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Credit goes to the urban philosopher Curtis James Jackson III for the title of today’s post. So sang Curtis, “some days wouldn’t be special, if it wasn’t for rain.”

It’s not my specific intent to bring any sadness to this blog, as I’d most certainly rather regale with you about my great fortune in the aftermath of my unfortunate diagnosis. That said, sorrow is a part of living as death is a part of life, and on Friday the world laid to rest legendary women’s basketball coach Kay Yow (http://sports.espn.go.com/ncw/news/story?id=3871641); a woman who put another face on a sinister illness that will menace a quarter of all Americans in their lifetime.

Kay’s life was filled with so much joy in her time, but was cut sadly short by a foe that we all hope to obliterate. It’s for all of us like Kay – not just the wealthy and powerful, famous and glamorous, revered and adored, but for all of us humans – that it is important to always be mindful of the simple joys of life.

My joy today came with another return to normalcy. I haven’t completely kicked my cold just yet, but I urged myself to return to work today, and my productivity therein made me feel better, in and of itself. I believe that I’m now on the mend with my cold, which I’ve learned in my war with cancer is at least half of the battle. However, I do need to cut this blog short tonight as the bed is now screaming my name. Without proper sleep, my one-step forward today could be undone by two steps backwards tonight. Good night.

GBM

On numerous occasions since I was diagnosed with cancer in early November, I have remarked to myself or anyone that would listen that the truest oddity of my situation is that if after the surgery that removed the good-for-nothing tumor from my inside of my brain, on most days I’ve felt healthier than I’ve ever been.  I’ve introduced new regimens into my life that have health-ified (made up word) my entire lifestyle, and my perspectives have changed in a way that I now appreciate the smaller things in this great life much more than I ever have.  I’ve also made a conscious effort to remove all stresses, angst and frustration from my world – and generally speaking, my days ever since have been filled with joy and happiness.  It also continues to strike me as odd that while the cancer that temporarily invaded my system has to be classified as the most serious illness I’ve ever endured, if it weren’t for the reminders from my team of caregivers, I’d no longer have any inkling at all that I’m not well.  Surely I trust the multiple diagnoses, but because I can no longer actually ‘feel’ the illness, I’ve longed for the days of simple head-colds when I didn’t need a doctor to diagnose my dilemma. 

Well, as the saying goes…be careful what you wish for.  I have since contracted a nasty cold strain that kept me from work yet again today.  I did my best to work from home…though I was interrupted every 10-minutes by the necessity to blow my nose.  I coughed and sneezed on my computer countless times, and tried to disinfect it before realizing that I couldn’t re-catch my own cold.  The summation of my day is that I spent it in relative agony – not as bad as the itchy ears of last week, and not nearly as bad as the headaches that first hospitalized me – but bad enough to limit the good things that happened to me today to three (or five) things. 

1) I woke up.  Each day is a good day. 

2) Eventually Jessie returned home from work. 

3) We tried mashed cauliflower with dinner in replacement of mashed potatoes.  Thanks to “Favorite Uncle” for the suggestion.  They were quite good.

4) Editor’s addition: I had the pleasure of talking to Chrissy.

5) Another editor’s addition: Cheryl called to check up on me, though I failed to call her back.

Hopefully I’ll have more good things to speak of tomorrow.

Other

I’ve never felt such a kinship with drug-sniffing dogs in England as I do now.  I learned today of the sad tale of Max – a crime-fighting canine that met his demise through nose cancer by sniffing out scores of cocaine over the years.  I found it particularly notable that in speaking of Max one of his human colleagues said that it “is ironic that the wonderful organ that made him successful in his work has been his demise.”  Isn’t it strange how that works?  I’ll fall short of calling my brain a ‘wonderful organ’ – seems to me like that would sound arrogant – but it is undoubtedly the organ that I use most at work.  Where Max and I differ – in addition to the fact that I have 50 percent less feet than he did – is that my afflicted organ won’t be my demise.  This is an interesting tale though – one that can be read about here (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/us_world/2009/01/27/2009-01-27_drugdetecting_police_dog_dies_of_nose_ca.html) – so on a day when my runny, congested nose has made little if any improvement from its cold-ridden state of yesterday, I’ll just be grateful that it’s a mere head-cold rather than another form of cancer that has gripped my nasal cavity.  In my daily objective to help my body fight this insidious disease, while I now know that I wasn’t eating, exercising or sleeping properly for much of my life, I do know that I was doing at least one thing right.  Thanks to a great upbringing – and a friendly reminder from the D.A.R.E program’s Officer Edison in sixth grade – I made the wise decision never to use cocaine.  What a decision.  Max wasn’t so fortunate.

(Editor’s note: Since this post was published last night, my dear Mom has weighed in privately on the subject matter.  To clarify, I never had to make a “decision” whether or not use cocaine…I was taught long ago to never even put myself in a position where the obvious decision was necessary.  Also, in fairness to Max, he didn’t decide either.  Poor Max was surely never given a choice.)

Other

My weakened immune system is trying to fight off its second head-cold of the winter season (hopefully I’ll avoid anything more severe), so on a snowy day in The District, I decided not to make the fight harder on myself by venturing out in the winter weather.  I don’t like to miss work – though I’m certain that I made the right decision today – and I do plan on returning to work in the morning if my health and the winter weather permits.

Without making the trek into DC today, I was afforded the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep in the form of an afternoon nap…I was spared from making the decision of where to eat a healthy lunch amidst all of the unhealthy eateries around work…and I had ample time to work from home while still finding the time to exercise, blog and prepare myself to get to sleep at an earlier hour than usual.  I suppose the truth is that if I wasn’t congested, coughing and with a sore throat, I’d be altogether great right now.

Tomorrow will continue my off-week in terms of my treatment routine.  With no medications, appointments, labs or anything else of that sort this week, I expect to have an uninterrupted day in the office.  So while the details of my life can’t carry an entire blog entry today, I’ll leave you to read this article instead.

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/06/30/the-11-best-foods-you-arent-eating/

Beets, cabbage and sardines certainly aren’t for everybody, but cinnamon, blueberries, turmeric and pumpkin shouldn’t be too problematic to digest.  Eat well.

Other

I recall mentioning previously that the effects of radiation worked like clockwork.  I lost my hair after 12 treatments…as expected.  I began to feel a hint of fatigue on the day of my 20^th treatment…just as I was warned.  My ears became dry and insatiably itchy towards the end of the treatment regimen…right on cue.  So, as I’ve been warned that radiation will still be effective long after treatment stops – thus the reason that my hair isn’t predicted to return for at least another 4-6 weeks – I’ve been told to expect to feel fatigued in the coming days as well.  As true as radiation has been to its word thus far, I’m certainly not taking anything for granted.  On the heels of a 14 ½ hour game night workday (9 am – 11:30 pm), I find myself at home now, but wary of the warnings that have been thrown my way.  I’ve been careful to take extra precautions as far as my health is concerned, and I’m eating like a rabbit and exercising like a hamster as a result.  Now it’s time to sleep like a bear.  If I can still expect radiation to fatigue me from time to time, far be it for me to aid the process by unnecessarily tiring myself.  I’m upbeat, spirited and enthused – just cautious.  The rest of the details of my life will have to wait until tomorrow.

Other

Certainly ‘Weekend Update’ is better delivered by Seth Myers and Amy Poehler – or better yet, Norm MacDonald, my personal favorite all-time ‘Weekend Update’ host – but unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me, and the update of my weekend is filled with significantly less hilarity than SNL’s fake news.  That said, I digress…my weekend was as follows.

I was treated by the visit of four out-of-town college classmates since Thursday night; three of them Dekes.  While my restful yet playful weekend was interrupted slightly by Friday’s Avastin regimen and clinic visit, yesterday and today proved to be a return to a good mix of sleep and fun.  I ate well, slept well, had the itch in-and-around my ears subside almost entirely, and enjoyed watching a Syracuse basketball game on TV today, despite the 10-point loss suffered by the Orange. 

As much as I love most sports – hockey being a notable exception – I’ve found myself lately being infinitely more entertained by the game itself than preoccupied by the outcome (with the Wizards being the lone exception to the rule).  The line between sports and entertainment is no longer indelible, and in many respects has been erased entirely – possibly explaining why most athletes want to be actors and rappers, and most actors and rappers want to be athletes.  Sports are entertainment – particularly during troubled times – and can provide welcome diversions from reality in three-hour doses.  For the subject of the articles linked below, sports were something to live for.      

People like Katie Shearer put everything into perspective for me, and are the embodiment of what sports fans should be.  May I never forget her struggle.   

http://www.oregonlive.com/sports/oregonian/john_canzano/index.ssf?/base/sports/1230216907312750.xml&coll=7

http://www.oregonlive.com/sports/oregonian/john_canzano/index.ssf/2009/01/katie_shearer_24_blazer_fan_wi.html

Other

As I’ve been relaying the useful information gleaned from Jessie’s endless research over the last two-plus months, I’ll continue the trend on one front today, as the following information is most certainly useful.  The article however – which can be read in its entirety here (http://www.lef.org/magazine/mag2005/jul2005_report_diabetes_02.htm) – that I borrowed tonight’s tip from came courtesy of “Favorite Uncle” rather than Jessie, who also passed along yesterday’s gem of a story about Joshua Bell. 

I was of the belief until recently that foods that came from the earth in their natural state are by nature good for you.  Thus, I had a hard time believing that potatoes don’t fall into the healthy category.  “Favorite Uncle” to the rescue.  He recently sent me the previously linked article that used a scientific explanation to convince me that despite my beliefs that all of Earth’s goodies bring a nutritious benefit, potatoes are in fact one of the exceptions.

The article explains that foods that are rich in carbohydrates are digested and converted into glucose for the body to use as energy.  Carbohydrates, proteins and fats are the cornerstones of most diets, with carbohydrates being found in abundance in foods like grains, beans, fruits and starchy vegetables like potatoes.  However, some carbohydrates are absorbed quite rapidly and thus lead to dramatic spikes in blood sugar levels – like the carbohydrates found in white bread, candy, and yes, potatoes.  Since these foods are also relatively low in nutritious content – lacking essential vitamins, minerals and fiber – they just aren’t logical sources of carbohydrates.

More reasonably, the complex carbohydrates found in whole grains, beans, fruits and green vegetables – which are broken down by the body at a slower rate and thus increase blood sugar levels at a safer and healthier rate – promote a healthier existence.  Not so coincidentally, these foods are also great sources of fiber, minerals and essential vitamins.

In terms of food anyway, it’s best to live by a simple slogan – “It’s Not Right if it’s White”.  I’ve recently replaced white bread in my diet with the healthier alternative of multi-grain.  Sweet potatoes or yams now stand in for the more popular white potatoes.  Bleached white pastas have also been eliminated, with similarly tasting multi-grain pasta having been added to the equation – and sugar has been eliminated entirely, sent to jail without passing ‘Go’ and forfeiting its right to collect $200.  Sugar really isn’t so sweet after all. 

As for me, my day was calm and easy – spent in the company of friends that I’d place a picture of herein if I only knew how (Jessie is sleeping).  My ears have soothed to a ‘3’ on the itch scale.  I ate right, exercised my body and mind, and continued to try to make the most of my existence.  With any luck tomorrow will bring more of the same.

Other

On a late night in the DC suburbs, I’m not feeling particularly interested in blogging today.  I happen to be in an extremely good mood – if not a great one – and I’m not especially tired either.  On my newly invented “itch scale”, my ears are registering in the 4-5 range, which is tolerable, I suppose, but still annoying to be sure.  I had an uneventful trip to the oncologist’s office today for my biweekly infusion of Avastin, and we confirmed that our upcoming trip to Duke will take place on February 4-5, thus giving me the next week and a half to be, act and feel normal again before my treatment regimen resumes.  All in all, it was a very good day – compounded by the fact that I’ve been in the company of great friends this evening.  So why don’t I feel quite up to blogging?  I’m just not sure that I could even remotely measure up to the story below, passed on to me by “Favorite Uncle”, summed up by an unknown author, published in The Washington Post, and written by a Pulitzer Prize winning scribe.  Knowing that I won’t be able to add to this truly remarkable tale, I’ll just say this: take some time to stop and listen to life’s music.  We don’t realize what we’re missing when we rush our way through.  

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.  A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.  A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.  Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

Other

This morning proved to be every bit as rewarding as I had hoped that it would be – augmented by the fact that I was presented with a “Super Patient” sticker, celebratory brownie, and certificate of achievement on my “Graduation Day”.  I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t proud of myself, as I most certainly was – however, while you can celebrate in the dugout after a home run in the first inning, you must also be cognizant of the long road ahead.  I closed a chapter today, but a new one immediately opened – as I’ve barely made any headway in my book of life.  So while I did take the opportunity to acknowledge my accomplishment today, I’m ever-mindful of the long road ahead both for me and for my brethren that fight side by side with me against an appalling foe.

While I won’t have to go for radiation tomorrow morning at 10:15, I was cautioned today that the effects of my ordeal will stay with me for some time into the future.  Evidently I can expect to feel fatigued for another 4-6 weeks, and I shouldn’t anticipate any new hair growth for at least that long as well.  The cumulative toll of radiation is such that it will continue to do its job long after the daily treatments stop, and for that reason I’m not out of the woods as far as its side effects are concerned either.  That said, as I’ve been spared from the worst of it thus far, I’m hopeful that my run of luck will continue.

As for my next step – a question that I’ve been asked a lot of late – I’ll continue to take it day by day.  Thursday will be treatment free…as will most of my days between now and February 6^th, with the exception of this Friday.  I am scheduled for my next biweekly infusion of Avastin on Friday, which will mark my fourth such IV.  After that, my last week of January will include nothing from a treatment standpoint, ideally marking my most normal week since the last week of October.  It will be a strange feeling I’m sure to spend an entire week treatment free…no radiation, no Temodar, no Avastin…just normalcy.

Beyond that, my forthcoming days are somewhat unknown.  I know that I’m scheduled to visit Duke again on February 4^th and 5^th – a timetable that I’m trying to slightly adjust so that I can work at the Wizards game on Wednesday the 4^th.  I saw my four-year streak of perfect attendance at Wizards home games snapped in November – a streak that included all preseason, regular season and playoff games dating back to the start of the 2004-05 season – and I have every intention on having a longer streak to boast of five years from now.  However, as much I’d be disappointed to have to start a streak anew if I’m forced to miss an upcoming game, I do realize that cancer doesn’t monitor the Wizards schedule as closely as I do.  It remains to be seen what kind of success I’ll have in navigating that crowded course.

Regardless of when I return to Duke, an MRI awaits me that will serve as my ‘baseline’ brain image for the remainder of my long days.  This MRI will be compared to all future MRIs – which will be taken every few months as long as I shall live – to monitor what we hope and pray is zero change or abnormalities in this noggin of mine. 

I also know that I’m slated for my first infusion of Irinotecan on Friday, February 6^th – setting me on a course to receive my biweekly IVs of Avastin and Irinotecan on the same days twice a month.  Temodar will also come back into play in the future (at three times the dosage, but for just one week every month), but plenty of time remains to further discuss how that will all unfold.  In the meantime, I’ll be treatment-free and proud of it tomorrow, as the next chapter begins for me. 

My final walk into the radiation room

Where I'll wait no longer

Super Patient

Free at last

Thanks Mom and Dad

GBM

On a historic day in America – a day that I spent alternating between my bed and couch for the most part – I too was captivated by the history being made on television, but I couldn’t help but think about tomorrow.  This time of transition at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue has been a transient time for me as well.  I was first hospitalized on Election Day – a day in which much of the country exercised with hope their right to choose our next leader – while I just hoped that the debilitating pain that started in my head but resonated throughout my body would somehow subside.  While I didn’t quite have the wherewithal to grasp the enormity of the moment (for me or for our country) on November 4^th when I was brought to the hospital, I have since regained my cognitive ability to comprehend the significance of tomorrow.  While Barack Obama and I spent November 4^th in drastically different moods, we’ll both spend our days tomorrow in a key moment in our fights.  President Obama will kick-off January 21^st as our Commander in Chief, trying to tackle the grave issues that our country faces in his first full day in the Oval Office.  Meanwhile, at 10:15 am just 12 miles away from The White House, I’ll line-up in a Victory Formation, about to complete my personal annihilation of radiation.  Yes, what begins tomorrow for Obama concludes tomorrow for me – a challenge of a lifetime (though in truth, many more challenges are ahead for me as well).  I just can’t help but think about how I felt 32 treatments ago, when I was sure that I’d ultimately triumph in my fight, but 33 treatments seemed to be an eternity away.

As I look back on it now, radiation – like almost everything else – is an another example of my anticipation vastly exceeding reality.  I will never say that radiation “isn’t so bad”.  Far be it for me to even consider minimizing an experience that has been so brutal for so many.  I’ll just consider myself to be extremely fortunate, as I was spared from the worst of it – albeit with more help than I could ever have dreamed of.  In truth, while it’s a fortunate coincidence that I was granted a four-day weekend at just the right time when the fatigue from radiation finally hit me in a tangible way, I’ll walk out of radiation tomorrow generally feeling healthier than I’ve ever felt.  I extended my workout-streak today to a number that I’m still not exactly sure of (most likely in the vicinity of two weeks), and though I made my once-a-week red meat allowance to enjoy a steak with French Fries tonight, on account of my improved diet my entire being feels much better than it did when I typically ate whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to. 

It will be a bittersweet moment when I exit the radiologist’s office tomorrow, with the ‘sweet’ feelings stemming from the fact that I was cared for so well in the Cancer Center section of the hospital over the last seven weeks.  However, as the Cancer Center is housed within the same complex that I was initially taken to on November 4^th, I could one day win the lottery within that facility and still not have fond feelings of the place.  Hospitals have never been a favorite of mine – despite the fact that others in my immediate family have flourished professionally therein – but this hospital in general shouldn’t expect to find itself on my Christmas card list.  The EMTs speculated that I was just dehydrated on my way there…my former primary care physician had the audacity to tell me “you’re young, I’m sure you’re fine” as I agonized on an Emergency Room gurney…and Jessie wasn’t afforded even a minute of rest as she sat with me all night while I was heavily medicated, because my roommate, Mr. Martinez, called the nurses into our room every five minutes to tell them that he was having a heart attack.  Fortunately for him, he never was having a heart attack.  He was probably just scared, as most people surely are when they set foot within a hospital. 

So feel free to celebrate with me around 10:40 tomorrow when I leave the last of my radiation treatments behind, but be mindful of the poor souls still stuck within.  I’ll be joyous but reserved.  Victorious in a battle, but with a war that won’t be won until everybody’s suffering ends.

GBM