City Slickers Part 2

Ok, Ok, stop with sending the money.  I now have several million in Monopoly money.  Darn, I should have specified US currency only.  Oh well, wasn't that good of an idea anyway.  Jane wanted to edit that out.   So this is my take on what that "one thing" was that Curly was talking about. I know it might mean different things to different people and interpretation is open to speculation, but this is my take.

     The one thing is "YOU".  Wow sounds kind of egotistical or narcissistic.  But believe me, it is not, unless used inappropriately.  You are the ONLY thing you have control over in this journey we are on.  You have no control over anything or anyone else.  So what is the only thing you can effect that will have a positive or negative impact on the people, places or things?  YOU.

     Now that you realize you CAN'T change that annoying friend or your nagging spouse, you need to focus on yourself.  So the important thing is how you can change and what you want to become.  We are a blank canvas when we are born.  As we grow and progress we obtain many attachments and may obtain bad habits from friends, family, and parents.   Now, don't go blaming them for your bad habits, they may have been raised by the same people with the same issues.  We need to begin repainting our own canvas when we realize that we can or need  to have a positive influence on the people, animals and enviroment on this earth.

When YOU decide to repaint your canvas, then it gets interesting.  You begin a journey; a journey to paradise.  The journey may be difficult and long, it may be unsuccessful.  It may take many tries to find your path.  It may take you into your sixties, seventies or eighties to realize the importance of making yourself happy. You can not have a positive influence on others and this earth without first having a positive influence on yourself. Period.  If you paint yourself as a compassionate, kind, supporting, loving and happy person, you will start to see the world in technicolor.  Days will be brighter, the sky bluer, trees greener.  And every person you meet will become closer, friendlier and you will feel a need to take an interst in them. 
    



Jane and I painting our canvas.

All those other illusions of success, power, money, cars, suits, one hundred dollar haircuts, all the ego boosters, will slowly melt from the forefront to the back burner.  I am not saying societal goals are all bad and that we should not work toward these.  I am saying they need to be placed in their proper priority,  Also, if you chase these societal goals with your new goal of being a better, nicer and happier person and a person that makes it a better place for those around you, then your life will be full and happy, successful and blessed.  Nameste. 

PS  Back to City Slickers,  I think Curly actually meant "family" as the ONE thing.  But you can't be a positive influence on your family unless you repaint your canvas and make it a priority in your life. 

Why are we here?

Wow, that's a heavy topic.  Do I really want to take this one on?  I know there have been books written about this subject.  I have the type of mind that if something can't be explained in a couple of paragraphs, it is either physics or too complicated for me to understand.  I'm a pretty smart guy, I think.  Not brilliant, nothing special, but I tend to look towards Occam's Razor and focus on common sense to understand most issues.  Have you heard the phrase, "Common sense is not as common as the name implies? "  I like that.  So this is why I think we are here.
     Everything can be compared to a movie.  Take a second and think of a movie that epitomizes why we are here.  There are many.  The one that got me thinking was,,,  yep, you didn't guess it,  "City Slickers."  It is a 1991 film written by Lowel Ganz and Babaloo Mandel, love the name Babaloo.
It starred some great folks but I remember of course Billy Crystal and Jack Palance.  Jack was Curly in the movie, a worn out, old cowboy at the end of his range.  Grizzled, prickly, mean, a man of few words.  He communicated more with his body language than his voice.  Off the set I remember seeing an interview, hell, it may have been at an awards show, I can't remember. Anyway this cat jumps down to the floor and knocks out several one armed push ups.  He was in his seventies.  He immediately became a hero of mine; he and Jack Lalane.  Anyway, I digress.
  Billy Crystal, who played Mitch Robbins, and his buddies were all going through life's issues.  I think they were near forty years old or so.  It is an interesting time of life when we spend an incredible amount energy chasing goals and providing for family and trying to be successful from a societal standpoint.  We have a lot of responsibilities during this time and the pressure can be intense.  Unfortunately, during this time of turmoil, we often have the least amount of support that we have had our entire life.  Think about it. When we are small, we have our mom and dad.  This lasts into our late teens. After 18 years of support, we are ready to fly the coup and launch out on our own.  School mates, our first or second girlfriend, our work buddies seem to fill the void quite well.  Into our mid twenties we decide to focus on one person to build a life.  Then kids come along and the support you were getting from each other begins to go out to the kids.  I think most young parents have felt the time when they feel alone, unsupported, always giving.  The wife is working hard to support everyone in the family.  The husband is probably on the tread mill of life trying to make more money to provide in a comfortable manner for his family.  Feeling the need to buy the necessary things that the kids need to fit in and manage their own small journey.  Anyway, you get the picture.  I was there. Most people I know are or were there.  It is universal, it seems.  At least in America.  Anyway, I digress again.
     So a cattle drive happens. (You need to see the movie)  Lots of problems ensue on the drive.  Mitch and Curly don't hit is off well, but Mitch can tell that Curly has some cowboy wisdom that Mitch would like to know about.  I remember something like Mitch asking Curly either the meaning of life or what's important in life and Curly being hunched over in his saddle thinking, contemplating and saying,  "It is only this one thing,"   He holds up one finger.  "One thing".  What?  What's the one thing?  Tell me, I want to know.  Damn. The guy falls off his horse with a heart attack.  Classic.  I remember thinking, shit, I may never know what the one thing is.
  
Fast forward, twenty years.  I am now 60+, dealing with cancer, having read a lot of self help books on peace, happiness, the spirit, The Dali Lama, Agape, inner light, reincarnation, near death experiences etc, etc.  But it wasn't until recently I realized, at least for me, what that "one thing" might be.  So now is your chance,  do you want to know the meaning of life?  Why we exist?  What is truly important on this earth?  Its easy, send me a self-addressed stamp envelope and a million bucks in small, unmarked bills and  I will be glad to send you a  hand written explanation,  in simple terms, how you can find happiness, improve the quality of your life and begin to reach your full potential as a spiritual and physical being while on this earth.  It will be worth it.  Don't wait.  This offer lasts only for my current blog readers and may be withdrawn at any time.  Gephardt Approved. 

    

Shawshank decision

Yesterday was a little darker.  It was rainy here.  I felt pretty good in the morning.  I went through my usual routine;  coffee, ensure, smoothie, shower, off to radiation.  The treatment didn't go as smoothly as usual and I met with Dr. Ying - but I'll get back to all that later. When I got home I needed to rest and spent most of the afternoon resting or napping.  During the nap there was the most amazing thunder and lightening storm, I opened the window and just enjoyed.
     The Shawshank Redemption movie came up in a discussion yesterday.  I internalized the story.  A man stuck in a situation he had little control over, eventually making a decision to risk it all and escape.   If you haven't seen the movie it  is worth a view.  It was written by Stephen King and starred Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman.  The climax of the film was when Tim Robbins escaped from the prison.  The escape seems to happen in three parts.  The first third he had to plan and begin working on a way to get out of his cell and the cell block.  Second, was where the" shit hit the fan," so to speak.  He was confronted with crawling a hundred yards through a shit filled sewer pipe.  Uggh!  Also, he didn't know what was at the end of the pipe or if he could escape from the pipe once there, added suspense.  Could he reverse his moves if needed?  Could he maintain composure during the crawl?  Would claustrophobia play a role if he failed?  I remember the scene of him at the entrance of the pipe.  Wow, what a decision to make.  Life or death really.  Would he survive the crawl?  Was it worth the risk to being free?  Where would this strength come from?  Can I do this?
     We all face these decisions.  We all wonder if we can do this.  Some journeys seem or appear harder or more difficult than others.  And granted, the degree of difficulty of some of our decisions are variable.  I guess what I am trying to say is, as Tim is pondering his next move, many things are going through his mind.  Probably all the bad things this will bring.  How hard it will be?  How many times will he choke and puke?  Is there enough air in the pipe to survive?  Is the pipe big enough?  On and On.  As he considered the options and weighed the pros and cons he decided, one, that it was worth the risk and two, the prize at the end of the line would be worth the risk.  He crawled in.  He frickin crawls in.   WOW. 
     I was a little low yesterday.  I had a hard radiation treatment and then met with the ever rosy Dr. Ying.  She asked how things were going now that I was two and a half weeks in.  Being the brave, strong, optimistic person that I am,  I said I was doing well. Small issues: some fatigue, nausea, throat soreness, and a cough.  She said "Oh that very good, now it start to get bad,"  "Hum, how bad will it get?  Like twice as bad?"  "Oh no,  five times as bad."  What? five times as bad.  She went on to describe sores in the mouth, inability to swallow,  extreme fatigue and, oh yea, nausea.  My wind stilled,  my determination lowered and I began to look into the tube of the Shawshank sewer. Yes, I will keep going. Hopefully, it will be better that what the mind can conjure up.  Maybe it is a protective mechanism, but I've found, through my life anyway, I tend to over predict the dread. After it is over, most, not all, but most of the time it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

     The support Jane and my family gets is awesome, unexplained really.  It goes to show how wonderful human beings can be towards each other.  I want to give a special thank you out to my family at the Shriners'
OR.  They stopped over to say they loved me and I hope they know I love them.  They are the best people to work with and I am so lucky to have worked daily with them for the last 15 years or so.  At our hospital we have a real family feeling.  The hospital is small.  2 OR's and only 20 patient rooms.  We only do Orthopedics so there is a lot more coziness and closeness that we all share with each other and with the patients and their families.  We work there for this feeling; it is certainly not for the pay.  We all laugh about that.  They brought me treats to help me along my journey; candies, mounthwash, sexy wipes, socks. bubble bath, chocolates and even some adult Depends (so thoughtful...).

Reminds me of the story when Jane sent me to Rite-aid to get the grandkids some diapers.  I walked in noticing the young pretty clerk behind the counter.  I asked,"Where are the diapers."  "Aisle 5 B, sir,"  came the reply.  I give her a wink and off I went to 5 B.  The only diapers on 5 B were the adult Depends.  What......Adult Depends,  Really........?  I left totally humiliated.  I can laugh now, though.....Oh priceless moments.   Namaste  
     
Screen reader users, click here to turn off Google Instan

     
    

Vignettes

I couldn't sleep last night.  There is this thing called Chemo brain.  I don't know what is is exactly, but Jane thinks I might have it.  A little slower.  Not as sharp. In a fog.  A look in the eyes as the brain is revving up to respond to a question.  Lots of ideas fast-tracking through the brain.  That's what happened last night.  I should have just gotten up and blogged at that time, but it was 2:36 AM when I looked at the clock.

Yesterday was one of the best days.  Not from a cancer standpoint but from a life standpoint.  Katie was still here visiting, and she accompanied us to radiation and Chemo on Monday.  Chemo takes 4-5 hours.  She crawled in bed with me at the infusion center.  OK, clean your minds.  She read me the beginning of East of Eden.  Bolte says the name comes from the Bible.  Cane and Abel.  Cane was banished to the land of Nob?  When asked where that was, he was told, it is east of Eden.  Cool.  Steinbeck, wow what a writer.  Who knew?

After Chemo, we went to lunch at the Melty Way, a gourmet grilled cheese place.  I had a Mexican Fanta orange soda that was awesome.  Cold, smooth and tasty.

After a nap, Jane and I went for a walk with Sadie, our dog.  The sky was brilliant.  Blue patches with Simpson type clouds.   Fresh air,  foothills, spiky tree on mountain vistas.

More nap time.

Eileen Csontos is a wonderful person.  We work together at the Shriners Hospital.  She is the most caring anesthesiologist.  She is a small petite woman and I am not sure where she keeps her heart, since it must be the size of Texas.  She wanted to do something for me, so she called and ran a plan by me.  She takes yoga, and her yoga  teacher is a young rasta dude who plays guitar and runs a class with one of his brothers.  James and Judd are their names.  She approached them about doing a home session for me.  James said he knew me?  The name was familiar to me, but not really.  Strange plan;  but I said sure that sounds interesting.  You never know how those things will turn out.  Our house is not very big;  Jane had to move the dining room table, chairs and the coffee table to make room.  We thought ten people with mats might fit.  Eileen asked some wonderful friends from Shriners and I asked a couple of people to join in; Bob and Susie. I wanted Bob to help with the music if it was strange,  also to see him meditate and do yoga.  He doesn't look like the meditative yoga type, but he is usually up to try anything.   I love that guy. We also had Judy: I played guitar with her brother, Ralph, in high school and I have a couple of his guitars.  He passed away from bladder cancer four years ago.  Susan B.  One of the smartest and most interesting people I have ever met.  Salman, my Bodhisattva.  Also, he has never done yoga.  Susie and Bob.  Jane, me and Katie, and Jackie, one of the recovery room nurses.  Our band played at Jackie's wedding and divorce party; she said the divorce party was more fun.  I hope she doesn't mind me sharing.

 James and Judd show up.  Young rasta hipsters.  Guitar and yoga mats in hand.   James Hardy, oh that James Hardy.  Yea, I know this cat.  I know his family.  We went camping together when James was about 12.  He had a little brother, Skip; who was hilarious.  Their mom and dad were animals.  I know Karli climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and loves the earth we live on.  Oh, that James Hardy,  I also coached him in junior jazz basketball in 6th and 7th grade.  We had two James Hardys on the team.  Wow, small world.  We set up the mats, dimmed the lights, lit the candles and James and Judd led us through a restorative yoga session for our group of 30 somethings.  Ha, on that one.

During the last pose, corpse or resting pose.  James grabbed his guitar and began playing "Into the Mystic" by Van the man Morrison.  Judd sang and OH my God.  That guy has a gift.  Beautiful voice, clear and bell like,  better than Van.?  Maybe.  The setting had a lot to do with the feel of it.  We then made tea, cheese and fruit and bread was served.  Lots of catching up and just being together.  Before it got too late I asked James and Judd if Bob and I could play a few tunes with them.  Being musicians that love to play anytime, they jumped at the chance.  We tuned up and Bob and I asked if we could play Into the mystic again?  Me on Mandolin, Bob and James on guitar and the wonder voice, Judd, signing.  Wow, it sounded good.  Then we played a Norah Jones tune,  "Love You Pretty Baby."

James started the third song with one chord and I knew what it was. I stopped him dead.  I had to tell a story.  When Bolte and I met and started playing together we were playing this song and that, feeling each other out as musicians do.  I said, "Hey, what about 'A Horse With No Name' by America?"  His face scrunched up, left eyelid elevated, right eye sticking out a bit, teeth bared, hand puppet-like with pointed finger a lot like the Grinch or Lewis Black, the comedian.   His voice seemed to growl, "that is the worst song ever written."  Period.  Enough said.  We have never played that song, even though I think its pretty good, wish I'd written it. Monday night I pulled the cancer card and we played.  Had the whole group singing on the "la la" part, and I think Bob had fun playing it.  I will find out in a few days.  I'll be sure to ask him.  We played Wagon Wheel by Old Crow, but written by Dylan and ended a wonderful evening.  Jane made sure I got to bed at a reasonable time.  She takes good care of me.

I am grateful for a lot.  I am grateful for everything.  Last night was very unique and special.  Spending the evening with  people I don't know well, but in such a close, peaceful, supportive community was awesome.  I could feel so much love, not necessarily for me, but just the love that people can have for each other all the time.  The Hardy boys seem mature beyond there years.  Judd had cancer at age 25 and had to under go Chemo for two years.  I kept telling him that's what gave him such a beautiful voice.  They are yoga instructors and musicians.  They embrace the concept of doing good, living in the moment, trying to see the best in all things, and helping others at every opportunity.  We should all be so fortunate.   Namaste  

Severity

I was thinking the other day, "How would I deal with a diagnoses that was terminal?"  Lets say six months to live.  Or maybe a 25 percent chance of a two-year survival? Would I be singing a different tune?  That's what I want to think about today.
     It would be a whole different ball game.  Or would it?
     I think I said in an earlier blog we are all going to die, we just dont know when or how.  If we did we would live our daily lives in a different manner.  Kinder, gentler and more open to relationships.  Or would we rebel?  Pissed, sad, depressed, angry, unfair, and act down right shitty.  Now those are two completely different approaches to the same situation.  They  also look from the perspective of the patient or victim.  We could look at this situation from many different perspectives,  Wife, kids, friends, your dogs.  But lets concentrate on our perspective first.  Like all moments, we live with the hope to be present and to enjoy the moment we possess.  That is probably the goal of all our lives, isn't it?  To be happy now.  To feel content in the lives we are leading.  To feel like we have run the good race, ending with a smile on our face.
     So if we know the goal, it should not be too hard to modify our behavior in order to obtain that goal.  Now I know we are all different and we all have different goals, Hell, there are eight billion people on the earth and probably as many goals.  Money, Wealth, Fame, and of course the biggy,
Power.  Goals, yes, but not what in the end will bring you happiness and a sense of a life well lived.
     So let assume our goal is to be happy and to help others be happy along this journey.  I am using happy here as a word that embodies the emotion of peace, contentment, compassion, well being, and success.  With our goal in mind, it shouldn't matter what's in front of us.  You modify your behavior and your actions to obtain your goal.  Easy.  Of course some roads will be harder than others.  Do you have a 25 percent chance of dying from cancer in the next six months or will you contract a disease that takes you out in two months?  Will you be in a motor vehicle accident tomorrow?  Or will you experience an emotional loss so great that it makes it impossible to function?  Oh, don't we have a lot to look forward to?  So much on our plates.  The trick is to not lose tract of  the goal.  Keep the goal in mind and you will be working towards a good and gracious outcome.  Lose track of the goal, like most of us do when beset by challenges, and you will feel adrift in a sea of confusion; unable to set a course or make headway. It ultimately is our choice how we face each day.
I know it helps me to stay more focused on happiness when I am surrounded by loving friends and family.  People who share my vision. 
     I had a goal of getting into medical school.  I took the MCATS  (medical admission tests).  I did average; scored 10 out of 15 in most subjects, except chemistry.  I got a 3....Ooops.  By some strange twist of fate I got an interview.  During the interview my score in chemistry came up.  The professor said, "this chemistry score seems a bit low."  My reply was that I have never had chemistry.  He said,"Well, thats a pretty good score then."  He made it clear that before the fall semester, if I was accepted, I would need to take the entire organic chemistry series, normally a nine month course, over the summer, in three months.
So my goal became to finish, and finish well, the entire year's worth of organic chemistry in three months.  I was focused,  It became a twelve to fourteen hour a day job; classes, labs, tests every two to three days.  I lived and breathed organic chemistry.  And,  I liked it.  Weird.  Consider this, how happy would our lives be if we put as much effort into being happy as we do obtaining other goals that don't bring us the same satisfaction?   Just a thought?  Namaste.

Dr. Ying is back

      Well, it is day 8 of radiation.  Thirty more to go.  Sounds like so many but that's what Dr. Ying says it will take to destroy the tumor. That sounds nice, "destroy the tumor".  After my radaition treatment Jane and I met with her for about 30 minutes.  She has been in China on vacation with her family for China's New Year.  "Very good time," she says.
     We went to the computer room and she pulled up my scans on the monitor.  She used these scans, and I am sure a very complicated computer program, to plan out the radiation attack.  It was fascinating in a morbid kind of way, to figure a war was being waged.   Hitting the tumor is like dropping a bomb and then controlling the area of explosion.  We got to sit and watch the colored lines expanding outward from the tumor in ever descending colors.  It was much like the contour lines on a US geological map.
We talked a lot about sparing the vital structures  while dosing the areas that need to be nuked.  After many questions, Jane and I thanked her for her time and wished her success with her battle with my tumor.  I will see her every week now that she is back and I will really look forward to it.  She has a wonderful smile.  A pensive look in her eyes, an air of confidence in her demeanor.  I am grateful for Dr. Ying, all her staff.  I am grateful for a wonderful facility and a loving wife and family.  I am also grateful for everyone that has reached out and said hi, and offered us assistance over this last week.  You know who you are and I do, too.  That's what matters.

  I love you all and wish you all the best..
Namaste.

    

On being four years old

     At a park somewhere in Japan, Nagasaki, I think.  On an Air Force base.  I am sure it was base housing with a lot of kids running around and lots of trouble to get into.  I have a brother, Ron,  who is a couple years older than myself.  I don't remember him on the playground, but he was always egging me on to do stupid things, then I'd get hurt and he'd run off laughing to the high heavens.
Rug-rats everywhere at the park.  When a older kid, 6 or 7,  Ricky Green, I think, came and showed us his new toy.  A bow and arrow set.  It was like giving us all ten pieces of cake with powdered sugar and candy on the top.  I remember the place went crazy,  Kids running this way and that.  This big kid shooting the arrow and us little kids chasing it down and bringing it back to him.  That was a pretty good gig for him; shoots the arrow all over the place and never has to chase it down.
      As things go, you have to "up" the game a bit.  He gathered us all around like a little football huddle and said, "All you guys and gals, go to the other end of the park and I'll shoot this arrow high into the sky.  If any one of you can catch it I will let you shoot it next."  Delight!  How cool.  I get to shoot the arrow,  I can catch it, no problem.  Off we went like a herd of little lemmings.  Some bunched in a group, some spread out and others in their strategic position ready for the first flight.  I positioned myself right in front, maybe fifty yards (or fifty feet, who knows) from the archer. I kept my eyes on the direction of the bow and where it was pointed.  As he drew the string back and raised the bow to about a 45 degree angle it looked as if it was pointed right at me.  "Twang."  The bow string was released and the arrow took flight.  Heading right at me.  Up, Up, it went then began to arc ever so gently.  Down it was coming and right at me.  My arms automatically began to raise, my hands made a circle ready to snatch the arrow from the sky.  I've got it, I've got it.  BAM,  The frickin arrow hit me just above my left eye.  I am down,  I can't see.  Kids everywhere.  Panic is all I remember.  God. my dad is gonna kill me.  I don't know why, but the next few minutes were a blur.  A red one, at that.  Blood everywhere.  You know those head wounds, they can bleed.  Then my mom is running me into the house where she turns on the bath tub and sticks me, clothes and all, under the water to wash the blood off and evaluated the damage.  This is the first ever recorded use of water-boarding of a four year old.  It was torture,  What ever happened to the phrase, "put pressure on the wound"?  The more she rinsed off the wound the more it bled.  After many minutes,  seemed like hours,  she gave up and took me out of the bath tub, wrapped my head in a bloody towel and took me to the emergency room.

     This all happened before Code Blue and Trauma One, but I do remember everyone acting pretty fast with my hysterical mom, carrying a frightened kid with his head wrapped in a bloody towel, into the E.R that day.  I remember 5, yea count them 5, airmen holding me down so the doctor could wash and sew up the gash from the errant arrow.  One airman for each extremity and one to hold my body and my head still.  This was full on war.  You are not holding me down,  I want none of this.  I am fine; let me bleed to death, I don't care.  Hey, that's a big needle, don't stick it in my forehead.  Augh.......
Stop it, Stop it.
    My mom was always sure that I would NOT go into the medical field.  You see this was just the beginning of a long and storied relationship with emergency rooms and doctors, none of which I wanted any part of.  I was always active, a bit hyper, a Daniel Boone sort of meets McGiver guy.  Always wiling to give it a go, but also very aware of what can await if taken just a little bit too far.
    Now, I am more mature.  Or, I've just given up.  Now I gladly let doctors stick needles in my throat, if it will help cure this thing that I've got.  As we grow, we realize that pain is just part of the game.  I have seen people in pain that looked from the outside as unbearable.  My heart and soul goes out to these people who deal with the upper levels of discomfort and come out on the other side.  Burns can be the worst.  Be careful with fire and boiling water.  That and a person's skin doesn't mix well.   The human psyche is strong.  You don't know how strong until you have to go through something.  The spirit seems to always rise up and be ready for the task.  Maybe not in that exact moment when the needle is coming at your forehead, but sometime down the trail when we internalize and find out it is for our own good and that those around us are on our side and only trying to help.
    Next time someone wants to do something for you, let them.  It will benefit both of you.
My two cents on another day in the life.   Namaste.