaceutical companies.

2. Hope Springs Eternal.

3. Once in while, in spite of overwhelming odds, the good guys do win.

4. It's a long season, and a long journey with cancer.

5. You gotta play hurt.

6. There are always certain doctors, nurses and coaches willing to go above and beyond the call of duty to see that the interests of the player/patient are put first.

7. Sometimes you need to fire the doctor or manager to move forward.

8. Sometimes the rules of the game change--scientific breakthroughs, interleague play, etc.

9. As long as a game is played well, it is still enjoyable even if your team loses.

What's Next?

2007-06-26T08:30:00.000-05:00

Hey, Another Guest Columnist (or as I like to call it a couple more days for me to be lazy. :-))

Presenting, once again, Dean Schmitz:

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today!
We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field.
A-roundin’ third, and headed for home, it’s a brown-eyed handsome man;
Anyone can understand the way I feel.

Chorus:
Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be centerfield.

Well, I spent some time in the mudville nine, watchin’ it from the bench;
You know I took some lumps when the mighty casey struck out.
So say hey willie, tell ty cobb and joe dimaggio;
Don’t say "it ain’t so", you know the time is now.
Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes;
You know I think it’s time to give this game a ride.
Just to hit the ball and touch ’em all - a moment in the sun;
(pop) it’s gone and you can tell that one goodbye!”

-– John Fogerty, "Centerfield", Centerfield (1985)

As I started putting together an entry as a guest writer for Tom’s blog, I planned on using the theme of baseball. I am a big baseball fan, always have been (even though the owners and players drive me crazy with all their stupid politicking) – the game of baseball is a beautiful thing. My entry was going to be a ‘baseball is a metaphor for life’ type article. It has been written many times before and I was thinking I would take my shot at it.

However, as I was reading another friend’s blog, entitled “What’s Next?” it got me thinking. Justina was writing about being an old married lady and not staying up past 10:30pm. She isn’t sure that her current life is exciting enough for a blog. It may be a calm recovery time that she is experiencing until the next phase of life kicks her into a higher gear. Additionally, the name of her blog may be reflective of her hoping to explore the answers to “What’s Next?”.

Obviously, I don’t have the answers for my friend. I, however, do have some answers for myself, or at least as much as anyone has answers. LIFE is next. Every single moment of it, no matter how exciting or ordinary. While I have a similar life to what my friend is describing (I rarely make the 10 o’clock news, let alone Letterman anymore), and it may not be very exciting to a lot of people, it is life to me and very important to enjoy. Obviously it is good to plan for the future and reflect on the past to learn lessons for the future. But to me, it is so important to live for right now and enjoy it. Whether that means you are climbing a mountain or enjoying pizza on your back porch with family, enjoy the now.

Kind & Generous

2007-06-23T09:25:00.000-05:00

You've been so kind and generous,
I don't know how you keep on giving,
For your kindness, I'm in debt to you
For your selflessness, my admiration
For everything you've done.

You know I'm bound,
I'm bound to thank you for it....

--Natalie Merchant, Ophelia, "Kind & Generous", (1998)

Actually, this song in it's entirety is applicable to my wife, Melissa, but that's another blog. Instead, this blog is about everyone else who has been so kind and generous to me, and more importantly, to my family. We had yet another anonymous and embarrassingly generous gift of what my dad and Uncle Steve (or as he is known around these parts "The Uncle") call "folding money." This is not the first anonymous gift we've received and besides sending our thanks back through my parents who gave us the envelopes, this is the only way I can think of to try to try to reach them "personally."

And I decided to at least try to thank some of the people who have helped us so generously with their thoughts, deeds, and actions. (Yes, Mom, you did teach me better than this. I even have two boxes of thank you notes sitting inside my desk as I type this. I'm just lazy and rude I guess. :-) )

The danger in doing these kind of public thank yous is that you inevitably leave off people because you just forget. I hope nobody's feelings are hurt, because that is not my intent. You have to admit I have a pretty good excuse for forgetting. :-)

Friends and of course family have helped us out immensely, but my sister Megan has gone over and above the call of duty, carting the kids around to various activities, seeing that they're fed and giving us a couple moments of sanity in between all this madness.
Curt and Julie, Doug and Patti, Rod and Holly, Ben and Wendy, Bruce, Scott, Tom, Al and Phyllis, Terry and Sandie, our old neighbors (you know who you are), and our new neighbors, Ron and Joyce, Vicki and Harold. All of the people at the City of Des Moines, who generously donated their vacation time and for inviting me to lunch every Wednesday months after I went on disability. Thanks to James for seeing that the details at the city were taken care of.

I am writing this from the Taylor House Hospice. Hopefully, a temporary stop on the way to Kavanaugh House and eventually home for the inevitable. I apologize if I left anyone off. I think I still have a couple of blogs in me, but we'll just have to wait and see.

The Grateful Dead and Me

2007-06-13T11:38:00.000-05:00

My brother Esau killed the hunter, back in 1969,
Before the killing was done, his inheritance was mine.
When at first my brother walked away,
Before a weary band,
Esau gave his sleeplessness for a piece of moral land.

Our father favored Esau,
he was eager to obey,
All the wild commandments, the old man shot his way.
But all this ended when, my brother failed at war.
He staggered home and found me in the door.

--The Grateful Dead, "My Brother Esau", In The Dark, (1987 (cassette only)).
--See also Genesis 25:21-34

Let me make something clear: I never liked the Grateful Dead growing up. Yeah, I had the Greatest Hits album like everyone else, but even the songs I liked, such as "Truckin' ", marked me as someone who was not a "true" Deadhead. To me, they were kind of a so-so blues band who put out a lot of live albums, doing so-so covers or sometimes hack jobs of other people's songs. The idea of someone slipping acid in my drink at a concert scared the shit out of me. If you need to plan in advance for someone to take care of you in case you freak out, that's a substance you probably shouldn't be putting in your body.

On the other hand, how can you beat the resigned nature of lyrics like this:

Sittin' and starin' out of the hotel window.
Got a tip they're gonna kick the door in again.
I'd like to get some sleep before I travel,
But if you got a warrant, I guess you're gonna come in.
--"Truckin' ", American Beauty, (1970)

I also liked St. Stephen, which was also on the Greatest Hits (a/k/a "Skeletons from the Closet") album (along with "Truckin' ").

My sophomore year of college, "In The Dark" came out, and I really liked "My Brother Esau" which was the "B" side of the Dead's only top 10 hit, ("Touch of Grey"), so I bought the cassette. It wasn't on the album (really big CD's for those of you who are Wendy's age :-) ). I also spent a great deal of time hanging out in GDI bars in Iowa City, like Joe's Place, the Deadwood, and so forth. Later, I discovered, I really liked a song on the "Dead Set" CD, which included, amongst other songs, has "Samson and Delilah", Friend of the Devil", and "Greatest Story Ever Told." And so, I've sort of become a Dead fan gradually over the years.

And what's occurred to me lately, (besides What a Long Strange Trip It's Been) is that many of the artists, I like best have a lot of biblical allusions and references in their material. Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Van Morrison. There's a lot there if you listen carefully. My all time favorite song may be "The Weight" by The Band. So, I've started comparing the biblical verses to some of the songs I like, just for fun, while I am reading the Bible.

I know that most of my friends and family are not exactly avid Bible readers (and frankly, neither am I), but since we have this wonderful toy we call the Internet, you should take some of your favorite songs, compare and contrast them with the actual verses and ruminate on them for a while.

Buying in Bulk

2007-06-07T13:24:00.000-05:00

"After all, the chief business of the American people is business."
--Calvin Coolidge, Address before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, Washington, D.C., Jan. 17, 1925

When the doctors start telling you your time is growing short, and there's really not much they can do (as will happen after my latest scans/pictures today) you have about 4 options :

1. Piss and moan about how unfair life is.

2. Sit and around the house and cry and feel sorry for yourself.

3. Read the Bible, try to contemplate life, while spending time outside.

4. "Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Most of us do some combination of the above. I was never very good at #1, spent most of least week doing #2. That leaves #3 and #4. I'm going to start using some self discipline and starting on #3 in a more serious fashion this next week. That leaves #4. Now there's only so many time you can read a poem so you kind of have to think metaphorically here.

One of my protests against this whole dying thing has been shopping. Nothing extravagant mind you , but grocery shopping for example. We always bought the bag with 50 coffee filters for about 68 cents. I am the only one who drinks coffee in my house, so it makes sense. A few weeks ago, I dropped a whole $1.79 on 200 filters as my little protest against cancer. I've used about 75 so far, so this huge investment may pay off yet :-). I bought a huge (3lb.?) coffee can of Folgers because it was on sale for $4.99. Melissa was mad about it because the can takes up so much cupboard space, but I drank it all. Working on a small bag of Starbucks now.

I bought 10 cans of Chunky (both Campbell's and the HyVee (store) brand) and Healthy Choice soups for $0.75 from the scratch n' dent carts they put at the front of the store. I know it's almost summer, but I intend to eat them all.

I always check out what's in the clearance aisle at Target. I am Bargain Betty and I'm not changing, cancer be damned.

The visits to the oncologists this morning went as I envisioned. There's really nothing else they can for me at this point, my lungs sound pretty good, the cognitive and physical declines are not very steep at this point, and I'm in as good as shape as someone with terminal cancer can be.

On a lighter note, the first two of the ducklings whose mother set up shop in our yard hatched yesterday. The first one with any yellow color is going to be named after Steve Bowman.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

2007-05-28T21:44:00.000-05:00

"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. :-)

How do they do it?

2007-05-26T02:21:00.000-05:00

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)

"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.

I have a very smart wife. She's also an extremely hard worker. That's a good combination for success in life, love and otherwise.

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.

Today's Top 10

2007-05-24T00:08:00.000-05:00

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.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to You…..

2007-05-22T00:01:00.000-05:00

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

Shelter from the Storm

2007-05-20T20:47:00.000-05:00

'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?

Mom Does Blog

2007-05-18T06:46:00.000-05:00

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.

Wild Eyed Liberals. . .

2007-05-14T07:44:00.000-05:00

. . . 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

One Year Out

2007-05-10T06:44:00.000-05:00

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)

Misc. Thoughts on Ireland

2007-05-07T08:38:00.000-05:00

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.

"He's got high hopes. . ."

2007-05-04T04:33:00.000-05:00

. . .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.

IT’S OUR BLOG NOW (written by Bruce and Megan)

2007-04-30T09:56:00.000-05:00

A special guest author appearance from two of this blogs most esteemed (and only) readers:

Because mutiny on the bounty's what we're all about,
I'm gonna board your ship and turn it on out.
No soft sucker with a parrot on his shoulder,
'Cause I'm bad gettin' bolder - cold getting colder.
Terrorizing suckers on the seven seas,
And if you've got beef - you'll get capped in the knees.
We got sixteen men on a dead man's chest,
And I shot those suckers and I'll shoot the rest.
-- Beastie Boys, “Rhymin’ and Stealin’”

February 18, 2007: Paris and the Mutiny (that didn’t happen)

The mutiny on the HMS bounty that took place 218 years ago today was nothing compared to the mutiny that took place amongst weary travelers in Dublin, Ireland on February 17th – 18th…

After traveling and staying in a different place for almost 10 nights in a row, the aspect of traveling again was daunting…the part of Fletcher Christian was played by Bruce, who suggested to Megan that rather than traveling to (the godforsaken French city) Paris with the rest of the group, that we stay behind in Dublin…keep in mind the weather was gorgeous, no rain in sight and both us had been to Paris before…

After much deliberation (and because we love our Captain(s) Bligh), the entire group decides to go to Paris. Lucky for us, the weather after we leave Dublin becomes rainy and miserable, and the weather in Paris was beautiful for our entire stay.

The first thing we’d recommend to serious tourists when going to Paris is to purchase the museum pass at the airport. This will help you to avoid lines if you have a short period of time in which you are hoping to see many sights (as we were). Bruce had a clear interest in seeing Sainte-Chapelle and the Palais de Justice and Megan wanted to see the D’Orsay museum (both of us had been to the Louvre before).

The hotel in Paris was in the Trocadero district…it was awesome. The website is:
http://www.heart-of-paris-hotels.com/hotel-EN-18-garden_elysee_hotel.html

We had a great bartender at the hotel, named Pascal, who seemed to have his hand in everybody’s pocket. According to Bruce, Ben immediately develops a serious man-crush on Pascal. Pascal was able to give us some names of places for dinner (some good, some not-so-good)…the first of which was awesome (and not just of because of the name), La Butte…
La Butte Chaillot 110 bis av kleber 75116 PARIS tel : 01 47 27 88 88Beautiful setting, friendly service, inventive French cuisine that is very well presented.

We were able to have a great dinner to reconcile the mutiny that didn’t happen and to walk down to Trocadero and see the Eiffel Tower for the first time as a group. On the way back to the hotel, we stop at a nice café for a night cap. Wendy breaks a glass and, as we found out the next night, apparently bankrupts the place. It is closed for the rest of the trip.

February 19, 2007

I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon,
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there's still so much to be done.
-- Jimmy Buffet, “Last Mango in Paris”

We didn’t find mangoes, but we did find a great breakfast café along Kleber…neither of us can remember the name, but the omelet, croissants, and coffee were out of this world. With sustenance on our side, we head to the metro (map in hand, of course) to go sight-seeing. After several trips back and forth between metro platforms, Bruce concedes Megan is right and we get on the correct train to Sainte Chappelle/Palais de Justice/Notre Dame.

Neither of us had been to Sainte Chappelle before and we feel it is highly worth visiting…GO UPSTAIRS. Viewing it in the sunlight is like seeing heaven. Notre Dame is beautiful, but no hunchback, and we’re both too lazy to climb stairs to see any special views…so we find a café to drink (wine).

The neat thing about Paris is you can just wander around and find things you are not looking for. We stumble upon the Pantheon, and the Sorbonne. We have more wine and a great bowl of Onion Soup at Crepes-a-go-go (Megan has crepes). We find out that the French in French Onion Soup is presumed and somewhat redundant.

On the way to finding the metro station, we find the Luxemburg Palace and Gardens. It’s a beautiful day and we enjoy the people-watching.

We meet back at the hotel with the group, and have several drinks with the group and Pascal. We dine in a restaurant with no other patrons -- the sign of either a crappy place or the most exclusive restaurant you’ve ever patronized (it was the former).

Like the old man in the Jimmy Buffet song, life is something that should be savored and enjoyed like every day is the last. Go to Paris while you are young and in love.

February 20, 2007

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
--Don McLean, “Starry, Starry Night”

Okay, so this particular painting is not at the D’Orsay, but you get our drift. This is one of the museums for which the museum pass is definitely worth it (after figuring out which entrance to go in). We skip pretty much to the 5th floor to see the impressionist artists that Megan is anxious to see. Bruce misses Manet (no, not Monet).

After seeing (almost) everything we wanted to see, we stop at a café across from the Louvre (which is closed on Tuesdays) and people-watch while sipping on red-wine. We shop in the basement of the Louvre for French rap for Megan’s friend Marit and perfume for Megan’s friend Steph. We then walk through the Palais Royale to another café (more red wine).

We take the Metro to Printemps so Bruce can buy gifts for his children. After purchasing the latest in knight and princess fashions, we stroll along the Champs Elysees.

We meet back with the gang at the hotel where Melissa has gifts for all of us….red wine for Bruce and Megan, liquor for Ben, and JAM FOR WENDY (if that is not a set-up, I don’t know what is)… Pascal helps Bruce buy wine to take back to the States and Bruce immediately develops a man crush (bigger than Ben’s) on Pascal . . . After that night, we eat at another restaurant recommended by Pascal. The appetizers include ‘snakes’ according to the English speaking (as a second language) waiter. Melissa decides to be adventurous and tries the (as it turns out) snails. This goes down as Megan’s favorite night when Bruce makes a huge blunder and is forced by the group to eat a snail.

Back to Dublin

2007-04-24T18:19:00.000-05:00

And now for something completely different."
--Monty Python's Flying Circus Episode 2 (1969)

Actually, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

February 17 and 21, 2007

Back to Dublin

What we actually did was head to Dublin from Galway, spend the night of the 17th in Dublin, head to Paris later on the 18th, and then went back to Dublin on the 21st and went home the 22nd. I'm going to talk about our experiences both times in Dublin in this blog and then let Ben, Wendy, Bruce and Megan do most of the writing on Paris since Melissa and I didn't do much there (I was running down).

I think we should handle "Wendy and the International Jam Incident" separately, since there doubtless will be much to write on that. I 'll write the outsiders' perspective, but we need the inside scoop from Ben and Wendy for that one. I'm going to have an MRI and see the radiation oncologist on Friday, so if you guys (all four of you) can have something to me on Paris by Monday, that would be great. Just e-mail me.

We head to Dublin with Gene at the helm. This is our last time we'll see him (at least for the immediate future) and I think we are all a bit saddened by the prospect. We get a goodbye picture of Gene (above). Goodbye Gene, we hardly knew ye. Some free advertising for Gene and our travel agent Chris Woolson:

The boys head off to the Vesey Arms pub, which at one time belonged to some of Bruce's relatives. It's a nice place, former home to the Italian Embassy, and recently remodeled so the decor is quite a bit different than the pubs which we have frequented other than the ceiling and a couple of chandeliers. The bartenders and waitresses are all drop dead dead gorgeous. Most of them appear to be from former Soviet bloc countries such as Romania, and a couple of Asian women are thrown in for good measure. Ben says to Bruce, "looks like your relatives did okay for themselves," in the wry way that only Ben can.

We then head off to the Guinness Brewery for a tour, but after an hour or so in line, it becomes apparent that we not going to get in, get through the tour and get back to Davy Byrnes' Pub by the agreed upon meeting time. So we split and meet up with the girls at Byrnes' . By this time, we are powerful thirsty from standing in line so we knock back a couple of drinks before going in search of "traditional" Irish music. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find something other than American rock and roll in Ireland. (Still the Irish do a pretty good job of that: Van Morrison and U2 is pretty damn good for a nation of 4million people.) We head to a place named the Dublin Porterhouse that brews their own beer, which is the only thing available on tap or in bottles, besides "imports" like Bud Light.

Melissa hates brew pubs where basically you have to drink the house stuff or pay a fortune for an import bottle. We have several of these type of places in Des Moines, but she's right: you either have to drink their crap or imports in bottles. I drink their stuff which isn't half bad, and Melissa tries a sip or two of their stuff and orders a gin and tonic. We go to the Dublin Chop House for dinner, and it is unmemorable (or at least I don't remember it ). We then seek out some Irish music.

We eventually find some in the strangest pub I've ever seen. On the first floor it is basically a 20's pickup joint with fairly decent American rock n' roll playing. We decide to go upstairs where the bartender says the traditional Irish music is playing. We all get a drink and start toward the stairs. As we near the stairs, we encounter a couple a guys dressed as chicks. I think it's a little strange and wonder if there 's some fraternity prank or some weird Irish holiday going on. We make it up to the second floor, and I'll be damned if it isn't full of transvestites dancing to that techno music crap. Who would have thought??!! We head up to the third floor, and find Traditional Irish music and a ton of people in their 50's. It is absolutely packed. Apparently, the art of traditional Irish music is hard to come by in the off season. The locals have to play it during the busy season, and so they are reluctant to play or listen to it in the off season which I can certainly understand. "Danny Boy" is nice once in a while, but I imagine it gets pretty old ten times a night every night of the week.

We listen for about two more drinks worth and then head back to the hotel for tomorrow's trip to France. (I (We, hopefully) will be writing about France in another Chapter of this blog. So for now, we are skipping ahead to our return from France on the 21st wherein we spent about 1/2 day and the night in Dublin).

After returning from that godforsaken country, we discuss what else we want to see. We go see the Book of Kells, one of the world's oldest and most Beautiful Bible at Trinity College. Definitely worth seeing. We buy some trinkets and trash at the bookstore and then head to the Guinness Brewery again. Again, we are shafted in the long line but do take the opportunity to look for trinkets and trash in their gift shop. We meet up with everyone for an appetizer dinner at Kennedy's (about three blocks from the Mont Clare Hotel where we are staying). For our last stop, we go the the Brazen Head, which is just your ordinary 800 year old tavern. (Established in 1198). Here's a picture which is one of my favorites:

Here's a couple More:

Feck the French. Kinda sums it all up doesn't it? We posted this in the Brazen Head (the small room off the Main bar by the fireplace).

"I'm a man with a mission. . .

2007-04-18T07:31:00.000-05:00

. . . in two or three editions,
And I'm giving you a longing look,
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book."

"Everyday I Write the Book", from the album Punch the Clock (1983)
--Elvis Costello

[Socrates speaking] "Life without this sort of examination is not worth living."
Apology, 38a.
--Plato, Greek Philosopher, 429 B.C. - 347 B.C.

"For when the One Great Scorer comes to write
against your name,
He marks--not that you won or lost--but how
you played the Game."

Alumnus Football, l. 63(1908)
--Grantland Rice

Most of them never had a chance. I'm speaking of course about the Virginia Tech University murders. Three things need to be done to cut down on the probability of carnage on such a massive scale occurring again:

1. Ban certain styles of handguns. I did some quick research on mass murders involving guns in the United States since 1990. There have 16 such items that type crimes since 1990. Of those, I was able to find what weapons were used in 10 of crimes. 7 involved 9mm weapons. Easily available at any gun store, the clips and semi automatic firing capabilities of these weapons need to be banned. You NRA types can save it. Don't even bother writing. We'll allow you to trade in your weapons that have clips and semi-auto firing capability for weapons that don't have those capabilities. You want sporting? Shoot shotguns and bolt action or hand cocked rifles to your hearts content. That's giving a sporting chance, not just slaughtering an animal because you can. You want man-stopping power for personal protection? Well, hell yeah, you can trade in your 9mms for .357 Magnums. Is it going to completely stop these type of murders? No, but will cut down on the amount of carnage when they do occur.

2. Institute a massive tax on ammo for 9mm and other semi-auto guns. I didn't come up with this idea (I think comedian Chris Rock did), but instead of banning the weapons he suggested putting a $5,000.00 per bullet tax on 9mm ammo. I suppose that could work, too.

3. Why, during this day and age (i.e. post 9/11) are we allowing someone who is less than a full citizen to purchase firearms? Any politician with half a lick of sense should strike while the iron is hot on this one.

But in the end, does it really matter how they died? They died far too young with lots of accomplishments , hopes and and dreams in front of them. But far more young people (for the sake of argument, let's just call them people between 18-22 years old) die senseless deaths every day in car accidents and from cancer, for example, than died from the horrific mass murders that took place the other day. We need to take the time on a daily weekly and monthly basis to examine how we are writing the book of our own lives. Are we playing this little game we call life only for own benefit or for the benefit of others, as well?

P.S. I woke up about 4:00 a.m. and I see that NBC is parading around a bunch of crap that the Va. Tech. killer mailed them. Do me a favor and don't dignify it by watching it. Or e-mailing that stuff. Or calling him by name.

'Tis the season. . .

2007-04-13T09:39:00.000-05:00

"The Income Tax has made more Liars out the American people than Golf has. Even when you make one out on the level, you don't know when it's through if you are a Crook or a martyr."
--Will Rogers, The Illiterate Digest (1924) (capitalization retained from original)

For taxes, that is. Got my stuff together, and in enough order that the CPA should be able to make some sense of it. Will return to regular posting on Monday or Tuesday next week. We'll be back to Ireland and a weekend filled with AAU baseball (Joe has four games on Sat. and Sun.).

The Cliffs of Moher

2007-04-05T09:28:00.000-05:00

February 16, 2007

"Don't believe the world owes you a living; the world owes you nothing---it was here first."

--Robert Jones Burdette, U.S. Clergyman and Humorist, quoted by Evan Esar (1949)

"The Harder They Come, The Harder They Fall, One and All."

--Jimmy Cliff , "The Harder They Come" (1975)

Hey, it's hard to find good quotes and good music about cliffs. We went the Cliffs of Moher today and spent about 3 hours there, give or take, and I was overwhelmed by their beauty. They rise out of the Atlantic are are between 700 and 1200 feet above the water. Anyone who doesn't believe in God needs to see these before making that decision. This was me and Melissa's favorite part of the trip. I'll stop blabbing and let the pictures speak for themselves:

And let me tell you, the pics don't really do it justice. We head on toward Galway, and observe the cows sunning themselves on the rocks along the Atlantic Ocean. Gene, who had obviously been keeping an eye out for this, finds a pub named O'Brien's (my mother's maiden name). It is beautiful inside and very large. The service is the absolute worst we've had in Ireland. We ask the bartender about a well a mile up the road that we had stopped at. It is now a wishing well. You can guess what I was wishing for as I tossed in my coins. She has no idea what we're talking about. The well is right on the main highway and there isn't a lot either leading into town or the town itself. We ask the bartender (who is allegedly married to the owner of the place) what the best Irish whiskey she has is. "I don't know. This one is the most popular." I try another tact. "What is your most expensive Irish whiskey?" "I don't know", she responds. At this point, I'm incredulous. Ben and I finally convince her to take down a couple of bottles from the top shelf and we choose one for her to pour. The service is so slow and bad that even Gene makes fun of her after we leave. I guess the O'Brien's were meant to be served, not to serve others. :-) Here's one of Meg and I:

We head on to Galway, where we go to the Marless House operated by Mrs. Mary Geraghty. I think Gene is tired about us bitching about the B&B's, because he makes a point of mentioning that Chris (our travel agent) really likes this place and stays here all the time. Hey Gene, I just call them as I see them.

Turns out Chris is right. Mary greets us warmly. Both Mary and her husband are very engaging and have what James Joyce called the "gift of gab". We talk for nearly an hour with them in their kitchen before going out of the evening. The showers have both Americanized controls and most importantly, great water pressure. The breakfast is very good. Highly Recommended.

We head out to dinner after a couple of drinks at Sonny's which is a crowded but neat pub. None of us can decide where to go so we end going for pizza at a place called Finnegan's. Rule of Travel #183: Never eat pizza at a place in Ireland that advertises on trash cans. We didn't notice that last little part until we left the place. The best part of the meal was water. We head back to the B&B a short time later.

P.S. You know they always talk about the local color when you visit a place? This picture was taken from the front seat of our vehicle:

There once was a driver named Gene. . .

2007-03-30T10:31:00.000-05:00

who kept his bus very clean.
At a very low cost,
we never got lost;
even while looking for Kilbeheen.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Even with that pathetic bit of doggerel, you can guess where we passed through today. It's a dumpy little industrial town, the only place we saw in Ireland that wasn't really pretty. Think Gary, Indiana, or maybe a small version of Philadelphia. The Clarkes originated near Limerick and I was hoping to at least have a drink in a pub named Clarke's but no such luck. The owner of the place we do stop in at says he hasn't even heard of any pubs called Clarke's so we give up after a couple drinks and meet Gene back at the bus.

Even so, getting to Limerick, we passed through several mountain passes and although the fog is in and out, it is still breathtaking. See example below:

On our way into Limerick, Gene stops and we all take a drink from a cold mountain stream.

After Limerick, we head toward the Dromoland Castle where we will "demand the exemplary service demanded by the O'Brien's." But first we stop at the Bunnratty castle just outside Shannon. The castle is closed for tours, but Ben and Wendy track down someone who agrees to give them an abbreviated tour. Luckily, for the rest of us there a pub next door. Even better, it is one we are (sort of) familiar with. Durty Nellie's, has some history with us because Melissa, myself, Bruce and Megan went to a knockoff called Dirty Nellie's located on the Riverwalk in San Antonio, Texas about 5 years ago when Iowa went to the Alamo Bowl. It was a piano bar, and we had a great time. The original is very cool. Not your ordinary 150 year old pub, this place was established in 1620. Yep, Same as when the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. I'll bet the folks at Durty Nellie's had a better time. I know we did. Yours truly:

Ben, Corky (I mean Bruce), and I:
After a good time was had by all, and we had purchased numerous trinkets and trash, we headed to the Dromoland castle located in Newmarket-on-Fergus. Here's what you see as you pull in (note our bus on the right):Dromoland was built in 1543 by the O'Briens (my mother's maiden name) who were barons of Inchiquin, and direct descendants of the High King Brian Boru the "valiant leader of a victory over the Danes in 1014. Today, the eighteenth baron of Inchiquin still lives on the grounds" (which consist of over 370 acres, including an 18 hole golf course, horseback riding and shooting). Who would have guessed we descended from the landed gentry? Even more impressive than the outside is the inside:

The doors in the place ranged from 10 feet to 12 feet high. We showered before dinner, not necessarily because we needed to, but because they were hot showers with blasting water and normal controls. Robes and slippers were provided and so were complimentary aperitifs in the room. We were supposed to have jackets for dinner, but luckily they provide one for me. It is nice to see everyone dressed up, and we have a cocktail in the "lounge" before dinner. The lounge is an area with very old and expensive looking furniture, huge portraits 10' x 6' (maybe?) and ceilings that are probably 20' high. We are seated for dinner, and we are usual selves which the staff seems to enjoy since their other customers are there for a particularly stuffy wedding rehearsal dinner. We have a great meal, very good desserts and the company is even better. Don't miss this place if you ever go to Ireland. After dinner, we all retire to our bedrooms and Melissa and I almost immediately fall asleep.

Doing Nothing

2007-03-28T09:15:00.000-05:00

"Let me say to you now that to do nothing at all is the most difficult thing in the world, the most difficult and the most intellectual." Gilbert, Intentions, Part II by Oscar Wilde

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone. . .but they've always worked for me." Hunter S. Thompson, quoted in Life, Jan. 1981

I went to the Stoddard Cancer Center yesterday. Got a CT taken, as well as blood counts, and went to see my oncologist. The tentative plan was to do another round of chemo unless the cancer had spread so far in the lung as to make chemo irrelevant.

I had been antibiotics for the previous 10 days ending Sunday and the cough and hacking I had was gone. After I stopped the antibiotics, the cough has come back some, but I'm no longer coughing up the white crap.

So we go in to see Dr. Heddinger, and he said that after reading the CT I have a partially collapsed right upper lung lobe and I could do one of three things: have chemo again, do a bronchoscopy (the procedure where they stab you in the back with a humongous needle), or do nothing. The CT showed stable tumor (at least in the lung), so he wasn't going to recommend chemo. The bronchoscopy is highly invasive, hit or miss on results, and in all likelihood would only reveal the partially collapsed lung which we can't do anything about. That left option three: Do nothing.

As an attorney, this was often my advice especially in criminal cases. It's hard for the attorney to give, because he or she isn't making any money doing nothing. It's hard for the client, because they want to feel like they (or their attorney) was hard at work on their case. So usually, they were too dumb to follow the advice and would either open their mouths as soon a cop asked them a question, or often, would actively seek out the police to "tell their side of the story." They ended up screwing themselves, of course, whereas the people who followed the advice often ended up with their cases dropped by the county attorney, or sometimes (if they came to me early enough) not even being charged.

Similarly, doctors don't make much if they are not performing procedures or surgeries and only running diagnostic tests. It's hard advice to give and to take. So I admire Dr. Heddinger even more for giving this advice.

This doesn't solve the brain mets problem upon which I'll probably have stereotactic surgery (again) in mid-May. But for now, it's morphine, Crown Royal and Smithwick's. Breakfast of Champions (with apologies to Kurt Vonnegut).

St. Valentine's Day

2007-03-23T08:44:00.001-05:00

February 14, 2007

[You can't ] "wallow with the eagles at night and then soar with the pigs in the morning." --Hunter S. Thompson, The Great Shark Hunt

We wake up having got our best night's sleep in God knows how long. The shower is hot and there is plenty of water. We call room service and have them bring us coffee and a soda while we are getting ready. It is a rested casual morning. We go down to breakfast. We get a great window seat in the restaurant. Service is marginally better than we've had. They at least fill our coffee and other drinks and bring us soda bread. The buffet itself is very good, but frankly, after seven days, I'm ready for a chocolate doughnut. We have to track down the waitress to get her to bring more juice and coffee. Ben is not feeling well this morning. Apparently, too much booze and rich seafood has done in he and his stomach. Wendy tells us this. My wife and Megan immediately volunteer to stay another night in this beautiful hotel, but I'm non-plussed. If we weren't on such a tight schedule, I'd go along with staying another night, but if I miss stuff now, it's not like I can come back next year or some other time. I indicate to Wendy that we are pressing on. Wendy says that if we give Ben until 11:30 a.m. he can move on. We're not on that tight of a schedule, so we give Ben an opportunity to man up.

My wife bought me underwear and t-shirts at a Target type store yesterday, so I use the additional time to return my 60 Euro underwear. The dollar is falling so fast against the Euro that I actually make $0.24 on the exchange. Ben, does in fact, man up, and we move on shortly after the noon hour. It is not a long drive to Dingle, but it is beautiful. Cattle laying down right by the shoreline. Damnedest thing I've ever seen, except maybe the cattle on the mountains on our right. The cattle are negotiating the mountains!!

We stop at Tom Crean's South Pole Inn in Annascaul or "Áth na Scal" (Ford of the Heroes). Most people in the pub speak Gaelic. It helps that Gene does too. Crean went the South Pole twice, once each with the well known explorers Robert Scott and Earnest Shackleton. He also single handedly saved a member of the expedition when most people would have left him for dead. If you're really interested, a link is here:

http://www.70south.com/resources/antarctic-places/irelandannascaul

We then head into Dingle, where we check in at Walsh's Townhouse B&B. We are actually warmly greeted by the owner, and she doesn't complain about the fact that we are early. Good first impressions are usually correct, and in this case they turn out to be. The Rooms are small, but clean. The shower has American type controls on it. The breakfast room has been recently redone, and the lights work. We meet across the street at the an drocied beag (Gaelic for "the small bridge"). Ben, Wendy, Bruce and Megan decide to take Gene up on his offer to show them the "beehive" huts. Melissa and I decide to stay back at the pub where we are seated by our usual spot near the fireplace because neither of us have much interest in the beehive huts and it is getting cold and windy out. After awhile, Melissa and I walk up and down Main Street during which we discover that Doyle's, the place where I was planning on taking everyone to dinner, is closed. We stop at another Pub (Sheey's) and ask for a recommendation from the owner for dinner and she mentions Ashes, down Main Street.

We then head down Main, window shopping, until I spy a place called Foxy John's Bar and Hardware. I insist on stopping in, and damned if it isn't a bar on one side and hardware shop on the other. While I'm drinking a pint, two people actually make hardware purchases. You can see Foxy John and I in the photo above. I'm the ugly one on the right. Note the girl's bicycle in the left window in the lower photo on the left.

We meet back up with gang at "the small bridge" and are also told by the people there to go dinner at Ashes.' Dinner is very good, one our best in Ireland. We finish the night at the Small Bridge where they have live Irish music every night. You'd be surprised how many places have only American rock'n'roll. I'm pretty tired, so Melissa and I call it an early night.

My Greatest Albums (CDs) of All Time

2007-03-18T16:54:00.000-05:00

Okay. I admit it. This is a cheap easy column to substitute for actual thoughtful reporting that I usually (try to) do. Yet it is sure to engender a lot of discussion. Please feel free to add your top 25 (or top ten or five) of all time, too. I assume that most people noticed I included a couple of bootlegs you probably haven't heard. If you want copies let me know.

Only two rules: (1) No anonymous lists or anonymous criticism of mine; and (2) no greatest hits or boxed set compilations. Without further ado:

My 25 Favorite Albums of All Time as of March 18, 2007 (In no particular order)

1. Van Morrison Street Choir
2. Alanis Morrisette Jagged Little Pill
3. The Who Who Are You?
4. Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon
5. Bruce Springsteen The Saint, the Incident and the Main Point Shuffle (Bootleg 2/2/75)
6. John Cougar Mellencamp Pink Houses
7. The Band The Band
8. Van Morrison Into the Music
9. Delbert McClinton One of the Fortunate Few
10. Warren Zevon The Wind
11. Run DMC Raisin’ Hell
12. The Beastie Boys Licensed to Ill
13. Little Feat Waiting for Columbus
14. Shelby Lynne I Am Shelby Lynne
15. John Lee Hooker Live in Montreaux (Bootleg 7/15/83)
16. AC/DC Back In Black
17. Led Zeppelin Physical Graffiti
18. Indigo Girls The Indigo Girls
19. Norah Jones Feels Like Home
20. Jackson Browne Running on Empty
21. The Beatles Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
22. R.E.M. Document
23. Matchbox 20 Yourself or Someone Like You
24. Bob Dylan Blood On the Tracks
25. The Pretenders Learning to Crawl

Hopefully back to Ireland and cancer next column.

"Many Sanks"

2007-03-13T07:02:00.000-05:00

"I want to thank everyone who made this day necessary."
---Yogi Berra, on Yogi Berra Day, 1947

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

This is what the interpreter for the French people kept saying as the proprietor was trying to get them out so could serve us breakfast. She kept handing her all these worthless brochures (I know these were worthless because I had looked at them on the way in), like those "guidebooks" full of coupons for the town they were leaving. Also featured, since, they were going to Dublin, was a three year old map of Dublin, which didn't even include the new highway (I think it's the M1) that encircles Dublin. Every time the proprietor handed the French interpreter a map or brochure, the interpreter would repeatedly say "many sanks" (i.e., many thanks). We were in the the sitting room, waiting for breakfast, just off the entry way where this "conversation" was taking place.

We were desperately waiting for coffee, (even the nasty instant coffee placed in the room was decaf), but it was so damn funny listening to this, because the harder she tried to get rid of them, the longer and and more repeated the cries of "Many Sanks" became. This became one of the catchphrases for our trip except in France where it became "une petite thanks" for snotty desk clerks, waiters, etc.

As soon as got in the breakfast room, we were told we were sitting at the wrong table. How we supposed to have figured this out, I'm not sure. However, we moved and we finally got coffee. After a pretty good breakfast, Gene had arrived, but it was still raining. Before we leave Kenmare, we visit one of the stone circles. It is known locally as the “Judge and Jury” as it consists of thirteen stones with a central bolder burial. It is the center piece of a complex astronomical calendar, which includes both solar and lunar cycles. Monuments on the horizon mark the rising and setting of the moon on significant dates.

We head on toward Killarney, and the scenery, even in the rain and fog, is beautiful. In several places, we see palm trees growing. Who knew? We stop at the Muckross House, which is a national park. Unfortunately, it is raining and the Park is closed for renovations until mid-March . We get out and take a look anyway. It's pretty impressive. It starts to pour. We run into the visitor center which is more or less closed except for the cafe and the trinkets and trash store, i.e. the gift shop. We spend an hour buying trinkets and trash and then head into the cafe. It is a beautiful cafe where you can watch the storms roll in and out through the large glass windows.

We make the rest of the short trip to Killarney, where our hotel is. After circling the hotel several times, and being unable to approach the hotel within 3 blocks our driver Gene does what we do in American cities: park illegally, and then ask the person who tells you to move for directions. Unlike Chicago, however, they are a lot more personable in Ireland. We unload most of our luggage, and the smartly dressed hotel desk clerk jumps in the van with Gene and she not only gives him directions on where to park, but a recommendation on where to go for dinner tonight. The hotel lobby is absolutely gorgeous and the service is top flight. It is easily in the top five hotels I've stayed at, including Ritz Carlton, Marriott resorts and so forth in major American cities. We are shown to our rooms by the bellman and flop onto the comfortable bed.

The guys and Wendy go to Ross Castle, which is a 14th century castle just outside of Killarney. The other two girls go shopping (or at least so we thought) in town. The castle is closed; however, they let us wander around the grounds where we run into a former tour guide who gives us the history of the place.

After rounding up everyone, we head to Hannigan's, a pub that is a James Joyce Award winner. Bruce and I split up from the girls and go in search of a laundromat. We find a laundry, but they can't guarantee the clothes will be done by the time we leave in the morning. I go to a men's store and drop 60 Euro's on new underwear and t-shirts. Bruce and I head to place named Tattler Jack's quaff a couple of Guinness's and then it occurs to us that tomorrow is Valentine's Day. We quickly purchase some flowers, a card, and a bottle of wine for the girls. Hope Ben remembered to do the same.

We meet back at the hotel and go to Lord Kenmare's, the place the desk lady recommended for dinner. It is fantastic and we have a great time. For a nightcap, we head to Jack C's, a place Melissa and Megan discovered while they were out earlier. It is a tiny place that seats a total of 14, but it's great, The owners are very personable and we stay until nearly closing. Tomorrow we are off to the Dingle Peninsula.

Good News I guess. . .

2007-03-09T13:24:00.000-06:00

(Or at least not bad news)

"No news is good news." James Howell, Familiar Letters, June 3, 1640

Well, all of the scans determined that I don't have any cancerous growth on the spine, which is good news, I guess. It is doesn't solve the problem of what is causing the numbness in my legs and feet, though. I still have a couple of new brain mets that popped up on the follow up scan to my stereotactic radiation that I had on March 1. I'm waiting for the "RADMAN" (as his vanity plate states) to consult with the neurologist and see what's causing the numbness and headaches. No tales from Ireland today. Maybe tomorrow.

"Rainy Days and Mondays. . ."

2007-03-08T11:08:00.000-06:00

. . . (and not having hot coffee when promised) always get me down."
--Karen Carpenter

Monday, February 12, 2007

Monday morning, it is raining as we wake up. Although I enjoy rain at night, I hate waking up to rain. We shower and I head out to to the breakfast room at 8:00 a.m. for the coffee that was promised to be ready. No sign of coffee. I go back to our room. At 8:20 a.m., I go back out. No coffee, no sign of coffee. Back to the room. At 8:40 a.m., I head back out. Megan warns me she just got barked at for asking about the coffee. I don't give a damn. I head to the kitchen and ask if we can have some coffee. "Fine," she snaps. Five minutes later, I have coffee.

Gene shows up on time as always. We begin our journey again, headed toward Kenmare and the Ring of Kerry. We stop at a delightful little pub in Dunmanaway called the Shamrock and an older couple offers to let us sit down with them. They are very nice and entertaining.

We continue on with the trip through the southwestern region. It is as beautiful as you've seen in any postcards. We begin heading North through Bantry and take some pictures overlooking the Bantry Bay. We head toward Glengariff and drive by Maureen O'Hara's place. She starred opposite John Wayne in The Quiet Man (and four other movies), and was the wife in Miracle on 34th Street and The Parent Trap. By the the way, for those of you that don't know, John Wayne was born in Winterset, Iowa, about 30 miles southwest of Des Moines. Gene shows us his place and is very hospitable. By the way Gene, your place is beautiful. We look around town, but don't buy anything, because it all seems kind of pricey. We eat at the Park Hotel for lunch, and it's standard pub fare, but still very good.

Currently playing on XM as I type this: Alanis Morrisette, "Ironic". Perfect. I think I'll buy a lottery ticket today. :-)

It's raining as we leave the Park Hotel in Glengariff. It alternates between rain and sunshine switching to mostly rain by the time we get to Kenmare. We do get to see some beautiful scenery during breaks in the weather. Gene drives this large bus like a master up and down the very narrow and steep road . We are now in the Caha Mountains. and we drive through Turner's Rock Tunnel, a hand made tunnel.

Shortly after that, we stop at Molly Gallivan's Cottage and Visitor Centre. Although it is not open this time of year, Gene has arranged with the owner of the place to let us check it out. It is named after Gallivan who was widowed with seven children. She supplemented her meager income by selling part of her farm produce such as butter, eggs and honey on the local market. Her home baking and hand spun woollens were ever popular with the few passing tourists but it was her illicit home brewed poitin (potato whiskey) locally known as Molly’s Mountain Dew which she sold in her sibbeen (illegal pub) that was the most profitable. "The exploits of this enterprising widow are legendary" , according to the brochure. It sounds like she had plenty of advance warning when the local authorities we coming, both due to her vantage point at the top of the mountain and probably from grateful customers. The cottage where she stayed was 500 square feet. Can you imagine? An adult, 7 children, and a couple of animals (sheep and chickens ) inside a 500 square foot cottage! We see a short movie on the site and then Wendy gets to meet a "relative" (someone with the same name as some of her relatives), and have her picture taken with him.

We stop in Kenmare, and do some shopping. I decided to splurge and get a Gaelic wool sweater. Probably paid too much , but man it's warm. Plus Melissa negotiated the price downwards, so we didn't overpay too terribly much. Apparently, you can negotiate at any of the the shops in tourist towns, we later learn from Gene. We also pick up a Gaelic Football and shirt for Joe and Melissa gets a few things for herself.

We meet at the Wander Inn for a couple of drinks, and then head to the Rockcrest house to check in. As we are still getting out of the bus and bringing in the luggage, the owner demands to know when want breakfast tomorrow morning. Can we consult with the rest of our party before deciding ?", I ask. "No. I have another group coming in tonight so I need to know now," she snaps. Melissa and I decide that everyone is eating at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. That means no coffee in the morning. I hate having no coffee in the morning.

We go to a place called Ryan's where a young guy (about 30 yrs. old maybe) who is bartending owns the place. It is a large place which has new decor, but is tastefully done. Lots of wood, brass, etc. We start talking to him , and he indicates that including improvements, he has E 2.2 million (about $3 million) into the place. I ask him where his cash came from and he states he got lucky fixing up two previous bars and flipping them. At least he doesn't think he's a genius, because he bought in the right place at the right time. Sure it takes hard work, but there's also an element of luck to owning a place and he recognizes this. I kind of like the guy. We meet a couple where the female is originally from Davenport, Iowa. We exchange stories about Iowa City.

We head to a fast food place where basically all they serve is fish and chips , but talk about fresh. The owner (at least I presume she was) actually pulls the fish out of the fridge and breads it in front of us before dropping it in the cooker. It is delicious. We head to couple of more pubs before walking home. If the weather clears up like it finally appears to be doing here, we'll be seeing the Ring of Kerry tomorrow.

"This Ain't No Party, This Ain't No Disco...

2007-03-07T09:15:00.000-06:00

. . . this ain't no fooling around."

--The Talking Heads, "Life During Wartime"

"Old folks boogie, down on the farm. Wheelchairs, they was locked arm in arm."

--Little Feat, "Old Folks Boogie"

"The waiting is the hardest part."

--Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, "The Waiting"

Let's see. Where do we start? How 'bout with the visit from the lady from Hospice? She was certainly nice enough, but it was fucking depressing, going through my medical history for the umpteenth time. Shortly after the visit concluded, the delivery van from the hospice arrived, and set up a hospital bed in my (1st floor) office. I thought I was prepared for this eventuality, but I guess not. Maybe no one ever is.

Then a couple hours later it was over to the hospital for a three hour MRI session of my neck, cervical spine, lumbar spine, and sacroiliac spine. Then over to X-ray to photograph 8 views of the same thing. The first machine we were on broke in the middle of my pics. Kind of the story of my health the last 1 1/2 years. Got home at quarter to midnight, completely exhausted.

Now I have to wait until tomorrow (Thursday) to see if if the cancer has spread to my spine and if so, if any palliative radiation can be done. it's questionable due to the previous radiation on the lung. If not, I guess it's time to get fitted for a wheelchair. I was ready for pain, even extreme pain, but I wasn't (and I'm not) ready for that news.

Reality Interlude, Part II

2007-03-05T09:52:00.000-06:00

I've got an appointment for an MRI tomorrow night. Dr. McGinnis thinks it may be metastatic cancer to the spine causing the numbness and tingling in my legs. Because of the previous radiation to the lungs, if there is cancer high up on the spine, there will be nothing they can do. A wheelchair will be in my near future. Pray for me.

The Redemption of Mary, Gay Bars, and Kinsale

2007-03-02T09:53:00.000-06:00

Sunday, February 11, 2007

We woke up about 6:15 a.m. after a good night's sleep. Didn't freeze to death. In fact we were quite toasty . These blankets in Ireland are fantastic! We shower, and after a cup of the best coffee in Ireland (really!), Mary's husband, Sonny, drives Melissa, Megan and I to church. (The rest of our crew consists of unrepentant sinners :-) ). Mary warns us that they hit you up for two Euro a head on the way in, so I am prepared. 3/4ths of seats are unoccupied, yet there are numerous people standing in the back. I wonder if the $2 Euro is some sort of seating tax. It is a sunny, glorious morning, and mass takes only 27 minutes. The scenery outside the church is beautiful, even the graveyard (different than the one in Kilbehenny) adjacent to the church. We attempt to take to a picture from the steps of the church, with the Galty Mountains in the background but I think the camera batteries were worn out. No matter. I have the image in my head for the rest of my life.

Sonny, takes us around town and shows us some of the beautiful Church of England churches and possessions. He then drives us back to the B&B where we have more of that great coffee and a very good traditional Irish breakfast.

We drive to Cork City to allow Wendy and the girls to go shopping. Unfortunately, nothing is open until noon, including the bars in the area. Wendy and Megan go shopping at noon, and the rest of us go to some place called Les Chateau which is the only place open that serves alcohol . The place is quiet except for a few guys having drinks. You have to get a code to go to unlock the bathroom, which I find a bit unusual but the bartender is cool about getting our drinks and taking our food orders. On my way to the bathroom, this guy at a table of three two table over from ours gives me the evil eye which I think is a bit weird since I didn't think our table was even being our loud obnoxious, usual selves. On the way back from the bathroom, he looks at me again, and I give him my best "Fuck you" look. I figure we collectively outweigh these guys by about 150 lbs. and if we can't take them in a scrap, we aren't worth our salt. Nothing further happens. Megan and Wendy get back from shopping. My sister and Bruce say their chowder is good, and after a couple more drinks we leave.

After we meet up with Gene at the appointed time and place, we tell him where we went, and and he says in his Irish brogue, "Did you know that's a gay bar?" We figured that explained the looks we were getting from that table and had a good laugh about it.

We now drive on toward Kinsale. On the outskirts of town, Gene wants to show us something special. We lost on some old dirt roads, so Gene stops three ladies who are out walking to get directions. They mean well, but they are about as helpful as mud. "Well, if go down this road, there's a sign pointing to Charlesford." Gene explains we have been up and down this road three times and there is no sign. "Well, then take your second left where the sign used to be." Right. Gene eventually finds what we are looking for which is Charles' Fort. It offers a spectacular view of the Kinsale Harbor, and beyond that, the Celtic Sea. We have some great pictures that I'll add to this site when we everybody's pictures for the photo album (Hint, hint!).

Gene has called ahead, and there is a problem with our B&B. He assures us it will be taken care of . We try to assure him that if worse comes to worse we'll find a hotel, and work it out with Chris later. We drive on to Kinsale, where we stop at the Blue Haven Hotel for drinks and appetizers while Gene checks out the B&B. We watch the (Gaelic) "football" (a/k/a/ rugby) match on television. It is actually a pretty cool game. The scoring is like football, except there are 5 pts. rather than 6 for a "touchdown", and the point after is 2 pts. rather than one. You can kick the ball forward, but only can pass or lateral it backward. You tackle the guy with the football, and there are no pads, so you have to be a tough S.O.B. to play this game. Field goal opportunities are given when various infractions are committed, and can be taken voluntarily at other times which I never quite figured out. Ireland ends up losing a heart breaker to France in the last minute , 20-17. We end up yelling as loud as any one in the bar.

Gene returns and tells us the owners of the original place we were supposed to stay at went on vacation, but he found us alternate accommodations at the Ashgrove House in Kinsale. We find out that the Blue Haven doesn't serve dinner on Sunday nights and that only guests of the hotel get to have the seven course breakfast. The best laid plans. . .We check in at the Ashgrove house and meet the proprietor. She doesn't seem very pleased that we are here. We ask her to have coffee ready at 8:00 a.m. and then breakfast whenever she can get it ready after that. We have Gene drop us in town.

We have a couple of drinks at some pub and end up eating next door at a place called the White House. Dinner is very good for a casual place, and it is our turn to buy so we put it on a credit card. Luckily, Melissa checks the receipt before we leave and the bill was made out for 1,620 Euros (roughly $2,200 American). She points this out to the waiter, who doesn't even apologize for the error, but silently brings over a corrected bill for 162 Euros. It makes us wonder if the error is intentional. We have drinks after dinner at Dalton's but we head home shortly after arriving. It is raining out, and the taxi service says we are too close to them to be picked up, so we have to walk in the rain to the taxi stand and then intercom them from outside. Kinsale, a real customer oriented town. We watch a little t.v. in the sitting room at the B&B and then call it a night. In my opinion, Kinsale, is a tourist town that can be skipped.

Brief Reality Interlude

2007-03-01T07:26:00.000-06:00

Going in for an MRI and meeting with the oncologist today. Have been experiencing numbness and tingling in both legs and headaches. It started in Ireland a little bit but I hoped it was due to the long plane rides and all of the walking we were doing on the trip, but has gotten worse since we got back. The headaches were really bad yesterday, too, but so far nothing today. I'll keep you updated on my medical status.

Homeward Bound

2007-02-28T07:12:00.000-06:00

Searching Through Graveyards in Kilbehenny
Saturday, February 10, 2007

We have breakfast at the hotel, and the food at the buffet is pretty good, but the service is virtually non-existent. Apparently, the only job of the two people at the door is to check you off their list in order to ensure you don't take two breakfasts. I think about giving them Ben and Wendy's name & room number so they won't be able to get breakfast when they come down, but decide I can wait until later to see Wendy cause an international incident. In spite of the fact that Melissa and I are one of only three tables occupied in the restaurant, it takes forever to get coffee and when it arrives, I discover it's weak. Yuck. I hate weak coffee.

We check out and wait for our driver Gene O'Sullivan to arrive. He arrives right on time and we make introductions. Since we have ambitiously set out to do a different town or city every night, I'm very pleased to see he brought a very large (14 passenger) van for the six of us (or seven if you count Gene). With the "8 passenger" van from the airport, I had to carry luggage on my lap, so I was worried about room on the tour bus. I mean, I weigh 205 lbs. which is the most of anyone in our group, so it's not like we're morbidly obese. It's just the vehicles are tiny.

We stop at a convenience shop outside of Dublin where everyone gets coffee (except Melissa, who gets diet soda). It took a while to get out of Dublin because of the traffic, but at 11:00 a.m., Gene suggests stopping at a pub. Looks like this is going to be a great trip. We stop at Morrisey's in Abbeyleix, Laois (Queen's) County, a historical town founded in the 18th century as an estate town by Viscount De Vesci and is situated near a 12th century Cistercian monastery beside the River Nore. Population 1009.

There are about five guys drinking already, which is always a promising sign. I am reminded of a bar that Bruce and I went to in law school called Mumm's, and one of it's slogan's was "no women to interrupt your beer drinking." It turns out that I'm right. Morrisey's was established in 1733, and as you might imagine, times were a little different back then. In, fact, Gene points out a special wooden box with two benches facing each other, but with the sides built up. Apparently, the women had to sit in this box if they were in the pub, and they were visible only to the passerby in the streets through the window, and the bartender. Ben, Bruce and I think this is a great idea. The women roll their eyes. :-)

Melissa surprises me again by ordering a Smithwick's (a.k.a. "Smitic's"). There is a fire in the stove burning peat moss and wood for heat. Very cool. A older gentleman sings to Wendy an old Irish tune a capella with a voice that is breathtaking. He promises to send her a cassette tape in a few weeks. This is the kind of thing we came to Ireland for. This is going to be a great trip! We also stop at Doyle's Pub in Urlingford, County Kilkenny, for another drink. We are the only inhabitants of the place besides the bartender and she's pretty wrapped up in a local hurling match, so it's not as cool as Morrisey's. Melissa and I try to use the T-Mobile cell phone that we purchased specifically for this trip because of their alleged Ireland coverage switching from Verizon which I had had for about ten years and was perfectly happy with (but which had no coverage in Ireland). Of course it doesn't work, and we have to use a pay phone and credit card to reach the boys.

We reach Kilbehenny (population 440) and try to stop a one the three pubs to get some info on the Condon's (my paternal grandmother's maiden name). Unfortunately, all of the pubs are closed. However, Gene spies someone in back of the 3 Counties Inn (so named because the counties of Limerick, Cork, and Tipperary meet there) and asks her to open it. Amazingly, she complies with his request. We have a drink, but the bartendress doesn't know anything about the Condons or the tiny town for that matter. Gene, Megan and I, set out for the old cemetery just southeast (behind) of the pub ,which also has the ruins of the old church. On the way, Gene stops a lady who knows where some Condons live or used to live, and gives him directions there. It appears the place is given minimal care because the ground is terribly uneven, and it looks like the graves were dug fairly shallow, or perhaps they have just become that way over time. I feel like a hand might reach out of the grave at any time. You have to really watch where you step or you'll break an ankle.

We find a grave marked "W. Condon Born 1732, Died 1799, age 67." It is located on the inside of the old church, against the North wall. Apparently, this was considered an honor. Gene tells us that the graves in the Catholic cemeteries always face east, unless you were a priest, in which case they face west. Good to know in case you ever find yourself in a graveyard in Ireland at night without a compass.

We stop by the priest's residence a couple blocks north of the 3 Counties Inn. No luck. We go to the "new" church, which was built in the 1870's. It is beautiful. Apparently, it has a real problem with votive candle expense, because a) you have to put your money in first (one Euro if memory serves) ; and b) you don't get to light a candle at all, but rather have a light in a red votive shaped plastic thingy with a light inside. The church has a plaque in it dedicated "in memory of John Condon, who died on the 8th of June, 1899, in the 67th year of his age, the 36th year of his priesthood and the 11th year of his pastorship of Kilbehenny and Anglesborough, a man simple, upright, and fearing God, a good priest, and devoted pastor and a true friend. May he rest in peace. Amen." He apparently was the second pastor of the "new" church.

Megan, Gene and I then head to the Condon house, where the son probably in his 40's, reluctantly lets us in. The old lady, probably in her 80's, was apparently married to a Condon during her first marriage and was left the homestead which also appears to have a few acres suitable for farming. His name was James Condon and her name is Nora Condon, despite having been remarried. It doesn't appear to fit any of the info I have, so I don't think we found a relative. The old lady, has a lazy eye but is certainly genial . Megan notices that the son has a lazy eye too (I hadn't noticed his) and of course immediately proceeds to tell Bruce about it. Big mistake. My grandmother's family is instantly renamed "The Cross Eyed Condons" and every person with a lazy eye for the remainder of the trip is a Condon.

We move on to Mitchelstown where we check into the Palm Lodge B&B run by Mary O'Connell. I guess she is pretty nervous about having 3 lawyers at her place according to Gene, but by and large it doesn't take much to please us. The bed, however is lumpy, and gives us a backache. The bed at Clontarf was bad as well. In fact, nearly every place we stay has old beds. This apparently is a problem throughout Europe. It's about 55 degrees Fahrenheit in the room. It's even colder in the bathroom. Apparently, no one in Ireland heats bathrooms, whether its in pubs or in homes. This would have been perfect for the Seinfeld episode on "shrinkage."

We have Gene join us in town for dinner at "The Hunter's Rest." The food is good, the portions are huge, and the service is pretty good. I have to ask Melissa several times before she will try my baked potato. She looks at me as if to say "moron." But guess what? They are better than any potato I have ever had anywhere in the States, including some very expensive places in Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco. It's hard to describe, but they are lighter, fluffier, and better tasting in Ireland. By comparison, Idaho potatoes taste like dirt (no pun intended).

We adjourn to a pub named Spratt's . As we are walking in, Gene asks somebody passing by if the place is popular. "Naw, noboby goes there," says the young guy. He wasn't kidding. We are the only people in the place besides the twenty-something female bartender. The place is huge for a town of this size, but instead of being happy to see someone, we are apparently interrupting the bartender's television viewing time. We go to the back, to play billiards where I lose to Bruce for the first time in my life. Damn, this cancer is really throwing off my balance. There is an excellent jukebox but again we have to ask the bartender to turn up the sound. Nobody else ever did come into the bar that night. Special note to bartender: If you ever read this, I want you to know that you left about 40 Euro (about $55 American) sitting on the table that night because you were too lazy to get off your ass and come serve us drinks.

In spite of this, we are having a great time. We finally go home about 10:00 p.m. Gene truly went above and beyond today. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Touchdown--Dublin

2007-02-26T10:40:00.000-06:00

Friday, February 9, 2007
Dublin

We retrieve our luggage and we manage to get a very small van taxi that all six of us cram into whereupon I immediately direct the driver to the wrong hotel. Surprisingly, my travel companions give me very little crap about this. At 11:00 a.m., we arrive at the correct hotel (100 Euros later), the Clontarf Castle, and after checking in, go right to our rooms. Melissa and I take a power nap of about 45 minutes, then head to the bar. The hotel and bar are very impressive. A lot of old stone, wood and vaulted ceilings. Melissa surprises me by ordering a Smithwick's (Made by the Guinness brewery and just recently available at Cooney's in Des Moines). I order a Guinness, and it really does taste better than it does in the States.

Melissa got us a couple of menus and decided to order what was listed on the menu as tortilla chips and salsa.
"Chips and salsa, please," Melissa said.
"Chips and salsa?", the bartenderess asked quizically.
"Yes, chips and salsa."
"Chips and salsa?"
"Chips and salsa."
"Are you sure you want salsa on your chips?"
"Is there a problem?, asked Melissa pointing to item on the menu she wanted.
"Oh you want tortilla chips and salsa."

As it turns out, "chips" in Ireland are french fries and potato chips are called "crisps."
We had a pretty good laugh about that one with Megan and Bruce, and Ben and Wendy who join us shortly thereafter.

We then took taxis to Davy Byrnes (the "moral pub" from James Joyce's Ulysses) for our first "authethic" pub experience. The place is located in the heart of one of the pub districts and filled up shortly after we got there. It's a neat place, with portraits of famous patrons including Joyce on the walls. Our bartender was fantastic and no one even batted an eye when I broke a glass. We went to dinner and a short time after dinner, returned to our hotel where we collapsed about 8:30 p.m. At about 9:15 p.m., our driver Gene O'Sullivan called to confirm reservations for tomorrow. We slept as soon as our heads hit the pillow.

Our Visit to Eire and Froggy Land

2007-02-25T09:17:00.000-06:00

As many of you are aware, Melissa and I recently traveled to Ireland and France for 15 days, including travel time. This will be dominating my blogs for the probably the next month depending on how I feel, and how much I need to revise it, according to our faithful traveling companions Tonto and Silver (actually Megan, Bruce, Ben and Wendy). If any of you wish to comment on something else or have cancer related questions, feel free to ask them (the questions, not Megan, et al. :-)) .

Thursday, February 8, 2007
Travel Day

We arrive at Des Moines "International" Airport (I think they have one flight a week to Canada), at 10:15 a.m. We print out our boarding passes, check our luggage, and clear security by 11:00 a.m. Our flight doesn't leave until 12:15 p.m., so we adjourn to the bar for a drink. We board plane the plane and depart for Atlanta where we arrive at about 3:00 p.m. EST. The Atlanta airport is modern , but still cramped because of the incredibly narrow hallways and the volume of traffic. My head is throbbing and I'm already wondering how I'm going to make it through this trip. I've kind of worked out this unspoken deal with Melissa, that I don't "play the cancer card" unless it's fairly desperate circumstances. I tell Melissa to go ahead and do what she needs to in order to get us in to the private club. As it turns out, we don't need cancer at all, just $25 per person. All six of us gladly pay for it. Drinks with top shelf liquor are complimentary, conversation is subdued, and best of all, no cell phones. Worth every penny.

Rejuvenated, we board the plane for our 7:00 p.m. flight, then proceed to sit on the tarmac for nearly an hour. Bruce has the best line of the trip so far: "I've got the kind of baggage you can't check." Every time I'm ready to drift off, I'm awakened by Megan's cackles of laughter. 7 .5 mostly sleepless hours later (not necessarily all due to Megan), we touch down in Dublin, where it is 8:30 a.m. Friday local time.

"Oh well ,oh well, I feel so good today...

2007-02-23T09:37:00.000-06:00

We just touched ground on an international runway
Jet-propelled back home from overseas to the USA
. . .
Looking hard for a drive-in
Searching for a corner cafe
Where hamburgers sizzle on an open grill night and day
Yeah, and the jukebox jumping with records back in the USA

I'm so glad I'm living in the USA
Yes I'm so glad I'm living in the USA
Anything you want we got it right here in the USA. "
--Chuck Berry

Like hot water for example. 18 hours of travel time yesterday. I'll start on the adventures of our travels and travails tomorrow.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2007-02-08T05:35:00.000-06:00

..."don't know when I'll be back again."
--Peter, Paul, and Mary

Actually in about two weeks. I'm headed to Ireland with Melissa & a couple of other couples. I'll try to blog overseas but I'm not sure if it will work.

We'll see if I activate the dirty bomb detectors with all the radiation I've had. Appartently, this is a real problem according to some of the cancer "help sites." I'll kiss the "old sod" for all of you.

Friendship

2007-02-06T11:05:00.000-06:00

"Friends come in and out of your life like busboys in a restaurant, ever notice that?"
--Stephen King, The Body, a novella within Different Seasons

"If you threw a party, invited everyone you knew,
You would see . . .
that the biggest gift would be from me,
and card attached would say
'Thank you for being a friend.' "
--"Thank You for Being a Friend" Andrew Gold

"Le sort fait les parents, le choix fait les amis."
("Fate chooses our relatives, we choose our friends.")
--Jacques Delille, French Poet, 1803

I received an e-mail the other day from an old friend, parts of which are reprinted below with permission:

Dear Tom,

When I think about ways that you influenced me and my life. . . well, if it wasn't for you I would have never drunk a Long Island Ice Tea!

Although consumption of alcohol was a frequent activity, it was the conversation that went along that was the most worthwhile. I always felt that you had interesting perspectives and thought provoking ideas. I just remember reflective conversations we had, like the line about how people come in and out of your life like a waiter at a restaurant. Where was that one from? A song I bet.

As a sometimes hyper, enthusiastic teenager you helped keep me grounded. You made me think, reflect, and probably saved me from being ditzy (or at least less ditzy than I was). I could always count on you to be real and even painfully honest. My husband is the same way, will always tell you how it is, which I appreciate.

Will I ever forget when we went to an Iowa Hawkeyes game with your folks?
Reflecting back on that, it probably prepared me for traveling in China, comfort in crowds --- I still remember the masses of people.
But now it is second nature to me as we bop back and forth between China and the US.

Tom, I remember going out drinking with you after working at my day camp job. I would come home tired and you would cajole me into coming out for a drink on the other side of town. Thank God, I always got home safe. But I think you influenced me in learning that your work can't be everything, you need balance and you need to enjoy life when you got it and in the end connecting with people is what counts. That is something you have done well, you have so many passions and are true to yourself, your family, you friends and what you believe. Of course you work hard too, that has also been a passion for you, but you haven't let it overrun you or define who you are. I know that family has always been at the core for you. From my heart, I wish that you find peace in all this turmoil and struggle. I will remember you always.
Love, Cathy

Well- thanks Cathy. That was very nice of you to say. Well, friends do come in out of my life like busboys in a restaurant. But not in a bad way, like I think that Stephen King meant it. Actually, I've been very lucky to have a number of friends who I can not see for months or even years, and we are able to pick up right where we left off.

And in the end, perhaps that's what it all comes down to. Not work or personal accomplishment, but our family, the friends we've had, and the experiences we've shared.

Surprise!

2007-02-01T07:54:00.000-06:00

Yes, we're going to a party, party. --The Beatles

Who in the hell throws a surprise 39th Birthday party? Me, that's who. I had originally planned to do this for Melissa's 40th birthday, but since I probably won't be around, I decided to do it this year. I hired a band that we used to go see in college, the Rich Webster Band, invited some old friends from college who came from as far away as Raleigh, North Carolina, and put out a pretty good spread, complete with 15 lbs. of shrimp and lots of good liquor (there's no excuse for cheap booze :-) ).

The hardest part of this was getting Melissa out of the house for two hours so we could "turn" the room. We had to move a recliner couch, a regulation foosball table (about 400 lbs.), get the food and booze set up, get the band set up, get the guests here and in the basement all while Melissa was gone. Special thanks to the movers, roadies, my sisters and everyone who helped.

The band was fantastic, and everyone danced the whole evening. It was so fun to see people we hadn't seen in years, and I think we truly surprised Melissa. My oldest son Joe kept the secret for about one week before the party. He even helped be a roadie for the band, but was smart enough not to get stuck carrying the amps. :-)

The drummer, who strangely enough is my next door neighbor's brother, was kind enough to let Joe (an up and coming drummer) tap out a few things on his set during the band breaks.

All in all, a perfect evening.

P.S. Free publicity. Many of you inquired into hiring Rich Webster sometime. His e-mail is websterlaw@gmail.com. Telephone (319)358-9899. Address: 212 S. Johnson, Iowa City, IA 52240.

180 Days

2007-01-25T10:08:00.000-06:00

"Because I could not stop for Death----
He kindly stopped for me---"

Emily Dickinson, "Because I Could not Stop for Death", circa 1862.

"I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by."

Douglas Adams, quoted in Guardian, June 3, 2000.

"It is difficult to predict, especially the future."

Niels Bohr, Danish Physicist, in "Statistics", (1975)(attributing quote to Mark Kac).

I think I like the last the two quotes better, even though I always thought (even back in my American Lit. high school class), that the title of Dickinson's poem would make a great name for a rock song, or for a hard rock/heavy metal band.

I took an MRI on January 8, 2007 and learned that my lung cancer has metastasized through the lymph nodes to my brain. When cancer metastasizes throughout the lymph nodes, it gets into your blood stream and starts popping up everywhere. It grows like wildfire and wherever it goes, and your body's organs begin shutting down. So we planned for the following week to do stereotactic radiation (see 1/18/07 post). I had eight spots on my brain that we "zapped", but for every one that we got, there are probably two more we can't see. My oncologist, Dr. Heddinger, gave me a revised life expectancy of four months without additional radiation and six months with. So July 9, 2007, is my new drop dead date.

For those of you saying "but you already had brain cancer", the easiest way I can explain it is this: The "old" brain tumor was non-cancerous, but had to be controlled in order to stop it from crowding out important brain functions like speaking and thinking. It was nearly baseball size when it was discovered, so it had to be operated on. These kind of tumors can grow but not spread.

I received this news the same week we had our lawsuit with The Worst People in the World (see 1/16/07 post). This all occurred while trying to plan Melissa's surprise party on the January 13th (which I will discuss in a future blog). To say the least it was a stressful week.

I've decided that I can handle the physical pain that cancer causes pretty well, but the psychological beating that you take is really something else. It has come to the point where I ought to feel good about bad news, because even worse news is lurking around the corner. And getting no news, well now that's spec-fucking-tacular.

164 days and counting. Bet the over. :-)

P.S. I will need a person or persons to take over writing this blog at some point. They must be be educated, witty, charming, insightful, thoughtful and clever. Which basically means a friend or relative of mine, since you all meet the criteria. Please contact me if you would be willing to do this. Tom

California

2007-01-25T08:05:00.000-06:00

Better than the Bowl Game

I am just getting around to writing this, but shortly after Christmas, we went to Palm Springs to visit Melissa's oldest brother for a few days. It was the first time in six years that we didn't go to the Hawkeyes bowl game. It was raining when Melissa, the boys, grandma and I landed outside of L.A., but by the time we got to their house it was already sunny. Their home it stunning and backs to a PGA golf course. Another of Melissa's brothers was already there with his family when we arrived, and the third brother arrived the evening of the 27th.

We stayed at a beautiful resort hotel near the house, with the Sierra Mountains for a back drop. If any of you ever wondered what a $50.00/couple breakfast tastes like, I can now tell you. But I'll also tell you this: It was damn good. The weather was very nice, and we only ventured out of the hotel and house twice: Once for a casual dinner (we all took turns making dinner the rest of the time) and once to go the grocery store. The kids had a great time playing with their new scooters, football and swimming. The adults had a good time just talking and relaxing. On the 29th, when Iowa played Texas, Melissa's brother went out and bought a bunch of monster cable and moved the flat screen t.v. outside into the shade. Melissa made tailgate items for brunch and dinner beginning with breakfast burritos in the morning and chicken and burgers for dinner. (Hey, I had to fill the coolers with beer, pop and ice). The Hawkeyes actually played pretty well before losing by two points.

As you probably recall, President Ford passed away at that time. He was from Rancho Mirage, which is about two miles from Melissa's brother's home. You could hear the twenty one gun salute from the patio. Very cool. It was a very relaxing and enjoyable time.

Justice is Served

2007-01-19T13:40:00.000-06:00

"Millions for defense but not a cent for tribute."

--Robert Harper

De minimis non curat lex.
("The law is not concerned with trifles.")

Received our small claims decision in the mail today. We prevailed against every claim. In an unusual (but not unheard of ) manner, the small claims court typed out a two page decision detailing why the plaintiffs could not prevail on each of their claims. I think Melissa's favorite part of the decision was as follows:

"The dirtiness of the home appears to have been the direct result of a hurried move. Had the Plaintiff's waited until the agreed date to move, this Court believes the home would have been very clean."

Good news for the weekend.

More Radiation...

2007-01-18T09:40:00.000-06:00

. . .to go with my already glowing personality. Was on the table for about 3 hours yesterday getting the eight brain metasteses zapped. It's called stereotactic radiosurgery. You've probably heard of it's twin , the "GammaKnife" which sounds a lot cooler and is far better marketed. I have to make a decision on the last ditch effort chemo has to keep me alive a short while longer in the next few days. I'm leaning toward no.

Local Readers only: We've got corruption with a capital "C" right here in River City, which rhymes with "P" and that stands for prison. Federal Prison. Without further ado, let me present:

Tom's early line on the CIETC scandal:

Ramona Cunningham--5 convictions, 84 months.

Karen Tesdell --4 convictions, 48 months.

Archie Brooks --2 convictions, 12 months of house arrest due to medical reasons

Jane Barto --1 conviction, probation

The Worst People in the World

2007-01-16T09:00:00.000-06:00

(Or at Least the Most Annoying)

"And that's the way it was: Thursday, January 11, 2007."

--Walter Cronkite

A few of you may know this already, but we were sued in small claims court last week relating to the sale of our house in August, 2005. They sued both Melissa and I as well as my father, who had nothing to do with the drafting or the signing of the Purchase Agreement. The couple that bought the house tried to claim that a stove was included in the deal, even though the Purchase Agreement (which they were given several days to review and were urged to have an attorney review before signing) clearly and specifically stated that a stove was excluded from the sale, and they initialed that specific part of the Agreement.

On Saturday, November 12, 2005, they arrived at our old house at noon insisting that they be let in even though we had agreed to give them possession on Sunday. We were obviously still moving at the time. (This was after we had agreed to close the transaction more than two weeks early for their convenience). We explained to them that we were still moving and after cleaning we could give them possession. They told us they didn't care that the place wasn't clean, they just needed in. (A rainstorm was approaching.) At trial, a major claim of theirs was that the place was dirty when they moved in. In fact it was so dirty, they alleged, that they were unable to move in for forty-one (41) days (no, that's not a typo), and had to pay her mother $1025.00 in rent. Right. Any of you who have been in our house know what kind of housekeeper Melissa is. Despite several claims of how filthy the place was, the best they could come up with was a $50.00 receipt from some friends in Makoquoeta, Iowa, who had to drive down because "there are no cleaning people in Des Moines, Iowa." Right. As part of their forty-nine (49)(again, not a typo) exhibits, they introduced a photo showing a small wastebasket in the 1/2 bath with a Kleenex box in it, and another photo showing that we had left the special cleaner for the Pergo floor in a closet.

The next claim was that we had torn holes in and "ruined" the orange shag rug carpeting in the basement which had been there more than 21 years, by putting holes in it. The holes were there when we moved in, right in the center of the room. They were claiming $2000 for this "damage." Right. Note: these people were in the home at least six times between signing the Purchase Agreement and closing and never once mentioned any problem with the place.

The female part of the couple than began bitching during the trial about how the cupboards were "cheap" and how she didn't like the colors in the place. Makes you wonder why they bought it in the first place. The male part of the couple kept bitching thoughout the trial that they had no attorney and "there's three attorneys over there." I kept thinking "well, you sued two of them you fucking dummy. What did you expect?"

Their case took them 2 hours and 40 minutes to put on (which the magistrates always enjoy). Our defense was 25 minutes. We don't have a decision yet, but, regardless of the outcome, these are:

The worst people in the world for Thursday, January 11, 2007.

Warrior

2007-01-11T20:48:00.000-06:00

"Roland was a warrior, from the land of the Midnight Sun.
Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done."

--Warren Zevon

A New Cancer Term I can Live :-) With*

I've decided that's what I am. Not a "survivor", not a "victim." A fucking warrior. Bloodied but unbowed. It doesn't state or imply surviving, which I won't, but the connotation of having been through several battles even though at some point you lose the war is very accurate, at least in my case.

I've studied the enemy to be best of my ability, consulted with top members of my staff (i.e. surgeons, oncologists and my family), and live with results which are necessarily based on incomplete and imperfect information. Yup, a fucking warrior. That's what I am.

*Full disclosure. The term in the cancer context originated with a Ms. Lorraine Powell who was responding to Leroy Sievers' "My Cancer" column on 1/09/07,Comment 2. http://www.npr.org

Was I here at all?

2007-01-05T09:35:00.000-06:00

"A man has to have goals - for a day, for a lifetime - and that was mine, to have people say, 'There goes Ted Williams, the greatest hitter who ever lived.'"
- Ted Williams

And people still say that. He missed 4 1/2 years due to serving in both WWII and the Korean War and still managed to hit 521 homeruns. He batted .344 in his career, won two MVPs , finished second four times, hit a homerun in his last at bat in Fenway Park, and is the last man to bat .400 in a season. If he's not the best hitter of all time, he's second best behind Babe Ruth.

He was a fighter pilot in the wars and was shot down in the Korean War. He also was a world class fisherman, and quietly did a lot of work for the Jimmy Fund, a children's charity.

On the other hand, by all accounts, he was a lousy husband and father, a real horse's ass whenever he was criticized, and petty.

But people remember him and will continue to remember him long after he's gone. (He passed away in 2002).

Aside from Melissa, and my parents, will anyone remember me ten years from now? I suppose Joe and my sisters will, but will Jack? He's so young, that he'll probably all but forget I was here. I'd like to think that other people would remember me, but I really don't know if I've had that kind of impact, except maybe in a "oh yeah, he was a good guy too" sort of way. I never made it to the U.S. Supreme Court, which was always one of my primary goals. Did I ever make a positive difference in my client's lives? In my children's lives (since I am presumably "moving on up" in the next year or so and they are so young)?

In short, if you leave the planet and no one remembers you, were you here at all?

New Year's Resolutions

2007-01-01T22:00:00.000-06:00

"Ring out the old, ring in the new,
. . .
Ring out the false, ring in the true."

--Alfred, LordTennyson

I've often heard that you are a lot more likely to accomplish your resolutions if you put them in black and white. I've done this with some success in the past, but what the hell, maybe I'll get 'em all accomplished this year:

1. Lose 15lbs.—Weight on 1/1/07 is 208 lbs
2. Read the Bible 20 minutes/day
3. Read James Joyce’s Ulysses before going to Ireland
4. Read 20 books this year
5. Start Walking/Exercising 20min/day
6. Send Thank You Notes
7. Solve a Tuesday NY Times Crossword, then Wed., and so on
8. Write Congressmen re cancer funding in general, and stem cell research in particular
9. Write letter to Melissa and boys
10. B’day cards to boys
11. Be around to make 2008 resolutions

I'll tell you about the California trip later this week.

A Great Christmas

2006-12-26T21:18:00.000-06:00

If this was the Last One, at Least it was a Good One

"At Christmas play, and make good cheer,
for Christmas comes but once a year."
--Thomas Tusser

I truly enjoyed this Christmas season. It probably was the most shopping I have ever done. This unemployed thing is not without its perks. Stress free shopping during the day (and early in the season) at the mall. I even used the handicapped permit I have for parking a couple of times.

Dinner was marvelous as usual (after all Melissa cooked it), the company for Christmas was delightful, and I received a bunch of gifts (almost as many as Jack and Joe!!). The Puerto Rican rum and the Crown Royal Reserve were especially appreciated, as were all of the Books and gift cards I received.

Amongst the other books which she bought for me, Melissa bought me Miriam Engelberg's "Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person." It's great and I have read it already (okay, okay, it is a cartoon book). You can purchase your own copy from Amazon.com but if you need a preview, it's availible on her website, which you can find here: http://www.miriamengelberg.com/comics_mainpg.htm

The lights were brighter, the music better, and people more enjoyable than probably any Christmas since I was a kid. In short a great holiday. Hope to hear from you all soon and hope your holiday was as wonderful as mine.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-22T10:03:00.000-06:00

(and drink your Gin & Tonicah's, cause it's time for Hanukkah)

Not Happy Holidays. Not Holiday Greetings. Merry Christmas. It's a celebration of Christ's birth. My sons' school which we've otherwise been very pleased with has changed the lyrics on the Christmas songs, placing "winter" where Christmas is supposed to go. So now it's the "Twelve Days of Winter" and so forth. Political correctness run amok.

To add insult to injury, this public school is teaching my kid Hanukkah songs. When asked for an explanation as to the discrepancy, we never really got one from the teacher or the school. So, instead of wasting what little time I have left arguing with school administrators about the issue, I went the subversive route: I played Adam Sandler's "The Chanukah Song" for my older son knowing that by the end of this week every 5th grader at his school would be singing it as well. :-)

Thanks for the help on the rain songs. I can't believe I missed the Prince, Led Zep and James Taylor entries. Must be chemo brain. I trust no one cheated by using iTunes, Napster, Google and the like. I mean, hell, I can do that. I actually came up with four more on my own that oddly enough, weren't mentioned by anyone:

No Rain Blind Melon
I Love a Rainy Night Eddie Rabbitt
Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head B.J. Thomas
Fixing a Hole The Beatles

BTW, there's a new link on the left. She's funny and clever, and unfortunately, recently widowed due to cancer. Check out her blog.

"For there is born to you this day in the City of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."

Luke 2:11

Surprised you mom, didn't I? Merry Christmas!

Couldn't Stand the Weather

2006-12-20T17:14:00.000-06:00

That's that the title of a Stevie Ray Vaughn album (or as Wendy (26 years old) calls them, "Big CD's"), but the weather here today is just plain, old fashioned, crappy. It is currently 35 degrees and raining on the shortest (2nd shortest?) day of the year. The only weather I hate worse is when it's real cold (like negative 20 degrees farenheit with a wind chill of about 40 below).

One thing I've been doing between researching my cancer, planning trips, planning my funeral (but more importantly my Irish wake) :-) is thinking up themed CD's. I have one entiled Rain and here's what I have so far:

Rain

1. Like the Weather Natalie Merchant and the 10,000 Maniacs
2. Who’ll Stop the Rain CCR
3. Rain The Beatles

Any Suggestions?

P.S. to Aaron: How you coming on your top 25 all-time albums? I'll give you two of mine: The Who, Who Are You? and Alanis Morissette, Jagged Little Pill.

Don't Look Back

2006-12-14T12:58:00.000-06:00

"Don't look back. Something might gaining on you."

"Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching."

"You win a few, you lose a few. Some get rained out. But you got to dress for them all."

Can you match these quotes with the people that said them?

Wrong. They are all attributed to Satchel Paige, the great Negro League pitcher. Satchel was both a great quote and perhaps the greatest pitcher of his generation. Though he didn't get to pitch in the major leagues until he was 45 years old, he acquitted himself well, going 6-1 with a 2.48 E.R.A. to help Cleveland to the 1948 pennant. He pitched regularly until 1954 when he was 50 years old. A major league lifetime ERA of 3.29. Amazing. I knew the first quote came from Paige, wasn't sure about the second, and thought the third quote was from the movie Bull Durham. I should have known that Hollywood writers were too dumb to come up with a line like that.

Anyway, people seem to want to know "how you got cancer", as if it was some social disease. Damned if I know, and it doesn't really matter anyway. The fact is I have it, and I need to deal with the cards I've been dealt. There's something that Melissa and I did at the outset of this ordeal back in late 2002. We made a deal that win, lose or draw, we would not ever second guess our decisions because: (1) It can drive you insane; and (2) It's pointless. The current situation is what it is, and no amount of second guessing is going to change that.

Our last visit to the doctor didn't go so good. My lung is still filled with crap, and the brain MRI discovered a couple of small metasteses, including one on the brain stem. It looks like the end game is in sight, but we'll try to find the right balance between quality vs. quantity of life. Don't look back.

General Observations

2006-12-07T09:28:00.000-06:00

"Do you ever notice that....?"
--Andy Rooney

That the brightest, most articulate couples that you know are always the ones that can't have children or least have trouble conceiving them, whereas every trailer park family has six kids with collective I.Q. of about 70? And let me tell you, as someone who represented a fair number of these people, it ain't because they don't smoke and don't drink.

That the problem with cancer blogs is that your friends keep dying? It makes you think you're bad luck after a while.

That the font size of mail notices that say "IMPORTANT" or "DO NOT DISCARD" is in direct inverse proportion to their actual importance? The IRS never stamps that stuff on their notices.

That when you are behind some moron driving erractically they are invariably on a cell phone?

That when someone is talking too loud in a public place, the conversation is never interesting even though the person wants us all to hear it.

That the losers from your high school all ended up with good paying federal jobs. Unfortunately, they all ended up with the same job, working at the TSA screening for dangerous people like the 90 year old lady in the wheelchair (and 60 year old judges :-) ) and dangerous carryons like shampoo and toothpaste.

That customer service is an oxymoron? I have a Pioneer Airware unit (basically a portable XM unit) that cost probably $250-300 new. I enjoyed the unit but springs that hold on the back door sprung. After 1 1/2 hours on the phone, I was told that "It's not a warranty issue." I called the boss, had to leave a message, and he finally called me back a week later. This is for a part that costs $9.44 on their website (retail).

That people with those Bluetooth phones and headsets are some of the most self important people you will ever meet. I always walk up to them when they are in mid-conversation (of course it's always in public that they have these things) and ask them if they need help landing the Boeing 767. Well, not really, but it would be pretty funny, wouldn't it?

That people are now more shocked when people display common courtesy such as saying "please" and "thank you", open a door for them, or letting them pull in front of you in traffic, than they are by expletives. I guess common courtesy really isn't that common anymore. Maybe we all should see if we can shock a few people this holiday season.

Have a good weekend. Feel free to add your own "did you ever notice" in the comments section.

Back from Philly

2006-12-05T11:05:00.000-06:00

The Sights and Sounds from the Birthplace of A Nation

Got back from Philadelphia late Sunday. Dad and I flew out with "The Uncle" and my aunt. It was beautiful (about 70 degrees and Sunny) when we got there. We were met at the airport by my aunt's friend, Gar Joseph, who's a newspaper columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News , and he drove us back to the hotel after we waited 1 1/2 hours for our luggage to be unloaded from the plane (thanks American Airlines).

We went out to dinner at Spasso's, at Gar's suggestion, and it was great. After, dinner Dad and I had a drink at the Penn View Bar & Grill, across the street from our hotel. On, Friday, we went to see Constitution Hall, the U.S. Mint, the Liberty Bell and the Building that initially housed the U.S. Supreme Court. The Supreme Court shared the building during this initial time period with Philadelphia Municipal Court so the courtroom had a jury box and a prisoner box.

I also had my first real Philly Cheesesteak at a hole in the wall convenience store located somewhere around 12th and Market. It was awesome!!

On Saturday, we went to the Army-Navy game at Lincoln Finanical Field. My cousin Tim is a cadet at West Point. It was very cool with all of the pagentry including Navy jets and Army helicopters buzzing the stadium, the cadets in their dress blues (Navy) and grays (Army), (attendance is mandatory), great bands and 70,000 of the best behaved most polite football fans you've ever seen. The only person who swore the whole day was me and that was only one "goddammit" when the Army QB let his 2nd interception fly (which was returned for a TD). It was a good game until there were about 10 minutes left. All in all, a very good time. On Sunday, we came back after getting a picture with "Rocky" at the Philedelphia Museum of Art. Our first flight was cancelled (thanks again, American Airlines) so it took a while to get back.

The football Hawkeyes are playing Texas in the Alamo Bowl. They're gonna their collective butts kicked.

Once again, Steve Alford's underacheiving basketball team (has their been any other kind since this asshole has been around?), achieved yet another "first": the first loss to UNI at home in 25 years, which if memory serves, makes it the first loss since Carver-Hawkeye was constructed.

On the cancer front, I felt okay this weekend, and felt real good yesterday(I actually did some Christmas shopping).

With fear and arrogance (or maybe it's ignorance?),

Tom

Feelin' Alright (Not Feeling Too Good Myself)

2006-11-27T09:46:00.000-06:00

SEEMS I'VE GOT TO HAVE A CHANGE OF SCENES
CAUSE EVERYNIGHT I HAVE THE STRANGEST DREAMS
IMPRISONED BY THE WAY IT COULD HAVE BEEN
LEFT HERE ON MY OWN OR SO IT SEEMS
I'VE GOT TO LEAVE BEFORE I START TO SCREAM
SOMEONE LOCKED THE DOOR AND TURNED THE KEY
FEELING ALRIGHT
I'M NOT FEELING TOO GOOD MYSELF

--Joe Cocker

Long time, no write. Lots of news to catch up on. I started on a massive dose of steroids (80 mg/day initially) and have been tolerating them remarkably well. These are Prednisone which different than what I had been taking (Decadron). I have been sleeping 6 1/2 hours night without any of "Mother's Little Helpers" (Lunesta). I do sleep a couple of hours longer with the Lunesta, but despite what they say, there is a hangover effect. The steroids appear to be working, and my cough has all but disappeared. It reappeared over the weekend, but seems to be better on Monday, worse on Tuesday and Wednesday. We took a picture of the lung. A little bit of improvement but not much. Going to continue on the steroid course until further notice.

We had a great Thanksgiving this year. Melissa outdid herself with dinner, and I think most everyone agreed. The only bummer was that it was so good that there wasn't any leftover gravy, and only about 2 lbs. of turkey (out of 22 lbs.) left. The leftovers after everyone is gone is one of my favorite parts of Thankgiving. Given that the over/under on my life span according to the doctors (and most of the medical literature) is up on November 12, 2007, I can't help but thinking that this was my last Thanksgiving, next month is my last Christmas, and so on. I usually don't dwell on this stuff, but I have been crying a lot lately and not sleeping very well the past few nights.

My youngest sister, Stephanie, got engaged on Sunday onher drive home to Chicago. It's nice to have some good news for a change. She's talking about a wedding in Des Moines in August which works out well for me.

I'm going to the Army/Navy football game in Philly this weekend with Dad. We're leaving tomorrow morning bright and early. It should be a good time.

[P]Neumon[itis]

2006-11-14T20:02:00.000-06:00

The Operation was a Success, But the Patient Died

"Hello, Newman."--Jerry Seinfeld

"What, me worry?"--Alfred E. Neuman

I thought I had something simple like pneumonia, but NO-O-O-O. It now appears that I have something called pneumonitis which is an inflammation of the lung tissue, caused by either radiation or possibly chemotherapy. I'm going to confer with Dr. Heddinger tomorrow, but he was ready to go with the steroids without seeing me. We've basically ruled out everything else already. Treatment consists of a 3 month course of massive amounts of steroids. I'll basically be up 21 hours/day between now and February 15. I'll say hello to Santa for y'all.

P.S. for "the uncle"--Passing the drug test at the NFL combine is going to be a bitch.

Feedback and...

2006-11-14T09:05:00.000-06:00

the Hawkeyes on Cheap Street.

It's been nice getting feedback from everyone I know and don't know. Talking to a wall, while it can be therapeutic outlet, does eventually get old once you figure out the wall isn't going to say anything back no matter how long you talk. So thanks for the feedback everyone near and far.

We had our huge family and friends tailgate (roughly 20 people) for the Hawks' last home game. They disappointed as they have all season, once again blowing a winnable game. What a disappointing season. I lasted about 1 1/2 quarters inside the game, and then came out and watched the remainder of the game from the van we rented on the stadium big screen. It was nice seeing family and friends that we don't get to see very often. It looks like the Hawks and their families will be spending Christmas in Detroit for the Motor City Bowl which, if memory serves, is on December 26. Uh, thanks, but as tempting as that sounds, I think Melissa and I will be sitting this one out. For the first time in six years, we will miss the bowl game.

We will being going to Minneapolis next weekend to see their finale against the Gophers for Joe's birthday. I hope they do well. Joe is bringing three friends with him and we'll be staying over Friday night because of the 11:00 a.m. kickoff.

Good News (Really!)

2006-11-10T14:35:00.000-06:00

Melissa chastised the doctors into getting the results to us today, and we were told that there is no additional cancer in the lung! There is a bacterial infection so hopefully the antibiotics I'm on now will kill that. The coughing up blood is apparently a "normal side effect" of the bronchoscopy. Hopefully, we'll get more complete results on Monday, but this is about the best news it could have been, so I'm pretty happy. I think I may go to the game tomorrow.

What the hell happened to me?

2006-11-09T09:45:00.000-06:00

I went to Doctor's today for more tests. Tuesday, they took another X-Ray and all the white crap in the right lung was exactly as it had been the week before. I guess I'm done with chemo now.

Dr. Heddinger had referred me to Dr. Greg Hicklin a pulmonary specialist and a good guy. After reviewing the X-ray, he concluded that their definitely was some sort of viral thing going on, and possibly additional cancer, so we needed to swab the inside of the lungs. Apparently, excepting Dr. Hicklin, it is a requirement that all other other doctors and other employees in the pulmonary field have a surgical removal of their personality before they begin working in the field.

They decided to put me under and started taking samples of all the crap in my right lung. They blew air into the lung and apparently stirred up some shit because I started running a fever which reached as high as 103.8 before finally breaking earlier this morning. My throat hurts from the tube they stuck down there yesterday, and it hurts to talk. I'm on some new antibiotics so hopefully these do the trick or else I probably have pneumanitis and will have to have a three month course of steroids.

Vote Early

2006-11-07T09:28:00.000-06:00

and Vote Often. I let you all in whatever the hell's wrong with me when the docs get around to figuring it out.

Courage

2006-11-06T19:52:00.000-06:00

The most overused word in the dictionary

"Mr./Ms./Mrs. ______________ died Monday following a courageous battle with cancer." Nearly every obit you see where a person died of cancer starts this way. I don't feel courageous and neither does anyone else I know that has cancer. People who have fought in wars, don't feel courageous either from what I have seen and heard. Even decorated vets typically say (if they talk about it at all), "I was just doing my job. " Having cancer is a lot the same. You do what you have to do and move on.

And generally speaking annoucers that use this word when referring to athletes, and (God help us) athletes that use this word when referring to themselves need to be smacked. The day it takes courage to be paid $5 million a year to go across the middle, you can sign me up.

Maybe my obit can start, "Mr. Clarke died of cancer Monday like 550,000 other Americans will this year, and over five million have during the past decade. Severe underfunding of basic research at the federal level, and ignorance and/or intentional misrepresentation by various governmental officals of what would occur if stem cell research were allowed and funded at an adequate level, contributed to his death."

The Fear is Gone

2006-11-03T18:56:00.000-06:00

Crash Davis: "You gotta play this game with fear and arrogance."

Nuke LaLoosh: "Right. Fear and ignorance."

Crash Davis: "No. Fear and arrogance, you, hayseed, not ignorance!"

Nuke LaLoosh: "I know. I just like to see you get all worked up. "

--Bull Durham

Andy Dufresne: "I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living, or get busy dying. "

Red: "Get busy living... or get busy dying. That's god damn right..."

--The Shawshank Redemption

Fear. Everybody has had it. Fear of getting fired, fear of not getting the promotion, fear that we love someone who may not love us back, fear of having and raising kids, fear of dying or fear of living alone, fear of pain, and so on. However, once I got the diagnoses that I was a bonus winner in cancer game (that's two primary cancers (brain and lung) for those of you keeping score at home), the fear is gone. All of the fears I had before the lung cancer diagnosis are gone. They are completely irrelevant to my life now. The only real worries (not fears) that I have are that I don't have enough life insurance for Melissa and the boys and whether or not I'm going to heaven, hell, or purgatory. (At least I think purgatory is still an option in the Catholic church).

The fear has been replaced with an almost overwhemling feeling of sadness that I feel at times. Sad that Melissa and I won't grow old together and I won't be able to drive her crazy by wearing dark socks with tennis shoes all the time. Sad that I won't see the boys grow up and graduate from high school, college, and graduate school. Sad that when Melissa and I talk about our future and living in a condo downtown somewhere after the kids are grown, it seems about as likely as winning the lottery.

But nevertheless, I've decided to play the rest of the game with arrogance (or hell, maybe it is ignorance) because the fear is gone. But averages are just that. The Clarkes have always been above average, so I'm planning on outliving my November 2007 "drop dead" date. We're getting busy living and making travel plans for 2007 and hopefully 2008 pretty soon.

Without fear, but with arrogance (or maybe ignorance), I'll see all of you soon.

Tom

Last Minute Election Issue

2006-11-02T13:43:00.000-06:00

What you should know about Stem Cell research

If you are still undecided on who to vote for, or which side you should be on on the stem cell research, here are some additional resources. An article entitled "Stem Cell Politics" from the New England Journal of Medicine can be found here:

http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/355/16/1633?query=TOC

A pretty dry article from the same source regarding FDA Regulation of stem cell research is here:

http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/355/16/1730?query=TOC

A quick and dirty rundown of the issue can be found here:

http://www.wired.com/news/technology/medtech/0,71401-0.html

and this is just plain interesting for those of you that think it's a political issue:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/3700015.stm

and this link is funny in the sense that I stumbled upon it in a footnote from a familyresearchcouncil.org position paper, wherein three of the four doctors in the citation actually support expanded research into stem cells. The fourth doctor is employed by the Family Research Council:

http://commerce.senate.gov/hearings/witnesslist.cfm?id=1323

Stem cell research probably won't do me any good personally (I expect my time to be up before any cures are found), but it is the right and moral thing to do. Thanks again for taking the time to look at this stuff.

Tom

Good News :-)

2006-10-31T08:29:00.000-06:00

An entirely appropriate Halloween blog

According to the latest statistics available from the Center for Disease Control (2003 figures, released 4/19/06) , I'm going to live to least age 45. Or at least, I'm not going to die of cancer before age 45. Only 2,478 people a year die from "Malignant neoplasms of [the] trachea, bronchus and lung." I'm more likely to have an Acute myocardial infarction (3094 deaths/year), Chronic liver disease and cirrhosis) 3020 deaths/year), die in a car accident (6961 deaths/year) suicide (6602 deaths/year), accidental poisoning and exposure to noxious substances (6230 deaths/ year) and homicide (3110 deaths/year) than I am to die from lung cancer.

My friend Aaron, age 27, is even more likely to make it to age 35. Only 154 people per year in his age bracket die of "Malignant neoplasms of the trachea, bronchus and lung." In fact he is far more likely to die of diabetes (657 deaths/year in his age bracket), any number of heart diseases, pneumonia (360 deaths/year), boat/airplane accidents (243 deaths/year), falls (watch your step!) (285 deaths per year), drowning (356 deaths/ year), and "accidental exposure to smoke fire and flames." (252 deaths/year)

For those of you with the same twisted sense of humor as me, you can check it out yourself here:

http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr54/nvsr54_13.pdf

The stats start on page 30.

Last chemo treatment today. I'm not looking forward to it. I've been coughing up brown shit for a week.

And now for something completely different:

I went to a political rally for Chet Culver yesterday (he's running for governor in Iowa) be cause the topic of the day was stem cell research and Michael J. Fox was speaking. He was pretty funny (even though he appeared to be in rough shape) but I really didn't learn anything. It was first and foremost a political rally. I have some more interesting stuff on stem cell research I'll try to get posted before next Tuesday in case any of you are undecided on who you're voting for.

Go Irish

2006-10-24T11:37:00.000-05:00

A Thriller in South Bend

About the only upside to this whole being on disability/terminal illness thing is you get to say "screw it" and start doing a s many of the things you always wanted to do in life as you can. One thing I always wanted to see was a Notre Dame football game. My friend Bruce gave me a birthday gift of two tickets and his chauffeur services for the weekend, and so my older son Joe and I went to the game.

Once my new oncology found out I was going he invited us to his tailgate (He went to N.D. as an undergrad and is a season ticketholder). I mentioned that if he had an extra ticket, we could use one. Lo and behold, the good doctor called Friday night with an extra ticket for Bruce. Joe went swimming at the hotel while I watched.

On Saturday, we went to campus early and all bundled up for what we expected to be a cold and rainy day Joe had on his N.D. jersey. The campus is beautiful. We saw the "Touchdown Jesus" on the library and Joe got his picture taken in front of it. We then we to the Eck Center hoping to get a campus tour, but they don't give them on football weekends despite what the website says. Joe wanted (and we purchased) a book from some old (Class of '44) N.D. alum who was hawking his book inside the center. He autographed the book for Joe , and then we went next door to the bookstore. It was an absolute zoo, but Joe found an instant camera and a "fan pack" (pennant, bumper sticker, and pin) for himself, and rather selflessly picked out a very cool green #83 jersey for his little brother. (More on that later.) We did get Joe a stocking cap for the game, too.

Coming out of the bookstore, we ran into the cheerleaders and the N.D. Leprechaun. Joe got his picture taken with the latter. On our way to the doctor's tailgate spot, the pep band and the Irish Guard came by. We got closeups of both. At the tailgate, we were introduced to the doctor's family members, other friends, and his fiancee's family. They were all very nice people and the two of the doctor's future brothers in law took Joe to meet the team coming out of Mass. Joe got to high five Brady Quinn (the QB) which had to be quite a thrill for him. At the tailgate, I took a shot of Crown Royal, from my Grandfather O'Brien's flask and said a silent prayer for him in the direction of Touchdown Jesus which was visible from our tailgating spot. Grandpa O'Brien, prior to his death in 2004, had advised Joe to go to college at N.D. After awhile, nature called so to speak. The doctor advised us to go to the second floor of the Joyce Center, where there were absolutely no lines. No lines for the bathroom on a football Saturday??!! Now that's a doctor who can inspire confidence in his abilities! :-)

We then went to the game where a lackluster N.D. team who could not run the ball (35 carries, 41 yards) got the ball back on their own 20 yard line with 1:02 to play and zero timeouts, trailing 17-13. The people behind us (who had been bitching about head Coach Charlie Weis the whole game), left after the Irish turned the ball over on downs with 2:25 left to play. I joked to the person next to me that "they must be (Los Angeles) Dodger fans, too." After two complete passes to the UCLA 45 yard line, Quinn hit #83 Jeff Samardzija (pronounced "sa-mar-ja") who broke off his route and ran a 15 yard flag inside, broke two tackles, and stumbled on his way to the end zone. He scored with 27 seconds to play. Final score: Notre Dame 20, UCLA 17. So Joe was omniscient enough to get his brother the star player's jersey in the very cool green color.

All in all, a great weekend.

Vote!

2006-10-16T15:10:00.000-05:00

Stem Cell Research

I am doing something I've never done before. I'm asking you to vote based this November based upon your Senators and Representatives Votes for or against House Resolution 810 (Stem Cell Research Enhancement Act of 2005). As you may be aware, President Bush recently vetoed the bill that had easily Passed in both the house and the Senate. The Bill passed the House 238-194 and the Senate 63-37.

This is a serious issue.
"Lung cancer is expected to kill 162,000 Americans in 2006. Nearly 19,000 people will be diagnosed with brain tumors and nearly 13,000 will die from them, while ovarian cancer will kill more than 15,000 women this year."http://virtualtrials.com/news3.cfm?item=3651 That's a city the size of Des Moines dying every year, folks from just those three kinds of cancer. I think government statistics put the total from all cancer deaths at about 250,000 annually, but I don't have a link handy for that.

I recommend that you educate yourself on the stem cell issue by reading the following article recently published in the New England Journal of Medicine: http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/355/12/1189?query=TOC

Here is the text of the bill:

http://frwebgate.access.gpo.gov/cgi-bin/getdoc.cgi?dbname=109_cong_bills&docid=f:h810enr.txt.pdf

Everyone from the ultra-liberal Diane Feinstein to arch-conservative Trent Lott voted for the bill. Unfortunately, President Bush vetoed the bill basically citing three things:

1. Human Embryos are sacred and shoudn't be used for research.
2. That adult stem cells offer as much promise as embryonic stem cells.
3. That embronic stem cells have not shown much, if any promise.

To which the answers are:

1. The fertility clinics are currently throwing the unused embyros in the garbage. That proves life is sacred??!!
2 and 3. Read the New England Journal Article for a refutation of these arguments.

Here are the links for how each member of Congress voted:

http://www.senate.gov/legislative/LIS/roll_call_lists/roll_call_vote_cfm.cfm?congress=109&session=2&vote=00206

http://clerk.house.gov/evs/2005/roll204.xml

In Iowa, we do not have a Senate race this year (although for future reference Harkin voted for H.R. 810 and Grassley voted against it). Otherwise, in Iowa, its a straight party line vote with the Democrats in favor of H.R. 810 and Republicans against it. This includes the seat vacated by Jim Nussle (who voted against H.R. 810) with Democrat Bruce Braley in favor of H.R. 810 and Republican Mike Whalen stating that the veto of H.R. 810 was proper and that he doesn't believe in government funding of reasearch. Caveat: You should check on how your own representatives and senators voted on H.R. 810. As stated above, several Republicans did vote for H.R. 810 so if you're not in Iowa, you need to check for yourself on how he or she voted.

In all likelihood, anything that develops from this research will be too late to save me, but with 250,000 this deaths a year, this issue will affect everyone at some point in their life. While I've never been a one issue voter in the past, I believe that this issue is important enough to change my self imposed "vote for the best candidate" policy. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Tom

The Joys of Chemo, Part II

2006-10-16T15:08:00.000-05:00

My Cancer Story
I had forgotten about the nasty little itchy rash that appears about three days after chemo. I've been taking Benadryl to kill the itch, and it seems to help somewhat. The rash goes all the way around my waist on my upper chest and back, and this time I have a few spots on my legs as well. Aaahhh, Chemotherapy, let me count the ways I hate thee.

The Joys of Chemotherapy

2006-10-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

My Cancer Story

Ah, chemotherapy....It's hard to imagine that just 940mg of carboplatin and 360 mg of taxol could bring so much pleasure. Whether it's sleeplessness, hair falling out everywhere, acne all over my back, or just general malaise, this has been a real treat. Took my taxes up to my accountant the other day, and he told me that when his mother was undergoing chemo (she has since passed away), they took a family trip to Minnesota, and while everyone else was being eaten alive by mosquitoes, they wouldn't touch his mother. See the comments regarding "medicine" below.

My joints are hurting today. Took the sleeping pills my Rx prescribed and actually have had back to back nights of decent sleep. Haven't had any glow in the dark butterflies in my sleep yet, though. Having friends over for dinner tonight. I'm going to get back on my regimen of killing those little bastard cancer cells my way: with Crown Royal.

As an aside, I'm giving up for now on trying to figure out how to work the links thing on the left of this page. Please go see my friend Aaron's site at:

http://wheresmyp53.blogspot.com/

He is 27 years old, a recent law school grad (God help him) and has the same kind of lung cancer I do. Please check it out.

Plagarizing myself plagarizing Pink Floyd

2006-10-11T15:02:00.000-05:00

Was pumped of chemo yesterday. Feel like shit. Still need to do my taxes. What's passing for semi-insightful commentary today is a comment I made on another blog a couple of days ago. Without further ado my comments on time left to live:

You're right. Everyone with cancer thinks about it. Whenever I think about it, I am always always reminded of the lyrics from Pink Floyd's Time:

Ticking away the moments that make up a a dull day

you fritter and and waste the moments in an offhand way

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown,

Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain,

You are young and life is long and there is time to kill to today

And then one day you find ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

There always to be too much time when youre young and too little as you grow older. Cancer teaches you to priortize in a hurry.

I Hate Cancer- Speak

2006-10-06T09:41:00.000-05:00

I am neither a "victim" nor a "survivor." Victimhood is for whiners and say what you will about me, I am not a whiner. A bitcher maybe, but not a whiner. Survivors are for events of human action or inaction whether intentional such as wars or Nazi death camps or unintentional events such as auto accidents. So far as I know, nobody passed the cancer bug onto me, so I am not a survivor of anything. This leads us directly into the next term I hate, which is "cure."

The doctors, no matter learned in their specialty or subspecialty will not "cure" me. When you are talking about cancer, living five years (after diagnosis, not after treatment begins, so as to inflate the Rx's self-congratulatory studies) is considered "cured." Of course, just like George Orwell's Animal Farm, some cancers are more equal than others, and therefore if I make it to May 10, 2008, (two years after diagnosis of lung cancer) I am cured of lung cancer. Doesn't
really matter if I buy the farm the next day, I've been cured, dammit.

Giving you "medicine." Any doctor, nurse or anyone else who says this ought to be smacked. It's poison you're giving me, and you and I both know it. There's a reason you're standing on one side of the six inch thick lead door and I'm on the other. There's a reason humans who abuse every other substance known to man, natural or man made, aren't stealing carboplatin from hospitals. I understand the theory that maybe this stuff will kill the cancer before I die of poisoning, but don't insult my intelligence and call it "medicine."

Things to be Thankful For

2006-10-05T10:31:00.001-05:00

After my rant the other day, it occurred to me that I probably sound like an ingrate because a people have done a ton of nice things for me as detailed below. I am sure I've left out a number of people and things, but at the risk of offending the people I've inevitably left out, here goes nothing:

I am thankful for my wife Melissa whose incredible inner strength has allowed me to make it through 68 radiation treatments and a bunch of chemo treaments . I could never make it without you, Hon. I promise the next decade will be better. :-)

I am thankful for my two boys for being respectful, polite and helping out when we need them to.

Thanks to Bandstra, Bellus, Carpenter, and Dinkin for getting me out to lunch/beer once in a while.

Thanks to my parents for watching the kids when Melissa and I can't find a sitter. Thanks to my mother in law Shirley, for the same.

Thanks to Megan for the same and for calling me every once in a while.

Thanks to the Halseys, Jacquez's, Dornackers, Carpenter's, and Bellus' just for being good friends.

Thanks for everyone that gave us food and/or gift certificates when I was going through radiation. It helps a lot.

To Mom and Dad for not offerring advice on medical decisions and for pointing out that although the average lifespan of a lung cancer patient may be 12-18 months from diagnosis, the Clarkes have always been above average in everything.

To Blake and Kathy for offering to let us stay at their home every time we're in Chicago.

To people at the City who donated sick/vacation time to me and who still include me in their lunch plans.

To everyone who has helped cart our kids around.

I know that I've omitted numerous people and the things they have done.

Thank you.

Stupid Shit That People Say

2006-10-03T13:25:00.000-05:00

I realize that people are often shocked by the news that you have cancer, but the following advice (unless solicted by the person) and platitudes should be avoided , becuase they don't help and tend to piss the person with cancer off. Without further ado, here's a partial list of actual comments to me and my wife:

1. "It's God's Will," or it's close cousin "everything happens for a reason." These seem to be favorites amongst the holy roller crowd. Response: Did you ever consider that God missed and tagged the wrong fucking guy? Is that so inconceivable with five billion people roaming the planet?? Did God make you fat and stupid for a reason or do you just eat too much and not study in school?

2. "You have to take it one day at a time." I decided to take it three days at a time, thank you very much, you dope addled AA/NA freak.

3. "God never gives you more than you can handle." Oh yeah, why are there so many suicides then? Also see #1 above.

4. "My ___________ (mom, sister, grandparent, friend, etc. ) had ____________ cancer and he/she decided to undergo radiation/chemo and is just fine now." Well, that solves it. I guess I'll just depend on your mom's (sister's, etc.) judgment on what I should do for my more serious and completely different cancer. Bruce, who is one of my best friends, actually told me in 2002 that he thought I should undergo brain radiation because his uncle had undergone radiation (for testicular cancer) and it had worked for him. I told Bruce that as much as I appreciated the comparison of my brain to his uncle's balls, I had decided to defer radiation.

5. Offers to help. Don't make them unless you intend to follow through. I actually had one friend who called me about 45 minutes before I was scheduled for an oncologist appointment (which he had agreed to take me to 2 weeks earlier) and asked me to reschedule the appointment because he was busy at work. "Uh, yeah, I'll get right on that. It's not like time is of the essence or anything." Offer to do what you can, get me out of the house for a lunch or a beer, but don't offer to do things (like mow my lawn, for another example) if you're not going to follow through. It makes more work for me and my family than had you not offered in the first place.

6. "You don't look like you have cancer." There's a special circle of Hell for these people (and yet you know that they have never heard of, much less read Dante's Inferno). What exactly am I supposed to like? The less offensive version of this is "you look good." While it's nice to hear if you're feeling okay, but if you feel like shit it takes on the air of the old skit on SNL "You look mahvelous" (by Billy Crystal I think). Ask how I'm feeling first, and then comment if the situation warrants it.

7 . "Come on down." Well, people don't really say this, but I swear every every waiting room in America has that goddamned The Price Is Right blaring at about 120 decibels even though no one is watching it. If you ever read a headline that Bob Barker and Johnny What'shisname (the announcer) have been murdered, my picture will be right next to the article. No jury will ever convict me.

Catching up

2006-10-02T23:48:00.000-05:00

It's been about a week since I last wrote. Taking the Claritin that Dr. Heddinger suggested took care of the rash after about five days. I went and saw the U of I get their heads handed to them on Saturday by Ohio State, but we had a good time. My wife, Mom and Dad, sister Megan, brother in law Blake and his son, as well as my friend Bruce that I share tickets with, his sister, brother in law, and father all tailgated. We parked in the handicapped lot which is literally 20 feet from Kinnick stadium. I've been busy working on my 2005 taxes (I filed an extension) because the previous radiation (68 treatments this year) and chemo treatments have not afforded me the time or willpower to file yet. I've planned a trip to Ireland for my wife and I, and two other couples for February. That has also kept me busy. I'll begin writing more after taxes are done.

Anniversary

2006-09-26T14:36:00.000-05:00

9-25-06

Went out to dinner (appetizers and drinks actually) with Melissa for our 13th anniversary. I got her roses and a couple of cards, but she got the Sunday Ticket for me. It's really cool--I love it! It was an enjoyable if a little bit of an early evening. My mom watched the kids.

9-26-06

Went and saw Dr. Heddinger about the rash that began showing up over the weekend. He said it could be a reaction to the chemo or could be due to new allergens affecting me because the chemo can alter the white blood cells. Doc said to get some Claritin and keep an eye on it.

Prologue

2006-09-25T09:44:00.000-05:00

My Cancer Story

Prologue

I am currently 38 years old, married to a wonderful woman, Melissa, and have two great sons, Joe and Jack who are 10 and 6 years old. I am an attorney who graduated from the University of Iowa with a B.B.A. in Finance in 1990 and a J.D. (law degree) in 1993. I was self employed from 1993 through 2005, and then I worked for the City of Des Moines from 2005 until I became unable to work in 2006. As of the date that I have begun writing this, I have been given 17 months to live. I am feeling overwhelmed right now—I am trying to pack a lifetime worth of experiences for myself and my family into the next twelve months or so (while I am still relatively healthy) while simultaneously working on this story, applying for disability insurance, writing goodbye letters to my boys and wife, planning my wake and funeral, and seeing to financial arrangements. Plus my fantasy football draft is in 13 days. J

Tom Clarke
August 10, 2006
Des Moines, Iowa