Two links of note today. This one should amuse you (http://tatewatkins.org/post/988662739/im-working-cheryl), as I certainly got a kick out of it - if only because his dog and my sister share a name. “This is my moment, Cheryl!” Good for the gentleman dancer featured herein. Enjoy your 15 seconds of fame.
On a more somber note, here’s a sad tale that I pray ends well and brings some closure to people that deserve it (http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/randy-white-fights-to-expose-cancer-cluster-near-frederick-maryland/19588039).
GBM, Other
The one and only reason that I don’t loathe rats as much as the general population does is because rodents seem to be quite useful for studies like this (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38629161/ns/health-cancer/). Keep it up, rats. We need you.
Also, while this picture has nothing to do with anything, it is certainly good for a chuckle. It’s true what they say. The family that wears mismatched sweatsuits together, stays together.
GBM
I wish it didn’t have to go down this way, or better yet, I wish this sad story never happened. Lesson learned, I hope. There are consequences for everything. (http://www.pennlive.com/midstate/index.ssf/2010/08/middletown_teacher_who_police.html)
GBM
Two years ago at this point in time, the words glioblastoma multiforme meant absolutely nothing to me. If I had to guess what those words meant, I probably would have wagered that Glioblastoma Multiforme was the name of a character in the Transformers movies. How wrong I would have been. As we’ve all now come to know, glioblastoma multiforme is certainly not a fictitious character, but a heinous and deadly disease that crept into our lexicon at a time when I least expected it. Since that day I imagine that few people have read more about GBM than I have. What still strikes me though is the same ignorance that I once had still prevails throughout the overwhelming majority of the public. It is stunning how often I read that GBM is “the most common and most aggressive type of primary brain tumor in humans”, or that GBM is “the disease that killed Senator Ted Kennedy.” Both are facts, of course. GBM is a deadly killer, and it did claim Sen. Kennedy as one of its victims. What stuns me however is that those two facts are needed in every article that I read. More than anything, the inclusion of those facts in literature about GBM is proof that awareness of glioblastoma multiforme is nowhere near where it should be. After all, do you ever read in articles about people named James that James is ”the most common name in the United States,” or in pieces that mention guns that “guns are what killed President Abraham Lincoln?” Or are we just well aware enough of common things and known killers that they don’t have to be defined every time? GBM is not at that point yet, and I’m certain that before we can cure it, we all have to know about it. I thank you for your awareness.
GBM
Since I have been nothing if not honest since I started this blog in November, 2008, I have an admission to make. My guarantees are evidently worthless. Yesterday I was so bold to guarantee that I would run after work (eight miles, no less), and I failed to deliver on that guarantee. Mother Nature showed me that it is she, not me (nor Tony Danza), who’s the boss. Rained out from running yesterday I hit the elliptical machine instead, hopefully postponing my eight mile run until tonight, if Mrs. Nature cooperates. However, while I’m not proud that I misled you, I hope we can all agree that my deception pales in comparison to the lies told by this woman (http://abcnews.go.com/TheLaw/pennsylvania-teacher-year-nominee-busted-faking-brain-cancer/story?id=11182230). Simply unconscionable.
GBM, Other
I am neither smart enough nor eloquent enough to offer appropriate public prayers for my friend Jeff today. That said, Jeff and his wife, Sherry, are in need of all of our private appeals right now. Jeff underwent another brain surgery today, and all of my thoughts and prayers are with him, his family and supporters at this time. Please join me in praying for a true warrior in the daily battle that is raged on cancer. God be with you.
GBM
While I identified on Friday that my recent trip to Duke marked the one-year point since I was last treated for the brain cancer that I’ve now conquered, I failed to identify the exact date of the anniversary. Maybe the precise date isn’t all that important - give or take a day or two - but there must be a reason that we celebrate birthdays and anniversaries of all types on the exact date on which they originally occurred. I wasn’t married on September 5th or 7th - it’s the 6th that is special. September 21st and 23rd are just ordinary days to me, but the 22nd happens to be my birthday. With that in mind, yesterday is the true date to celebrate. On July 10th, 2009 I spent a few hours with toxic, life-saving chemicals gushing through my veins. One year later that’s all but a memory - a horrific memory, but one that I choose to reflect on often. Remembering where I came from makes me do everything in my power to ensure that I never go back there. 366 days later, I’m far removed from the hell from where I escaped. Never will I return.
GBM
Attaboy, Justin! Thank you for taking our fight all the way to The White House. You are destined for greatness, and this is a massive step…
(http://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/obama-with-the-assist-98102199.html)
GBM
One of the truly amazing aspects of our every-two-months trips to Duke is that close to twenty months after our first visit we have yet to have two visits alike, with nary a dull moment in all of our time spent in Durham, NC. This last trip fell right in line with the rest in that it was nothing like any of them. Each trip is the very definition of unique – unlike any other.
This last trip came replete with my lowest-ever measured heart rate (48 beats per minute), and the unexpected delightful news that while I was anticipating having the frequency of my visits reduced to every-three-months from every-two, instead I’ve been liberated to the tune of a visit just once every-four-months – thereby slashing my total yearly visits from six to three. I wanted to be clear with the great people associated with the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center that my delight in seeing them less often is a bittersweet joy. The social aspect of our visits is what makes these trips oddly fun. That said, only a sadistic soul can truly revel in a MRI scan. The less, the better, for me.
Most remarkably (for them, anyway) is that indications are now that the chances of that bastard GBM returning are less than five percent. This news, considering the typical 18-months-to-live prognosis, was reason for fist-pumping and high-fiving across the room amongst family and medical personnel alike. As for me, I politely indulged. I didn’t have the heart to correct the group. The fact of the matter is that I decided long ago that I’ve been cured. Everyone else can celebrate the less than five percent chance of a return. I’ll know that it’s really less than zero.
Our delayed visit to Durham certainly didn’t disappoint, as it was notable for all of the reasons above. However, what struck me most on this last trip was an unexpected drop-in from an old friend – my social worker (http://briansereno.com/?p=207) – who made me smile my biggest smile on a day when I was already filled with so much joy. Upon seeing her I was fully prepared to remind her of the fact that she once encouraged me not to author this blog. Silly me for thinking that she needed reminding. Not only was she well aware of that conversation, but she so emotionally told me what a convert she had become, and that this blog is actually recommended reading now for some of her patients. I couldn’t have been more honored. With that in mind (and considering yesterday’s vocabulary lesson), I’ll admit to being anything but humbled. I was proud. I felt significant. I feel like I matter. What a trip.
GBM
As promised, here are a few pictures from yesterday’s trip to Duke. What I’ve failed to deliver on, however, is the aforementioned descriptions and accounts (which I hope will be worth your wait when I get to them tomorrow). In the meantime, how could you be mad at someone who can still find joy in the little things in life, like eating ice cream out of a mini-baseball helmet at Baskin Robbins? Our traditional visit to Noodles and Company is also pictured.
Thanks Chrissy!
Whole grain Tuscan linguine with parmesan crusted chicken
GBM