tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47031455347087317672023-11-16T01:20:31.390-06:00Eric with a CA blog about the experience of finding out about cancer first hand... or finger as the case may be.Breahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06676263772241043975noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-54057199253685328722020-12-01T13:00:00.002-06:002020-12-01T13:00:39.331-06:00Would you believe it?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="339" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Cfq2ioWCLOA" width="676" youtube-src-id="Cfq2ioWCLOA"></iframe><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSb-K5C3wLTVPZHk75qBMMT7DGB-ol7O52VvM15bYbOL65G3VXnfKjiROTqjQV8gDazxZrNLJf0b7bjbTeuVjX3wyMojd6uP3ExkETxsfODsOHgpt3-jPXcLfBiDm0SEHBNMV3OQTipQ/s1600/1606792563344560-0.png" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESlgm9vI1Xr4ya4NAOMTz8hY1xICX0feXhBDrP7v8AA_L-ixFk3UUZUuY_wk3i9ti05OLQCm9SBY8UXd_z3tg_orua9hoXm1jvFdeuYMF4braLOgoi_aG6xPyYIMv5hQuImFSZ9KgOoc/s1600/1606792560877965-2.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESlgm9vI1Xr4ya4NAOMTz8hY1xICX0feXhBDrP7v8AA_L-ixFk3UUZUuY_wk3i9ti05OLQCm9SBY8UXd_z3tg_orua9hoXm1jvFdeuYMF4braLOgoi_aG6xPyYIMv5hQuImFSZ9KgOoc/s1600/1606792560877965-2.png" width="400" /></a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">Sometimes people survive.<br />Sometimes sarcoma subsides.<br />Ten years of testing.<br />Surgical interjection.<br />Physical therapy.<br />Getting on with it.<br />It's clear.<br />The tests are clear.<br />The implications of that aren't. <br /><br />I don't have any more scheduled check ups.<br />Just come back if there are concerns... Cancer-related ones specifically (of course). <br /><br />So now... Eri? <br />Now what?<br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbjUkJG04zCVdg3gwYSrjmxBeun0rOZPePdP2p-Zfpe79JaGIj3Hyqufffp3Zwi2N5EpknSl-etGzU-pOX0_DZc2VRTs0BHHhojgnG5U-ktJMQml_EUhwMXhNKoGYfO3huuMIiN59oJ8/s1600/1606792557980235-4.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbjUkJG04zCVdg3gwYSrjmxBeun0rOZPePdP2p-Zfpe79JaGIj3Hyqufffp3Zwi2N5EpknSl-etGzU-pOX0_DZc2VRTs0BHHhojgnG5U-ktJMQml_EUhwMXhNKoGYfO3huuMIiN59oJ8/w384-h512/1606792557980235-4.png" width="384" /></a>Better, smarter, more accomplished men & women than I have walked through those doors but aren't walking this earth today. I am.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Now what?<br /><br />Gratefulness.<br />Responsibility.<br />Restlessness.<br />Humility.<br /><br />The journey didn't end, just the ritual.<br /><br />Chances are that something will pop back up eventually but there's no sense lingering on that. <br /><br />I'll enjoy not having to pay for an MRI every year (or more frequently). I'll try not to squander this added bonus time.<br /><br /> There's another person on the planet because the cancer didn't do what it could have. <br /><br />Now what?<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7JW8ZJ-rCW0I34zIlbOCD7kJZRsEWR5cjxQz9bO5RWHygAQKcNL3m_BOEuz7ve2svd_ZE4h2Rm94nF8weHTc8rYbyy9KzfBX8Nh4o7CMjQarTmcfTvMi2BJCRyK5HYYBwbCxxg2gqb0/s1600/1606792559724726-3.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7JW8ZJ-rCW0I34zIlbOCD7kJZRsEWR5cjxQz9bO5RWHygAQKcNL3m_BOEuz7ve2svd_ZE4h2Rm94nF8weHTc8rYbyy9KzfBX8Nh4o7CMjQarTmcfTvMi2BJCRyK5HYYBwbCxxg2gqb0/w401-h640/1606792559724726-3.png" width="401" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">The
specter of COVID-19 looms in the air now, it's clear that many are out
of practice in confronting mortality. How do we balance the common
inevitability of death with the immense value each life holds? <br /><br />Infinite value and seemingly infinitesimal smallness, coexistent.<br /><br />We
save lives that we can, but how realistic are the expectations? How
does one cut through the naivete' gently? Can it be done if one is
resistant or steeped in entitlement?<br />We will see.<br />What will be, will be.</div><p></p>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-32275816861355208892013-11-13T18:52:00.000-06:002013-11-13T18:52:38.534-06:00Hope there's no change and hope that there is. Well folks, it was about that time again, it was time for my cancer check-up to make sure I still don't have it (the cancer). Two days ago I got a call from a very sweet sounding lady that told me that the CT scan that was on my schedule wasn't approved and therefore wouldn't be covered my insurance. She asked if she could have permission to cancel it, which I hesitantly approved. CT scans are expensive (everything medical is) and considering I typically haven't had them in recent check-ups I wasn't all that concerned about it. What <i>was</i> concerning was that it sounded like it was the insurance company that was making that decision by forcing my hand.<br />
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I've been a pretty busy guy these past several weeks and the next couple days were no exception. I could take care of it once I got to MD Anderson. Granted this was much to the chagrin of my lovely wife who had requested I call yesterday... whoops...<br />
<br />After driving into the ever wonderful Houston traffic I was at least able to start off with my ultrasound which went quickly and normally and with no abnormalities. Mission <strike>accomplished</strike> started. I called my insurance provider and asked them why they had cancelled my CT. They were surprisingly helpful. The lady on the other end of the phone looked up my information and after a brief hold came back to explain that they didn't actually deny the procedure. In fact, she said, they don't deny procedures... unless they're medically unnecessary. This sounded a bit off because the end result, and the obvious answer really, is that insurance companies do in fact deny procedures and there's no need to beat around the bush about it. In any case, from her records, it sounded like the CT was cancelled at MDA's side which I confirmed with the caveat that they had said it was because of insurance being denied.<br /><br />Are you confused yet?<br />
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By this time another issue that I'd brought up when checking in at the ultrasound surfaced. In the process of canceling my CT scan, somehow my x-rays had been bumped to <i>after</i> my appointment with Dr Lewis. What then came to my attention to me upon closer inspection was that the x-rays were not only an hour after I was to meet with Dr Lewis but also <i>tomorrow</i>. Considering that I'm sure she'd like to see my test results <i>before</i> our appointment and not after (also I was not going to rocket-run back and forth from Austin again) I'd asked whether my x-rays could be done earlier. They suggested going down to the diagnostic imaging center and just checking in because they can normally just slot patients in as soon as they were available. That's what I did and that's when the other issue popped up.<br />
Apparently there was some block on my "account" that was preventing them from moving the appointment and checking me in for the x-ray. The receptionist said I'd just have to come back tomorrow... or call up the Sarcoma Center's business center. I called them up and a gentleman did notice a hold on the account, whatever that meant, and cleared it up. Apparently it was a glitch of some sort. Yay!<br />
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I headed back to the diagnostic imaging clinic and, low and behold, they were able to fit me in! The standard scrub top was given, I faced the forward, breathed in, breathed out, breathed in an held, then repeated the same on the side. Chest x-rays done. But what about my hand? The x-ray tech lady seemed to think we were done. I asked about the hand, she checked with her supervisor, he confirmed it wasn't on the order. They double checked and confirmed it wasn't there, telling me I should go to the Sarcoma Center in the Main building because they'd have to order it and there is a diagnostic imaging clinic there too. Ok.<br />
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A brisk walk through a number of corridors and the Skybridge later...<br />
I arrived at the Sarcoma Center and thankfully found no wait to talk to the receptionist. I explained my plight about possibly needing the hand x-ray and she told me it wasn't necessary because I had gotten the ultrasound of my hand and with the chest x-ray that was all they needed. This was still not quite satisfactory considering that all these changes had happened a mere two days before this appointment and it all started with a phone call that was saying insurance denial was the reason for the first cancellation. Regardless, logically it seemed to make sense that an ultrasound would be sufficient for the hand and that an x-ray would be sufficient for my chest. The key issue was the way in which things had changed up and the <i>stated</i> reasoning. So I wait. My appointment with Dr Lewis is coming up and she'll be able to clear things up definitively as to what is necessary and what is not. Ultimately my trust is not in the medical system anyways, I'm just letting it be a tool.<br />
<br /><i>side rant/</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>All this does bring to light the fact that there are some really stupid things going on with the healthcare system in this country. While we do have amazing and dedicated healthcare professionals, amazing technology, and continuous innovation, there are ridiculously confusing billing processes and relationships between those healthcare providers and insurance companies. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>All I know is that the way healthcare providers bill, sometimes reflecting insurance coverage, sometimes not, sometimes partially, sometimes mistakenly just plain screwy. We've wound up overpaying, accidentally underpaying, once getting a bill go to collections because it looked like it had been covered after all... it is nuts. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>So far every plan that I've seen, including the embattled ACA is equally flawed, just in different ways and it is frustrating. We have a healthcare system with strengths but I don't like calling it the best in the world. The billing/invoicing/insurance part is the worst I've ever encountered personally. I hope there's reform but definitely don't like the gist of the ACA either. I have a feeling those reaping the massive monetary benefits from a service people don't price check and find vitally necessary are playing two sides off each other to create confusion and maintain a favorable system for continued massive profit. Somebody please break through that, I'm happy to help. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>/side rant</i><br />
<br />Turns out it's been an all around rough day at MDA... Just checked in to my appointment with Dr Lewis only to find out that she's not feeling well and neither is her right-hand associate Gina, both of whom are out today. I still get to see another of her associates so all is not lost but it does potentially throw a wrench in the amount of clarity I'll be getting about the scheduling and testing changes. I got to see the same associate that had taken out my stitches almost exactly 3 years ago and she assured me there would be a total review of the needed tests just to be completely sure and that I should get a call from Dr Lewis or Gina. She confirmed that the chest x-rays and ultrasound looked good and that I should be just fine though!<br />
<br />
So the takeaway today is that there seems to be no change where we wanted it and I'm not going to touch the other matter again 'cause it's been a long day. Good night!<br />
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<br />Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-14480405096493402202013-08-20T23:29:00.001-05:002013-08-21T02:28:42.335-05:00Miracle - Not always flashy and not always what you'd expect. <span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I was just listening to a bunch of albums that I'd purchased but for one reason or another forgotten about. This one song came up and just struck a chord that resonated with me. The name and lyrics, as well as a video I just found by the artists explaining it further, is below. Although as far as I know, my battle with cancer is in a ceasefire, the line about cancer specifically caught my attention and given the nature of this blog, I had to share it. The sentiment in that couple of lines and the chorus is pretty much what was playing in my head and soul during the start of the cancer experience and these artists did a great job at putting it in music. </span><br />
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;"><br /></i>
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Miracle</i><br />
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">The One You Need</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">by </span><b style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Shane & Shane</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Every week I hear a story of a miracle</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">And if I’m honest I’m tired of seeing none at all </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I don’t need to see a dead man come alive </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">All I want is you to fill me up inside </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I need You Lord</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Even more than the air I breathe </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I need You Lord</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Right away</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I need You Lord</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Every minute of every day</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I need You Lord</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Right away </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Today I’m asking for a miracle </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Anything you got God big or small</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I don’t need to see the cancer go away </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">All that I want is to know that it will be ok </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">I need you I need you</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>
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<i style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;">Words by Shane Barnard</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Full song available here: </i></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><i>http://youtu.be/I8EJEUegKPE</i></span></span>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-2154316032189154992013-05-21T14:13:00.001-05:002013-05-21T14:13:26.055-05:00Winning doesn't always look like you'd think...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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The war with cancer looks different to different people and the outcomes vary as well. Apparently Zach just passed away.<br />
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He says near the end of this video that he'd like to be remembered as "a kid who went down fighting, and didn't really lose..." Ultimately with something like cancer, that's about how it goes. Fighting comes in the form of smiles and hope and a wanton disregard for death as an entity of defeat. It sounds like this kid succeeded. Good job bro.Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-5529083704714933912013-04-22T08:41:00.002-05:002013-04-22T09:02:27.111-05:00Techno Speed Metal - A blog in partial tribute of Peter Jackson, you'll maybe see why...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So 2012 ended as a cliff-hanger and 2013 started with a... "meh."<br />
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Fresh off the news that for the first time in two years there was something of possible concern that showed up, I was given a shorter window between check-ups and in mid-January, we were back at <a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/" target="_blank">MD Anderson</a>. As you may recall, my initial diagnosis had been synovial sarcoma. This was nasty in that it carried high risk of metastasizing and a high recurrence rate. Although by the time of surgery they were leaning toward low grade sarcoma, the exact classification was never really pinpointed. All that to say, finding <i>anything</i> was a potentially very high concern and I was prepared for the worst.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*Not* the ultrasound room...</td></tr>
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The tests included the same ultrasound and x-rays I've been getting for the past two years and they did again find the mass along my nerves. It took some work though. It was only visible from certain angles and it appeared to move around a bit as they pressed against the palm in different ways to see what there was to see. The thought of biopsy came up again but due to it's tiny and mobile nature, stabbing me medically was mercifully ruled out. I helpfully noted that it would probably not be super viable as I squirm and shake already without having a needle in a nerve center. Stupid needles...</div>
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I may have jumped ahead too much... </div>
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Just in case you're not familiar with these procedures, what normally happens is that you are escorted from the waiting room down several long corridors to a locker and changing area. Depending on what you're getting sonically imaged, you either strip down to you skivvies or, in my case, just take off your top and put on a hospital gown. You then meander (or get escorted) into the procedure room. They're typically nice and chill with minimal lighting except for a few canister lights in the ceiling. It feels very dramatic. So dramatic that at times I feel like perhaps acting as a coma patient having a monologe with the light from heaven or myself or something. I don't, but it'd work on camera, I'm telling you!</div>
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Anyhow, with the room being chilly and you being in some form of undress, they give you a lovely warmed blanket and have you lay on the gurney next to the sonogram machine. You get situated and you wait. Like I mentioned, the room is very dramatic and while I have been known to play Angry Birds or Words With Friends while waiting, other times I've just laid there and thought dramatic things. Things like, "will I remember all this to blog about?" and "Is this going to be the moment that I hear the bad news that starts another life-altering chapter of treatment?" Seriously, these rooms are basically ready for TV, "come to Jesus" sets.<br />
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After the sonogram technician finishes up in adjoining room(s) and comes into yours, it's game on. They say hello, make some fun small talk, and then pick a part of you to start on. Some start on my hand, some my armpit, I'm sure it doesn't matter. Often times I find myself in a rather awkward position like if you were pillow talking on your side with an arm propping up your head. It feels rather girly but it gets the job done. In any case, it offers a view of the screen while they're scanning you and frankly it's weird looking. In any case, it usually doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me but they know what they're looking for and use the keys and dials on the machine to type in notes and draw in markers of things they're observing. At some point during this, if we'd been talking, it gets quieter. Partially because I can't make sense of what I'm seeing and partially because I want them to be able to fully devote their attention to figuring out accurately what they somehow know what to look for. </div>
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After seeing what they need to see, they usually pop out of the room to review with a higher level doctor who oversees these things. Due to my possible neuroma lump, I've been seeing that guy a lot. I can't remember the Doctor's name because I'm a horrible person, but he's a very nice fellow whom I believe is either Indian or Pakistani in decent. In any case, on this mid-January morning, he came in again and informed me that the mass didn't appear to have changed in size and that while biopsy was still an option, he felt that continued observation was probably still the best way to go for now. He leaves, the sono-tech says I'm good to go, and I re-dress and head out to my x-rays a happy man.</div>
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That's my typical sonogram experience in a large nutshell. </div>
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X-rays, were a breeze and Dr Lewis' appointment also confirmed that continued observation would work unless something came up in the form of weird lumps or pain. </div>
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So that was mid-January's appointment.</div>
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The months roll by, Brea and I are travelling and working and generally being stressed and busy... and start feeling some pains in and around my hand, arm, and wrist. I think it first really kicked in when I was breaking down my drum set after a Sunday morning. One of the wing nuts on a cymbal stand slipped in my hand while I was loosening it and it pressed into my palm creating a strong bruise-like feeling. Super. </div>
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No sooner had I learned that there was some nerve scar tissue potentially growing and I just aggravated the area. This triggered thoughts of how the doctors warned about how surgery can let loose cancer cells and spread and considering that the thing in my hand was "probably harmless neuroma" and now it was hurting, a little alarm was going off. It wasn't crippling though, so I played it out and kept rolling. A month or two later and I still seemed to have some residual feeling of pain or tingles along my palm, fingers, wrist, and forearm. Eventually those feelings made there way out of my mouth in front of my wife and you can guess what that led to... "Call the doctor!" </div>
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Fine. I'll call the dang doctor...</div>
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After leaving a voicemail, Gina (one of Dr Lewis' crew) replied and said that they could set up an MRI to double check more thoroughly. It wasn't urgent enough to warrant a quicker appointment date but they were able to set it up the day before my previously-scheduled regular checkup. Done deal, way better than needle biopsies... except for the fact that MRIs involve getting needled <i>twice</i>. </div>
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Whatever, for some reason I missed the MRI, I wanted back in.</div>
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The day arrived and I headed in to get the first jab of the afternoon, blood work. I got called into a sassy and jolly lady's specimen-collecting station. I laid back in the chair and gave her my arm. She started getting thing prepped and started talking about a great movie she'd just seen. Apparently it was called "<a href="http://www.mylifetime.com/movies/dirty-teacher" target="_blank">Dirty Teacher</a>" and was about an illicit student-teacher relationship. She wasn't sure if it was based on a true story or not and so I asked if it was Mary K. LeTourneau. "Naw, she tried to kill him!" she said. "Oh," I replied, "Mary K just had the student's baby... in jail". "Not the same story..." "Nope."</div>
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Anyhow, aside from the discussion of apparently rampant "hot for teacher" cases gone wrong in the country, my nurse had skillfully and quickly drawn my blood without me barely noticing. "Boy, you' sassy" she commented. "I can't help it," I said with a shrug. "It's in your blood," she continued. "You should know, you're looking at it," I said with a wry smile. She laughed and told me to get out of her room so I did. </div>
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Blood work out of the way, it was off to the MRI. As it turns out, it was here that I was able to start getting caught up on blogs from last year. While doing that I encountered a grumpy fellow patient who may hav been about the same age but with a long and full dark beard and matching hair. Upon checking in they'd mentioned that they were running about and hour and a half behind so I was getting comfortable while he was getting impatient. There's always two ways you can go with delays and one just wears you out...</div>
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That aside, a nurse called me up, asked some questions and then went ahead and set up my IV preemptively. This was great for workflow for them, not so great for productivity for me. They stick it in the inside of your elbow and so it keeps you from bending it too much. It's a little unsettling thinking that if you do something wrong you might poke a hole out the back of your vein. This might not be that much an issue but since my left had was going in, the IV went in my right arm.... leaving me with a non-dominant hand with less fingers to do most all the work for the next hour or two. It was awkward, but the real awkwardness was yet to come.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUOLqy6YynR15xE295jnrnS8Ltt3zs57fXq-s-N8QMTSBnJ6LtkYYcMxFJe1bNIS7aGSrJGu5nLVOglfZqITRwF1NvXJGfOHJ-3r4Uw1Hm7ilSrhnGymCjodyYT7N50o4VLY8Aai_OIo/s1600/20130416-182557-DSC_0511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUOLqy6YynR15xE295jnrnS8Ltt3zs57fXq-s-N8QMTSBnJ6LtkYYcMxFJe1bNIS7aGSrJGu5nLVOglfZqITRwF1NvXJGfOHJ-3r4Uw1Hm7ilSrhnGymCjodyYT7N50o4VLY8Aai_OIo/s320/20130416-182557-DSC_0511.jpg" width="320" /></a>I decided it'd be fun to take a picture of my IV for this blog or stock or whatever. It turns out that it's not that easy to take selfies with a non-dominant, digit-deficient hand using a right-hand-oriented DSLR camera. After about 2 minutes of fumbling and barely not dropping my camera, I got <i>a</i> shot off. That was enough of that. I reverted to the smartphone camera and went about my one-handed pecking at the laptop. In a shorter amount of time than I anticipated, I was called in to the prep area and given scrubs but allowed to keep my shirt on since it had no metal in it. I wound up sitting in the little prep room for about 20 minutes before deciding I'd better take care of some business (if you know what I mean) before being stuck for an hour in the MRI.</div>
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Now I've debated whether or not to relate this following part but I've got the TMI disease and so if you read the next few paragraphs... you might wish you hadn't. </div>
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I got up out of my chair, keeping my IV arm straight, and headed out down the hall to the restroom. I got in, got the scrubs down and got comfortable. Business was conducted. Then it hit me.<br />
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I'm not sure if it was when I had to reach over my body with my left to reach the TP dispenser on the wall, or when I'd torn off a section and it was just there in my hand that I froze. "Crap (pun not intended), I'm not an ambi-wiper..."</div>
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It's a stark and alarming feeling when you're caught with your pants down and one arm immobilized by your side. I twisted one way, didn't feel right, twisted the other, still not right... "How the heck..." I know it's possible, how in the world is this just... not... working. I glanced up for a moment at the pull string you tug to get assistance. Mustering all my strength and intellect, and muttering a quick prayer of "Lord help me...", I drew on long-dormant Twister skills and began the mission. </div>
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You don't think about these things with the near-reflex, benign tasks that we do thousands of times in our lives. If you've never had a reason to change or challenge that motion, it becomes more physical than mental. I can only imagine (although my imagination is pretty capable) what that would be like for other more fully affected amputees or even people who have immobilizing casts... You just. don't. think about it...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKPvc6b76Uf9B7RO_SC_V2eU8tNVeXJEIBK1K5UcPUxwP84Y9UALAu0wAAjukn67mkGwNqrAHmWe9rJTYrjenadADa-F0Kzpl_PJgwrT4X1pLfebfYPlvsd4GmzTBfCeDJwCTdk299LQ/s1600/IMAG1342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKPvc6b76Uf9B7RO_SC_V2eU8tNVeXJEIBK1K5UcPUxwP84Y9UALAu0wAAjukn67mkGwNqrAHmWe9rJTYrjenadADa-F0Kzpl_PJgwrT4X1pLfebfYPlvsd4GmzTBfCeDJwCTdk299LQ/s400/IMAG1342.jpg" width="237" /></a>It ended much better than I'd feared in those first panicked moments. It helps to be flexible and it helps to be methodical and repetitive, just in case...<br />
So that day, I became like Derek Zoolander, who himself struggled with not being an ambi-turner (it's close enough, just run with it). In that hour of near despair, the struggle was won and it turned into a moment of <i>victory. </i>Clean and relieved, hands extra-thoroughly scrubbed just in case, I returned to my prep room a new man. </div>
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It was just a few more minutes after that when Brea was able to join me as I continued to wait. I'm not entirely sure she was quite as impressed with my story of adversity overcome but I got kisses anyways so you'll not hear me complain. </div>
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Eventually the MRI machine was freed up and my turn had come. From previous experience I knew that it might be while and that I needed to find a comfortable position. I forgot how impossible that was. </div>
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If you've gotten your head or leg or abdomen checked out, I imagine it's much simpler, you just have to lay on your back and stay still. Easy enough if not claustrophobia-inducing...</div>
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At least for my situation, they always have me just stick my arm up and out in a superman sort of pose but have me on my side. Imagine sitting at a school desk raising your arm up to ask or answer a question, the flip that on it's side. They then position the hand in a hard plastic open-ended basket of sorts and immobilize it with cloths and straps. "Now don't move," the technician says. I feel pretty good and the padded board starts inserting me into the machine.</div>
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Ca-lick CLICK CLICK</div>
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ti-TOK ti-TOK ti-TOK</div>
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WAAAAAHHH WAAAAAHHH WAAAAAHHHHH</div>
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It has begun.</div>
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My head is just inside the tube on a pillow with the right side of my face up. The clicking and ticking continue. It is loud. The combinations of amplified sound effects include hollow, rich clicks, tight wooden-like ones, and some sections of noises that are not all that different from a what you might hear as a bank vault alarm in the movies or even the computerized machine gun sound effects on toy guns back in the day ('80's & '90's). It comes in sets and waves. You close your eyes and breathe as a stead stream of wind comes down the tunnel at you. Several cycles in, I became more and more aware that it was much louder than I'd remembered. The alarm-like sounds evoked movie scenes where the facility was about to self-destruct in 3 minutes 49 seconds. It was like having my head underneath a car hood with the alarm going off. That would break and then came the synthesized machine gun fire sounds. Those passes were longer and it was probably then that the arm started to tingle and my ribs started hating me. "Hold still, you don't want to jack up this diagnostic... " I said to myself. I had to flex my chest and breathe deliberately to try and keep blood flowing and hopefully alleviate this lack of movement I was captive to... when will this end? Keep calm and carry on. There's not much you can do in there. Brea had asked if they let you listen to music in there, I was wishing they did. Earplugs... they forgot to give me earplugs. </div>
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Now they do give you a call button when you're positioned and ready to begin, but I was trying to power through and didn't use it. Several false stops later, with the agony of immobilized and sleeping arm becoming more pressing and the act of breathing seeming more labored, they techs paused to come in and administer the contrast via that IV I'd been set up with. </div>
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First things first, I asked if I could move. "Not your hand" was the reply. Ok cool. I rotated my body and shoulder. It was something. "By the way... do you happen to have earplugs I could use?" </div>
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It was clear my MRI tech lady was taken my surprise, not because the request was unusual, but because she'd just forgotten. "Oh my goodness I'm so sorry!" she said, hurriedly grabbing earplugs and then inserting them for me. "Quite alright" I assured her, "I was thinking it was a lot louder than I'd remembered."</div>
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The contrast was pushed and I was sent back in to the tube. Earplugs make it much better!<br />
This second round I went back to trying to picture what the sounds sounded like when a slightly new pattern emerged. It was like techno speed metal... a fast combo of kick and tinny snare sounding like it was played on a trash can and run through an audio compresser. It flipped back to the machine gun pattern, some clicks, then the speed metal and then more alarm bursts and then... well frankly I lost track. But it was over much more quickly and I was relieved to feel the board ejecting me back out. </div>
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Why on earth did I want an MRI again?</div>
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Perhaps it was the challenge of finding a way to do it more painlessly... definitely that, and wanting a more detailed picture of my innards... yeah, that too.</div>
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The easy stuff was the next day, depending on the results...</div>
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I could draw this out more but let's cut to the chase.</div>
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Ultrasound the next morning - Went just like the others. No noticeable growth. In fact, the ultrasound doc said that although MRIs weren't his specialty, he'd scanned them and didn't see anything worrisome.</div>
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X-ray - Golden.</div>
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Appointment with Dr Lewis - Cleared with continued monitoring. The pain is likely more due to me being old in combination with cold, and too much typing on the computer with a surgically altered hand that is perhaps a little more susceptible to that stuff. The thing in my hand is probably still just neuroma and nothing to worry about. </div>
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Yay!*</div>
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*in so much as you can ever let your hair down and celebrate a lack of immediate and impending doom once cancer has been in the picture.</div>
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That's the story folks. It looked like there was a chance of bad stuff happening again but we got a reprieve for the foreseeable future! All in all... another day in the life of an Eric with a C whose C in once sense is past tense. You're stuck with me... sorry. :) </div>
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Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-53885493516966967222013-04-18T13:26:00.000-05:002013-04-18T13:26:21.373-05:00Closing out 2012I don't know why but it seemed fitting that on the last appointment of 2012 there was a slight hiccup to the normal "all clear" with a small bit of something showing up in the ultrasound of my palm near some nerves.<br />
<br />
For a few minutes there they were talking about biopsy right then and there with a needle. As the potential concern was right around the most sensitive part of my hand I was not particularly excited.<br />
Luckily they relented and consulted with my primary physician, deciding to wait and monitor it. Upon reaching the actual meeting with my doctor later, she recommended continued observation with a smaller period between appointments at first to make sure it wasn't growing rapidly (if at all). Still somewhat unsettling, it was better than jabbing a needle in my palm.<br />
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I was asked if there was any tenderness or pain in the area, of which, aside from what I'd consider normal bruises and natural side effects from a bunch of nerves that were separated in the area, there was not. Dr Lewis related that what they were seeing was probably a <a href="http://pain.about.com/od/whatischronicpain/g/neuroma.htm" target="_blank">neuroma</a> which is common after surgeries. An appointment was set up for mid January and life went on.<br />
<br />
So that was the end of 2012.<br />
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Needless to say, this revelation prompted much consideration of the possibilities that lay ahead, both positive <i>and</i> awful. Had the probably inevitable happened already? What would they chop off next? Would this be the time I get a taste of chemo or radiation? Of course it could be nothing... or it could be something that just heals miraculously. Who's to say what could happen?<br />
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Uncertainty is a killer in its own right, if you let it be. There were (and are) so many things that demanded commitments and answers, yet there was this potential wrench in the middle of things that could foil any and all future plans I was working toward. That is perhaps the most challenging part. Not knowing, not wanting to panic, and not wanting to take it too lightly either. With a tough year for my business wrapping up and debts needing to be paid, I needed to find a way to right the ship, potentially take a second job, or just find a new primary one. But if cancer was back, if surgery was coming up, new employers would probably take a pass even they were interested at all. What could I actually do?<br />
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I'm sure these sorts of issues are exactly what many people with illness or injury face so I'm not under any illusion that this was a special situation. That said, it seemed a little early to have to start considering wellfare or disability. Frankly I'd rather be more useful for a short period of time than a burden for years to come. Perhaps that's my youth talking. but considering where I was at being pretty fully able, the prospects of further disability were not great-looking. But there was (and is) hope. Regardless of how things played out, things would ultimately (in the long run) be alright.<br />
<br />
A song by the band Needtobreathe called "More Time" came up and has the following resonating bridge:<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000TITOUK/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B000TITOUK&linkCode=as2&tag=oneseventwoar-20" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=B000TITOUK&Format=_SL160_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=oneseventwoar-20" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=oneseventwoar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B000TITOUK" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />
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<a href="http://youtu.be/nOjO8RZU-vU" target="_blank">Needtobreathe - More Time</a><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">Yeah, the road gets harder</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">But it's not much farther</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">It's gonna be alright</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">You know that it ain't easy</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">Please believe me</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: center;">It's gonna be alright</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001HRPQGI/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B001HRPQGI&linkCode=as2&tag=oneseventwoar-20" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=B001HRPQGI&Format=_SL160_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=oneseventwoar-20" /></a><br />
Then there was also a song by LeCrae that had some parts that stuck in my head too...<br />
<a href="http://reachrecords.com/lyrics/show/Change" target="_blank">Change</a> off the album "rebel" that basically talks about that drive and need to change when you see how broken things are around you and within.<br />
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These two songs really painted a the battle of desires that was going on. ...at least the more productive and progressive ones.<br />
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The tumult and uncertainty, as mentioned before, is a killer. <br />So quotes like this come in quite handy:<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm%2023:4&version=NASB" target="_blank">Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I fear no evil, for You are with me;Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. </a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just knowing that the world as you know it is temporary and that your trust is in its Creator is a huge combatant of getting lost in the muck. Trying to plan your way out of circumstances you can't control can be an exercise, but it's not the end game.<br /><br />So there was 2012 wrapping up. Eric with a C?</span><br />
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<br />Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-16388401306344778912013-04-16T20:57:00.000-05:002013-04-16T18:30:29.599-05:00What's a cancer patient's favorite gate number at the airport?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifANUT0WDp7JPGPRCI1MUzjwQcLrwYzBlOlC9CU7rlUyFHLcuwJ68FXTVq9qF-5tInQDrWi8EeLQ8jw7xzn757SmPHmoX0AO03l7TeOypERmohHj0MziP_Yfe5sLBEiD6J0pGSq5_0RnQ/s1600/IMAG0620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifANUT0WDp7JPGPRCI1MUzjwQcLrwYzBlOlC9CU7rlUyFHLcuwJ68FXTVq9qF-5tInQDrWi8EeLQ8jw7xzn757SmPHmoX0AO03l7TeOypERmohHj0MziP_Yfe5sLBEiD6J0pGSq5_0RnQ/s640/IMAG0620.jpg" width="382" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just say it out loud and quickly if you don't get it immediately... :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It's B9.</div>
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...'cause you like hearing whatever they thought they saw is benign... </div>
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Oh it's funny, just laugh.</div>
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Your compliance is much appreciated. :)</div>
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Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-75024870442292472692013-04-16T20:00:00.000-05:002013-04-16T18:29:54.220-05:00ConflictedWithin this past week or two, along with the insane events of Black Friday, Cyber Monday, and general holiday sales fliers, I've gotten a number of letters from charities of various sorts. Some are the standards; the local food bank, the Salvation Army, and the Red Cross. Others are from missions organizations, child sponsorship charities, and cancer-related organizations. There are a <i>ton </i>of people in need.<br />
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I think it was when I got a letter from the MD Anderson Cancer Research Center alongside some of the other requests for aid that a thought process got triggered. Should I donate more to an organization that hopefully has saved my life or should I donate to organizations that assist other needs? How in the world do we prioritize and choose between all the worthy needs out there? Is it ok that I dropped thousands of dollars (thankfully many more were covered by insurance) to save my suburban behind when that amount of money could have helped save <i>numerous </i>lives in an entire village in some place in Haiti or Africa? I don't feel qualified to make those kinds of decisions. There are 80 million photographers out there with a new soccer mom or college dropout (me) adding to the number of semi-pro or start-ups every day. Maybe that money that went to rooting out my cancer could have helped a group of people in mortal need and my eventual demise would help diminish the unemployment crises slightly. I don't know.<br />
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But who am I, or anyone else for that matter, to judge?<br />
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Having just wrapped up Movember which focuses on men's health (with a cancer-prevention focus), this subject was definitely starting to brew in my mind. I know plenty of people affected by cancer, some have won the battle, some lost it. I can see that there is a need to fight for both prevention and the cure; there are families that are dependent on those that pass and they have needs there, emotional and physical. It's just difficult to discern the value system, at least through the financial lens.<br />
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I had an emergency room visit a number of years back that was not much more than some scans and blood work. The bill from that non-life-threatening visit could have sponsored <i>3</i> kids <i>for an entire year</i>. It's kind of amazing really. (There was an <a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2136864,00.html" target="_blank">article in Time</a> about just that which really explores the craziness there.) One one hand it seems like a no-brainer that funding an organization that could save 3 or more lives would be better than just blowing it on one life's healthcare. It's easy to start thinking that all these kids, or those labeled "third-world" people, should be our number one priority.<br />
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On the other hand, they're human too, flawed as we are. We are equal aren't we? Aren't some destitute because they choose defeatism, succumb to foolish practices, and bend to corruption? Why not take advantage of the available care? We're in a situation where our income is higher but so are our costs. Is it better to be making $60,000 a year but have debt and yearly expenses that eclipse that or to be making $3,000 a year but have no debt and live off the land? To me it seems hard to say, and although there are certainly perks to "making it" within the higher income society, the odds of doing so seem to be sinking these days. But that is beside the point, what determines the value of a life, and how should we be going about making those determinations?<br />
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Of course some of those in need aren't there by choice or decision. They may have just been caught up in the mess of their society, don't know anything else, or just don't have the energy to fight. Ultimately they need help and we're in position to do something, to some degree. So how does helping ourselves fit in? Should we be more concerned one way or another? How can we be impartial and fair?<br />
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So it's difficult to discern things both through the financial lens and the moral one. The globalization of our lives has opened up possibilities to help far and wide but also deeply complicated our perceived responsibilities for ourselves and others. Before the amazing ease of communication across mountains and oceans, we didn't know of most other's problems and couldn't do much about it most of the time anyway. Now we hear and see needs worldwide and have means to actually address them...if there weren't so many...<br />
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Knowing about needs, and providing for them, has opened up the floodgates of aid requests in three shades; the real, the questionable, and the fraudulent. Unfortunate as it is, it is only human nature to digress to gaming the system. There have been scammers that take donations for real causes, there have been organizations that exist as much to fund themselves as serve those they raise funds for, and there have been many recipients of aid that decide to rely solely on that aid as a permanent crutch.<br />
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So while there is much good that has come and does come from charitable donations and focusing on helping those we deem "in need," there is also downside to overemphasis and poor execution of that aid.<br />
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So where does that leave the decisions about the valuation of lives? Where does that leave us in the decisions about where to give and spend for our selves or others? How are we to prioritize when the ideal is to love one another like we love ourself?<br />
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Perhaps it's about recognizing that throwing money at a problem isn't the answer. Money is needed; but more than that, it is human interaction, knowledge, and the passing on of wisdom that really makes a difference. Even so, the money comes back into the mix, although it ideally wouldn't be the factor that it is.<br />
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Donation requests fill a filing box in our home. Some are responded to, and others not. Where can we direct our resources to do the most good? Is there cause more worthy than others, a place? Should I donate money to the hospital that treated my Sarcoma? Is the money spent on that care enough? Is it our burden or another's? Does cancer treatment and prevention deserve a higher priority than feeding starving kids or freeing abused women?<br />
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As I write this, having started this post over a year ago, I'm sitting in an MRI waiting area at MD Anderson. What is the next step in this journey? The questions are still there with all the possibilities still looming. There is so much potential laying unrealized in a variety of paths. What if...<br />
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The following is a list of charitable organizations in no particular order. They all have merits and really it's just a matter of showing just a small spattering of charities that help others in a variety of ways and levels of efficiency. Click a link or two, see where it takes you...<br />
- <a href="http://www.redcross.org/">http://www.redcross.org/</a><br />
- <a href="https://www.salvationarmyusa.org/">https://www.salvationarmyusa.org/</a><br />
- <a href="https://www.themochaclub.org/"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">https://www.the</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">mochaclub</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">.org</span></a><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">- <a href="http://www.worldvision.org/">http://www.worldvision.org/</a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">- <a href="http://www.childfund.org/">http://www.childfund.org/</a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">- <a href="http://www.sil.org/">http://www.sil.org/</a></span></span><br />
- <a href="http://www.lls.org/"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">http://</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">www.lls.org/</span></a><br />
- <a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">http://</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">www.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">mdanderson</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">.org</span></a><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">- <a href="http://www.livestrong.com/">http://www.livestrong.com/</a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">- <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_69253626">http://thearchibaldproject</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><a href="http://.com/">.com</a>/</span><br />
- <a href="http://www.marchofdimes.com/"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">http://</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">www.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">marchofdimes</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">.com</span></a><br />
- <a href="http://www.komen.org/"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">http://</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">www.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">komen.org</span></a><br />
- <a href="http://www.unicefusa.org/"><span style="background-color: #fff8e7; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">http://www.</span><span style="background-color: #fff8e7; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">unicef</span><span style="background-color: #fff8e7; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">usa.org</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">- <a href="http://www.habitat.org/">http://www.habitat.org/</a></span></span><br />
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<br />Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-52767341296291203822012-02-02T14:38:00.000-06:002012-02-02T14:38:53.982-06:00February 1st & Rainy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7yVBuRk3NAKJmp7bMNSSAyGMb8J3cwT46h1QWcO-xTQb-H0sa2qiVGK4N0t9gX6EUXto4fhEmms2NHw7hOCq_QxmCXevv-PiPe5YjMk4oz2uRhOCF6v9fIL0BaDCIo3APdtBvQGSLvg/s1600/20111215-031722-DSC_0279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7yVBuRk3NAKJmp7bMNSSAyGMb8J3cwT46h1QWcO-xTQb-H0sa2qiVGK4N0t9gX6EUXto4fhEmms2NHw7hOCq_QxmCXevv-PiPe5YjMk4oz2uRhOCF6v9fIL0BaDCIo3APdtBvQGSLvg/s640/20111215-031722-DSC_0279.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Testing... testing...</td></tr>
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The first cancer checkup of the new year is here (if we don't count the annual skin screening back in January) and so far it's been a breeze. Appointments that were supposed to last until 12:30pm actually wrapped up around 10:00am and now I get to sit around and wait for the appointment with Dr Lewis. I wrapped things up so quickly in fact that I got to the main building with the Chick-fil-a in it's cafeteria too early and they weren't serving yet. Nuts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYhXxg0xVY89gUL-5rbJ2FoFR_UVtccd9LWsipfN8Q6u2KVU4OYQcx3niOmAOUfnwnzG58JibfJOF4lmAol5KZVL8XACwKfZrAKgfiGqqE1z4ZWnyn9ZJu9CGodWKg6aNKJz9R1S8lsg/s1600/20120201-100435-IMAG0124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYhXxg0xVY89gUL-5rbJ2FoFR_UVtccd9LWsipfN8Q6u2KVU4OYQcx3niOmAOUfnwnzG58JibfJOF4lmAol5KZVL8XACwKfZrAKgfiGqqE1z4ZWnyn9ZJu9CGodWKg6aNKJz9R1S8lsg/s400/20120201-100435-IMAG0124.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They encourage playing dress-up here. </td></tr>
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For now the periodic tests I get are just x-rays of my hand from three different perspectives, front and side chest x-rays and an ultrasound of my left hand and armpit. Pretty basic stuff. I'm sure I've mentioned it before but they use a warmed gel for the ultrasound which I'm assuming is probably the same stuff ladies with child probably experience in their appointments. It has as unique odor to it I'm still not sure how to adequately describe. It's a benign sort of smell that for some reason leaves me with an impression of feigned organic material. At the same time it seems like it almost has a light floral scent but one that is hard to identify. In any case, I'm not it's number one fan. It's not horrible but it winds up being my left side's deodorant for the rest of the day and when you feel like you might smell like someone's grandmother there's a certain amount of unease that comes with that. Then again I could just be imagining things. Why didn't I remember to carry a can of Axe with me?</div>
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The time drew near and I realized I'd been sitting in the lobby for a little too long and now had to rush to grab some lunch from the Anderson Cafe. Of course it was also the height of lunchtime and everyone and their mother and possibly one other person in their support group was also at lunch. I grabbed a sandwich, some nuggets, and a bag of chips; there was no place to sit. While walking around looking for a seat I popped nuggets in my mouth until finishing them. At that point I gave up, chucked the tray and headed towards the elevator eating along the way. Thank goodness for fast food. As I stepped into the elevator right after one other lady, I reached to push the button for the 9th floor but noticed it was already lit. "What a coincidence!" she remarked with a smile. I was still stuffing my face with the original chicken sandwich 9 out of 10 cows prefer us eat and, realizing it might be considered rude to do so, I committed another faux paux of manners. "I should have known better than to try and go to lunch at 12:30; that place was packed..." I said it with a smile that was masked by the lone appropriate act of covering my mouth with my hand. We neared the 9th floor and she asked who I was seeing, presumably on the off chance that we were actually going to the same place, "Dr Valerae Lewis" I replied. "Oh, ok" was the reply. And that was that.</div>
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After winding through the hallways to the Sarcoma Center, I finished the meal and washed it down with some water from an over-eager fountain. The waiting area was sparsely populated and I was able to check in quickly before sitting down. It was time to take down those chips. At that time a number of people started filling in and it occurred to me that now I was going to be making loud crunching noises. I am just a jerk today. With as much stealth as one can muster on a bag of Sun Chips, I took them down one by one, attempting to dampen the impact of chewing by moistening the chip in my mouth before applying the necessary force to break it apart, further chew, and then swallow. Who know eating chips could be so much work? </div>
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After that was taken care of I folded up the bag and decided to make a run to the trash and hit the restroom while I was at it. After dropping the bag in the trash I headed down the hall to the nearest facility and wound up passing by none other than Dr Lewis and a few of her colleagues. "Hi there Dr Lewis!" I said in passing. "Hello!" she replied with an smiling expression that I'm sure was one that encompassed an unexpected need remember my name that wasn't returning results quite fast enough. I made it to the restroom and washed up. It occurred to me that Murphy's Law might come into play and the attendants were probably calling my name in vain for the vitals tests that always precede these appointments. I hurried back down the hall. To my surprise I bumped into Dr Lewis again, this time with another doctor that now I couldn't remember the name of. "Where are you off to looking so busy?" Dr Lewis asked. I paused wondering if she really wanted to know the answer and also if I really wanted to reply as she was still moving down the hall and I'd have to say "just going to the restroom" pretty loudly. That would ensure most people in the Sarcoma Center would be over-informed of my whereabouts. I replied, she didn't. I don't blame her. </div>
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I got back to my waiting room seat and decided to get back to some photo editing. I opened my laptop and Murphy's Law reared it's head. "Mr Setter, blood pressure" was the call from the desk. My weight, temperature, and blood pressure were measured and I returned. The Nate Burkus Show was on on a TV on the wall, it ended and some daytime soap came on. A few minutes in some characters starting talking about how they were gay and a burly gentleman also in the waiting room fairly quickly got up and inquired about the ability to change the channel. Nothing else was on and it soon got turned to the 24hr weather channel which really is about the most unoffensive thing one can watch. It's also great to ignore and edit photos to, which I did. </div>
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After a while I got called to the room by a familiar face that I believe was the same doctor that took my stitches out but is yet another doctor I can't remember the name of. She led me in and I set up my laptop, anticipating another hour wait and some good uninterrupted editing time. The crazy thing is that the first lady doctor I'd seen (that I couldn't remember the name of) came in within 20 minutes for the pre-visit feel test of my armpit which I believe is really just a inspection of the lymph nodes. She caught a glance of a picture of the groom I was working on while he was trying to figure out how to tie a necktie. "He looks... intense" she commented. "Indeed" I replied. She finished the inspection and let me know that Dr Lewis was looking at my tests and would be in shortly.<br />
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Usually "shortly" means 45 minutes or more. I was pleasantly surprised that it turned out to be more like 15 this time. Murphy's Law had struck again. Brea had elected not to tag along for the appointments for the first time on the condition that, should bad news come in, I would <i>not </i>IM, text, or call her with it. If bad news came about I was to drive to the office, pick her up, and wait until the doors were closed before uttering a word. You'd think IMing you wife with a cancer diagnosis was a bad thing...<br />
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Anyhow, Dr Lewis popped in with her 3 cohorts and in great spirits. I greeted her "hello, how're you doing?" with my hand up in the air and the remark that I feel good and haven't noticed the finger growing back or anything. I was still sitting in the guest chairs with my laptop in my, well, lap. She sat down beside me and looked over at the screen. I had another photo from the wedding I was working on up. It was a shot of one of the groomsmen sitting in a hall trying to tie his tie as well. It caught a moment when the main part of it was flipping in the air and I'd rendered it in a very nice black & white. She was impressed and wanted to see more. I tried to back out of the collection I was focused on to show her some of my other favorites but in the process crashed the photo application. Nuts; back to the business at hand (pun intended).</div>
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"Everything looks clean, you're good to go!" Dr Lewis announced. Fantastic!<br />I mentioned that my wife would be happy to hear that and also mentioned the deal about communication of bad news if it ever came back. "You should totally text her something like --Honey, I've got some news... oh wait, I'll tell you later..." I looked up at Dr Lewis with an extremely large grin and she immediately retracted. "No, no, don't!" "That's awesome, I'm going to do it;" I said, "it's doctor's orders!" There was protesting but the seed was planted, it was going to happen in some form or another. We had had enough, possibly too much, fun so I beckoned them towards the door. "I'm sure you have actually sick people to get to, I won't waste any more of your time!" Before they left she did mention that she might have use of my photographic services for a party or something sometime and I gave her my card. That wasn't expected at all but she actually described what I do like doing. Capturing candid and semi-posed shots of real life and occasions. Coolness.<br />
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I packed up and headed out.<br /><br />I did text Brea too, it went like this:<br />
<i>Hey baby! Oh wait, I wasn't supposed to text you...</i><br />
<i></i><br /><i></i><br />
<i>It's good news, all clear again!</i></div>
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She did not murder me. The end.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAFdffJgreyLmYADBi-gSXwomH1mYuPTtes23DHG7twCI_62-7pQtUxOy7ep3ERlxuZGbN0gOHGexK9pf9jJ75S9OkT0WE9yP6jkwm-RRcEK-jVhQNaSTf6S2Q9EU-o1_W11B4-ws968/s1600/20120201-141044-IMAG0127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAFdffJgreyLmYADBi-gSXwomH1mYuPTtes23DHG7twCI_62-7pQtUxOy7ep3ERlxuZGbN0gOHGexK9pf9jJ75S9OkT0WE9yP6jkwm-RRcEK-jVhQNaSTf6S2Q9EU-o1_W11B4-ws968/s640/20120201-141044-IMAG0127.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stephen Tyler would love this floor. He'd probably have a coronary event upon stepping into one of the elevators.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYoAS-Lv1CgveGQDuL7pNL8OMjyIfhTf1Sl4HeLFgl_zvhF1EJz-BfeqHszeEE0LHpNuJ2FcRYG4xyMQaI4tamQWg0RjFCH-rapUJKvOAa-agAjqdJZzsuMfRID7oVA2fTMNckjBqIOQ/s1600/20120201-141338-IMAG0130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYoAS-Lv1CgveGQDuL7pNL8OMjyIfhTf1Sl4HeLFgl_zvhF1EJz-BfeqHszeEE0LHpNuJ2FcRYG4xyMQaI4tamQWg0RjFCH-rapUJKvOAa-agAjqdJZzsuMfRID7oVA2fTMNckjBqIOQ/s640/20120201-141338-IMAG0130.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For all zeppelins that is...</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-37940926894183852822011-12-01T13:54:00.001-06:002011-12-01T14:50:00.031-06:00It's been a year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2P1beIC00kqk13FeGjtG1hplncYWUaT3p3CAFjcvpvrFWiRZOw2ZEM7oZ19mOFpMNHnbIEyoWFUdxreZTulEvHgK8glviAOkK-VdTviOvJ4FC1qebi6QncyqMJJSPBDcNggSdYbo5X9A/s1600/20111115-173627-DSC_0087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2P1beIC00kqk13FeGjtG1hplncYWUaT3p3CAFjcvpvrFWiRZOw2ZEM7oZ19mOFpMNHnbIEyoWFUdxreZTulEvHgK8glviAOkK-VdTviOvJ4FC1qebi6QncyqMJJSPBDcNggSdYbo5X9A/s640/20111115-173627-DSC_0087.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeXywNSSgWyEO0OWADGcQeDlYaSj4aIQ0h34q0-ymuTW0_-Qj8WyFB4T1L6ZcmetIB_WRjYoVB1wPAb_rKkdmPvZel8lQK2gjOsOP-S0ORlHf7bgk5gvroiwxSaEwNIyp5gA13YmjDcI/s1600/20111115-175806-DSC_0158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeXywNSSgWyEO0OWADGcQeDlYaSj4aIQ0h34q0-ymuTW0_-Qj8WyFB4T1L6ZcmetIB_WRjYoVB1wPAb_rKkdmPvZel8lQK2gjOsOP-S0ORlHf7bgk5gvroiwxSaEwNIyp5gA13YmjDcI/s320/20111115-175806-DSC_0158.jpg" width="320" /></a>I've let the actual date I'm calling my "fingerversary" fly by a couple weeks ago but it has now been over a year since I became 1 guy with 7 fingers and 2 thumbs. So far the cancer last described as "Sarcoma: Favor low-grade" has remained absent and I am very grateful.<br />
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Brea & I were actually at White Sands National Monument on the actual fingerversary and it was amazing. I overdosed on photography but what can you really expect at such a stunning venue?<br />
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The other fingers are doing just fine, thanks for asking! They still talk about the missing Mr Middle but have become rather adept at getting on with daily life since his untimely demise. Halloween had them on edge a little bit as a prime haunting time but the only ghost sighting was the white plaster cast of my hand from before the surgery. Plans to carve a carrot and dress it to where it looked like a dangling, mostly severed Mr Middle never panned out which is probably just as well as there were a number of small children that may have been permanently scarred as they trick-or-treated at our house. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjQzxYEbm7wwZN8GS5a-KNvhFLQg9zAiCsc5Pa0DZNcS3XXnICGY7sYrzKPDcoZGQrxUlt7l6YVhYHQKFu-2nBoUzPu4HMnKVx_HcbuJODE8LwT6HVkwSlucNzLOv4HmGp9Q7vVYVRLs/s1600/20111101-115555-DSC_0429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjQzxYEbm7wwZN8GS5a-KNvhFLQg9zAiCsc5Pa0DZNcS3XXnICGY7sYrzKPDcoZGQrxUlt7l6YVhYHQKFu-2nBoUzPu4HMnKVx_HcbuJODE8LwT6HVkwSlucNzLOv4HmGp9Q7vVYVRLs/s320/20111101-115555-DSC_0429.jpg" width="211" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjQzxYEbm7wwZN8GS5a-KNvhFLQg9zAiCsc5Pa0DZNcS3XXnICGY7sYrzKPDcoZGQrxUlt7l6YVhYHQKFu-2nBoUzPu4HMnKVx_HcbuJODE8LwT6HVkwSlucNzLOv4HmGp9Q7vVYVRLs/s1600/20111101-115555-DSC_0429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>But today I'm blogging about something a little different. The month of my fingerversary also happens to be <a href="http://mobro.co/ericwithac">Movember </a>and I've been participating. We (a team started by fellow cancer survivor Roger M.) shaved our faces clean on November 1st and have been growing a mustache to help raise money and awareness for men's health (With a concentration on cancer prevention and treatment). Several guys in our neighborhood are involved and besides Roger, Paul E. has been a boss in raising over $700 so far. Today Movember is officially over but you can still donate by visiting the <a href="http://mobro.co/ericwithac">website</a>!<br />
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If nothing else, please visit this page and read up about men's health: <a href="http://us.movember.com/mens-health/">http://us.movember.com/mens-health/</a><br />There are some crazy statistics in there to read about but it all boils down to owning your health as much as you can. Get a check-up, get to know your family history, and work towards living a healthy lifestyle in diet and activity.<br />
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I've been doing a push-up and pull-up routine lately that's helped me feel a lot better and has had some surprising results in slimming me down too. The best part is that (at least with push-ups) it doesn't require anything but yourself and a floor but it still works your core (if you do them correctly). So please, get to it brothers!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">November 1st</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">November 23rd</td></tr>
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So now it's December and I'm very tempted to make it Decembeard. We'll see if Brea's had enough of facial hair for a little while though. I suppose she should get a vote...</div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-38701876432301840982011-09-28T18:24:00.000-05:002011-09-28T18:24:52.429-05:00Misnomer: The Battle With Cancer<div>
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People often talk about the "battle with cancer" whether it be winning or a loss but I feel like that terminology is a bit misleading. The fight against cancer is war.<br />
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You do have battles within it of course, but it can come back and attack you in the same way or potentially come at you in a totally different location or category. The fight against cancer, for those that have just completed a "successful" battle is pretty much like the Korean War. There were sacrifices on both sides, what could be done was done, lines were drawn, and there is an uneasy ceasefire. You hope it stays that way and dissipates but every now and then you might get a skirmish (what's that mole?, what's causing those aches and pains?) that usually turns out to be nothing. Still, there's always that possibility one side might launch a full offensive.<br />
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And now that I've got that thought out of the way, here's something just a little different.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOuvkrHnfWlQoq8bmhc7sBnuIS-2oLGBTmwFLTchnPfg-y2XhFpWo2piKA6XUH29ftB0n2yC10DjQjhSKueD3TgwxcqpHzhzPR0NjggdlCSzgAH-EuW6y1qgKYQrhLNvyR3oD_YQDUtw/s1600/20110928-101416-DSC_0183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOuvkrHnfWlQoq8bmhc7sBnuIS-2oLGBTmwFLTchnPfg-y2XhFpWo2piKA6XUH29ftB0n2yC10DjQjhSKueD3TgwxcqpHzhzPR0NjggdlCSzgAH-EuW6y1qgKYQrhLNvyR3oD_YQDUtw/s640/20110928-101416-DSC_0183.jpg" width="640" /></a>So what does a check-up look like for me? These days it looks a little something like this...<br />
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6:00am<br />
Ugh. Getting ready to head out the door and it is still dark outside. You pretty much have to leave early just in case traffic is bad and this is Houston so it will be bad.<br />
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6:30am<br />
Google Maps seems to think traffic is light, listing the route as green. Not yellow, orange, or red... green. They must have a relative scale because most cities would consider this "stop & go" traffic. <br />
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7:41am<br />
I just got done (4 minutes before the scheduled appointment) with the standard chest and hand X-ray. It's cool that it's first come, first serve. That helps when appointments are scheduled so close together. I'm always curious if the jitters from holding my hand in the positions they need will degrade the quality of the image but at the same time I know it is probably neglible. It's funny how sometimes I can just wear my t-shirt, sometimes I have to put a scrubs top on. For that quick 10-15 minutes, when I get to put the scrubs on, I can just about see Turk, JD, or Elliot pop in. <br />
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8:05am<br />
Now I'm just waiting for the ultrasound. On the way up to this section of the medical center I passed a baby grand piano and tried my hand (pun intended) at it again. I may have disappointed a lady that was sitting nearby as I am not actually a pianist. :D In any case, it wasn't chopsticks or Chopin. <br />
Ultrasounds are kind of fun but you wind up with a bunch of oddly benign-smelling goo on you. I don't know how it manages to smell both neutral and distinct at the same time but it does. One cool thing about it is that the gel they use here is typically warmed. <br />
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8:17am<br />
Still waiting to get called in for that aforementioned ultrasound. It does seem to take longer mist times but I'm still running early. <br />
One thing that I can't help but think about is a girl named Madeleine. I had gotten to photograph her back in March or April when a food fight was organized for her. She was diagnosed with multiple brain tumors years ago and had been beating the odds. Cancer took her yesterday. I suppose at least the fight is over and that provides some relief even in her friends and family's grief. <br />
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9:35am<br />
Wound up starting the ultrasound a little late but it was a quick 10 minutes for the actual scan and another 15-20 for the tech and specialist to go over the images. The cool thing about the ultrasound is that the tech has always given a reassuring "everything looks good!" After checking with the doc. It's not a substitute for my primary doctor's pronouncement but it is a nice bonus! <br />
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9:45am<br />
A quick brisk walk via the skybridge has me sitting in the Imaging Library and waiting to request a copy of the X-rays and ultrasound. <br />
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9:50am<br />
Done until the appointment with my Dr Lewis! I need some breakfast!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzA-aNGXZIxEH_YZATDoDfhhHJqKmUtE0wtG7JZLbfgldc3k9NeWRiiCUTLWIlXCJoF1AqNKfaBuKqdJ-anGEkMmBkrSc8KnU9YDhh0MUEjDrTsX4q-bN3VifjrkuHwoNEEZNtHLRZA8c/s1600/20110928-100300-IMAG0305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzA-aNGXZIxEH_YZATDoDfhhHJqKmUtE0wtG7JZLbfgldc3k9NeWRiiCUTLWIlXCJoF1AqNKfaBuKqdJ-anGEkMmBkrSc8KnU9YDhh0MUEjDrTsX4q-bN3VifjrkuHwoNEEZNtHLRZA8c/s640/20110928-100300-IMAG0305.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is actually Dr Lewis on a promo plaque on the first floor of the Main MD Anderson building. Hi Doc!</td></tr>
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1:45pm<br />
Checked into the sarcoma clinic... ok actually I got there at 1:52pm because I forgot how long it had taken to walk to Starbucks a few blocks away.... Paid co-pay. Whee!<br />
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2:00pm<br />
Got weight, temperature, blood pressure and pulse taken. Bam! Multi-tasking!<br />
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2:45pm<br />
Got called in to an examination room, possibly the same one that I'd come to to get my stitches taken out...<br />
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2:55pm<br />
Visited and interviewed by a colleague of Dr Lewis, Dr Chaffey. Was told x-rays looked good and ultrasounds look great. I told him about intermittent aches and pains, got it confirmed that they were normal considering the types of activities I'm doing and what the surgery had affected. Was told Dr Lewis would be back to have a quick look herself and then we'd be all set.<br />
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3:05pm<br />
Started playing Angry Birds app on Google Chrome to pass the time as the wireless network, while connected, wasn't delivering an internet connection. Boo...<br />
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3:10pm Noticed the wireless network finally connected with internet access and started updating this post again. :D<br />
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3:38pm<br />
Drs Lewis & Chaffey, along with two guest doctors arrive, much to my wife's delight. She had started seriously second-guessing her choice to join me for the appointment. One of the guest doctors was a Chinese gentleman whom I'd met at my last appointment and somehow mis-communicated with as I tried to speak Mandarin and he apparently didn't understand that I was asking if he spoke Mandarin or Cantonese. The other doctor was new and from Japan. Anyhow, Dr Lewis checked out the hand, my underarm, and explained my situation to the doctors. The bottom line? I'm still left-middle-finger and cancer-free. Boo-ya.<br />
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3:43pm<br />
Headed down on the elevator to the parking garage to get outa town. Wife, exasperated, exclaims that we just spent 2 hours waiting for the doctor to spend 5 minutes with us to tell us I'm okay. Another couple in elevator replies, "you've got <i>our </i>doctor?"<br />
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So there you go, that's what a check-up day looks like for me. It's a mixed bag of fun, drama, and patience development. Thanks for tagging along!<br />
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Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-55221705857456840412011-09-08T12:56:00.000-05:002011-09-08T12:56:12.295-05:00I've been thinking.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Over the past couple months I've been thinking a bit about my cancer experience. Although I'm getting very comfortable with my new normal, to the point I almost feel like my 5 fingered right hand is the odd one out, there are times that I'm reminded that my left is not complete. It's kind of a joke at this point, a fun party trick of sorts. With that said, I'm starting to pull back from that mentality to some extent and it's for two main reasons.<br />
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First, there is always the chance that my battle isn't completely over. The same sort of thing could pop up again but for all I know a whole other kind of cancer could strike. It should be unlikely but of course I've considered the possibility of relapse. It's not something I like to dwell on of course, it's nice that recovery from the amputation is pretty much done and I really wouldn't mind not having to go through that again, survivable as it may be.<br />
<br />
The second reason for pulling back a little on the more lighthearted approach is that I'm reminded often of people that had to go through much more severe treatments, lost more function, or lost their lives. It seems like I got off easy and in many ways I have. It seems like sometimes it's good to celebrate and enjoy that and other times a somber gratefulness is the way to go. Ultimately I'm able to be lighthearted about the topic because I've got hope that my life on earth is just a mist and that whatever physical ailments that arise aren't the end of the story. I hope that my outlook ultimately reveals that I really do trust that God knows what He's doing and I'm going to roll with it whether it looks good or bad to anyone here. I don't really know anything other than that, as much as I try to learn or understand. I am clay and am in the process of being used for something whether I realize what it is or not.<br />
<br />
Of course this doesn't mean I'm not still going to have fun with this whole thing but it needed to be said that it's not all fun and games and I realize that. The next checkup is coming up soon so hopefully I'll be able to report more good news in a few weeks!Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-34332826068221350412011-06-22T19:33:00.000-05:002011-06-22T19:33:59.358-05:00A-ok B-fine with me. C you in three!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGxbNQSwjC173GYn25rNaw21an3bn90HwRTCNfm017EO90_xNVRg4Ornglq6FLHhFk_P_punAcjP7__kbD5a2noRhUMPvFc6MmwnqYnFcDsEAg3zL3y0PoFYwUi7U7zZCztJtkVHILOrY/s1600/110323-182946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGxbNQSwjC173GYn25rNaw21an3bn90HwRTCNfm017EO90_xNVRg4Ornglq6FLHhFk_P_punAcjP7__kbD5a2noRhUMPvFc6MmwnqYnFcDsEAg3zL3y0PoFYwUi7U7zZCztJtkVHILOrY/s400/110323-182946.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was me at my last checkup and the diagnosis was clean. What's it going to be this time?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So I got my results from yesterday's tests and they called me a fatty... sort of.<br />
<br />
The ultrasound revealed some "fatty lymph nodes" that are *not* metastatic. The chest and hand x-rays came back clean as well so... drum roll please... Eric <i>without </i>a C it remains!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbR4eBrklR-_4MzY1EV4KaubVeOE9A54gcjENCTFet3agAP5AB6jzBb5xWLKpTf3qe6hqPHLDlF-x_kbt8QH_6sjTmgFWeIEiOPkwxpa9xkyANrJzp6JInQ85pJsw30Y8qGXhbJ5E5PU/s1600/110622-145531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbR4eBrklR-_4MzY1EV4KaubVeOE9A54gcjENCTFet3agAP5AB6jzBb5xWLKpTf3qe6hqPHLDlF-x_kbt8QH_6sjTmgFWeIEiOPkwxpa9xkyANrJzp6JInQ85pJsw30Y8qGXhbJ5E5PU/s400/110622-145531.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brea & I waiting for Dr Lewis to give me the once over and proclaim my status.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLwliR9e9Jqv5RQkMujBbQKm-G7t1_-0r9xorMMK5FqT_2XLQg7-oHyKL5oY23nYx8fZMJk6jRuU9mfx7poNg1BltzPLUlfQj1phnrK4uPn3RnwN9bmdfsS5dqBO2pufKTZZeD08_oWQ/s1600/06212011-HandXray2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLwliR9e9Jqv5RQkMujBbQKm-G7t1_-0r9xorMMK5FqT_2XLQg7-oHyKL5oY23nYx8fZMJk6jRuU9mfx7poNg1BltzPLUlfQj1phnrK4uPn3RnwN9bmdfsS5dqBO2pufKTZZeD08_oWQ/s400/06212011-HandXray2.png" width="365" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same hand, just a different day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU01ykAkeKCuNWL6FOuwd24QokW_4LpSJoE71w2_FfMvWFyss5Mhlb6uSmVK3neP7X5CUfDhLuZnlX3ao4wVDGoeC9jFbtrr_dD9NrlhaNTfMx2yRF4ELrlnkPYqYqO2O8b5Va2JbPC1M/s1600/06212011-US-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU01ykAkeKCuNWL6FOuwd24QokW_4LpSJoE71w2_FfMvWFyss5Mhlb6uSmVK3neP7X5CUfDhLuZnlX3ao4wVDGoeC9jFbtrr_dD9NrlhaNTfMx2yRF4ELrlnkPYqYqO2O8b5Va2JbPC1M/s400/06212011-US-1.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinda looks like a record in the left side ther doesn't it? I got the music in me baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOsxgaAzlJMt2dZVqoikgzxHVHnjkPfRvALDwrwSV4gKUXzlBFbLKPzqNYgKRXhvVOM3vmNicnsjWVSr9AyVNrwxSuDfazes5rCz8H2lyoU1OuWO-CUB3n_M2Q3SsnC-Frd5eQvOYPIU/s1600/06212011-US-2-alienface.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOsxgaAzlJMt2dZVqoikgzxHVHnjkPfRvALDwrwSV4gKUXzlBFbLKPzqNYgKRXhvVOM3vmNicnsjWVSr9AyVNrwxSuDfazes5rCz8H2lyoU1OuWO-CUB3n_M2Q3SsnC-Frd5eQvOYPIU/s400/06212011-US-2-alienface.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This kinda looks like an alien face winking at me... creepy. ultrasound...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-29993234256714943892011-06-21T13:09:00.000-05:002011-06-21T13:11:58.657-05:00Testing... testing... 1 2 3... Am I still cancer free?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoe8STSeG0TGV5MffEotTUpMzCtB6dyqgXErma0f074hp4awninUxe4tlmmeY0DapycILEg9b2ThgkOBwtvJ4nQFoBv3pCUaYy1-AgM1cTc5AMCksnTqhTdwZwGMFde4PFRQ0vbkvQvG4/s1600/20110529-201540-DSC_0666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoe8STSeG0TGV5MffEotTUpMzCtB6dyqgXErma0f074hp4awninUxe4tlmmeY0DapycILEg9b2ThgkOBwtvJ4nQFoBv3pCUaYy1-AgM1cTc5AMCksnTqhTdwZwGMFde4PFRQ0vbkvQvG4/s400/20110529-201540-DSC_0666.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Welcome yet again to another episode of Do I Have Cancer!<br />
<br />
Today we'll be testing to find out whether "Eric with a C " is actually still Eric <i>without </i>the C." On the docket are the standard hand and chest x-rays, blood work, and an ultrasound of my lymph nodes, exciting stuff! If guessed correctly, contestants win.... absolutely nothing but the satisfaction of having guessed correctly.<br />
<br />
What a crappy game show.<br />
<br />
Still, it's fun to be regularly scanned and studied although not as much as folks on dialysis or business travelers that fly wearing turbans. I do not envy them.<br />
<br />
On a much happier note, some relatives of mine who were also affected with cancer got featured in <a href="http://www.adn.com/2011/06/16/1921132/race-brings-out-the-best-in-survivors.html">an interview with the Anchorage Daily News</a> up in Alaska. I didn't even know they were up there but Alaska is a pretty cool place from what I hear, no pun intended.<br />
<br />
<i>"From Virginia Garner's pay-it-forward perspective, clinical research saved her life, which made it her duty -- her honor, really -- to help fund further research in the quest to cure leukemia.""</i><br />
<br />
They're up there for the 2011 Mayor's Marathon which raises money for cancer research and I know they've been promoting the Leukemia and Lymphoma Foundation for some time now. I need to get off my butt and do a 5k or triathlon for the cause too but as of the moment, I'm yet to contribute much more than my time and experience.<br />
<i> </i><br />
The photos I've included in this post are actually of a WaterNow benefit concert I got to be a part of a few weeks back on the day before Memorial Day. Does that count for something even though it's not cancer related? I sure hope so! :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8As4RZ7JwbfJ6zKXiv1yMaxPyu7PrW8K-m7GQCQo9D1vedc7pr2CKffzNVIHWLSrqQvzcOdjgXxVSVlnTqp4qn94_uqAhLW_2XbYqc9QmDlTUFAll7-N3qAi6TrBeou8Ws0RVnFZDTV4/s1600/20110529-201902-DSC_0678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8As4RZ7JwbfJ6zKXiv1yMaxPyu7PrW8K-m7GQCQo9D1vedc7pr2CKffzNVIHWLSrqQvzcOdjgXxVSVlnTqp4qn94_uqAhLW_2XbYqc9QmDlTUFAll7-N3qAi6TrBeou8Ws0RVnFZDTV4/s400/20110529-201902-DSC_0678.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i> </i>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-27781448278349435412011-05-20T14:30:00.000-05:002011-05-20T14:30:10.037-05:00Top Ten: The Cool Side of Cancer (for me)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMq8I89YPbiYzEtXWy7zq_okWJf72nLUqyhZwFV68Xz6aKduYSosJysDnOshWtThj8xHGrlZ9L3Sw2ikzIi6ulXNgESpiPUTPR_krlGwLzZJ57og_deTtWoDVWBx53uTZRdZvG15WzRj0/s1600/toptencoolthingsaboutcancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMq8I89YPbiYzEtXWy7zq_okWJf72nLUqyhZwFV68Xz6aKduYSosJysDnOshWtThj8xHGrlZ9L3Sw2ikzIi6ulXNgESpiPUTPR_krlGwLzZJ57og_deTtWoDVWBx53uTZRdZvG15WzRj0/s400/toptencoolthingsaboutcancer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I'm not sure why but I just got the inspiration to do this. Just call me David Eric Letterman. <br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>#1 I got "The Cancer Card"</b><br />
Having lost my man card on weekly basis, never having been given a race card, and having found normal decks of cards largely useless to me, the cancer card was a wonderful gift to keep in my pocket for emergency situations. <br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>#2 Chicks dig scars</b><br />
Yup, thanks to cancer, I got a pretty wicked one right on my hand. I'm pretty sure my wife now loves me at least 238% more than she did before I got it so I count that as a win. A good portion of cancers seem to require some sort of surgery which means, to some extent, you're getting a sweet fleshy souvenir for your troubles. <br />
<br />
<b>#3 Association with fighting</b><br />
Who doesn't like sounding tough? Cancer is a cruel mistress and you do have to fight it and makes you, yup, a fighter! How cool is that? Very.<br />
<br />
<b>#4 Association with surviving</b><br />
Surviving is equally as cool because you freakin' <i>survived</i>. I'm not sure if you knew this but cancer <i>kills </i>so escaping that is kinda a big deal.<br />
<br />
<b>#5 You get incentive to get busy livin'</b><br />
Granted, if you're a little shy and your extreme sports budget is low, or if you don't want to jump from the cancer train right onto the diabetes train with overindulgence you might get a slow start but still.... talk about a jolt of adrenaline! Who knows if that sneaky crap will come back or get ya? While you can you want to live and do it well. That's a plus in my book. Just watch out for procrastinitis...<br />
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<b>#6 You can make up fun stories when people ask you about your scar</b><br />
You can lead them down intricate fabrications that sound awesome and then when you break the truth to them at the end,<i> the story is still awesome</i>! Very fun with people you've just met or kids. :-D<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>#7 Getting to have regular checkup appointments makes you sound important</b><br />
Sorry, I'm going to be out of town for an appointment... That's almost like having a private jet or helicopter to head out to investor meetings or project inspections. That's big league son!<br />
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<b>#8 Everything that people say might give you cancer scares you a little less</b><br />
Pfff, been there done that. What's that? coffee might give me cancer? Sun? Sunscreen lotion? Cell phones? Water bottles? Smiling babies? The cure for cancer might give me cancer? Whatever, just throw it in the corner with my other cancer. Pansies... I know this crap.<br />
Ok, in reality you might be more aware and take some precaution, but the mystique is pretty diminished.<br />
<br />
<b>#9 Veterans and war stories</b><br />
Ever seen Saving Private Ryan or Band of Brothers? Have a relative that has war buddies? That's a pretty cool bond and you get something in the same family when it comes to the battle with cancer. You get a whole community that better understands the nutty medical terminology, knows why margins are so important, and is also largely numbed to the sticker shock of medical bills. Shoot, we even share similar injuries with actual soldiers and the main difference is that the people that took our body parts were probably not actually trying to kill us.<br />
By the way, thank you service men and women for the very difficult tasks you do for us everyday!<br />
<br />
<b>#10 You get to see who has mushy feelings for you</b><br />
Yeah, this could go both ways. Eww, gross, emotions and junk... But still, beyond the embarrassment of being cared for it is pretty amazing to see people come out of the woodwork to support you or let you know they at least empathize with a difficult situation. It's actually pretty huge to get good support so if you know someone who's been diagnoses, give 'em some love!Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-80759509855320052012011-05-17T14:52:00.000-05:002011-05-17T15:13:50.593-05:00Cancer gave me a metronome....or at least heavily subsidized it.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000AAGM0M/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&tag=oneseventwoar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=B000AAGM0M"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&Format=_SL160_&ASIN=B000AAGM0M&MarketPlace=US&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&tag=oneseventwoar-20&ServiceVersion=20070822" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=&l=as2&o=1&a=B000AAGM0M&camp=217145&creative=399349" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /><br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I still think cancer is still a heck of a jerk, but at least it seems to be trying to make amends. A week or so ago, my friend/neighbor/fellow cancer survivor and thrive-er Roger and I went to a Live Strong focus group that was aimed at finding out what the needs of the young adult cancer community are. As a thank-you for our time, we got a gift card. Now, thanks to that thank-you, I'm the proud owner of a combination tuner/metronome which will help out especially with all the non-free-jazz I'm playing these days.<br />
<br />
Upon second thought, it wasn't actually cancer that gave me that tool it was the nice folks at the <a href="http://www.utexas.edu/">University of Texas</a> and <a href="http://www.livestrong.org/">LiveStrong</a>. Stupid cancer...<br />
<br />
I suppose if I wanted to get philosophical about this it would be possible...<br />
Getting cancer acted as a sort of indicator of mortality and set an updated rhythm for my life. It hurried up the pace of things in it's own way. I now have scheduled checkups in regular intervals, much like a beat, it can tell me to hurry up or slow down depending on what happens, and it is sort of always beeping in my head any time I look at my hand or feel something odd there. Yes, cancer and this metronome thing do go hand in hand, pun intended (although seriously, I don't need any more hand cancer).<br />
<br />
The scar is looking really good and depending on how light hits it and how I'm holding it, you might not even see it. The only thing that is curious to me at the moment is when and whether the surgical clips are going to make their exit. There are 5 in there still and I wonder if they're contributing to the pains that occasionally present themselves. We'll see what happens but for now I'm just rubbing in some SPF15 moisturizer to both protect the scarred skin and perhaps grease up these clip's exit. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZS3AQVYnFw7XQaAgjnt6PY5a1XEVX9Pq7SJ0okJrtRU4HTRW_4ctBy5BF9wjJX_gV9fQh0LT_6fbf_p-rCcwelVWjI64JSWxW2yjIgXxmg3dTXS5B6v6VFnF0VOSA-_rlxkJ2HDtwkQ/s1600/5clipsinmyhand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZS3AQVYnFw7XQaAgjnt6PY5a1XEVX9Pq7SJ0okJrtRU4HTRW_4ctBy5BF9wjJX_gV9fQh0LT_6fbf_p-rCcwelVWjI64JSWxW2yjIgXxmg3dTXS5B6v6VFnF0VOSA-_rlxkJ2HDtwkQ/s400/5clipsinmyhand.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-75945685090507821922011-05-10T14:33:00.000-05:002011-05-10T14:33:22.661-05:00Operative Report<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRP4ApGMWrEVswULqU2z463NeOoD66OQnhAogBG0M4_ND7gPW-qIAlJoPWafzaAI5-kMtOtZZnS_rXsi0ztgs240U2GHIUaMG2yagCO5HgZRBmfZl1UQdAXo6u8i8FFeuGxX-ofnU_Kw/s1600/20110424-122255-DSC_0434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRP4ApGMWrEVswULqU2z463NeOoD66OQnhAogBG0M4_ND7gPW-qIAlJoPWafzaAI5-kMtOtZZnS_rXsi0ztgs240U2GHIUaMG2yagCO5HgZRBmfZl1UQdAXo6u8i8FFeuGxX-ofnU_Kw/s640/20110424-122255-DSC_0434.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>This is definitely coming a bit late in the game but I just found and read my operative report. Basically it is what it sounds like. It describes the patient, the reason for the operation, how they did the surgery, and what the results of it were. I have Roger to thank (yet again) for letting me know about that reports probable existence and I just found and read it. It's pretty cool to get the details of my procedure, even though my understanding of the terminology is not quite there. It really does get quite dense, and I'm not implying stupidity. Here's an excerpt...<br />
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<i><span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents">Dissection now revealed the remaining attachments between the volar plate, the deep intervolar plate, the transverse metacarpal ligament and perosseous bands of the palmar fascia and proximal portion of the flexor tendon sheath. These attachments were then divided sharply and the amputated specimen was removed.</span></i><br />
<br />
<span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents">Ok, maybe it's just the terminology that make's it fly a little over my head but still, wow. </span><br />
<span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents"><br />
</span><br />
<span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents">Anyhow, among other things it did list the before and after diagnosis officially as "</span><span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents"><i>UNCLASSIFIED MESENCHYMAL NEOPLASM, FAVOR LOW GRADE SARCOMA</i>", they also showed that I had minimal blood loss and no complications. Yay! </span><br />
<span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents"><br />
</span><br />
<span id="ctl00_pageBody_lblContents">Interestingly enough, my receding hairline somehow got a mention in another report but otherwise they seem happy that I'm an alert and apparently healthy adult male. My wife is pretty happy about that too. :)<br />
</span>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-86784584089317873572011-04-27T12:42:00.000-05:002011-04-27T12:42:28.942-05:00Back in the Saddle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElfNVm43ZrFVHlWUO95D1VaNojZBOU3zlTsqbEwRkJ5CEHC-tPZehMAVK71Qtt2AO3bK7-p2aV0W0O5c6FGZ5zJjkjCknNh5g-Wpu8j0yjBm1TsgwL9Ud7kDRXOCHeTw2UkkZPik7t9Y/s1600/20110425-152756-DSC_0080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElfNVm43ZrFVHlWUO95D1VaNojZBOU3zlTsqbEwRkJ5CEHC-tPZehMAVK71Qtt2AO3bK7-p2aV0W0O5c6FGZ5zJjkjCknNh5g-Wpu8j0yjBm1TsgwL9Ud7kDRXOCHeTw2UkkZPik7t9Y/s400/20110425-152756-DSC_0080.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Progress!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVKXF1J0ckaxTp95DAKDM2zZCNp2htpuffRq6eaMF9dpn1dhf1OX-w-vbEegHfcbItzuxBtEivbNw7BoJQP-ZTNpHSITFfJeY1ryrs8fj8LFuC6c7jtKSiEuxakxt6FSMzcOEt-YtdME/s1600/20110425-153439-DSC_0085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVKXF1J0ckaxTp95DAKDM2zZCNp2htpuffRq6eaMF9dpn1dhf1OX-w-vbEegHfcbItzuxBtEivbNw7BoJQP-ZTNpHSITFfJeY1ryrs8fj8LFuC6c7jtKSiEuxakxt6FSMzcOEt-YtdME/s400/20110425-153439-DSC_0085.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you're riding a bike using no hands, missing a finger doesn't matter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The newest conquest in the world of amputation recovery is actually riding a mountain bike on an actual mountain bike trail! Sure I'd jumped on a bike or two within the past couple months but it was only for little test rides and only on pavement. This of course excludes the incident that occurred after I'd changed the inner tubes on Brea's bike, forgot to re-engage the brakes, took it for a quick sprint down my street, realized I couldn't brake, and then wove back and forth up hill and on some grass to slow down and stop. We're excluding that. No, this time my neighbor, friend, and biking enthusiast Joe let me join him and some other friends at a trail I'd never been to before. After realizing after the fact that my tires needed inflation and my chain desperately needed some lube and stretching, the bike was set, but was I?<br />
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Heading out on the trail one sensation struck me as odd. While navigating down a rocky portion on a slight curve, the bike was needing to be controlled pretty heavily to stay on course. As my grip tightened, one of the rubber nubs dug into the bundle of nerve terminations where my finger used to be, causing a rush of feeling that conjured the muscle memory of my finger for few moments. It just felt like the finger was there and tingling in a strong, but not painful way. That may have also primed me for another realization. Apparently I used to use the middle finger to rest on the brake lever in terrain like that so that I'd be able to maintain maximum grip on the handlebars while still having a method to ease on the brake as needed. In order to achieve that now, I'm relying more on just my little and ring finger with the pointer reaching for the stopping device. When your bike is wanting to jerk around, grabbing the brakes accidentally (and full force) has a high likelihood of flipping you over the handlebars, and you are relying on some digits not used to the responsibility, it can make a fellow nervous. Thankfully, no actual disaster occurred and those obstacles were navigated without incident.<br />
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It was about a 5 mile course and that was about all my legs could handle at the pace I was attempting. Even though I'd been able to swim a bit, my cardio wasn't quite there and probably more importantly, my legs had been on vacation from that sort of activity for too long. That said, it was a great start!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0LmbRy30DuVzz_chM0GLcD7eBfZ4gsGPkCXpnt8_iiIqAuKDZkSrwqA8low-inUMuTGtR3zwN51g8RkQRZoyQh9tcVnwbjS-deKcx-6z6JJsgXxVOFBDKgsG1dqOSvOGgeWZmt_1vhw/s1600/20110425-150327-DSC_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0LmbRy30DuVzz_chM0GLcD7eBfZ4gsGPkCXpnt8_iiIqAuKDZkSrwqA8low-inUMuTGtR3zwN51g8RkQRZoyQh9tcVnwbjS-deKcx-6z6JJsgXxVOFBDKgsG1dqOSvOGgeWZmt_1vhw/s400/20110425-150327-DSC_0033.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That ride led to discussion of other opportunities and Joe mentioned a place just north of our neighborhood that we could actually just ride to. I checked it out and headed out there Monday and was very pleasantly surprised. It wasn't anywhere near as technical as trails we have been used to but it is a good place to just ride and it's close which is a huge plus. Since it was a scouting ride, I had my camera and took a few pictures along the way. I think I found a few places that will be great for portraits when the opportunity presents itself. <br />
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So I am back in the saddle, however unfit, and ready to ride! It had been too long...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVQJHnfUUp74ItiEt5LY6Pz00fqeyqXhMBoFf9Qpzwjm45gi649KuuIjNzxZSwToywWnijzU02uUmgR8aU1Zw2eNtvr1ZgirnXtmnEhOfg0Tzv7toAHusnFX13EjbESZmXCGDexXcNAs/s1600/20110425-151725-DSC_0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVQJHnfUUp74ItiEt5LY6Pz00fqeyqXhMBoFf9Qpzwjm45gi649KuuIjNzxZSwToywWnijzU02uUmgR8aU1Zw2eNtvr1ZgirnXtmnEhOfg0Tzv7toAHusnFX13EjbESZmXCGDexXcNAs/s400/20110425-151725-DSC_0063.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-72554836432162539412011-04-18T17:33:00.000-05:002011-04-18T17:33:07.333-05:00Cancer free for another 3 months!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhu80axHLASq4_3adF1f9jO43WD8toG40pfLieENoGiHrQaxXbE0nqhwsAa6De6KqmcsGk_5isaxkO-gDsBZRjtTpruQPnV5-XBKKxMInLpUx9Ag7ANTG6236x5DCAX6WNo-xcNte77k0/s1600/20110320-015829-DSC_0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhu80axHLASq4_3adF1f9jO43WD8toG40pfLieENoGiHrQaxXbE0nqhwsAa6De6KqmcsGk_5isaxkO-gDsBZRjtTpruQPnV5-XBKKxMInLpUx9Ag7ANTG6236x5DCAX6WNo-xcNte77k0/s400/20110320-015829-DSC_0020.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>Hey all! So far it seems like the treatment of removing the finger entirely did the trick! The most recent battery of tests came back clear so needless to say, that's good news! My problem of saying things that should go without saying, however, continues. I suppose you can't win 'em all.<br />
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Anyhow, things are going well with the recuperation. Strength is still returning to the hand and it's not quite as much a struggle to hold things like drum sticks tightly and securely. I have, in returning to and diving more deeply into normal activities, had a bevy of new phantom sensations that make life interesting from time to time. The odd sensation of heat, itching, and sometimes some minor pain have made debuts to a lukewarm reception, much like 65% of movie releases these days. My personal favorite was the burning sensation that came up while holding a hot plate with a potholder. My hand was totally protected but somehow the phantom finger got the idea it may have been burned while gripping the plate. Go figure. I always did have a pretty good imagination though.<br />
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I got to speak to a guy who'd had his lower arm amputated after a car accident and he mentioned the phantom sensations don't really go away in his experience of 10-15 years. It's funny the new connections you can make just by missing a visible body part. In any case, it was good to talk to someone who was also pressing on despite that nasty little setback.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_qPZrEbU3PrtTM5850Fr5RswyZx_S1hS6qvzKv32Lj7yGNNzaMeOnOzib-XYpwafxxkcsGb_U1GKGNDXz9PViZM2sR_5M65E4bJTYIHnwaZ_FnlBCvDU3t7vBzGEfMsdNRrzuBJyWys/s1600/210058_10150222683756807_665606806_8595131_5017232_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_qPZrEbU3PrtTM5850Fr5RswyZx_S1hS6qvzKv32Lj7yGNNzaMeOnOzib-XYpwafxxkcsGb_U1GKGNDXz9PViZM2sR_5M65E4bJTYIHnwaZ_FnlBCvDU3t7vBzGEfMsdNRrzuBJyWys/s320/210058_10150222683756807_665606806_8595131_5017232_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>This blog was started to help chronicle my experience with having cancer but the cancer seems to be gone and I'm quite grateful for that. Now I'm finding myself on the sidelines as friends like my neighbor Roger battle it. He recently had his recurrent brain tumor removed and is doing remarkably well, now just trying to re-train his brain to get his foot moving again. We got to go to a Round Rock Express baseball game just a couple weeks after his surgery which was great fun if not slightly dangerous as we were sitting in foul ball range. No need to knock that noggin' any more.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID7ItsUMyLe-3iTZ1owk37LktaJNdLXssTcn-PHgE25jl2uKSm4B4LYkg8J2aTldZGb2uMQ1BcyNKG5_V15ivHRCd1yd0NDhSECXpC-kQ6KrYCV8lvhUZmgPl2556SpL_8l8M2SyDXrU/s1600/20110410-144018-DSC_0833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID7ItsUMyLe-3iTZ1owk37LktaJNdLXssTcn-PHgE25jl2uKSm4B4LYkg8J2aTldZGb2uMQ1BcyNKG5_V15ivHRCd1yd0NDhSECXpC-kQ6KrYCV8lvhUZmgPl2556SpL_8l8M2SyDXrU/s400/20110410-144018-DSC_0833.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>One other thing that happened recently (that is cancer related) is that I got to photograph an event for a young girl who's battling an aggressive brain cancer. I was invited by a friend who is with Young Professionals for the Cure who organized the whole thing. What was the event? A food fight. Yep, a food fight, and it was rockin'! You can check out her story and more at her website at http://www.madeleinesgift.org/<br />
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My coverage of the event can be found <a href="http://oneseventwo.zenfolio.com/p549312694">here</a>.<br />
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So yeah, good times in the midst of some crazy stuff! It's great that people are fighting, supporting, and having fun in the midst of the trial that is cancer. I will say that in these listed experiences the positive has come out of groups & individuals that are focused on things beyond this life. Hope is something that you can't buy and thankfully it's been generously gifted to a lot of us.Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-4303321932774596652011-03-15T14:03:00.000-05:002011-03-15T14:03:11.908-05:00My two cents<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ6SWbh1ov8eNtieeSM8me1Zc8pktHzZKKHR7gqQrKIR06vtssM6ANA2kVkNn5x_omHdunqvbbp-KoRVGrVb3YHKc6eDJDH6rgG3DMU37S1euGNOkSowDkSPwCRQ-RCn1ngoG_my87Dso/s1600/20110315-125819-DSC_1531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ6SWbh1ov8eNtieeSM8me1Zc8pktHzZKKHR7gqQrKIR06vtssM6ANA2kVkNn5x_omHdunqvbbp-KoRVGrVb3YHKc6eDJDH6rgG3DMU37S1euGNOkSowDkSPwCRQ-RCn1ngoG_my87Dso/s400/20110315-125819-DSC_1531.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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My two cents are on the ground at McDonalds; the one at Austin's infamous "Y."<br />
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Why?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9j3evecKXltrlXEvOrREZ-tDUx0-4foWly_-vp7yOgpHDj3krRndDQp4hs8-BAAqUm9pamXVQSv90ipXB4UBINak8rzA684JnE6IDMgQlALe93JDfjKuaArLwVE7zDCynLoPORurYsZM/s1600/20110315-124517-DSC_1493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9j3evecKXltrlXEvOrREZ-tDUx0-4foWly_-vp7yOgpHDj3krRndDQp4hs8-BAAqUm9pamXVQSv90ipXB4UBINak8rzA684JnE6IDMgQlALe93JDfjKuaArLwVE7zDCynLoPORurYsZM/s400/20110315-124517-DSC_1493.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>Because there's a gap in between my fingers on my left hand that just doesn't close tightly. While this is the first actual incident of this sort, it was anticipated. It will probably happen again too. It's the sort of thing that just does and unless I move back to a country where the driver is on the right side of the car, my left hand will, more often than not, be what is reaching out of the car at drive-through windows for change, ketchup, sugar, etc. Coins are sure to be falling for years to come, I just hope it doesn't exceed two cents an occurrence.<br />
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Those two cents are still lying on the ground at that drive through as far as I know. I used to collect pennies because they were usually what a kid could find on the ground and unclaimed. Now they apparently cost more to make than they're actually worth as currency. Don't get any ideas about selling the monies for material, I'm pretty sure that's still a federal offense...<br />
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That reminds me of an article I read recently about how it would save the US government tons of money to switch to dollar coins entirely, but that's something that would better be discussed on my other blog, <a href="http://172nro.blogspot.com/">News/Reviews/Opinion</a>.Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-11021962584538021242011-03-02T00:34:00.000-06:002011-03-02T00:48:27.273-06:00Swim Swam SwumInteresting factoid, for those who are curious, one can swim straight with two disproportionately sized hands. I'm not sure about the physics of the matter, perhaps I was able to auto-correct like an airplane down one engine, but I was able to swim freestyle yesterday afternoon and even stay in my half of the lane. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgpmWbDBfOjpSZBvrzL3I8_PDEequowOqWIzLwu5yNXv4tEw1HXt_E1VYMgw8nGcjLi9RJ-unFdzNl6u4dEKoznhUtfu2BBCRd-O-htfJj83vQ6sbZuNS5mECvd71ywaFZA9Wm59vKeY/s1600/20110211-20110211-143235-DSC_0091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgpmWbDBfOjpSZBvrzL3I8_PDEequowOqWIzLwu5yNXv4tEw1HXt_E1VYMgw8nGcjLi9RJ-unFdzNl6u4dEKoznhUtfu2BBCRd-O-htfJj83vQ6sbZuNS5mECvd71ywaFZA9Wm59vKeY/s400/20110211-20110211-143235-DSC_0091.jpg" width="400" /></a>Yesterday marked the first major attempt at proper normal exercise since the whirlwind of the surgery and recovery. Sure I'd been able to play the drum kit and hand percussion, help move and carry things, and hike in to a campsite with loads of firewood and equipment, but nothing like trying to swim straight laps. It's a good thing to be sure since I was feeling pretty out of shape by my standards. It doesn't help to be out of sync with normal athletic activities and turn 30 all in the same period. But this is promising, I was actually concerned about my ability to swim and it now appears my primary hindrance is stamina and cardiovascular conditioning as opposed to the more tempting scapegoat of a missing finger. Darn.<br />
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The phantom lives on by the way. I even tried to work it into a campfire ghost story but it was not a well thought out story and some of the younger audience weren't following at all. Really it's probably for the best. The actual phantom activity is mainly presenting in tingles and mental lockups whereby I momentarily feel like the other fingers can't move because the missing one is stuck. It is still quickly resolved with a thought but I'm going to need to make sure it doesn't slip out of control. There is also still sensitivity in the area the nerves were severed. Distributed force in the palm isn't a problem but if I clap incorrectly and hit that spot it can become quickly sore or at least undesirable. I think I need to keep up with some of the stretching exercises I'd been given in OT too, there is a little tightness in the hand.<br />
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Much of the recent discomfort seems attributable to all the activities and strains the new version of this left hand is experiencing for the first time. Hopefully they're growing pains and it's muscle and tendon growing and healing further. Good times.Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-83458812750103427352011-02-12T22:35:00.000-06:002011-02-12T22:35:02.819-06:00DischargedWell that was fun... <br />
Thursday turned out to be my last day of occupational therapy. Macy said I was looking great and set me loose to continue the recovery without her professional services. I suppose it was time.<br />
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It's been fun getting challenged in that environment so I'll actually miss it but it does take a chunk of time and money to go, even with insurance. Instead, it's time to further explore my new normal on my own. Speaking of that... This Sunday, which is fast approaching, will see another first in this post amputation world. I get to play hand percussion on a cajon (wooden box with a snare inside that you sit on and play). Practice went well and it feels pretty good although I have some soreness in that left wrist at the moment. That could be due to any number of things but I suppose slamming it repeatedly onto a wooden box would be a smart first suspect. As with many musical instruments though, you have to develop or re-develop callouses or tolerance. It is very fun to play... :)Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-83400322267246690462011-01-30T20:40:00.000-06:002011-01-30T20:40:52.409-06:00Finally, something I can't do. It's about time.Well it's been weeks since I posted because life has been getting back to normal and I suppose that is a good thing. I've been drumming, been painting, been photographing... Shoot, I've even been washing dishes and doing laundry again. I was getting tired of having to take Axe (body spray) baths to keep my clothes from making it seem like I was also not showering. Yes, that was a joke... :)<br />
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Amidst the healing and rehabilitation, which I'll get back to in just a minute, I've been able to explore more thoroughly this new reality I'm living. In that process some things have presented themselves as goals to strive towards, like building grip strength, and other things that might be the first real disability I've been able to identify.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtKwuiI5phfYD7XL3g5TvYai2xziGWCJqQOF6eG2Ln6una3tYeoN_VXEY0cdR973zwMzVOEK_mI-t-sZQykOvnWShvYcWsaUSb-pGLoKlCZlYCtNsjYqLRfTGll71GqDSHkcGMH90a9E/s1600/110130-203329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtKwuiI5phfYD7XL3g5TvYai2xziGWCJqQOF6eG2Ln6una3tYeoN_VXEY0cdR973zwMzVOEK_mI-t-sZQykOvnWShvYcWsaUSb-pGLoKlCZlYCtNsjYqLRfTGll71GqDSHkcGMH90a9E/s320/110130-203329.jpg" width="320" /></a>It was probably first a blip on the radar while in the shower getting ready to shampoo my ever-more-sparsely-populated hair. It really became noticeable when brushing my teeth. It relates to a question you may remember I'd asked some time back before the surgery about the effect on surface area the finger removal would have. I'd been concerned that it would detrimentally affect my ability to swim in a straight line. The answer was that aside from the finger itself, the palm surface area should only shrink about a centimeter which turned out to be correct. The caveat to that is in the spacing of fingers, in part due to the lack of change in width of my palm. While my pinkie and ring/new-middle finger come together about as well as they ever have (as far as I can remember), my index and new-middle don't and that creates a bit of a gap to allow things to fall through. I felt shampoo slipping through my fingers in the shower and while attempting to cup water to rinse after brushing, I found it an exercise in futility when using only my left hand. To a lesser extent, taking change from drive-through windows also left me less than confident in being able to ensure I don't drop any coins. And there you have it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSRLj1HV4U_kmQhukyo8feWAu0udWtsOIXtlLB3Fn1Gj3o7-iQiF-Hoad8_W63KDKFSM3YWJXWjk5uXAJ0W1hFQ55uhL_7N6K_dsTfVp8Qm6geB5FO8iWgby7I-kvWj_d5bjo4chgI9c/s1600/110130-203434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSRLj1HV4U_kmQhukyo8feWAu0udWtsOIXtlLB3Fn1Gj3o7-iQiF-Hoad8_W63KDKFSM3YWJXWjk5uXAJ0W1hFQ55uhL_7N6K_dsTfVp8Qm6geB5FO8iWgby7I-kvWj_d5bjo4chgI9c/s320/110130-203434.jpg" width="320" /></a>All told, not a huge deal at all but it is what it is. Truth be told, after staring at my hands for what amounts to hours on end (collectively), the five fingered hand looks overpopulated and abnormal. Crazy I know but it may also have to do with the excessive amount of animated entertainment I've watched. It has been noted by a few friends that Simpsons, characters, among others typically have 4 fingers and as such I'm arguably in good company, or just company at the least. :D<br />
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The issue with gloves has been much of a non-issue for the most part so far. The solution has either been to simply load the sleeves with the appropriate fingers and leave the middle un-inhabited or to tuck it into the glove. Both options are largely acceptable for all purposes so far.<br />
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With regards to occupational therapy, I've been going for a while now and am actually probably nearing the end of my sessions. I'd been going twice a week and a couple weeks ago that was cut to once a week. On a visit this last Thursday that got cut to every two weeks. All areas of the incision are fully closed and the scar is smoothed out pretty nicely. While typing this up I'm yet to take updated shots of this hand showing the significant progress that has been made but I'll get that fixed up before posting. <br />
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The next round of routine tests to make sure the cancer is gone have already been scheduled and it looks like they have me on a rotation of the most expensive and intrusive tests. I'd had an MRI right before surgery, the first post-op appointments had a CT scan, and this next appointment I'll be getting an ultrasound in addition to the routine bloodwork and x-rays. My health insurance is grateful they're not doing MRI, CT, and ultrasound every time I'm sure. Heck, I'm glad.<br />
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The phantom finger has become a largely controllable phenomenon for me which makes me a blessed guy judging from some of the horror stories I've heard about phantom pains of others. The recent cold weather seemed to cause it to flair up a bit more but each time I feel it coming on, concentrating on the present fingers and moving them seems to dissipate that feeling quite quickly. It's somewhat fun to be able to turn it on and feel that sensation of pressure and tingles when I try to engage the missing digit although it seems somewhat risky to entertain it too much. Might the sensation stick and I lose the ability to turn it off? Will I lose that sensation altogether in time? It's hard to tell what would be the desirable outcome. Holding on to something that is gone has such a bittersweet and at times vastly deep impact on a person's psyche. That seems to be true of my finger but also, according to my observation, in death, lost opportunities, and even just not seeing friends for long periods of time.<br />
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The more I've thought about this experience, the more it seems I've been prepared for it. The observations mentioned above have come from personal and second-hand experiences. Moving around and not seeing close friends for long periods of time emulates death to a degree, having some opportunities come and go, some in very distressing fashion also emulate the same emotions and similar repercussions. Having faced a number of these types of situations, a degree of numbness that formed due to the previous experiences helped buffer the blow of what could have been something that would have stung sharply. It's good to know that in the middle of the hurricane of seemingly nonsensical pain and change that God has ways to weave a silver lining that actually overcomes the cloud itself. It seems like that's always the plan.<br />
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There is a sweetness to suffering, not that I know it all that well. The stuff I have gone through provided enough of a glimpse that I think I've got a decent idea of it though. There are great times and there are tough times, there's room for it all.<br />
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All that about troubles and ups and downs reminds me of something...<br />
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In a recent conversation the concept of karma came up from an individual who was expressing his diminishing belief in it. The whole concept of things coming back to reward or condemn deeds is attractive because of it's proximity to the truth. However, at the same time, its distance is noticeable and reveals itself in time through experience. My personal belief as a subscriber to biblical doctrine leads me to belief in reciprocation of deeds to an extent but via the hands of God and not necessarily in my lifetime. While good or bad deeds may or may not be judged and acted on within the course of any affected party's lifetime, the consequences of actions are always dealt with. The difference between what I believe and karma is that it doesn't matter whether I experience the effects of it. I simply trust God will judge and enact justice and mercy as He sees fit. Given that He's far more capable of handling things than I, it's a good and comforting thing to be able to rely on that and just work on our relationship. Of course this is a tough thing to get into with someone who doesn't share the same beliefs but it rings true to me. <br />
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I don't know why that came up but it did. Oh, lookie there, it's 2am... that explains it.<br />
Not to negate those preceding thoughts but I think late night blogging is similar to dreaming which is often acts like one of those warehouses that wreckage is dumped in to be sifted, sorted, and re-assembled to make sense of it all. Blogging tends to be more coherent as it is done with all cognitive functions while dreaming trends to the more bizarre. Nonetheless, with both you wind up with piles of thought that are sometimes related and sometimes not all in the same arena. So there you have it, goodnight. :DErichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-85389852605264529112011-01-05T13:18:00.000-06:002011-01-05T15:16:35.913-06:0051 Days of progressTwo things happened this morning, the 51st day since the surgery: #1 was that I set up my drum kit and played it for the first 9-fingered time. #2 was I was able to clip my fingernails normally without having to resort to wedging the clippers between my knee and left wrist to get the needed torque. So yeah, it's been a pretty good day. It really is the little things...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQES3M5oULn9zBjm0GHpsfIuHMW6mXLM5TEZXYcCEER1eaKSzI5r48BORxOk8EjMMmntSvpIpVA6jH3_QU0M-p04bTA40oWqXmcqjJ9_fEQfCkb_Z3zaN0R4RsEDE_NS91eKv_Ym7zfac/s400/Snapshot+1+%25281-5-2011+1-23+PM%2529.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYFH8HmsLsM">YouTube video of this session.</a></td></tr>
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My ring finger is still the one that needs the most work to recover it's mobility and really it might very well need to exceed it's former benchmarks given it's former neighbor finger is no longer with us. the surface is healing up nicely but the internals are still probably about three-fifths healed. Gripping the drum stick with that hand, while possible, didn't feel completely natural although I can hardly complain. It was the 1st time to try playing and the 2nd time I tried holding drumsticks post-op. It is a start and that's what I was shooting for.<br />
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Macy, my occupational therapist, actually did assign me that project (drumming, or trying to at least) as part of my therapy as we try and figure out what I am having trouble doing that I'd normally but up to. That will give us things to focus on and work towards. At the moment I'm working on scar-management and range of motion through everything from massage to squeezing and working thera-putty. Good times.<br />
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I'm trying to get back to normal except that normal isn't normal. At the beginning of all this I was just setting out as a self-employed artist/photographer and a lot was still needing to be learned and set up. I'm still trying to get my financial records in order and still trying to figure out my primary concentration. Business has been steadier than it's ever been though it will constantly need to being growing to actually make it to a point where I have a proper salary. But that has nothing to do with cancer and little to do with the recovery process so I'm shutting up about that now. :D<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalv-mjy-ksKdoLaDtsS7ZA1n6qO5LILkGs-zs3s0UkuKluiXB1ZjOlDugI4qL2OHBxt5tGUWO4QkL0zZbgAKkA830zVWw7T3mYnWfKeiHvtKsjxZ8sBjhaf8BKmLKLoJjlZxzUopFN8g/s1600/Post-op-xray-2appt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalv-mjy-ksKdoLaDtsS7ZA1n6qO5LILkGs-zs3s0UkuKluiXB1ZjOlDugI4qL2OHBxt5tGUWO4QkL0zZbgAKkA830zVWw7T3mYnWfKeiHvtKsjxZ8sBjhaf8BKmLKLoJjlZxzUopFN8g/s640/Post-op-xray-2appt.jpg" width="485" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">X-ray of the hand from an angle. The little lines are surgical clips that hold tissue together.</td></tr>
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The next period of "Eric with a C" is going to be monitoring to hopefully confirm that the surgery was successful in cutting off the cancer before it got anywhere else. Aside from the quarterly checkups I'll need to go in for, we're also taking advantage of the MDA resource to get checked for any skin cancer since it's just smart to do so. There's no reason to think I have it but whenever you get one type, it just seems like it would make sense to make sure there's not some other lurking around the corner. If there was hopefully this would help nip it in the bud.<br />
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So there you have it, that's what's going on. It's a brand new year, the year of the 9 for me, it's kind of like a new type of birthday without all the cake and presents. Here's to new challenges and new opportunities to keep us busy and out of trouble!Erichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703145534708731767.post-86285585726690500892010-12-22T07:43:00.000-06:002010-12-22T11:48:20.630-06:00Long time no see!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_p0FQnEY3QakR7mvwzY1tusd1F3_78hjWW3hyphenhyphen8vd8nqsFibAcWaxoTFdoAfvVn1blqYl8vEUlIiHqi2Uv9u0L5ECNx-Ye1ZcKI-pltyow0rFhuRy9yE1YHrv7DMz6iMdpOcMiz9IgcjU/s1600/101222-080532.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_p0FQnEY3QakR7mvwzY1tusd1F3_78hjWW3hyphenhyphen8vd8nqsFibAcWaxoTFdoAfvVn1blqYl8vEUlIiHqi2Uv9u0L5ECNx-Ye1ZcKI-pltyow0rFhuRy9yE1YHrv7DMz6iMdpOcMiz9IgcjU/s400/101222-080532.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553510519091844818" border="0" /></a>It<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuok4cagtef1VOC_TCplagewJqiwwdq683MqaSXV4qCLugMkL-yB5coK6CF1fS4j4tvCoAGIpAq6cKYJB3PUDOeYZzdKdkKRhkmtOuyPHwmY1fZ_9CHVSkXFJLD_Y814gfgaN_WBMr6So/s1600/101222-080557.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuok4cagtef1VOC_TCplagewJqiwwdq683MqaSXV4qCLugMkL-yB5coK6CF1fS4j4tvCoAGIpAq6cKYJB3PUDOeYZzdKdkKRhkmtOuyPHwmY1fZ_9CHVSkXFJLD_Y814gfgaN_WBMr6So/s400/101222-080557.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553510643977042098" border="0" /></a> has definitely been a while since I've had the time to sit down and write about what's been going on which is a pretty good indication of how things have been going.<br /><br />December has seen an art show, an assignment shoot, a portrait, a wedding, a bunch of church events and friend get-togethers and frankly, the hand hasn't been much of a hindrance which is fantastic! The phantom feelings have subsided as a pervasive experience and now are more of an occurrence when I try to make a fist or am doing something that normally would include that finger. Just the other day I was holding my phone to my ear with the left hand and it seemed like the missing finger was holding it at the top to stabilize. Madness.<br /><br />Occupational therapy has started and is going well. Macy, the therapist , is a fun torture artist that's been taking care of my gimpy finger and hand and that deserves further explanation.<br />It all started out with a look-over of the situation. My hand was pretty stiff, the pulled-together skin where the stitches were was scabby in some places and soft others, and my upper palm was crazy sensitive. There were tests on current flexibility forwards and backwards and all that, but it turns out OT also involves scar management. Apparently that involves digging out scabs so tissue can grow together deeper and move up to the surface. Given my hand was essentially split open, it goes pretty deep. Of course they stitched it together inside as well but the surface scabs apparently went down a few millimeters as well in some places. That had to get dug out if it could. That was not fun.<br />For added emphasis, that was not fun.<br />But Macy digs it. Pun intended. Now she may "like" it in the sense that she has to do it and therefore is using the power of positive thinking in the same way that I using laughing while having tweezers poke and pull at super-sensitive areas. In any case, in one of the first couple sessions she got to cleaning up the incision areas and it was far from pleasant. Oh the company was fine, and afterward it was fine, but... well I've already made my point.<br /><br />The cool thing is that it works.<br /><br />The hand is much more flexible, the incision is healing up really well, and the sensitivity has gone down drastically. I still get what feels like an electrical pulse up the phantom finger whenever I press into my upper palm around the cut line but that is entirely tolerable and either I'm just used to it now or it's not pain.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgp0Nj0Vu7rvt1VNrRatd__cNL_Tr_e506FaVWS_4baHINbJzOVkjz4U_oSmVWjjiiBbWYBG9vZ74VzjNmG25XOgRUyvZT5pus2AT2Mn71rjkV8ieW8r8ZNAqLIYp3bnyXK6HJnc8pSU/s1600/101222-081231.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgp0Nj0Vu7rvt1VNrRatd__cNL_Tr_e506FaVWS_4baHINbJzOVkjz4U_oSmVWjjiiBbWYBG9vZ74VzjNmG25XOgRUyvZT5pus2AT2Mn71rjkV8ieW8r8ZNAqLIYp3bnyXK6HJnc8pSU/s400/101222-081231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553510688987610722" border="0" /></a>So I'm wearing some tape and what looks like blue silly tack most of the time these days to massage the scar and keep it from bunching together which would look bad and limit movement. I'm also wearing a splint of sorts during the night to help bend back my fingers to improve flexibility there. Lots going on. (PS. Just noticed that spacer/massager smells <span style="font-weight: bold;">terrible</span> now that I've been wearing it for a few days. See image to right.)<br /><br />Today is the first battery of tests at MD Anderson since the surgery and so far I've already breezed through blood work and my hand and chest x-rays. Currently I'm awaiting the CT scan, and then... well then I can eat. I'm starvin' here. Pro: All tests and meeting with the doc on one day. Con: Had to be here at 7am. Ok, there's another pro... Chris & Courtney were awesome yet again and let us drive in last night and crash at their place which is a very doable 10 minutes from the center. In Houston traffic that's amazing. Shoot, in <span style="font-style: italic;">most </span>places that's amazing. :)<br /><br />So yes, I should be getting called in to get my IV started sometime soon-ish, then a little later I'll get called in to actually get scanned. Hopefully all this will reveal things are hunky-dory and we can go on our merry way. Could this be Eric with<span style="font-weight: bold;">out</span> a "c"? Could this blog title be erroneous? Am I now a liar? A seller of counterfeit wares? Hopefully... In this case anyways. :DErichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03546553969216566671noreply@blogger.com2