Beauty

That's what she said she found on the morning of her young husband's death. 42 years old, he was, with 2 school age children and a wife, even younger than he.

It was only about a year from the time he was diagnosed with renal cell cancer to the night he died. His wife is my new hero. She stayed with him till the very end, barely taking time to rest, less she miss one of those ever more rare moments of lucidity where she might snatch a kiss, a look, a smile.

She did all this while continuing to teach and raise her two young ones.. and to try, somehow, to make them understand why this ugly fucking disease was slowly taking away their Daddy.

This was a hard one.

At the end, she said his passing had been a beautiful thing.

I will always remember Sarah and Chris who found beauty.

God damn this disease forever.

"It Came From Hollywood!"

Well, I'm back from Hollywood. What a depressing city that is, especially near where the hospitals are (there are so many, mostly Kaiser hospitals there, I call it Hospital Row.. it's like the Las Vegas strip sick people.)

Got my brain zapped in 3 spots. I don't know if it's had any effect on me or my thinking. I do feel sort of odd but that may be just due to stress and so on.

My advice to you is avoid getting a brain tumor if you can. It's not really all that fun.

You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.
~ Pink Floyd

So just barely a month after my surgery, I've already got more shit in my brain.

That didn't take long, did it? That is pretty fucking fast if you ask me.

My son asked me if my religious views have changed since all this cancer nonsense started. I had to tell him, no, I'm still the same old unbeliever I've always been. I'm not an atheist, exactly.. I just can't seem to bring myself to believe in god simply on faith alone, no matter how comforting it may sound. He's going to have to show me something if he wants my vote.

If he wants to punish me by sending me to hell or whatever for feeling that way then so be it. I can't decide something like that based on a threat.

But I'm not anti-religious and I'm willing to admit that He could exist. I just doubt it a lot.

Anyway, it looks like I could be finding out the truth much sooner than I'd like.

It seems they've found more lesion in my brain.. as many as 4. Two for sure and two more tiny "maybe mets". This is some scary shit.

But I'm not really afraid of dying, exactly. Oh, I'm plenty scared of pain but being the old agnostic that I am, oblivion sounds kind of comforting. All worries gone for good.

But I don't want to leave my loved ones sooner than I normally would. Most of all, I don't want my wife, the love of my life, to be all alone.

No, what I'm personally afraid of more than anything is of something happening to my mind. This is why I've decided to refuse Whole Brain Radiation - I'd rather be dead than sitting here mumbling and drooling on myself. (That's an extreme, over-stated example - I know most patients that do WBR do not get that bad..).

Still, the whole idea scares the crap out if me.

So tomorrow we are heading up to Hollywierd to find out if they can zap my brain mets individually with their Novalis machine. We were unable to talk Kaiser into sending us to UCSD for the treatment, unfortunately. (the bastards).

If they succeed in getting control or eliminating the brain mets then I can start thinking about getting my lungs treated.

Cancer Sucks!

"I need all the peepers I can find
cause I'm the harvester of eyes..." ~Blue Oyster Cult

I'm feeling halfway decent these days. Still having trouble with certain things. Typing is still difficult.. when I look over what I've typed, it's often so bad that even the spell checker doesn't know what to make of it. I do things like type an entire paragraph and then realize I've been typing "g" in place of "m" with results like, "Gy Gother picked up a gallon on gilk while she was at the garket" (My Mother picked up a gallon of milk while she was at the market).

Needless to say, this yields some pretty comical gibberish. Sometimes I don't notice for several paragraphs but I'm learning to stop and reread often. This makes writing take quite a long time but hell, what else have I got to do with my time?

No news on the medical front. I had the brain MRI yesterday and will get the results next week. If it's clear, then I'll be heading to see Dr. G after my ct scans, also next week, these of my torso or CAP (chest, abdomen, pelvis).

I imagine I'll find out then what comes next - lung surgery, IL2 treatment or whatever.

I saw the optomologist (sp?) 2 days ago and saw a graphic that shows my vision loss. It looked something like this:


The blackened out sections represent areas where my vision is completely gone. I reckon that's a loss of about 50% on the right and, what, about 20% on the left. This is most likely permanent, I'm told.

It seems pretty band when you see what I've lost on paper but really, it's not all that bad. I can see as well as before in the unaffected areas, as far as I can tell and that's really not that bad.

I've even been driving a bit though the Doc advised me to be very careful and to stay off the freeway. But at least this will mean that I can return to work at some point, hopefully. Though I doubt I'll be able to do my old job.

--snip--

I may have mentioned this before to you but I'll say it again though it's a painful subject, to say the least.

I have been the worst kind of fool. I kept smoking long after I knew what it was doing to me. I had severe bronchitis, near pneumonia several times and still I smoked. My wife quit and begged me to quit too and still I smoked. That was 20 years ago when my son was born.

In 2004, I was diagnosed with kidney cancer and, much to my shame and embarrassment, still I smoked.

I was sneaking around and hiding my smoking like a teenager smoking in the boy's room at high school. I was 44 years old.

I was very embarrassed and ashamed that I was still smoking and I imagined that no one knew. Of course they knew. You can't hide that smell from a non-smoker no matter how hard you try.

People were polite enough to pretend along with me though, for the most part.

2 years later they found the nodules in my lungs and incredibly, still I smoked.

Every night I went to sleep in fear and swearing that I would never smoke again - every morning I would eventually go buy another pack. Sometimes I'd fight it for a while but most often I didn't even bother to try. I felt hopeless.

There were periods of not smoking as long as a year or more spread through out this story but I always ended up smoking again at some point.

On my tombstone, they should just put up a drawing of Joe Camel.

When they told me they needed to cut my chest open to do the lung biopsy last month (or was it 2 months?) I quit again for perhaps the hundredth or maybe thousandth time. I have not smoked since.

When the brain tumor presented itself in early feb. 2007 , I had been not smoking for barely 2 or 3 weeks. I have not smoked since but I am already getting occasional cravings and I am terrified that once I'm all healed up and feeling my old self (if that ever happens), I'll smoke again.

I don't *think* I will and I'm sure as hell not planning to but..... (Of course, if I ever do smoke again, I won't have to worry about cancer cause if my wife found out, she'd surely kill me herself ;) )

By the way, feel free to share this post with anyone you know that smokes or even if they don't, especially young people.

So did my 35 years of smoking cause my kidney cancer? There is no way to ever know. You can draw your own conclusions but I know what I believe.

Maybe if I had stopped after my original diagnosis in 2004, I'd still be sitting safe at Stage 1 instead of where I am today. Like a fool, I never believed that something this bad it could happen to ME and even if I had, it may not have helped because I was as addicted as any hardcore junkie is to his needle.

--snip--

"People with brain metastases eventually succumb to them..."

So says the esteemed Dr. Nostradamus. Dead man walking, in other words.

I don't know if he's right... he's the brain surgeon, after all, not me. But I don't feel like I'm dying. I feel like I'm getting better in many ways. I know that stage 4 kidney cancer is not going to just go away but I also know that some people outlive their dire prognosis by many years.

Brain Salad Surgery

So I woke up this morning at 3 AM with headache that was beyond belief. No, it didn't quite rise to the level of the headaches I had when they found the brain tumor but it was of epic proportions just the same.

Thank god for my friend, Mr. Percoset. I don't want to think about what it will be like when I run out of those.

More later...

Ok, now that that's done, we can talk.

First, a warning to anyone reading this - I don't plan to hold back much of anything. Some of what you read here may be upsetting in various ways, especially to any of you that are family members or loved ones.

If this concernes you, you may want to move on.. I post in several other places such as the kidney-onc List if you want to read my ramblings....

Otherwise, come on in....

My brain is fucked up. I can process out ok but input is hosed. I am facing trouble with reading and comprehension.. I am not only partially blind but have some confusion as well.

My thought process seems mostly ok aside from the occasional hiccup but please be patient with my spelling and logic.

What I've typed so far in this post. for example, has taken me about 20 minutes so far. Like I said, I'm all fucked up.

I don't know if my vision problems are permenant but it's starting to look that way. Time will tell.

Some that know me would be amused to know that one of the most distressing parts of this whole thing is that my computer gaming days may be at an end.

This with Vanguard having just released. (it's like World of Warcraft if you need a reference) All this and I'm crying cause I can barely play the video game I just bought.

If you spent as much cash as I have on computer hardware, you might cry too.

I'm needing a break now.. Will try to write more later.

Hello..

You may start hearing from me more now.. there is certainly plenty to talk about.

To start us off and to save time, I will simply paste from a "List" post which should serve to get us updated on the situation...


--snip--

Anyway, I got some more info today...

The tumor was, as expected, single Clear Cell met to the brain (the left occipital lobe), completely ressected.

I still have a 1cm and 1.8CM met one in each lung, growing but slowly. I had been in the process to scheduling the removal of the lung mets when the brain met was discovered and pretty much killed that idea..

Once treatment decisions have been reached for the brain, I will enter treament for the lung mets, most likely HDIL2.

I think that about covers it. I am not keen on WBR but have not ruled it out.

He also mentioned some sort of partial or targeted radiation but kept complaining that this went against "standards of treatment" and wold not recommend it.

He also said we could simply do nothing and see what pops up and deal with it as needed but was even more against this option. This option also scares my wife too much and will probably not be used.

We are seeing Dr. Gailani at Riverside Kaiser as well but I believe he is sort of staying out of the debate as far as my poor old brain is concerned but will be handling the parts of my treatments that are not part of radiology but I may be confused on this part.

Lastly, (and perhaps most importantly)we've decided to see Dr. Figlin at City of Hope for at least a single consult and 2nd opinion. We will attempt to make Kaiser eat this but will pay out of pocket if we must.

--snip--

Here we go again...

Well, they took some more pictures on Oct. 11 and this time, I was sure all would be well. After all, in August, when I was so worried, the scans came out as good news - no progression.

This time, once again, they are showing growth. From 8mm in August to 12X14mm in October. This is not a good thing but I have to wonder..

Last March, they said the largest nodule was 8mm. In June they said it had grown to 12mm. That's when I became concerned.. In August, they said it was stable at 8mm.

WTF? So did it grow, then shrink, then grow again?

Or is there variance in how the machine catches the nodules. I've read that there are though I can't recall the technical explanation at the moment. Also there could be variance in the way the radiologist reads the scans.

So is it growing or not? Who the hell knows. I have to assume that it is.

Fun stuff...

I'll find out on the 23rd of Oct. what, if anything will be done this time. As much as I dread things like needle biopsies and surgery or treatment, I'm gonna go nuts if I have to wait and wonder for another 3 months.


Cancer sucks!

So as it turns out, the nodules in my lungs had no growth this time around.

Good news for a change.

Of course, better news would have been that they'd shrunk some or disappeared altogether but as I've come to know, that is pretty unlikely.

Still, I asked Dr. G if there was still some chance that the nodules are something other than recurrent cancer and he said, yes. How much of a chance, I have no idea. At the previous dr. visit, he had said that it was possible but unlikely.

So it's back to waiting.. They'll scan me again in November. I'm trying to get my brain out of Worrying Mode and back into Living Mode in the mean time.

I'm tired..

Tired of being afraid.
Tired of not feeling well.
Tired of being angry.
Tired of being sad.
Tired of feeling like I'm coming apart.

Tired of my own self-pity.

So anyway.. here's some lyrics to a song from my youth that apply to a certain young person that I know...

Waiting for the winds of change
To sweep the clouds away
Waiting for the rainbow's end
To cast its gold your way
Countless ways
You pass the days

Waiting for someone to call
And turn your world around
Looking for an answer
To the question you have found
Looking for
An open door

You don't get something for nothing
You can't have freedom for free
You won't get wise
With the sleep still in your eyes
No matter what your dreams might be

What you own is your own kingdom
What you do is your own glory
What you love is your own power
What you live is your own story
In your head is the answer
Let it guide you along
Let your heart be the anchor
And the beat of your own song

You don't get something for nothing
You can't have freedom for free
You won't get wise
With the sleep still in your eyes
No matter what your dreams might be
~ Peart

As I approach the end of August, in which I will discover if my life is about to take a dramatic change.. I think I'll try to write in here more. I really need to get my head on straight.

Here's the deal.. In March of '06 on my regularly scheduled CT Scan, they discovered 3 tiny nodules on my lungs. There was a strong possibility that these were mets (metastatic cancer) from my original kidney cancer diagnosis (see earlier posts from '04).

But, said the doc, they could be anything, maybe nothing. So we waited 3 months for another scan. Well, on June 8, they scanned again and the nodules had grown. From 3mm to 8mm on 2 of them and 8mm to 12mm on the larger one. 35% growth.

Apparently, this seemed to rule out that they were harmless cysts or scar tissue because those things don't normally grow in size like that.

Doc said he wanted to wait another 3 months because they were still pretty small, perhaps too small for a needle biopsy. I then went up to Riverside, CA. for a 2nd opinion from Dr. Gailani who, unlike my local Oncologist, has at least some experience with RCC (Renal Cell Carcinoma).

Dr. G seemed to agree with Dr. Chen that watch-n-wait was the best course to take but seemed to understand my anxiety so offered to schedule me for a PET scan which might show the nodules to be cancer thus clinching the deal.

Here's where it gets funky though. According to Dr. G, a PET scan is sort of iffy, false negatives are common so while a positive result is heeded as reliable, a negative result is ignored, putting me back in watch-n-wait mode. In other words, a nagative result would NOT mean I was in the clear.

Now I've heard from other knowledgable folks who tell me just the opposite - that PET scan false negatives are at around the 5% range for nodules over 1cm (my largest nodules was 12mm or just over 1cm at last scan).

Who the hell knows?

Anyway, the results were negative. The Nurse, whom I trust called and told me it was 'good news' which only served to confuse me more because of what Dr. G had told me.

Since March I've been in a real funk.. feeling bad, having anxiety attacks, depression etc. I've been doing nothing but sit on my dead ass and worry since March. I feel like crap a lot of the time but I don't know if that's just from depression or what.

In 2 days I get my 3rd scan since the original sighting of the nodules. If there are more of them or the 3 have grown, I believe that will pretty much clinch the deal.. even though I've already been told by both doctors that I can pretty much count on them being recurrent RCC, there is still some lingering of uncertainty, apparently.

So this is the big one. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to be told how I will die... maybe not right away but eventually. Other times I realize that is really just my depression making me be over-dramatic.

I'm really tired of feeling like crap 90% of the time. Once this is past, I really need to start moving.. doing something other than sit around thinking about dying. If it is cancer and I have to go through some sort of treatment, I'll deal with it and get through it.

But if it's not or if it's back to watch-n-wait mode then I absolutely must get back to living my life.. cause the way it is now just plain sucks.

Yeah, I made a lot of mistakes when I was young.

If you really want to repeat each one, you'd better get busy.

Listen...

Don't forsake your future for the sake of a good party. Please.

Yeah, I know.. It's me talking. I'm always telling you what to do. But this time, I know what I'm talking about. I've lived the life you seem to be seeking and it was almost my undoing.

If you want any chance at having a comfortable life you must listen to me....

R.I.P. Don Adams...

"Missed it by that much!

Got it now...

Be careful what you think - thoughts become words
Be careful what you say - words become actions
Be careful what you do - actions become habits
Be careful of your habits - habits become character

Be careful what you think - thoughts become words
Be careful what you say - words become actions
Be careful what you do - Actions become habits


...wish I could remember the rest...

I could never say it any better than this. Thank you, Mr. Card.


A Thank-You Letter in This Time of War

By Orson Scott Card November 21, 2004

A Thank-You Letter in This Time of War

This Thanksgiving there are thousands of people I have never met, to whom I owe a debt that cannot be repaid.

To you, Marine, still weary from the battle house to house in Fallujah, whom we called upon to overcome your natural fear and go into combat in our cause: What went through your mind and heart in those days of fighting is between you and your fellow soldiers and the God who knows your heart as no mortal being can. All I can see is the outward deed -- the courage to act on someone else's orders, in protection of someone else's life, at risk of your own.

To all you soldiers, sailors, pilots, marines who have served under fire, at risk of life, volunteers in the American cause: You carry with you painful memories so that countless civilians back home will not have such memories; the vast majority of your fellow-citizens remain innocent of the agony of war precisely because you have been willing to immerse yourselves in it.

You create and maintain the safe haven in which I live. Thank you.

To you in the reserve and national guard, who came when you were called and set aside your lives and left behind your families for months and sometimes years of service you did not hope for ...

To you whose military service is not in combat, yet who labor to make sure that our troops are well supplied, well trained, and only put at risk when there is a goal to achieve that is worthy of the sacrifice of life ...

To you civilians who, unarmed, have braved the dangers of war in order to help rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan, and restore their ability to live in peace and plenty ...

You make our nation possible, our whole world safer. Thank you.

To you policemen and firemen here at home whose vigilance protects us from dangers natural and deliberate, from barbarians foreign and domestic, and from our own foolish mistakes: Each day at work you don't expect to risk your life, but that risk is always there; and your constant vigilance is our protection. Thank you.

To you, the Iraqi soldier, newly trained in an army that was under fire from the moment you first stepped into a recruiting line: You know that your own families are at risk because of your service; that while you fight to liberate a part of your country from terrorists and thugs, others might come to your own home and assault your own family to punish you. You and I are patriots in different countries, but today we share a cause, and if your country keeps the freedom our soldiers have tried to bring you, it will be because of your own steadfastness and courage and sacrifice.

To you, the Iraqi policeman, who has had to learn new rules: The civilization of your own people is in your hands. You are teaching your people that the day of the torturers is past, so that they will look to you for protection, instead of dreading your approach; and you do it despite knowing that the barbarians will try to punish you and your family for your service in that cause.

To all the Iraqi and Afghan citizens who understand that American soldiers are only in your country until you have soldiers and police and a government that can be trusted to do your will and keep you free and safe: Your cooperation hastens the day when our soldiers can come home, a day we long for every bit as much as you. Your votes in elections; your obedience to law; they are also acts of courage and determination, and the whole world is safer because of them.

I salute you; I thank you.

And to you, the American soldier who has been torn by bombs or bullets, who came home maimed in body or in spirit by this war: I cannot restore to you what you have lost, but I will try to show you by my personal treatment of you, by contributions I make and the votes I cast in support of meeting your needs, by the honor that I give to you, and by the free and decent society that I will try to maintain, that the country that you served was worthy of the price you paid and will continue to pay all the days of your life.

Thank you.

You, the family whose child did not come home alive; you who have buried the hopes and dreams you had for that child's life; how can I comfort you? Except to tell you that the lives of all the children who have not died, whose future was not broken off by war, belong in part to you, because of the sacrifice you made.

I may not have known your lost sons and daughters, but I know why they died, and I love them for their sacrifice, and will not forget them; nor will I forget you, and the constant ache that will be with you for the rest of your lives.

I believe that in the eyes of God you are all held in honor; I know that in my own eyes, your suffering and sacrifice are gifts to your neighbors, to your nation, to all civilized people, whether or not they understand. I hope it helps sustain you, to know that I and many others like me are grateful to you and to the loved one you have lost.

On Thanksgiving day, family and friends will gather around a table in my home and give thanks to God for all the good things in our lives. Our home, our neighborhood, our city will mostly be at peace; there will be laughter and pleasure in our house, as well as solemnity and prayer.

Yet we will not forget you, none of you who have served us in this struggle. I promise that we will remember: You have been the hands of God in bringing this much more freedom, this much more hope of peace and justice to God's children, not only in your native land, but also among strangers.

No one has greater love than this: to lay down your life for your friends.

For that love, for your love, I give thanks.

Copyright © 2004 by Orson Scott Card.

So tomorrow I get to go have more pictures taken.. CT Scan. CAP which stands for Chest, Abdomin & Pelvic.

But it's my lungs they wantto look at. It seems that in my last scans, they found two spots on my lungs that *could* be mets... That's new cancer growths to you healthy people.

Doc says not to worry. He doesn't think they're (the spots) related to my cancer. But, that's what they told me last time.. "Don't worry, it's probably nothing. We're just checking to make sure."

Now I'm missing a major organ.

Yeah, I'm a little scared...

There seems to be an awful lot of people out there that just plain don't have a clue and can't be bothered to get one.

I'm another 911 Republican.. Before that I was pretty much apolitical.. Just another sheeple. It never seemed to make all that much difference who was in office as far as my little world was concerned.

That was then...

But since my new interest in politics, I often find myself amazed at how many seemingly intelligent people are out there that don't have even a basic idea of what's going on. Most say they are Democrats but can't even name the VP candidate. They are just going along with what seems popular in their social circles.

They will tell you that President Bush is evil because Bruce Springsteen says he is. Any questioning of the merits of a Kerry presidency is met with blank stares... Or, if they are not sleep-walking liberals then they are often of the "lets-just-nuke 'em- all" mentality. Never a thought beyond that.. just nuke 'em.

Yep, our country is filled with throngs of ignorant and clueless people. Even at my most apathetic, I don't think I was THAT bad..

Oh well, hopefully, most of them won't vote.

Ok, I think I have it fixed for real this time...

Someone has hijacked my blog!

Going to Croakerjoe.blogspot.com redirects to some damn sparrc linux site.. I will get to the bottom of it.

Hi.. its me. I'm back.

I found this and thought it was worth posting...

http://www.smcgop.us/_fileCabinet/commentary/NoOneAskedUs.pdf

George Bush coalesced American support behind invading Iraq, I am told, using two arguments: Iraq had weapons of mass destruction and the capability to deliver them, and Iraq was a supporter of Al-Qaeda terrorism, and may have been involved in the attacks of 9/11. Vicious words and gratuitous finger-pointing keep falling back on these points, as people insist that "we" were misled into what started as a dynamic liberation and has become a bloody counterinsurgency. Watching politicians declaim and hearing television experts expound on why we went to war and on their opinions of those running the White House and Defense Department, I have one question.

When is someone going to ask the guys who were there?

What about the opinions of those whose lives were on the line, massed on the Iraq-Kuwait border beginning in February of last year? I don't know how President Bush got the country behind him, because at the time I was living in a hole in the dirt in northern Kuwait. Why have I not heard a word from anyone who actually carried a rifle or flew a plane into bad guy country last year, and who has since had to deal with the ugly aftermath of a violent liberation? What about the guys who had the most to lose...what do they think about all this?

I was there. I am one of those guys who fought the war and helped keep the peace. I am a Major in the Marine Reserves, and during the war I was the senior American attached to the 1 Royal Irish Battlegroup, a rifle battalion of the British Army. I was commander of five U.S. Marine air/naval gunfire liaison teams, as well as the liaison officer between U.S. Marines and British Army forces. I was activated on January 14, 2003, and 17 days later I and my Marines were standing in Kuwait with all of our gear, ready to go to war.

I majored in Political Science at Duke, and I graduated with a Masters degree in government from the Kennedy School at Harvard. I understand realpolitik, geopolitical jujitsu, economics and the reality of the Arab world. I know the tension between the White House, the UN, Langley and Foggy Bottom. One of my grandfathers was a two-star Navy admiral; my other grandfather was an ambassador. I am not a pushover, blindly following whoever is in charge, and I don't kid myself that I live in a perfect world. But the war made sense then, and the occupation makes sense now.

As dawn broke on March 22, 2003, I became part of one of the largest and fastest land movements in the history of war. I went across the border alongside my brothers in the Royal Irish, following the 5th Marine Regiment from Camp Pendleton as they swept through the Ramaylah oil fields. I was one those guys you saw on TV every night- filthy, hot, exhausted. I think the NRA and their right-to-bear-arms mantra is a joke, but by God I was carrying a loaded rifle, a loaded pistol and a knife on my body at all times. My boots rested on sandbags on the floor of my Humvee, there to protect me from the blast of a land mines or IED. I killed many Iraqi soldiers, as they tried to kill me and my Marines. I did it with a radio, directing airstrikes and artillery, in concert with my British artillery officer counterpart, in combat along the Hamar Canal in southern Iraq. I saw, up close, everything the rest of you see in the newspapers: dead bodies, parts of dead bodies, helmets with bullet holes through them, handcuffed POWs sitting in the sand, oil well fires with flames reaching 100 feet into the air and a roar you could hear from over a mile away.

I stood on the bloody sand where Marine Second Lieutenant Therrel Childers was the first American killed on the ground. I pointed a loaded weapon at another man for the first time in my life. I did what I had spent 14 years training to do, and my Marines - your Marines - performed so well it still brings tears to my eyes to think about it. I was proud of what we did then, and I am proud of it now.

Along with the violence, I saw many things that lifted my heart. I saw thousands of Iraqis in cities like Qurnah and Medinah - men, women, children, grandparents carrying babies - running into the streets at the sight of us, the first Western army to arrive. I saw them screaming, crying, waving, cheering. They ran from their homes at the sound of our Humvee tires roaring in from the south, bringing bread and tea and cigarettes and photos of their children. They chattered at us in Arabic, and we spoke to them in English, and neither understood the other. The entire time I was in Iraq, I had one impression from the civilians I met: Thank God, finally someone has arrived with bigger men and bigger guns to be, at last, on our side.

Let there be no mistake, those of you who don't believe in this war: the Ba'ath regime were the Nazis of the second half of the 20th century. I saw what the murderous, brutal regime of Saddam Hussein wrought on that country through his party and their Fedayeen henchmen. They raped, murdered, tortured, extorted and terrorized those in that country for 35 years. There are mass graves throughout Iraq only now being discovered. 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, out of Camp Pendleton, liberated a prison in Iraq populated entirely by children. The Ba'athists brutalized the weakest among them, and killed the strongest.

I saw in the eyes of the people how a generation of fear reflects in the human soul.

The Ba'ath Party, like the Nazis before them, kept power by spreading out, placing their officials in every city and every village to keep the people under their boot. Everywhere we went we found rifles, ammunition, RPG rounds, mortar shells, rocket launchers, and artillery. When we took over the southern city of Ramaylah, our battalion commander tore down the Ba'ath signs and commandeered the former regime headquarters in town (which, by the way, was 20 feet from the local school.) My commander himself took over the office of the local Ba'ath leader, and in opening the desk of that thug found a set of brass knuckles and a gun. These are the people who are now in prison, and that is where they deserve to be.

The analogy is simple. For years, you have watched the same large, violent man come home every night, and you have listened to his yelling and the crying and the screams of children and the noise of breaking glass, and you have always known that he was beating his wife and his children. Everyone on the block has known it. You ask, cajole, threaten and beg him to stop, on behalf of the rest of the neighborhood. Nothing works. After listening to it for 13 years, you finally gather up the biggest, meanest guys you can find, you go over to his house, and you kick the door down. You punch him in the face and drag him away. The house is a mess, the family poor and abused...but now there is hope. You did the right thing.

I can speak with authority on the opinions of both British and American infantry in that place and at that time. Let me make this clear: at no time did anyone say or imply to any of us that we were invading Iraq to rid the country of weapons of mass destruction, nor were we there to avenge 9/11. We knew we were there for one reason: to rid the world of a tyrant, and to give Iraq back to Iraqis.

None of us had even heard those arguments for going to war until we returned, and we still don't understand the confusion. To us, it was simple. The world needed to be rid of a man who committed mass murder of an entire people, and our country was the only one that could project that much power that far and with that kind of precision. We don't make policy decisions: we carry them out. And none of us had the slightest doubt about how right and good our actions were.

The war was the right thing to do then, and in hindsight it was still the right thing to do. We can't overthrow every murderous tyrant in the world, but when we can, we should. Take it from someone who was there, and who stood to lose everything. We must, and will, stay the course. We owe it to the Iraqis, and to the world.

Stan Coerr is a SuperCobra attack helicopter pilot and Forward Air Controller, and was recently selected for Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps Reserve. He lives in San Diego.

"While outside on the turnpike
They got this new hit tune
Where thrills become as cheap as gas
And gas as cheap as thrills" ~ Blue Oyster Cult

I found this on one of the Iraqi Blogs and thought it was pretty good..

--snip--

A Gallon is a Gallon!

To keep things in perspective, even though it still hurts. For those who have forgotten their measurements and prices:

1 cup = 8 ounces
2 cups = 1 pint = 16 ounces
2 pints = 1 quart = 32 ounces
4 quarts = 1 gallon = 128 ounces

You Think A Gallon Of Gas Is Expensive?

It makes one think and puts things in perspective.
Check out these prices:

Diet Snapple 16 oz $1.29 ..... $10.32 per gallon
Lipton Ice Tea 16 oz $1.19 ..... $9.52 per gallon
Gatorade 20 oz $1.59 ..... $10.17 per gallon
Ocean Spray 16 oz $1.25 ..... $10.00 per gallon
Brake Fluid 12 oz $3.15 ..... $33.60 per gallon
Vicks Nyquil 6 oz $8.35 ..... $178.13 per gallon
Pepto Bismol 4 oz $3.85 ..... $123.20 per gallon
Whiteout 7 oz $1.39 ..... $25.42 per gallon
Scope 1.5 oz $0.99 ..... $84.48 per gallon

This is the REAL KICKER:
Evian Water 9 oz $1.49 ..... $21.19 per gallon.
$21.19 FOR WATER! And the buyers don't even know the source.

So, the next time you're at the pump, be glad your car doesn't run on water, Scope, Whiteout, PEPTO BISMOL or NYQUIL.

--snip--

Smoke 'em if ya got 'em...

Its about damn time I wrote in here again.. I seem to be falling into my old patterns.

The one thing I MUST not fall back into is smoking. I'm feeling quite a bit better and with that comes the urge to smoke.. more and more. I have not succumbed yet but dammit... I can't understand why this is happening to me.

The physical addiction part should be long gone by now. They say that is past in 2 - 3 days.. Hell, I was in the House of Pain, unconcious for much of that time. I didn't even think about cigs till I had been home for about a week.

The last two days, I have finally been able to have wheels, get outside and drive some.. went to pick up a perscription yesterday and drove my wife to work this morning. Both times, I played the old familiar, "I'll buy a pack and just smoke two of them then throw them away" game... Just to see if I really want to smoke again, you see.

Thats how it starts.. Thats how I've restarted smoking the several times I've been able to quit over the years. I'll play that game 2 or 3 times then decide I'm wasting too much money, throwing away 4.00 packs of nearly full cigs.. that is then used to justify just keeping the next pack and then, next thing you know, its old smokey Joe again.

This is insane. I can't let it happen. I have fucking cancer.. you'd think that'd be enough to make ANYONE quit the fucking things.

I have a chance here to really turn my life around. Once I recover fully from the surgery, I should be able to get myself into pretty good shape. My weight is way down.. My heart is in great shape - I used to worry about my heart a lot, before all this.. I always figured that if anything was gonna get me, it would be heart disease. But much to my suprise, all my gym work and running on the Torture Device there (its like a ski simulater treadmill thing..) seems to have paid off. Several times, while I was in the House of Pain, after taking my heart rate, the nurses asked me if I was a runner - it seems my "at rest" heart rate is in the low 50's, which I guess is pretty good. I was amazed. The thought of someone mistaking me for a runner, a healthy person was almost funny to me at first.. Surely you don't mean ME? A runner?

Wow!

So, I will do my best to continue fighting the urge to smoke. I must. When will the shit just GO AWAY?

mmm, I forgot to list one more of the things that I am truly happy about.. As of yesterday, I am down to 205 LBS. Thats 70 lbs gone since last nov.

That puts me within 10 - 15 lbs from my goal.

And no, my weight loss does NOT have anything to do with m illness. Yes my recent loss was due to the surgery but not the illness.

I guess that deserves a little whoo hoo!

"..and we call it knowledge and change and life itself..." ~ Blues Traveller

This might be my last entry for a few days. To give myself something to do, I've decided to reformat my hard disk and re-install Windoze XP.. My system needs it badly.. its full of junk. So, my computer will be down for a day or two at least.

First off, some good news.. My pathology report is a good one (I'm told).. Here it is:

A. Kidney, right, nephrectomy
- CLEAR CELL RENAL CARCINOMA, 6.5 CM, GRADE 3/3, CONFINED WITHIN RENAL
CAPSULE, STAGE 1bNXMX
- RENAL VEIN WITHOUT MALIGNANCY
- ADRENAL GLAND WITHOUT MALIGNANCY
- SURGICAL MARGINS CLEAR

Don't ask me what all the numbers mean. They must be ok since Doc Khaw has said I am "cured". Thats not to say it can't come back or that it hasn't already spread in ths far undetectable ways... But, I guess it qualifies as good news.

I guess I should be happy.. and I am, I suppose but something is making me uneasy just the same. Happy: 1. No work for another month, 2. doc says I'm cured, 3. I seem to be healing up really fast. I don't really feel bad at all... considering. 4. lots of time to play all the new computer games I've gotten recently, 5. Lots of family and friends in my corner, rooting for me. 6. Lots of other stuff that should be keeping me happy.

But I am a worry wart, as those who know me well will attest.. I have the folks I've met on the RCC mailing list.. people with lots of experience with this disease, telling me that I should be kicking and screaming, demanding to be scanned from head to toe to make sure my cancer hasn't spread. They say its my life and I have a right to take every precaution. Apparently, my HMO doesn't do further scanning in cases like mine unless the Dr. thinks its neccesary (he doesn't) or in case of symptoms.

Then I have the other side.. certain family members.. that urge me to just accept. Be happy that I am "cured" and trust the Dr. to do the best thing. Heal up, quit worrying and get on with life.

I don't really know what to do. The list people may seem a little paranoid to people who have never been thru something like this.. But they have experience.. sometimes, the disease DOES come back.. people do die.

Doc says I have an 80% chance of remaining NED (no evidence of disease) for 5 years... I guess thats supposed to be encouraging but... He never said what happens after that 5 years.

Am I being paranoid? Should I just heal up and shut up? Or am I being too trusting? Should I be exhausting every resource to make sure I have the absolute best chances of surviving?

One thing I will not do is drive my family into financial ruin by persuing something that may or may not be neccesary.

Grrrrr.. Its a quandry, to be sure.

Do I have a sense of relief? Yes, I do.. but this and other concerns are chipping away at it. I suppose things will level out over time.

I must fight the childish desire for someone to make my decisions for me.. to relieve me of the worry and pressure. It is my life, after all.

I guess thats it for now.. I have lots more on my mind but need to let it all simmer a bit. Not sure how much of it, if any, belongs here..

See ya next time!

Ka-chunk!


Well, I'm off to the Doc to have my 34 staples removed.. (ouch!) and also for the truly scary part of the whole thing, the Pathology report. Much is riding on that report.. wish me luck!

I'm thinking about changing the format here so that newer posts appear at the bottom. Seems like it gets a little confusing the way it is now. So whad'ya think? Please post a "Comment" below with your opinion if you read the Blogwagon on a regular basis.

[Things get a little graphic towards the end here.. skip to the end if you are easily offended or grossed out..]

....so I check into the Hospital or "House of Pain" as I like to call it.. at around 3pm last wed. After some paperwork and basic instructions, I signed off, saying basically that I wouldn't blame them too much if things didn't go my way... Anyway, it wasn't long before I was undressed and laying in a gown on a bed in a room.. My wife was there with me. After a short wait, they came and hooked up my first IV.. This just started pumping some inert fluid into me - just to get me in the mood, I guess. After a bit, they came along and added some drugs into the mix "to help me relax".

I sure did relax.. it was almost fun, that short time in that room.. I felt pretty damn good and got a little silly.. I wasn't thinking about tumors or kidneys or anything nasty at all. Boy, hospitals sure have some pretty good dope! [break]

...Soon enough though, they were carting me off to "the room". I remember being wheeled in and seeing the big lights like you see on TV... and then I woke up and "They" were saying, "all done" and I had this huge pain in my side.. Huge but not very important.. hard to explain. My wife was there and someone said that all was well and that Dr. Khaw had, "got it all" I think my son, AKA the "Blogwagon Mystery Guest" was there also. Possibly my Mom.. The next few days, oh, call it 24 to 36 hours were mostly a haze of heavy narcotics, pain and sleep.

I remember a nurse asking me to get out of bed and sit in the chair for a while. Sure, I thought.. no problem. Whats the big deal? It took everything I had to rise out of bed, take those two steps to the chair.. and I mean everything. It was incredible. Thats when I knew that this thing was in fact far worse than I ever imagined. I had no idea that I would be that weak.. even though I was told. You don't truly understand something like that till you feel it for yourself. [break]

[ahh.. a nice shower/lunch/BIG NAP combo.. ]... as I stopped using the really heavy stuff and moved to the pills, my mind sort of came back to itself.. these days were filled with naps, hallway walking adventures and the unholy combo of jello, broth and tea.. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to eat those things again. For 4 days, thats all I ate.. until my bowels started showing some signs of working again, thats all I could have. It took a bit longer than is ideal.. By sunday, I had passed these hurtles and was on to what they called "mechanical soft" which was mostly normal foods ground to smithereeens like baby food. Actually, after 4 days of the above, everything I ate there after that point was like a fine gormet meal.. simply wonderful.

It was the potty that kept me in the House of Pain for an extra day or two. First, I had to learn to pee again. That took a day or so and even though I was, at one tim, nearly in tears over the effort, once I did it was off to the races.. Getting that hose off my peepee was a major milestone for me. It was around that time though that my bowels began to act up. I became so gassy and bloated, my belly actually grew several inches.. visibly distended. It hurt like blazes - far more so than the actual incision. There was about 36 hours there that were truly nightmarish for me. I had no idea that this would prove to be the worst part of the whole thing. I'm a pretty big, tough guy but there were times when the cramps hurt so bad, I was literally in tears. I'll never forget that pain.. never had ANYTHING hurt like that and for so long.

.. and that brings me to the "tears" part... In the worst part of this, two of my best friends chose a bad moment to visit me. It happened to be during what was possibly the worst hour of the worst day. Just bad timing on their part, not their fault to be sure. They arrived, we talked a bit as I writhed on the bed, trying to act normal.. I had to run to the bathroom to try yet again to pass something.. anything, a peep of gas.. ANYTHING from my aching bowels. As I sat there on the pot, I sort of entered some sort of emotional blow-out - self pity - crying jag..

As I sat there in a life struggle with the damn toilet, desperately trying to squeese out one tiny turd, one squeeky fart just to ease the incredible pressure I had.. I could hear them in the room, discussing the merits of Warren Haynes as the new guitarist for the Dead, trying for my sake to pretend that everything was hunky dory and I thought to myself, "I can't do this any more..." the out loud.., "I want to go home!" and that did it.. I burst into tears like I haven't had since the worst moments of childhood.. I cried and cried.. I eventually had to get up (still unproductive, by the way) and go out and my wife, who could tell something was wrong, had to ask the guys to cut the visit short. God, I love that woman. She then held me while I shook and cried for a good 30 minutes.

You see, I wanted to be out there, in the conversation.. I'm normally a big, brash, in-your-face kind of guy, dominating most conversations I enter into (or trying to.. nasty habit, that..) .. and instead, there I was, a pitiful, sweating figure purched on a toilet, cursing his pain... I just lost it...

I'll blame this in part on all the pills and other drugs I had been doing.. I had been high as a junkie in a DEA evidence locker for 5 days.. But I'll tell you, I felt the better for it.. My Doc agreed and threw out some silly statistic (Docs love those..) that said that people in my situations (or similar) that had an "emotional blowout" soon after surgery, healed faster and better...

Anyway, sorry guys. I'll make it up to you. We WILL get by...

So, now I'm home and though there is plenty of pain and healing ahead, I feel pretty damn good again, considering. Thanks for reading if you got this far... See you next time!

"Doctor, Doctor, Gimmie the news..."

Well, I'm home. I won't pull any punches here.. it sucked big-time. The whole ordeal was much worse than I ever dreamed of. It was also, as many told me it would be, "over before I knew it" and "not all that bad". How do I explain this apparent contradiction? Read on.. (I am writing this in sections since about a paragraph or two seems to be all I can handle before needing a rest...)

Dear Imaginary Reader,

I'm very sorry that my stand-in, the Mystery Guest here at the Blogwagon didn't do a very good job of updating. I forgive him, naturally though I am somewhat suprised, seeing as how much time and energy he spends updating his own blogs, I thought the assignment was right down his alley. (livejournal.com / deadjournal.com) he has made his curent one "friends only" or I'd link you to it. I enjoy his writing a lot. Its really much better than my own. Some very excellent writing there but it seems that he and his friends kept getting in trouble because they would post their goings on in their public blogs where anyone, including a certain net savvy Dad could read them. Pretty funny, actually... [break time...]

I used to catch them at all sorts of shenanigans that way before they finally caught on. I forgive the Mystery Guest though, as I said.. I'm sure he's had a head full of "stuff" as much as anyone in my family lately. He visited me often while I was in the House of Pain and provided a lot of comfort.

"Everything happens for a reason.." says the father character in the movie, "Life as a House" and while my situation does not directly correspond to his in the movie (I'm not dying), I do know what he means now. The "reason" here for me was to provide me with a new found love and appreciation of my immediate family. Great movie, by the way, if you haven't seen it. It has special meaning for me.. but its a real tear fest.

Speaking of tears and the House of Pain.. [Break]

[It has taken me over 2 hours to write the above (in 5 minute increments) so I'm gonna save/publish what I have now to make sure I don't lose it. I may need to reboot for a keyboard swap.. so, To be Continued....]

surgery went well. joe should be coming home soon. he asked me to write in this but i'm only now getting around to it. i'm sure he'll give you any griddy details when he gets the chance.

surgery went well. joe should be coming home soon. he told me to write in this but i'm only now getting around to it. he'll give the griddy details when he can.

Time for a break & maybe a laugh or two..

The following is not mine.. I found it in my net travels but thought it was pretty damn funny...

--snip--

Ok folks, I have had it. I've taken all I can stand and I can't stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, trans-sexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual-bogus definitions have taken over the urban and suburban world!

Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your butt, belch, and yell
"ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture wars, the Retrosexual movement.

The RetroSexual Code :

A Retrosexual does not let neighbors screw up rooms in his house on national TV. A Retrosexual, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

A Retrosexual opens doors for a lady. Even for the ones that fit that term only because they are female.

A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tire, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.

A Retrosexual doesn't worry about living to be 90. It's not how long you live, but how well. If you're 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you.

A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need an endcap. (possibly 2 endcaps if you include shaving goods.)

A Retrosexual does not dress in clothes from Hot Topic when he's 30 years old.

A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code.

A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major re-invention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a froo-froo little puss, and in the long run, she ain't worth it.

A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak
treechipper accident, favorite sports team being moved to a different city,
or favorite bird dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink
because Daddy didn't pay you enough attention to you. Daddy was busy
DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to
conceal himself from prey.

A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie - and ONLY
a Windsor knot.

A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about
getting.

A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can't hammer a
nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can - or be
rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you be.

A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled
with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus
it's just plain fun to shoot.

Crying. There are very few reason that a Retrosexaul may cry, and none of
them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams
are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is
swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry
include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish
do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part.

A Retrosexual man's favorite movie isn't "Maid in Manhattan" (unless that
refers to some foxy French maid sitting in a huge tub of brandy or
whiskey), or "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." Acceptable ones may
include any of the Dirty Harry or Nameless Drifter movies (Clint in his
better days), Rambo I or II, the Dirty Dozen, The Godfather trilogy,
Scarface, The Road Warrior, The Die Hard series, Caddyshack, Rocky I, II,
or III, Full Metal Jacket, any James Bond Movie, Raging Bull, Bullitt, any
Bruce Lee movie, Apocalypse Now, Goodfellas, Reservior Dogs, Fight Club,etc
.

When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a
pregnant woman, hell, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and
offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men
still in their seats with a disgusted "you punks" look on his face.

A Retrosexual knows how to say the Pledge properly, and with the correct
emphasis and pronunciation. He also knows the words to the Star Spangled
Banner.

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not
understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset
the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged in a
serious healthy relationship - i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting,
shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all
over or driving under 20 mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering
his ride on a plow berm.

A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants.
Wherever it lands is where he damn well wanted it to land.

A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any
elderly person or person in military dress (except officers above 2nd Lt)
NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the
Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for
serving their country.

A Retrosexual man doesn't need a contract -- a handshake is good enough. He will always stand by his word even if circumstances change or the other person deceived him.

A Retrosexual man doesn't immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT!!!!

--snip--

Sorry I haven't updated as often as I'd planned.. I have plenty to say but not the words to say them.

Besides, I've been busy playing City of Heroes.. .. Its a pretty good game, if you like MMORPG's.. and I do. Maybe not the "next big thing" that everyone is waiting for but its enough to take my mind off things. Having lots of fun being JJ Flash, the fireball throwing superhero.. saving little old ladies from muggers and such.

Yeah, I'm a grown man and I love computer games..

Well, its 2 days till my surgery. I'm doing ok but I have to admit, I'm scared shitless. But thats the more concrete, easier to deal with fear of the operation itself.. The other, more vague fear is much scarier but I'm mostly able to block that out, at least till we see what the results of the operation are.

I haven't smoked since last friday night. It ain't easy but I'm doing it.

I'll try to post more later.

There are times that you can beckon
There are times when you must call
You can shake a ton of reckoning
But you can't shake it all
There are times when I can help you out
And times that you must fall
There are times when you must live in doubt
And I can't help at all


Three blue stars / Rise on the hill
Say no more, now / Just be still
All these trials / Soon be past
Look for something / Built to last


Wind held by the collar
Got a cloud held by the breeze
You can walk on coals of fire
But sometimes you must freeze
There are times when you offend me
And I do the same to you
If we can't or won't forget it,
then I guess we could be through


One blue star / Sets on the hill
Call it back / You never will
One more star / Sinks in the past
Show me something / Built to last.


Built to last till time itself
Falls tumbling from the wall
Built to last till sunshine fails
And darkness moves on all
Built to last while years roll past
Like cloudscapes in the sky
Show me something built to last
Or something built to try


There are times when you get hit upon
Try hard but you cannot give
Other times you'd gladly part
With what you need to live
Don't waste the breath to save your face
When you have done your best
And even more is asked of you
Let fate decide the rest.


All the stars / Are gone but one
Morning breaks / Here comes the sun
Cross the sky now / Sinking fast
Show me something / Built to last


~ Hunter

Parts is Parts

Had my pre-op thing yesterday with Doc Kahw (not sure if I spelled his name right).

Not much new to report - it will be a Radical Nephrectomy which is the removal of my entire right kidney and adrenal gland and possibly some surrounding tissue or lymph nods, depending on what they see once they open me up. April 14, Kaiser hospital (At Zion & Mission Gorge) at around 6pm. The surgery will last 3 - 4 hours and another hour or so in recovery.

One fun and exciting new development is that, apparently because I have an extra large rib cage, they will also be removing one, possibly two of my ribs to gain the access they need.

Honestly, this bothers me as much as anything. The thought of them removing large parts of me and tossing them into the dipsy-dumpster makes my flesh crawl.

***

Yesterday, after we left the hospital, Dianna and I went to Old Town and pigged out on Mexican food. Fuck my diet.. I imagine I'll be dropping more weight from the surgery anyway. Heh, I've done similar several times over the last week or two and have gone from an all-time low of 213 lbs back up to 217 lbs.

Before all this cancer crap, I'd have been horrified.. I've done so well with my weight loss, but now it doesn't really seem worth fretting about. What the hell, I still weigh 58 lbs less than I did last Nov. anyway.

So anyway, with lunch, I also downed 2 large margaritas.. I got a little buzzed but I actually got myself into a pretty good mood and Dianna and I managed to have a few laughs. That was good.

Then we came home and she found a wrapper of hair dye in the bathroom. We knew right away that Jason's first act of independance after reaching the grand old age of 18 was to dye his hair black again. I'm afraid I sort of lost my good mood then.

Listen, I know its just hair. It doesn't really hurt anything, I suppose.. though I worry about his finding and keeping employment - it looks pretty outlandish to me. But I am a veteran of many arguments over my long hair with my father.. You'd think I'd be more tolerant.

But when I saw him, a natural blonde, with his black/purple hair, I lost it. I yelled at him, "Nice fucking job, you look like a goddamm idiot!". He got back in the car and drove away without a word. I feel really bad about the whole thing. I am still unhappy with his doing it but I definately over reacted (as I often do). Anyway, I finally got him to call me back on his cell and we sort of made up... but I still feel crappy about the whole episode.

The most important thing in the world to me right now is that my family knows that I love them without reservation... no matter what.

My 18 year old son has taken up smoking and its making me sick and furious. I felt like kicking his skinny butt up and down the street but realize that he needs to decide on his own. Perhaps when he sees me laying in the surgery recovery room next week, he'll get a clue. I've yelled, I've lectured, I've pleaded with him..

Its up to him now.

Wanna know whats REALLY messed up? Even after all I've been through, I'm still smoking a few cigs per day. The double whammy of my anxiety over my illness and nicotine withdrawal (which feels something like a mild panic attack to me, even before all this) proved to be more than I can deal with right now.

Next week, I'll be in a position (read: hospital) where I'll absolutely not be able to smoke for at least a week or more so hopefully, that will do the trick. Failure is not an option.

I feel like, if I end up hobbling down to the corner market for cigs as soon as I am mobile after my surgery, I may as well just put a gun to my head right now. (I'm not serious.. I'd never do that but you get the idea..)

If you smoke, quit NOWGood luck, you can do it!

...more later...

If you'd like to comment on any of this nonsense, just click the word, "Comment" at the bottom of each post. Be sure and turn off your pop-up blocker first.

"I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart - took eighteen years to get this far" ~ Alice Cooper

My son turns 18 tomorrow.

I remember 18.. When you're 18, you've got King Kong balls. You're gonna live forever and you know every damn thing there is to know.

Its really, really hard to sit back and watch him make so many of the same mistakes I made. But I know, he's gotta learn for himself.. Truth is, I've never been much good at teaching him anything, even when he was a young boy.

I'm hardly a good example for anyone to follow. He'd likely do better to use me as an example of what NOT to do.

Happy birthday, son. I love you.

Fear and Loathing in Santee

Fear.. do you know it? I never have.

I've been told I have a 6X9 cm. tumor on my right kidney. There is a whopping 5 - 10% chance that it will turn out to be benign.. Not very good odds. I would never shoot craps at those odds.

It will most likely turn out to be a fun little number known as Renal Cell Carcinoma (RCC) .. that's kidney cancer to us regular folks.

I am scheduled for surgery on April 14 to have my right kidney removed.

Now, I am getting more acquainted with fear.

Fear of pain. Fear of the unknown. Fear of death. Fear of losing my quality of life.

Fear of leaving my family.. my wife - the love of my life.

I am a champion at over reacting. There is every reason to believe that my tumor has not spread.. I will have my kidney out and that will be the end of it. Life will resume as normal. If it has spread, however, I could be in for a very long ride. But I have joined a mailing list, a support group for people with this disease and let me tell you, there are people on there with problems that make mine seem petty indeed. My chances, from what I know so far, are pretty good. Some of these brave people are facing down death on a daily basis.

They are awesome people. They kick ass.

I figured that if ever there was a time for me to start writing in this thing, this is it. I think the RCC mailing list owners are getting tired of my rantings anyway so I'm going to start coming here to spew out my bullshit instead.

For some reason, I seem to be better at writing when I know I have an audience. I may be the only one ever to read this so its more difficult for me.

But at least here, I'm the boss so I can say whatever crazy stupid shit I feel like. :) I'll just imagine I have readers.. like Stephen King's "Constant Reader".

Well, I'm already stuck. I have lots to say.. I just need to force myself to get used to this format. I'll be back.

Hmm.. somehow the comment gizmo I installed has disappeared entirely. Weird. Let me see if I can put one back.

I can't understand what people are afraid of. I am agnostic but I have no problem at all saying MERRY CHRISTMAS to my Christian friends nor would I ever be offended when it is said to me.

As an unreligious person, I look at Christmas as a time to celebrate your family and loved ones through the ritual of gift giving and the other trappings of Christmas like trees, Santa and yes, even Jesus. (After all, it is he that the Holiday is based on, so yes, there are angels, and representations of him on our tree.) Many may see that as a contradiction, a cop out but to me it's simply an acknowledgement of the historical origins of the day. Because I have no problem with Christian based morals, it's just the supernatural side that I have trouble with.

Those who see Christmas as a religious event are more than welcome to do so.

I suspect that the athiests who raise a cry at the sight of a Nativity scene are not the athiests they think they are or why would this have any effect on them... Guilt, perhaps?

I look at such things simply as people celebrating their religion as is their absolute right in this country. Since this country is (still) primarily Christian, it is only right that such celebrations are on public display. This does not prevent those of alternate religions from displaying celebration of their own nor does it interfere with non-believers celebrating or not. I don't get it. Again, what, exactly are they afraid of?

Merry Christmas from your friendly neighborhood agnostic!

Ok, I've added reader comment functionality. If you are actually reading this, leave a comment and say so.

I am completely fascinated with something I have recently discovered - the Iraqi Bloggers.

Here is a link to some to get started, it has links to most of the other good ones: http://iraqataglance.blogspot.com/ (beware of trolls when reading the comments)

These people are just incredible. Every American owes it to themselves to read them. This is something unprecedented in history. Can you imagine, for example, if ordinary people in Nazi Germany had been able to communicate their true thoughts to the entire world? How would that have effected WWII?

The bravery and wisdom of these Iraqis is nearly beyond comprehension to someone like me, who has led a sheltered life in the US. I hope that one day, all of their dreams for a better life become reality.

Yes, I realize that we have no way of knowing if these bloggers are real Iraqis or that they are really writing from Iraq. But I think that any reasonably intelligent person can read their words and see the ring of truth.

I strongly urge you to go check it out, no matter how you feel about the war or what your politics are.

***On a personal note, I have been feeling exceptionally wordy lately so perhaps this blog will start getting more attention from me. I want to figure out how to allow comments on my entries just in case anyone is actually reading this can leave comments or insults or whatever.

The late Dr. Atkins is my new hero. I started his diet just 6 weeks ago and have lost nearly 30 lbs so far. I am so tired of being a fat ass. I still have a long way to go (needed to lose at least 70 lbs or more) but I feel so good and so positive, for once in my life that I think I will actually succeed. I feel like a new person. Really.

Frodo Baggins: I can't do this Sam.

Sam Gamgee: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to Sam?

Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.

****

Ok, we made it past Ramadan and didn't get nuked. So now I have a question for you. This is not a troll or flame bait so I hope it doesn't read that way.

How will we end this? I have supported this war in Iraq. I figure we didn't really have much choice. I have also become a huge fan of George W. Bush. I believe that in 100 years, if we're still here, he will be remembered as one of the great US Presidents.

Having said that, though, I have to ask - How will we get out of this? It seems to me that no matter how many islamo-freaks we kill or capture, there's always going to be another insane asshole out there willing to blow himself up for Allah. I don't think they're smart enough to stop.

I guess I need help not falling into dispair. I see the near daily deaths of our boys and it hurts me in a way I've never known before. I came of age as Viet Nam ended so I do remember the daily body counts from that war but at such a young age, it doesn't have the same impact.

I read an article on FR yesterday where some nut was calling for the destruction of villages for every American soldier killed. Obviously, thats not going to happen. We're the good guys, we don't slaughter innocents on purpose. But what can we do? We can't run.. the attacks don't appear to ever end...

I read ALL the news and take it all with a healthy dose of salt. I read the good news that comes from Iraq, and yes, there is plenty. But I don't see how we're ever going to stop the killings and get out with the results we want.

As much as it hurts to say it, I think the lives of our young men is worth the cause for which they fight. We must defeat these terrorists at all costs. But sometimes it seems like we're up against an endless tide of death.

When will we be done? What are the conditions required for true victory? When can I tell my future grandkids that the world is, once again, a fairly safe place to be?

Its really hard to write in this thing every day. I'm such a lazy fuck.

I was born 44 years ago today.. yipee.

"One way or the other, we are determined to deny Iraq the capacity to develop weapons of mass destruction and the missiles to deliver them. That is our bottom line." - President Clinton, Feb. 4, 1998

"If Saddam rejects peace and we have to use force, our purpose is clear. We want to seriously diminish the threat posed by Iraq's weapons of mass destruction program." - President Clinton, Feb. 17, 1998

"Iraq is a long way from [here], but what happens there matters a great deal here. For the risks that the leaders of a rogue state will use nuclear, chemical or biological weapons against us or our allies is the greatest security threat we face." -Madeline Albright, Feb 18, 1998

"He will use those weapons of mass destruction again, as he has ten times since 1983." -Sandy Berger, Clinton National Security Adviser, Feb, 18, 1998

"[W]e urge you, after consulting with Congress, and consistent with the U.S. Constitution and laws, to take necessary actions (including, if appropriate, air and missile strikes on suspect Iraqi sites) to respond effectively to the threat posed by Iraq's refusal to end its weapons of mass destruction programs." -Letter to President Clinton, signed by Sens. Carl Levin, Tom Daschle, John Kerry, and others Oct. 9, 1998

"Saddam Hussein has been engaged in the development of weapons of mass destruction technology which is a threat to countries in the region and he has made a mockery of the weapons inspection process." -Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D, CA), Dec. 16, 1998

"Hussein has ... chosen to spend his money on building weapons of mass destruction and palaces for his cronies." - Madeline Albright, Clinton Secretary of State, Nov. 10, 1999

"There is no doubt that ... Saddam Hussein has invigorated his weapons programs. Reports indicate that biological, chemical and nuclear programs continue apace and may be back to pre-Gulf War status. In addition, Saddam continues to redefine delivery systems and is doubtless using the cover of a licit missile program to develop longer-range missiles that will threaten the United States and our allies." - Letter to President Bush, Signed by Sen. Bob Graham (D, FL,) and others, December 5, 2001

"We begin with the common belief that Saddam Hussein is a tyrant and a threat to the peace and stability of the region. He has ignored the mandated of the United Nations and is building weapons of mass destruction and the means of delivering them." - Sen. Carl Levin (D, MI), Sept. 19, 2002

"We know that he has stored secret supplies of biological and chemical weapons throughout his country." - Al Gore, Sept. 23, 2002

"Iraq's search for weapons of mass destruction has proven impossible to deter and we should assume that it will continue for as long as Saddam is in power." - Al Gore, Sept. 23, 2002

"We have known for many years that Saddam Hussein is seeking and developing weapons of mass destruction." - Sen. Ted Kennedy (D, MA), Sept. 27, 2002

"The last UN weapons inspectors left Iraq in October of 1998. We are confident that Saddam Hussein retains some stockpiles of chemical and biological weapons, and that he has since embarked on a crash course to build up his chemical and biological warfare capabilities. Intelligence reports indicate that he is seeking nuclear weapons..." -Sen. Robert Byrd (D, WV), Oct. 3, 2002

"I will be voting to give the President of the United States the authority to use force-- if necessary-- to disarm Saddam Hussein because I believe that a deadly arsenal of weapons of mass destruction in his hands is a real and grave threat to our security." -Sen. John F. Kerry (D, MA), Oct. 9, 2002

"There is unmistakable evidence that Saddam Hussein is working aggressively to develop nuclear weapons and will likely have nuclear weapons within the next five years ... We also should remember we have always underestimated the progress Saddam has made in development of weapons of mass destruction." - Sen. Jay Rockefeller (D, WV), Oct 10, 2002

"He has systematically violated, over the course of the past 11 years, every significant UN resolution that has demanded that he disarm and destroy his chemical and biological weapons, and any nuclear capacity. This he has refused to do" - Rep. Henry Waxman (D, CA), Oct. 10, 2002

"In the four years since the inspectors left, intelligence reports show that Saddam Hussein has worked to rebuild his chemical and biological weapons stock, his missile delivery capability, and his nuclear program. He has also given aid, comfort, and sanctuary to terrorists, including al Qaeda members .. It is clear, however, that if left unchecked, Saddam Hussein will continue to increase his capacity to wage biological and chemical warfare, and will keep trying to develop nuclear weapons." - Sen. Hillary Clinton (D, NY), Oct 10, 2002

"We are in possession of what I think to be compelling evidence that Saddam Hussein has, and has had for a number of years, a developing capacity for the production and storage of weapons of mass destruction." - Sen. Bob Graham (D, FL), Dec. 8, 2002

"Without question, we need to disarm Saddam Hussein. He is a brutal, murderous dictator, leading an oppressive regime ... He presents a particularly grievous threat because he is so consistently prone to miscalculation ... And now he is miscalculating America's response to his continued deceit and his consistent grasp for weapons of mass destruction ... So the threat of Saddam Hussein with weapons of mass destruction is real ..." - Sen. John F. Kerry (D, MA), Jan. 23. 2003

-=-=--=-=-=-=-

Just some food for thought....

New York Daily News - Ideas & Opinions - Charles Krauthammer: Critics are wrong, Iraq is moving forward

I used to think I was a hippy. I wore peace signs sewed into my clothes and kept my hair as long as possible. Contrary to the typical right-wing hippy stereotype, I was neither greasy nor dirty. I was plenty high though. I suppose, had I been older, I would have been out there protesting the Viet Nam war.

I wasn't really a hippy. I grew up in the '70's, long after the summer of love. Viet Nam was over by the time I was 14. But we tried to be hippies anyway.

As I grew up, I discovered that I liked material things far too much to be a real hippy. I liked stereos and big TV's - cars, computers and cell phones. Its hard to earn money and still be a hippy.

So I made the natural progression to left wing liberal. Or, so I thought. I had some decidedly right wing beliefs - the death penalty and capitalism mostly. I half-heartedly protested the first Gulf War.. I went to a demonstration but all I did was observe. Some of the people seemed kind of silly.

I didn't protest Operation Iraqi Freedom at all. In fact, I found myself getting pissed off at the people I saw demonstrating. I couldn't understand why they hated America so much.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that now, in my mid-forties, I find myself split in half by the great divide that is politics in the 0's... (Is that how to say it? you have the ''70's, the '80's, the '90's and now the '0's? Looks funny...)

There are apparently 2 Iraqs. In one Iraq, people are dying by the truckload. Bombs are going off everywhere you look, body parts flying all over. Its Viet Nam all over again folks. Our boys are coming home in bags and its all for oil.. or for GWB's lies.. (what exactly he has to gain by lying is rarely explained...) or for American Imperialism. We need to pull our boys home and let those poor people be! No wonder the whole world despises us!

This is the Iraq that can be seen on TV and other major media outlets. Despite the apparent horror displayed by the anti-war crowd, they also seem delighted by the whole thing. There is a certain good feeling to be had by saying, "I told you so!" Also, they are gratified, apparently, by GWB being made to look bad. He's a war criminal after all.. He's ruining our relationship with the rest of the world. He MUST fail! They also seem to feel that we'd better stop before we make them really mad and they hurt us again.

Then there is Iraq #2.

In this Iraq, most of the people, the normal Iraqis are grateful that we toppled Saddam. They want us to stay and help them rebuild their country and protect them from the bad guys as they recover. Our guys are still dying but moral is up and most feel that it is the price of freedom that must be paid. We are taking out terrorist scum by the bus load. They're coming in from all over to Iraq for a chance to blow up Americans. And sometimes they're sussesful but in the mean time, we're getting lots of them and better to fight them there than on the streets of New York. Iraq has become the Roach Motel for terrorists. GWB is a hero, a visionary, a brave man who is doing the right thing for the right reasons. We're winning the fight against terrorism and though it will be a long fight and our guys will continue to be killed, we are right in taking the fight to them.

So will the real Iraq please stand up? Certain people would recoil in sheer horror, "How can you believe the lies of GWB and the VRWC!!" (Vast Right Wing Conspiracy). Oh the horror! Thats when my liberal background begins to twitch a little. But then I think, why NOT believe them? Or, why should I believe the liberal left, anti-war crowd any more than I believe GWB? How is the little guy supposed to know? Am I to believe that the libs are any less capable of fabrication than the so-called neocons?

Both sides can't be right.. there can be only one Iraq. I suspect the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I know that the pro-American side sure feels better..

I feel lost.