Wednesday, December 16th: The many hats of friendship

There is an old scripture I remember from my days in Sunday School which can be summarized by the statement "a prophet is unloved in his hometown".

Before I go any further, for the record, I wish to state that I am not intending to in any way designate myself as a "prophet" or be compared to the big JC (or "haysoose" as we say up here in Denver). I'm just using this to make a point. It's my blog, so I can do what I want.

OK, back on subject. My hometown (from age 3 through college)was the small community of Sparta, Ohio - population somewhere between 150-200 people. It's in Morrow County, about 35 miles north of Columbus. Yep, it's that small. Sparta's biggest claim to fame is a former Major League baseball pitcher, Tim Belcher, who had a great career including a World Series run with the Dodgers in the late 80's. He's a good man, by the way, who is living in the community and raising his family there. The other claims to fame of Sparta are the annual Methodist Strawberry Festival, Highland High School (550 kids - consolidated from surrounding towns) and the legendary Lundy Stillwell (Rest in peace) who owned & ran the General Store for years. A funny story - Lundy actually used to let me pick up beer and cigars for my dad when I was a kid and take it home on my bike. Dad had called in the order and Lundy only gave me as much as was approved.

Sparta was a great place to grow up. We lived in an old farmhouse on the edge of town, across from the local High School. No major drug problems there - a little weed and some whippets were about all the hard-living one could do, aside from the occasional beer party. In a nutshell the kids do one (or several) of the following: Drink Beer, Play Sports, or Fool Around.

Pretty Norman Rockwell-ish, huh?

I had a great experience there, and was able to make many friends and have kept in touch with quite a few of them over the years, despite my time in Muncie, Raleigh, Cincinnati, and here in Denver. Several of you know that through a strange set of professional circumstances I have been given the priviledge of leading the design efforts on the new High School to replace the one from which I graduated. My firm in Denver partnered with my old firm in Cincy to be the Architects on the project. It's been the best of both worlds - I've been able to continue working with my good friends from Cincy, while living in Denver, and getting to spend a lot of time over the past 2 years back in my home community. My wife has also worked on the project, and has really enjoyed getting to know many of the people who I've known for all my life.

In 2008 & early 2009 I had been back in the community every 2-3 weeks, and was able to get together many times with old friends Kate, Chris, Megan, Dave, Shannon, Craig, etc - many of which I really hadn't communicated with for close to a decade. You know you've got special people in your life when you can sit down and it's as if the years didn't pass at all - we've had a great time reconnecting and talking about our (gulp) 20th reunion coming up in 2010.

So, getting back to it - my cancer diagnosis happened about 2 weeks after our major work on the project had been completed here in Denver - perfect timing for the project, as my illness didn't affect any professional obligations, but it did cut me off from doing any real work on the job and traveling back to work and visit. However, the outpouring of cards, messages, and support from everyone back in little ole' Sparta was amazing. My good friend Craig (If its free take it!) even came out and spent a week with us during my treatments to help out. Heck, even my junior high study hall monitor got word of my illness and sent me a card. Thanks Mrs Fulton - you're cool, I apologize for the hell I put you through in the mid 80's.

So, Bill you say - that's great. You had cancer and got a lot of cards - why write about Sparta, Ohio in your blog? Because I recently got a surprise box in the mail from Ohio.

You know what happened? About 15 of my high school classmates from Sparta who still live in the Columbus area got together this fall and had "Billapalooza" - a gathering of support for little old me. They put a care package together with a donation, a bunch of video greetings, and most importantly - a TON of hats. Everything from a sombrero to a 'short bus' helmet was in there. Many of these friends I haven't seen in close to 10 years - a truly touching moment that made both Amanda and I smile really big.

Jesus may have been wrong on this one- you can be loved in your hometown. I sure as heck have felt that way. I don't mean to discredit him, as he is the Boss of my Methodist Team. But I think I've got him on this one. By the way, the first picture at the top is my modeling of one of the hats they sent me - a "Colorado Buffalo" with some Rocky Mountain scenery in the back.

Here's to you Sparta, home of the Highland Fighting Scots. These 1400 miles between Denver and Morrow County don't seem too far at all.

CANCER UPDATE - the first follow up with my radiation oncologist is this Friday. Nothing fancy, they get to look at the still bald portion of my 'inner hip'. Golden Rays of Sunshine and body hair on your 'inner hip' (code word for crotch) don't mesh well together, and the hair loses every time. Just call me "half lawn".

CANCER SOUNDTRACK - "Hard Sun" by Eddie Vedder from the Soundtrack of "Into the Wild". Sorry hard-core music fan friends, I know you may not like this one. But I like Pearl Jam - and so does our good friend Anne. This is for you Mrs. East. The movie is good, and about a guy who follows his dream out West - I can relate. Only my story doesn't end with me starving in an abandoned school bus- I'd like to think that my version has turned out to be pretty positive, don't you?

Carpe diem.

-Bill

Thursday, November 26th: THE THANKSGIVING 'MAGIC EYE' IMAGE

Remember the 'Magic Eye' episode of Seinfeld? Take a look at this image below and focus on the middle - do you see it?

If you can't see it (I can't see magic eye images - so I won't judge you) I've interpreted for you:

One more reason to enjoy Thanksgiving 2009: Baby Baker coming this Spring to St Joseph's Hospital in Denver.....The best thing about beating cancer will be welcoming her into the world.



Carpe diem.
-Bill



p.s. 'Cancer Beating Soundtrack Song #2'


"Follow You, Follow Me" by Genesis. I saw these guys on their 'farewell' tour in '92 in Indianapolis with Kootch & Bogle - best concert I've been to, hands down. Enjoy this video from the 2007 "Hey we need more cash" tour. Go see them when they return - great musicianship & showmanship. Worth the tix prices.

Sunday, November 15th: A year in the life of Mr Toad's Tunnel

As I enter my last week of radiation treatments it's as if I'm nearing the light at the end of this particular tunnel of my life - a very dark, confusing, treacherous, yet simultaneously glorious time.

The past 12 months started with a lot of pain, a fun time working on some professionally rewarding projects back in Ohio, and a boatload of travel. I had no idea about this "Mr Toad's Wild Ride" when I entered the hospital in Vail thinking that my ortho hip procedure would result in a quick rehab and a pain-free hip.

Oh my, Life can take unexpected, unplanned turns that challenge you to the core of your being. But it will simultaneously teach you something about yourself, your relationships, and your world.

I've got what I wished for -a pain-free(relatively speaking) hip. But my path to this point was entirely different than planned. Let's just say that the light at the end of the tunnel got pushed back "a few months". You know what? This may sound crazy to all of you who haven't had an illness similar to cancer, but the lessons life-threatening diseases teach you are awesome. As my High School track coach and science teacher Mr. Harrell used to say: A DUBYA EE ESS OH EM EE - AWESOME! AWESOME! AWESOME! Those of you who hail from Sparta have a leg up on everyone else reading the blog, because you can hear him say it, can't you?

This year has taught me the importance of looking through the 'noise' of life and looking at your true inner being. Trust me, it doesn't matter how successful you are, how important you are, how many friends you have, what degree you have, or what kind of car you drive - when you are faced with the possibility that you will die you are instantly pulled into a 'second level' consciousness where all the stuff of daily life doesn't mean anything.

You look at your family, your friends, and your faith (if you have it) - that's it. In fact, I'll bet most folks who face this will gain an understanding of faith. You've heard the old saying 'there are no athiests in foxholes?" Well guess what, there aren't any at the receiving end of a chemotherapy drug line, either.

All the trappings of the 'stuff' go away, and you realize that we are all running to the 'next thing' to avoid thinking about the 'bigger picture'. Don't get me wrong, aspiring for success in life, careers, finances, and in your recreational activities is awesome - but I can really see how many people are unfulfilled and trying to give a meaning to their life based on stuff, substances, and power. I've been given the gift of an 'early sneak peak' of the one thing we can't run from - death. Facing the possibility of the 'd' word and being given the chance to return to a 'second half' (reference my earlier Hoosiers posting) is life changing.

I now believe that the secret of life is stamping your ticket, hopping onto Mr. Toad's little car, and following the tracks through the ups, downs, twists, and turns. While you're on the ride, you're supposed to savor the gift of every minute you have, cherish the people who cross your path, be honest in your relationships, and be true to your faith.

When I think about the past year, from last Thanksgiving in Breckenridge with Amanda and my folks, to this upcoming Thanksgiving here in Denver with both of our parents, I think about the hundreds of amazing people in my life - both old relationships and new - who've been instrumental in helping me stay focused on the task of defeating Lymphoma. Some of these awesome people include:

• Dr Philippon - the world renowned hip surgeon who discovered my tumor and delivered the cancer news with compassion & care.


• Terri - Dr. P's assistant who helped us get additional tests in Vail and arrange all of the appointments at Massachusetts General


• Rev's Dent, Slejko, and Marshall - The clergy at Trinity Methodist in Denver who went out of their way to show both of us kindness and support during my treatments.


• My new blogger friends - This blog has connected me to people all over the world who have been touched by this disease. They have inspired and humbled me, as I realize many of them are not as fortunate as I, and are at a more advanced stage of the disease - you all have been amazing.


• My old friends - phone calls and messages from Craig, Josh, Urb, Dave, Ben, Jeff, Tim, Nathan, Nicky, Kootch, Mike, Keith, Cindy, Barb, Bob, Kathy, Nancy, Tag & Jan, and hundreds of others have been overwhelming - all of you have made me appreciate our experiences together, and gave me the will to fight this off


• Family - can't say enough - Amanda, my parents, Siblings, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, In-laws, words can't express it, so I won't even try.

I've mentioned to many of you that a second version of my 'cancer soundtrack' is coming out to celebrate my apparent recovery. Instead of rolling it out all at once, I'm going to sprinkle the next volume of CCSI tunes over the next several posts - the first song on Volume II is a good 'syllabus' of what I've learned over the past year - how I've given out love in the past, and that "measure of my life" came back 10-fold in loving support from all of you during my treatment and recovery. The song is "Seasons of Love" from the 90's broadway musical "Rent."

I know that many of you reading this blog may have trouble getting past the subject matter of the show - there's all sorts of drug abuse, bohemian artists, alternative lifestyles, various people hooking up - it's pretty much a Jerry Springer artistic free for all - but the core message resonates with the lessons I've been able to learn over the past year. Check out some of the lyrics from this song, and then listen to the whole tune on the video below - it's impressive.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?

How about love? How about love?
How about love? Measure in love.

So take a look in the mirror and ask yourself - "if my doctor told me tomorrow that there was a 50/50 chance I might die - what would I change?"

And then go do it- NOW. You never know what the next year will bring.

Carpe Diem.

-Bill

p.s. Don't worry, I'm not getting all "new age hippy introspective" on all of you - I'm still the same old politically incorrect person you've always known, with a bit of a 'new dose of reality' thrown in.

Tuesday, November 3rd: Goodbye, third nipple, goodbye!

It's been a few weeks since I posted for all of you, and a lot has been going on as I've entered my new "thermonuclear phase" of treatments for my Lymphoma - daily treatments at the Radiation Oncology department.

The week after my last post was a monumental phase in my treatment - the removal of my "power port" injection apparatus/site - a.k.a. 'THE THIRD NIPPLE". Nothing like a little outpatient surgical action courtesy of your friends at Presbyterian/St Luke's Medical Center in sunny Denver, Colorado. I'll take the name of this hospital as a good omen, since I married a Presbyterian and am the son of a Catholic - even though I'm now on Team Methodist, the folks at P/SL are 'my peeps'.

It was a great step of progress - the removal of the port from my right chest. No longer will a third nipple be portruding from my right chest - the little three tipped (yes three) bump in my skin is now replaced with a Vietnamesque incision scar where they removed it. In the future, when the incision site heals, I've worked off my "chemo fat", am at the pool -I can tell people I got this 1" long scar "looking for Osama". After all, isn't the terrain of Afghanistan & Pakistan a lot like Colorado?

Back on subject - the port removal went well - I had forgotten how cool the nursing staff was in this area of the hospital. It was nothing but jokes all around. When I had the port put in, I was under some serious painkillers and minor anesthesia drugs, so the most I can remember from last time is laughing like crazy while they strapped me down and put it in there ( the port installation - get your minds out of the gutter!). Since I was only under a local this time, I could truly appreciate the humor of the nursing team. I wish I remembered their names - they all get a big 'thanks' for making another medical procedure in this journey reasonably pleasant. The worst part of the whole thing was when I heard a crunching sound - the doctor explained that my body had formed scar tissue around the port, and he was cutting through this 'shield' to be able to remove the device.

Lovely.

In other news, I've made it through 13 radiation treatments at the Cancer Center - so far no adverse visible effects - that is, if you don't count the daily blast of radioactivity 1000 times more powerful than a common X-ray. No sunburn, no chafing, and my 'boys' haven't fallen off due to their proximity to the beam. It's actually been pretty pleasant - the two techs who run the machine (Kierstan and Vivian) are pretty cool. It's pretty much a laugh fest in there all the time - we've been discussing the benefits of the show "Family Guy" and got a good chuckle out of my recently mailed gift from our good friend Craig in Columbus - the full banana body suit. Yes, folks - when you're beating cancer it's ALWAYS "Peanut Butter Jelly Time."

I am now the proud owner of a full-body banana costume. I'll wait to post pics until I can get the Slanket AND rasta hat on at the same time.

So what's the moral of this post? There is none. Do me a favor, savor every day - you never know when the doctor is going to look at you with sad eyes and serve you up one of life's big sh*t sandwiches.

Carpe diem.

-Bill

P.S. Who dey! Who dey! Who dey say gonna beat dem Bengals? NOOOOOO-BODY! Let's go boys- beat Baltimore.