When Cancer Comes for Christmas (2021)

 

     In August of 2021, my wife Sue had set up an appointment with a new pulmonologist. I had been having some breathing problems since we had moved from Phoenix and were living at about 3000 feet higher altitude. The first meeting went well and a CT scan and some breathing tests were prescribed for the following week.

     The tests turned out as expected. I have what appears to be a touch of Emphysema and COPD. Neither is a new diagnosis. There was however a surprise on the CT scan that required a different doctor and a more in depth scan. An unusual lump on my left kidney.

    I'd never had any issue with my kidneys.  This was a new wrinkle. A battery of urology and blood tests, including MRI with contrast, were ordered by my new Urologist. By the time I got to Tucson to meet the Urologist it was already November.

Surgery.  Definitely surgery.  Everyone was 98% sure it was cancer. Good news? It was smaller than a golf ball and the surgery could be done laparoscopically, by a robot. Well a controlled robot. 

It's all the rage you know.

The only question is when.  Before or after the holidays.

My wife, Sue, and I agreed. "Get it out. Sooner the better," we said. 

The soonest available time was early December. 

The time comes and we drive back to Tucson and check in for surgery and what was expected to be one or two days, if all went well.

It did. Better than expected, so far as the cancer... there was none. Just a really ugly benign growth that fooled everybody. So could I go home now?

Nope. I fell into the clutches of the "Respiratory Guys", who didn't like the way I breath. Not long enough, not deep enough, not fast enough, not slow enough, "you're a big guy... you should be able to suck that ball to the top and hold it there for two days..." there were three of them and they traveled together, always together... "do you ever need oxygen at home or at work? "

"No... and I'm retired.  It says so on that paper you're holding."

"So you had a desk job," they asked.

"No... I was an electrical rigger at a live theatrical venue. I climb into special scaffolding, suspended steel pipes and girders or grids and install special lighting fixtures for theatrical productions and rock and roll shows."

Combined gasp! "And you don't carry oxygen? Do you have an aspirator?"

"Nope. Never needed one. Can I go home now?"

"Well, your oxygen level drops below 90% several times an hour and that has us concerned."

"Maybe I don't need that much all the time. I've been laying in this bed for five days. Is this somehow connected to the surgery?"

"Oh, no. But we may have just caught something."

"Look," I said, "I'm newly retired. I've been taking it easy for a while. I'll admit I'm a bit out of shape, but I just bought a small ranch and I'm sure once we get into the swing of working it, all this will even out."

Two days later I got them to agree that if I make an appointment for a follow-up, and get a Nebulizer machine for home treatments. (it's still in the box).

So I'm home. Four to five weeks of no lifting and I'm back to being busy. It was a scare, but I'm glad this year we were one short for Christmas. Best gift I've gotten in years.

     

    

Can you make a Thanksgiving at a restaurant?

It may be a silly thought. I’m sure that people do make a happy Thanksgiving at restaurants every year. And probably have for as long as there have been restaurants and Thanksgiving.

In my case, I have been luckier.  Ever since before I was born, my family has held Thanksgiving dinner at home.  For the past 59 years, at my mothers home. Sometimes it was just a few of us, other times there were tables set up all over the house. But it was always at my mother’s house.

And although this delighted me, it was not always a hit with my former wives.  But still it was tradition that reached back into my past much farther than they did. And I was inflexible.

Other holidays have fallen.  Mother’s day, Easter, and last year even Christmas, all home cooked meals that were outsourced, not to carry in, but to dine out. I didn’t complain.  I realized that if I was in my late 50’s that put my mother in her early 80’s.  Cleaning and cooking for holidays is hard work.  It doesn’t matter if it’s for five or thirty family and a dozen or so strays and their families that my mother would befriend and, for a day, make them feel as at home and as much a part of the family as I did. 

We all pitched in to help cook and prepare. But it just got to be too much. So one at a time the holidays fell.  But no matter what happened I still had Thanksgiving.

Until today.

Now I realize that thanksgiving is celebrated across the United States.  And everybody SAYS that it is a day to reflect on friends and family and the few or many gifts life had bestowed on you. People SAY that, but I felt it.  I didn’t realize just how much I felt it until my Mother told me about two weeks ago that she and my youngest brother were looking for a restaurant to make thanksgiving reservations.

I smiled.  I don’t know why I smiled. I certainly didn’t feel like smiling, I felt like running around the room like a spoiled three year old, smashing thing indiscriminately and screaming “No, no, no, no, no!!! “ 

But I smiled.  I offered other alternative and the discussion was long, but in the end fruitless.  Today my mother, my brothers, our sons, and even a new great grandson ate thanksgiving dinner… out.

It took me a while to wrap my head around it.  And I am not a good enough actor to hide my displeasure in the entire affair.  We had eaten many meals at this particular restaurant before and the food had always been good. 

Today I didn’t like a bite of it. However, I couldn’t tell you if it was any good.  I didn’t taste it. I did my best to make light of everything that I was hating, but I’m not sure I fooled anyone.  It wasn’t a tantrum, It wasn’t moping. My thanksgiving was broken and I was realizing that it wasn’t the food.

Since I was nine or so, my brothers and I had been living in a true matriarchy.  My mother was the head of the family.  You just didn’t say no, because you never wanted to disappoint her.  My middle brother traveled from across country to see her.  His eldest son and my eldest son brought their families from states away to see her too.  And my mother was now eighty-three. 

The three hundred pound gorilla sitting in my lap was not about loosing a home cooked meal.  It was about loosing my mother and perhaps my family. Would we still gather in years to come after my mother was gone. Or would we, like so many other families be relegated to seeing each other only during some five or ten year reunion. 

These are questions to which I have no answer. I cannot answer. It’s not just up to me.

So the next gathering is Christmas.  And we will be eating out.  But my attitude will be different. I won’t be secretly grousing about the food.  Because the food won’t matter.  The place will not matter.  Only holding my family close for as long as I can will matter.  And marking every moment we share together.

And that will matter most.

Be Well.

Today is the last day of my winter vacation.

I usually take one in the summer, around the fourth of July, and one in the winter around the Christmas holiday. It's a tradition that started when my boys were young and in school. It was done so that I could be home with them.

Sometimes we take trips, sometimes not. Sometimes I get a "Honey do list", most times not. As the boys were growing we have "fed the mouse" several times and been to almost every rollercoaster park in the states. (Cedar point in Sandusky Ohio is still the champ). This year was simpler.

Things throughout this vacation were quietly busy. My wife (scenic artist) was working two shows, my eldest son drove in from New Mexico for the holiday, and my youngest started a new job. We all gathered for the traditional dinner and exchange of gifts at my Mother's house, but for the most part stayed out of each others way.

For myself I dabbled with some new ideas, watched some animation tutorials, and got my holiday cartoon up just before Christmas. I also worked on a second cartoon that I’ve been at for nearly a month. It should be done soon.

And I spent way too much time getting to know Google Plus, and twitter.

I did manage to gain only six pounds this holiday, a sum that my old three speed Beach Cruiser and I will work off without much extra effort. My annual winter cold arrived late, just before new years. It would seem that no amount of prevention can do more than postpone its arrival.

Looking back, it was a nice vacation, filled with family and friends, occasional quiet times for me to clear my mind and do whatever I liked or nothing at all. It was just nice.

But for this year, today is the last day.

Be Well.