Just finished reading this.
04 September 2018
17 August 2018
07 August 2018
Like Diamonds, Chemo is Forever
When I tell people I have cancer and am undergoing chemo, they always ask the same follow-up question: “How long do you have to do chemo?”
It’s a natural question, made even more understandable because of the number of cancers that can be cured. You often hear people talk about finishing chemo, celebrating being cancer free, or having survived cancer.
For me, though, it’s a reminder that not all cancers are curable, that some chemo is forever, that not all patients can look forward to celebrating a life free of cancer. My cancer (myeloma), while manageable, is not curable. At all. I will take drugs the rest of my life to keep it in check with my fingers crossed that they will never stop working, or that the cancer will not somehow mutate into something resistant to them (or that I will not lose my health insurance). My cancer will always get worse, never better. The rate of progress might be slowed by drugs, but the movement will always be forward. Inexorably, inevitably, irreversibly forward.
I don’t think of this as a problem – well, not a huge problem. A lot of cancers are much more virulent than mine, many people are diagnosed too late to even take advantage of chemo and, for some, their cancers require multiple, painful, often-unsuccessful surgeries. I am lucky to be able to avoid that – for now, at least.
What does my cancer future hold for me? Well, lots of chemo for one thing, a possible bone-marrow transplant down the line, and maybe even a kidney transplant at some point. But, right now, I’m managing my cancer, like (as one doctor put it) a chronic disease, akin to diabetes. Not fabulous, but not horrible. At least I don’t have to inject myself with insulin all the time.
It’s a natural question, made even more understandable because of the number of cancers that can be cured. You often hear people talk about finishing chemo, celebrating being cancer free, or having survived cancer.
For me, though, it’s a reminder that not all cancers are curable, that some chemo is forever, that not all patients can look forward to celebrating a life free of cancer. My cancer (myeloma), while manageable, is not curable. At all. I will take drugs the rest of my life to keep it in check with my fingers crossed that they will never stop working, or that the cancer will not somehow mutate into something resistant to them (or that I will not lose my health insurance). My cancer will always get worse, never better. The rate of progress might be slowed by drugs, but the movement will always be forward. Inexorably, inevitably, irreversibly forward.
I don’t think of this as a problem – well, not a huge problem. A lot of cancers are much more virulent than mine, many people are diagnosed too late to even take advantage of chemo and, for some, their cancers require multiple, painful, often-unsuccessful surgeries. I am lucky to be able to avoid that – for now, at least.
What does my cancer future hold for me? Well, lots of chemo for one thing, a possible bone-marrow transplant down the line, and maybe even a kidney transplant at some point. But, right now, I’m managing my cancer, like (as one doctor put it) a chronic disease, akin to diabetes. Not fabulous, but not horrible. At least I don’t have to inject myself with insulin all the time.
31 July 2018
That Time I had a Drug Problem
This is a painful memory.
I had a friend who was a little younger than me. We met because of a mutual physical attraction. That part did not last long, but we did manage to forge a friendship that lasted several years.
Along the way, he got into body building, the kind where you build your body to (what I consider obscene) levels of muscle that would be virtually impossible to achieve naturally. He had protein drinks for breakfast and lunch, each including a dozen raw eggs. He ate actual food for dinner, but mostly steaks and other proteins. He ate an insane amount of calories each day. (I don’t remember the actual amount he told me, but I do remember being shocked at how high the number was.)
I found out he was using steroids to bulk up. This is not good. I’ve always been against taking any drugs I don’t need (recreational or otherwise) and it really bothered me that he was injecting himself with (get ready) HORSE steroids, the kind you give to a horse. He would go down to Mexico and get them.
I pondered how to react to this revelation. He was a very close friend and I loved him and wanted him to be happy BUT drugs? Horse steroids? No.
We had a long, intense, very personal conversation about how much this bothered me. It scared me. I feared for his life and safety. We both cried. I don’t think he really understood the ramifications of his choices. He promised me he would stop.
Several months later, I went to his house. We spent time together. I left. I realized I had forgotten something so I went back to his house. I went in and there, on the coffee table, laid out neatly, was a huge syringe and vials of (what I assumed were) horse steroids. He realized he’d been caught in a lie. I turned to leave. He tried to stop me. I kept going, shattered by the betrayal. I wrote him a letter telling him that either the drugs stopped or our friendship stopped. It was too painful for me to see him treat his body so poorly with such potentially devastating consequences. (Not to mention the fact he lied to me.) It was time for him to make his choice.
He picked steroids over me.
I had a friend who was a little younger than me. We met because of a mutual physical attraction. That part did not last long, but we did manage to forge a friendship that lasted several years.
Along the way, he got into body building, the kind where you build your body to (what I consider obscene) levels of muscle that would be virtually impossible to achieve naturally. He had protein drinks for breakfast and lunch, each including a dozen raw eggs. He ate actual food for dinner, but mostly steaks and other proteins. He ate an insane amount of calories each day. (I don’t remember the actual amount he told me, but I do remember being shocked at how high the number was.)
I found out he was using steroids to bulk up. This is not good. I’ve always been against taking any drugs I don’t need (recreational or otherwise) and it really bothered me that he was injecting himself with (get ready) HORSE steroids, the kind you give to a horse. He would go down to Mexico and get them.
I pondered how to react to this revelation. He was a very close friend and I loved him and wanted him to be happy BUT drugs? Horse steroids? No.
We had a long, intense, very personal conversation about how much this bothered me. It scared me. I feared for his life and safety. We both cried. I don’t think he really understood the ramifications of his choices. He promised me he would stop.
Several months later, I went to his house. We spent time together. I left. I realized I had forgotten something so I went back to his house. I went in and there, on the coffee table, laid out neatly, was a huge syringe and vials of (what I assumed were) horse steroids. He realized he’d been caught in a lie. I turned to leave. He tried to stop me. I kept going, shattered by the betrayal. I wrote him a letter telling him that either the drugs stopped or our friendship stopped. It was too painful for me to see him treat his body so poorly with such potentially devastating consequences. (Not to mention the fact he lied to me.) It was time for him to make his choice.
He picked steroids over me.
30 July 2018
19 July 2018
06 July 2018
05 July 2018
A Boy and his Books
As far back as I can remember, I've been a voracious reader. I was very sick as a child, with asthma, allergies and various other ailments that often kept me alone in my room. I would get nature books at the grocers, like Seashells of the World, a Golden Guide, for about a dollar. I would read Highlights at the doctor's office, and the backs of cereal boxes at home.Some time in the late 1960s or early 1970s, I began to purchase books through my elementary school that were made available from Scholastic Book Services and their Scholastic Book Clubs. We would get a newspaper-like catalog that listed books we could buy, and a form with check boxes to order what we wanted. Always excited to get the new form, I raced home, made my selections and then begged my mother for enough money to get them (they were really inexpensive). I think my book budget was about a dollar -- which would net me four or five paperback books. Then, of course, the wait for a couple weeks until the box arrived in our classroom and the books were handed out. It was a happy time. I wish I could remember the names of all the books I got through school. There were dozens, perhaps even hundreds.
I have a vague recollection of only one specific book from that period: Life Under the Sea. I think the reason I remember that one is the dramatic cover illustration of a giant squid in a fight to the death with a sperm whale.
16 June 2018
06 June 2018
How Much is that Doggie in the Catalog?
When I was a kid, growing up in the 1960s, my parents would regularly take me to three major department stores: Sears Roebuck, Montgomery Ward and J.C. Penny. We shopped in the stores, but my parents would also order items from the catalogues that we would go pick up in the stores. Department store shopping and catalogue shopping were both part of my normal life.
There were also Hanny’s and Korricks in downtown Phoenix (back when the downtown was still a shopping destination), as well as Diamond’s, Goldwater’s, and Switzer’s (at Park Central, then later Chris-Town).
As I got older, I made a point of shopping in (well, at least walking around) some of the great department stores along the west coast. There was I. Magnin, Macy’s and Neiman Marcus (San Francisco), Bullocks Wilshire and May Company (Los Angeles) and I. Magnin (Santa Barbara). Little did I know that, by the time I am writing this, nearly all of those great stores would be history. So many of the major department stores have closed or are closing owing to stiff online competition. I can’t remember the last time I was actually inside a major department store. Like so many others, I do a lot of my shopping electronically; even though I miss the big department stores and their catalogues. (I had a job at the Broadway Department Store in Chris-Town Mall in 1977-1978.)
Recently, becoming nostalgic for that department store shopping experience, I bought a vintage Montgomery Ward catalogue from 1965. This was not the year I was born; rather, the year I probably would have started to become cognizant of the purchase of consumer goods like food, clothing and entertainment items.
I hate to use a tired cliche, but it really was like a trip down memory lane. The dresses! The shoes! The televisions! So many things similar to (if not exactly) things in my house growing up.
Sure, online shopping can really be convenient and sometimes less expensive; but I miss the experience of going to nice department stores just to walk around.
There were also Hanny’s and Korricks in downtown Phoenix (back when the downtown was still a shopping destination), as well as Diamond’s, Goldwater’s, and Switzer’s (at Park Central, then later Chris-Town).
As I got older, I made a point of shopping in (well, at least walking around) some of the great department stores along the west coast. There was I. Magnin, Macy’s and Neiman Marcus (San Francisco), Bullocks Wilshire and May Company (Los Angeles) and I. Magnin (Santa Barbara). Little did I know that, by the time I am writing this, nearly all of those great stores would be history. So many of the major department stores have closed or are closing owing to stiff online competition. I can’t remember the last time I was actually inside a major department store. Like so many others, I do a lot of my shopping electronically; even though I miss the big department stores and their catalogues. (I had a job at the Broadway Department Store in Chris-Town Mall in 1977-1978.)
Recently, becoming nostalgic for that department store shopping experience, I bought a vintage Montgomery Ward catalogue from 1965. This was not the year I was born; rather, the year I probably would have started to become cognizant of the purchase of consumer goods like food, clothing and entertainment items.
I hate to use a tired cliche, but it really was like a trip down memory lane. The dresses! The shoes! The televisions! So many things similar to (if not exactly) things in my house growing up.
Sure, online shopping can really be convenient and sometimes less expensive; but I miss the experience of going to nice department stores just to walk around.
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