Friday, May 30, 2008

First few weeks of May 2008

Wednesday, May 7th,2008

I stopped by Dr. Isacoff’s office today, as I often do before plasmapheresis, just to check in on how my body is progressing. My labs from the end of the week before and the beginning of this week were looking pretty good. My platelets were up over 120K and actually approaching the normal range. Nobody wants to jinx it, but it looks like the HUS process may have subsided. There is still quite a bit of annihilated red cell remnants in my blood as my LDH was still very high (500-600, normal is under 200). It is hard to say, but the thinking is that there are residual clumps of platelets from when the HUS process was still active and that those clumps are probably still slicing up the red cells. Hopefully, my platelets increasing means that the clumping has stopped and over time the residual clumps should dissolve. Again, I do want to speak too soon, but the whole HUS ordeal was quite trying. My body has been dealing with it since February 14th and it took 2 6-day hospital stays, about 70 plasmapheresis sessions, and 32 dialysis sessions (which continue at three times a week). The medical costs charged for this little episode were over $150K (the contracted rate for the insurance was about half that and luckily my costs were just a very small fraction of that – Again, I cannot stress enough how important health insurance is. If you are young and think you are invincible, don’t be stupid, get insured!). I am sure no one will doubt me when I say that I do not want to go through all that again. Looking back, though, I generally felt ok most of the time. I have been very lucky to have only had a minimal amount of pain during this last episode and my whole journey, thus far. I also feel pretty lucky to have maintained a decent appetite. Not only is it good for me to keep my weight up, but it is also reassuring to Eva to see me pack away the calories.

Anyways, being that my labs were decent and I looked and felt ok, Dr. Isacoff decided that we would see how I would do without plasma. This was a very exciting development as I immediately realized how much more time I would have for myself. Now, I had grown very attached to the whole plasma team and would be sad to not see them every weekday, but like a lot of these healthcare situations, people are very understanding and generally encourage you to get healthy enough not to see them anymore. That Wednesday would be my last planned plasma exchange and then the plan was just to monitor my labs and see how my body could handle being off the plasma exchange.

Thursday May 8th, 2008

This was my first day with no medical obligations in a very long time (aside from the occasional Sunday). My dad had the day off and came up and we decided to go horseback riding. Now keep in mind that my whole body is still fairly weak as I have not gained back much of the muscle mass that I lost during my hospital stays but we figured that I could probably handle sitting on a horse. We were right, more or less. When you sign up for a ride, you get the option of going for the 1 hour ride or the 2 hour ride. I was a little hesitant about spending 2 hours on a horse as I remembered the pain from the last 2 hour ride, but how could I say no when I saw that excitement in my dad’s eyes? The 2 hour ride takes you from the stables on the Hollywood side, up into Griffith park and to the top of Mt. Hollywood and back. There were still a fair amount of wildflowers around which made the park really pretty. The ride was not much more than a walk on horseback but I still just love being on top of a horse. I just chuckle to myself when I am up there. The view from the top of Mt. Hollywood was ok though fairly hazy. We did have one moment of excitement when a couple runners came out from behind a bend and startled the horses. Both my father’s horse, and my horse jumped just a bit and then ran a few quick steps towards the other side of the trail. Somehow, my father and I managed to stay on the horses so we counted that as a victory for the day and then proceeded very cautiously down the hill. By the end of the ride my ass and my knees were in such excruciating pain. My butt is lacking the padding that it once had and my legs were just not used to being bent in that position for so long. During the last stretch I was wondering if I would have the physical strength to get myself off of the horse. In my head, I was trying to figure out alternative ways of getting me off of the horse without having to resort to a little crane picking me up by my britches. When we finally got back to the stables, I focused and gathered my strength and was able to get off of the horse under my own power. I was really glad I did not lose face in front of the cowboys. It felt really good to do something fun on my first day free from plasmapheresis – one little baby step towards normalcy.

Sunday May 11th,2008

On Mother’s Day, Eva and I cruised down to San Pedro in the afternoon for a little BBQ for my mom. It was really good to see the folks, even with all the time we are spending together these days. My dad outdid himself, as he often does and served up quite a meal. Eva is so wonderful and put together a few little gifts for my mom and I picked up a very decadent Belgian Brownie from a little bakery in Beverly Hills. My mother, in a testament to her spending her time how she likes to, started a little project for Eva creating a pattern of a dress from the actual garment. Eva really likes the dress and was hoping to recreate it with some new fabric. It was really touching to see my mother really enjoying the process and Eva was excited that the dress will see another incarnation.


The few weeks between then (5/11) and now (5/24)

Again, I do not have all that much free time but I have managed to get out and about a bit. I have been on a few bike rides recently and can actually keep up with Eva if she runs at a fairly slow pace. The day after Mother’s day, I took the cruiser out and went maybe three miles on fairly flat ground. That may not seem like much, but on the cruiser, the tiniest little incline requires an incredible amount of strength. I sort of felt like a weak little dork as I was struggling to pedal hard enough to get up this really small incline on the street below my parent’s house. Yeah, there was no chance of getting up my parent’s hill. I even had trouble pushing the bike up the hill. Luckily, my strong wife came to my rescue and pushed my bike up the hill – how embarrassing. Here I am taking a little break at the halfway point. I love to nap these days.



Eva and I have gotten out to Holmby a few times and played a bit of golf. Her game is really coming along and she is definitely ready to start hitting the regular par 3 courses and I even think she would do ok on the full length courses (though that maybe a little premature as the tee off on the first hole would basically be the first time she has swung a driver). At Holmby, she will very often get a handful of pars and one or two birdies are not all that uncommon. The last round we played, I still edged her by three strokes, but I fear that my time is coming. I just hope her victory dance is not too over the top.

On Saturday, the 17th of May, I convinced Eva to go to a track meet with me. The meet was the Adidas Track Classic at the Home Depot Center and had a decent field of professional athletes. It was really hot but just barely tolerable at the top of the bleachers where there was a slight breeze. Some of the highlights of the day were a number of “fastest in the world this year” times including the top four finishers in the women’s 3k, seeing Lagat run a 3:35 1500m, and seeing Jenn Stuczynski set an American record in the women’s pole vault. It will be interesting to see how many of the athletes that we saw compete, will make it to Bejing. In the middle of the meet, they had a kids 80m dash. That was pretty cute.

It had been a long time, but last Thursday, I actually got out on the water and did a bit of fishing with my dad. It was a little breezy and there was a decent swell so we opted to stay inside the harbor. We fall into the lazy fisherman category, so we really did not get onto the water until about 10:30am. I guess all the fish had already eaten by the time we got out there though we did manage to avoid getting skunked by bringing in one small Calico Bass. We let him go and a bit later decided we had had enough and went for lunch at the Chowder Barge. It was surprisingly empty when we got there though it was a little amusing to see one guy at the bar with a big pitcher in front of him, watching Jerry Springer. My dad and I joked that this may very well be this guy’s perfect afternoon. I am always impressed by people who figure out what they want and make it happen. Well done boat man. After lunch we cruised back to Cabrillo, pulled the boat, and once it was washed we found our spots on the couch and in my dad’s chair and crashed out. There is just something about the water that takes it out of you. All in all, it was a good day.


Otherwise, I have just been doing the dialysis thing and hanging out at the apartment. Eva and I watch a lot of movies. I get the impression that she thinks it is not all that productive, but I try to think of it as taking a survey course in film. At least that lets me sleep at night (and if I cannot sleep, I just go watch another movie). Dialysis is becoming like a little routine, and because I do not get benydrhl, I actually drive myself there and back occasionally. That gives me a little sense of independence, which is nice. My labs have been pretty decent, and as long as I take my phosphorus binders, my diet has returned to being fairly normal. I still have to limit my fluid intake but not quite as much as at the beginning. Eva has put the kibosh on a few foods that my system just really cannot handle – burritos, quesadillas, McDonalds, and anything really greasy. I guess it gets through my system, but the evening afterwards is not very pleasant for either of us. Oh-well.

-TN

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

5-09-2008 Recap of the last few months - Scroll Down

So I did a bit of a summary of the last few months and it ended up being a little lengthy. The post is beneath the Wildflower recap so just scroll down. Maybe get comfy first and I hope you enjoy. A bit of a warning, there are a few pictures of my perm-a-cath (don't worry, it is not a catheter that I pee through) so if that makes you squirm, just be ready. Otherwise, I hope everyone has been doing well and I hope to catch up with all of you very soon. I have sort-of been out of commission, but I think things are hopefully coming together again.
Take Care and Live Strong,
Tyler

Thursday, May 08, 2008

5-03-2008 Weekend of Wildflower

It has been a while since I have posted. Sorry about that. I have been and am still dealing with some new health obstacles. I will get into that later, but for now, I wanted to give a little summary of the weekend.

This last weekend was the Wildflower Triathlon. It is a little more than your run of the mill triathlon as it serves as the collegiate national championships, offers a half-iron man, a mountain bike sprint, and Olympic distance events, and draws over 7000 competitors. There was plenty for the 30,000 spectators too, as they had a festival with all sorts of vendors, food, and even a few bands. Just to give you an idea, here is a shot of the transition area. Don’t forget where you parked your bike.

About a month and a half ago, a couple buddies from college, John Burke and Tom Allen, had been talking a bit of trash, as they often do, and John mentioned that he was going to do the half-iron man at Wildflower. This sounded cool but was not all that surprising as John has done a few triathlons at that distance and is in pretty decent shape these days. He works out and takes good care of himself. Well, for some reason, Tom said something to the effect of, “Half-iron man…huhh… whatever. I could totally do that.”
John replied, “Well, lets see it big boy.”
“Well, allrighty then. Maybe I will.”
And from this little interaction, the idea of doing Wildflower was born. Immediately, the question of whether or not Tom could make it was raised. Now even though it is only half of a full ironman, it is no meager feat to complete one of these races. It consists of swimming 1.2 miles, riding the bike 56 miles, and then running a half-marathon (13.1 miles). The winners have been known to finish the long course in under four hours. Tom would say this is unfair, but I would consider Tom getting through the race without an ambulance a victory.
To add another aspect to the race, Tom and John decided to rally friends and family around the race and try to raise some money for PANCAN to help fight pancreatic cancer. I was really touched that they would do something like that for me and they were really successful. They managed to raise over $5,000 dollars in just a few weeks. I was amazed with how well they did considering I would occasionally have to wrestle the rent out of these guys when we used to live together (and trackhouse rent was not all that much money). The fundraising page is still up and if anyone else would like to contribute, just go to

http://www.firstgiving.com/teamtylern

Any support is greatly appreciated. I personally am in debt to all of the wonderful friends and family that have supported me over the last 22 months. Just know that each of your thoughts, prayers, and actions are truly appreciated and have been the high points of a very turbulent time in my life.
Now on to race day. It had been a while since Eva and I have gotten out of town so this was a pretty exciting little outing. We drove most of the way up on Friday night, crashed for about 6 hours in a Super 8, and then were on the road out to Lake San Antonio. We had heard that Wildflower was pretty big, but nothing compares to actually being there and seeing it first hand. We managed to make our way to the start and we actually ran into one of Tom’s buddies, Scott, and his girlfriend. Scott’s brother, Eric, was there as well and was also going to do the half-ironman. Amazingly, a bit later, we saw John and Tom in the holding area before the swim. They looked pretty ready to go though John said he had never seen Tom so nervous. Luckily Tom had a smile on his face and looked pretty fit and ready to go.


Now spectating at one of these events is pretty cool, but it is not exactly non-stop action. You cheer real hard as they start the swim, then you hang out for about a half hour, then you cheer as they get out of the water and a few minutes later when they go out on the bike, then you hang out for about four hours, and then you have to choose if you are going to cheer them coming in from the bike or going out on the run (because they go in one side of the transition area and come out the other, and they can probably get from one side to the other much faster than you), and then you wait another couple hours until they finish. It is very exciting for those moments when they are going by, but you have to know that you will have to amuse yourself in the interim times. Luckily, there was plenty to do though Eva and I really just enjoyed sitting on the grass and hanging out. For the run the guys wore the Team Tyler shirts from the October Cancer Challenge. That was really touching, I just hope that after wetting his shirt, John’s nipples did not take too much of a thrashing.

After nearly seven hours of racing, John and Tom made their way across the finish line. Eva and I were exhausted from just hanging around that long which gave us an even greater appreciation for what they had accomplished. After the race, Eva and I took a little dip in the lake and then a number of us went back up to their campsite and had some dinner together. Seeing the excitement on Tom’s mother face warmed my heart. You could tell how proud she was of her boy. Some props need to go out to John for being a good partner and biking and running with Tom as well as to Chris for riding with Tom as well. Looks like none of those penalties got posted. It’s not drafting if you don’t get caught. Also, props goes out all the people who made their way to remote Lake San Antonio just to cheer on a couple of crazy guys. All in all, it was a beautiful place, the whole event just had a nice vibe to it, it was great to see old friends, and awesome to see Tom and John finish so well. When someone asked Tom about next years race, he replied, “Never again.” We will give him some time and see what happens.

Here are just a few of the support crew, braving the sidelines.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

2-14-2008 through 5-09-2008 Recap of the last few months

Well, it feels like the last three months have just been a blur. I cannot believe that it is already May. It seems like just yesterday I was just plugging along, working a bit, making my way slowly back to a relatively normal lifestyle. We sort of had a little hiccup. Actually, we are still dealing with the effects and though things seem to be coming along pretty well, it was a big reminder of just how fragile my health is. The last few months have had some of the scariest moments of my journey thus far.
It all started back in February, the week of Valentine’s Day. Looking back, Eva and I had recognized that I had been having a bit of trouble breathing and that my energy was kind of down but it had happened so slowly that we really had not noticed. I had gone into the office that Wednesday and worked a full day as I had soccer that night. In the evening, I made my way over to the employee store to get a snack and decided to take my blood pressure on the automatic machine right there. I had a bit of trouble adjusting the cuff and when I did the test, it got really tight, to the point that it was painful. I canceled the test, readjusted the cuff, and tried again. This time, I sat through the pain and the reading came back 230 over 140. My whole life, and even during chemo, I was always right around 120 over 70 and so I just shook my head and figured that the machine was broken and did not think much of it. I went and played soccer that night. I was not very useful on the field as my lungs prevented me from doing much running. I just stood in front of the goal and tried to deflect as many shots as I could. We did all right but ended up losing 2-1. Not all that bad for being a man down and for me being basically a stationary player.
Thursday was Valentine’s Day and I, being the beacon of preparedness, had yet to actually purchase the gifts I had in mind for Eva. I worked my last few hours for the week in the morning and then ventured off to the Beverly Center. I picked up a few things and then made my way back to the apartment. On the way back, I noticed that my ankles were fairly swollen. They were almost hanging over the edges of my shoes. That was odd. Later Eva came home. We had been planning on doing the run/ride thing to the fountain, but I mentioned that I might only be able to go half way. She asked why and I showed her my ankles. She was a little shocked. I had a scan scheduled for Friday morning so just figured that we would stop by Dr. Isacoff’s office afterwards. We called my father and then, though I was reluctant, she, smartly, got me to call Dr. Isacoff that evening to see if there was anything we should do. He said to raise my feet and to come by after my scan the next day.
Friday morning my father picked me up and we went to UCLA for a CT scan. I had had a rough night as I had a bit of trouble breathing (we would later figure out that it was because I had fluid in my lungs) and it felt like my heart was just working really hard. It was just pounding and skipping beats and sort of freaking me out. It was not painful or anything, but it felt like my heart was trying to break out of my chest. In the morning, I generally felt OK but I did not want to have many more nights like that. This was probably my 6th CT scan so the procedure was pretty routine by this point. The scan went smoothly and then I went over to Dr. Isacoff’s office. We met and chatted a bit in his office and then he did a quick exam and took my blood pressure. My diastolic was over 200, he gave me a look, and I knew I would be going into the hospital. My dad related the “broken” blood pressure machine story at work to Dr. Isacoff, and he gave me another look. One that each of us has seen at one point or another, that made me feel about 2 inches tall. We all had a good laugh and it sort of became the joke of the day.
My father and I walked over to the emergency room at UCLA. I felt a little funny walking into the emergency room but I guess I got over that. We actually got all the paperwork filled out and I got into a bed pretty quickly. I was impressed. They put all the little monitors on me and then the flurry of testing began - an EKG, ultrasounds of my legs, ultrasounds of my kidneys (twice), and a CT of my head. It was a full day. Early in the day, they had given me this spray to try to bring down my blood pressure. They say that if it gives you a headache, the spray is still potent. Well I got one major headache but my blood pressure stayed up in the 180 range. That headache made most of the afternoon and the evening fairly unpleasant though I was amazed at the care I received. I must have seen about a dozen different doctors, interns, and residents. My father was with me for most of the day and then, after work, Eva came over and stayed pretty late. I cannot tell you how much strength having my wife around gives me. I know it was hard for her to see me in that state, but it was comforting to see how well I was being taken care of. At one point, I started feeling a little funny, and then I threw-up. The last time I had thrown-up was my first day on the Isacoff weight gain diet when my body just was not ready for an ice cream sandwich. I am a pretty violent thrower-uper, but I managed to get it all out and calm back down. Sometime around midnight, a bed opened up on the cardiac floor and I was wheeled up. I thought I had enough strength to pee on my own, but it was a pretty long pee, and I got tired, and then when I sat down on my bed, I threw-up again. I think it kind of freaks out the nurses when the first thing a new patient does is pee, get exhausted, and throw-up. Oh-well.
On Saturday, I had an echo performed and my heart looked pretty good, but it was working really hard as my blood pressure was still really high. In fact, the next few days would be spent, pretty much continually, increasing my medicine until my blood pressure was finally brought down into a reasonable range. Dr. Isacoff had a few words of encouragement for the cardiac team to meet that end. He does not always display the best people skills but it is nice to have someone like that in your corner. Things just seem to get done quicker. They had suspected it on Friday and by Saturday, the consensus seemed to be that I had Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome (HUS). I had never heard of this before but it did not sound good. Of course, I wiki’d it and found that it is a condition where your platelets clump up on the walls of your capillaries and slice up your red blood cells as they go by. As a result, you platelet and red blood cell counts plummet and all the sliced up red cell remnants end up clogging your kidneys. When your kidneys start suffering all sorts of things happen. Your blood pressure goes up (in my case, way up), your body cannot process fluid, by-products start accumulating in your blood which can cause you to feel pretty bad, and on and on. It turns out that the culprit was almost certainly Mitomycin C, one of the chemotherapies that I had been getting over the last year. What is interesting about chemo-induced HUS is that the onset can be delayed quite a bit, even over a year after receiving the chemo. At a certain point, the toxins from the chemo trigger this process and then, fairly suddenly you have HUS. The treatment is plasmapheresis, which is where they take your blood out of your body, centrifuge out the plasma, and then give you new plasma. To do this they need a fairly high volume catheter. My purple power port was not going to work, so Saturday evening, a nice young cardiologist did a little minor surgery and inserted two tubes into my neck. She was a little hesitant about the operation as my platelets had fallen to around 40,000 but she pulled it off and everything looked good. The next day, they hit 17,000. I wondered if I would make the top ten list for people with the greatest range on their platelets – 17K here and almost 1 million after the splenectomy. Within an hour of the little operation, the tubes were in use and I was getting my plasma exchanged.

Check out the plasmapheresis machine. On the left are about 12 bags of plasma that would be replacing my plasma. I was and am so thankful for the wonderful people who donate blood.

My hospital stay continued through the following Friday and was pretty pleasant. I had incredibly caring nurses that took great care of me and were just amazingly nice. My roommate was a bit of a character - a salty old fisherman that would give the nurses a bit of a hard time. I could not help myself from laughing but every time someone would come in and ask him how he ended up in the hospital, he would just put it out there for them in a big, not gonna take any crap, old man voice, “Well, I ran over myself.” This would usually get a pretty surprised reaction from the inquirer and then he would elaborate. I guess he had parked his car in his driveway, which is on a bit of an incline, and forgotten to set the parking brake. He got out and made his way to the back of the car (I think it was an SUV) and then the car started to roll. He jumped around to the side and shut the driver’s door to prevent it from being pried off on a pole and then tried to reach in through the driver’s door to steer the car as it was rolling back down the hill. Well, he sort of got off balance and ended up turning the wheel so that the front of the car started coming towards him and ended up running over his foot. Then, he was dragged by the car down the incline, and across the street. The car was brought to a stop by a fire hydrant on the opposite side of the street with him sort of halfway under. It is terrible, but I cannot help to smile as I picture the whole episode in my head. I don’t think the hydrant sent up a geyser of water but picturing that is even a little more amusing. He was generally in good spirits and even he would laugh as he would tell it, so that makes me feel better about chuckling. Just to give you more of a sense of the kind of guy he was, doctors would come into the room to check up on him an he would greet them with, “What the hell do you want?” They would say what they were there for and he would generally be fine and amiable after that. It totally reminded me of the skipper from when I was fishing in Alaska – a salty old man and quite a yeller, but if you yelled right back, it would sort of even the playing field and then you could have a conversation.
Otherwise the hospital stay was not particularly exceptional. There was some good bonding time with Eva and my folks. The highlights were when Eva would come into the bed with me. We did not really let anyone know what was going on, so don’t feel bad if you did not get a phone call. It just seemed like this was something that we needed to deal with. There were, and continue to be, pretty scary moments. I got my plasma exchanged everyday and got to know the plasmapheresis nurses pretty well. One big highlight was a little gift that Eva brought me on the second day of my stay, an iphone. How did she know? That definitely kept me amused. What a wonderful wife. Going for walks down the hall were the adventures of the day and by day four, I had patio privileges, which was really exciting.

A breath of fresh air. What a wonderful thing. Nice outfit, ehh?


Later, my dad brought me a scarf and I was able to blend in a little more. On my way out this time the nurses made sure I was not trying to break out and head home.


Dad likes to keep it interesting.

Everything was semi-stable by the end of the week so they let me go home for the weekend with the plan that I would do outpatient plasma exchange during the week and they would just monitor me pretty closely. They sent me home with a crapload of blood pressure medicine and told me to monitor it during the day. I did not think much of it at the time, but looking back, I was a bit heavier than usual which was a little odd, especially after a hospital stay.
It was very exciting to be back home for the weekend. Eva and I just hung out. I got a shower, which was no easy process because I had to saran wrap my neck to keep the catheter dry. I tried not to scare any children when we went out by wearing a scarf to hide the protruding tubes from my neck. My ankles would still swell quite a bit but we just parked me on the couch and kept my feet up. I did not do all that much for the next few weeks except hang out and go to plasmapheresis on the weekdays. Eva and my parents would take turns taking me. Going to plasma exchange with me was not all that exciting so I really appreciate what they did. Once I would get set up in the bed and hooked up, they would give me a dose of benadryl to prevent a reaction to the plasma, and I would be knocked out. Those little naps were actually really nice. One of the best parts was that they would give you warmed blankets to make you comfy. Oh-man was that sweet. One little outing that Eva and I made was to the zoo. I could not really get around all that well but for $25, pretty much anyone can rent a rascal. I thought, “When else am I going to get an opportunity to legitimately rent a rascal?” and though I felt a little funny, it was very enjoyable and fairly hilarious. Eva did make me get up and walk through the spider exhibit, which was probably good for me, but there would have been no way that I would have made it walking around the whole zoo on my own. I could still get around, but I was just slow and would tire very easily.

On the 6th of March, I swapped out the tubes in my neck for some tubes in my chest as the neck tubes are only good for up to 21 days. The chest tubes are much easier to hide though they are still a little obtrusive. Again, showering is a whole process as I have to prep by wrapping them in plastic, try to shower with minimal use of my right arm, and then change my dressing afterwards. Eva describes my behavior like a little child. It takes a lot of prodding to get me in there, but once I am in, I do not want to get out. I have come to appreciate and relish in the wonderful feeling of showering and I actually now long for the day that I can actually submerse myself in water again. People rarely realize the simple pleasures in life like showering or being able to take a dip in a pool.


During this time Eva and I had planned on going to Prague to see Eva’s folks. Well, I was in no shape to travel, so Eva cruised over. I was pretty stable and my folks were more than willing to look after me. It was probably not a good idea to leave me alone so I ended up living with my mother for a few days in my apartment. It was definitely a change from living with my wife but it worked out really well and we adjusted to the situation. Eva really enjoyed spending time with her parents though there was a little excitement that sort of soured her trip. I let her tell you about it. While she was gone, a few college buddies came into town to keep me company for the weekend. It was great to see John and Caroline, Tom, Pesto, and Adam and Tran. We played some mean games of scrabble and, of course, there was a bit of wrestling. As always, I remained on the sidelines.

Once again, my father was very excited to break out the government issued tomato juice for Bloody Marys.


Tom always seems to have a smile on his face. You can almost feel his excitement. Enough celery for you Tom?


During my time out of the hospital, I generally felt pretty good but I was still dealing with quite a bit of fluid. My ankles would be huge by the end of the day and when I would sleep with my feet up, my face would be all swollen in the morning. Sometimes I would look like a boxer after a bout, as my eyes would almost be swollen shut. Here, you can sort of tell that I was sleeping on my left side as that side of my face is slightly more swollen. On the weekend, of the 22nd of March, it got pretty bad. I was up around 190lbs. (my usual weight was about 170lbs.) and I had a hell of a couple nights. I had been having a little trouble breathing during the night anyways but Saturday and Sunday were pretty bad. As the water would redistribute in my body from my legs into my core, it would end up filling up my lungs to the point where I could barely get a breath. I, like others who experience this, realized that if I sit up a bit, the water drains enough to enable me to breath. Usually this is done with just one or two extra pillows. By Sunday night, the only way for me to get even an hour of sleep at a time was to have about four couch pillows under my chest and to “sleep” sort of facing them. It is hard to describe but I think it looked more like I was trying to push around a bunch of pillows than if I was lying down and trying to sleep. On Monday we were meeting with Dr. Isacoff anyways, and Eva suspected that I might end up back in the hospital. She was right, and that was the start of my second hospital stay.
This time I pretty much knew the drill, and in addition to getting my plasma exchanged, I would also be getting dialysis to try to get the water off and allow me to breath. Dialysis was pretty similar to plasmapheresis, they hook your tubes up to a machine, your blood goes out, gets filtered, and comes back in. They would take off 4 liters of water in each session, which made a world of difference. Think about that, nine pounds of water in just a few hours. After the first session I could already breath easier. Eva and I were not happy that I was back in the hospital, but we both knew that I really needed this and that getting the water off would really help me. I had dialysis five days in a row, each day taking off another 4 liters. By the end I was a meager 164lbs. They had taken over thirty pounds of water off of me over the week. What a weight loss plan – no exercise, no diet restrictions, and 30 pounds in a week. Actually, this was the beginning of the renal diet, which is pretty restrictive. What was surprising was that over the previous month and a half, I had actually lost a fair amount of muscle mass just from not doing much. This loss was disguised by the water that I was carrying so once the water came off, all of my muscles were really small. When the water got out of my legs they were so skinny that I did not think they would be able to support me. I think “chicken legs” would be an accurate description. Once again, by the end of the week, I was pretty stable and was ok’d to go home. I almost had to break out as my nurse on the last day needed some convincing, but Dr. Isacoff took care of that. It was good to spend the weekend at home and the next week would be the start of spending some long hours at UCLA.
Now my weeks would consist of getting my plasma exchanged Monday through Friday and getting Dialysis Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. On some Fridays I would also get an infusion of Retuxin to try to stop the autoimmune aspect of the HUS. Considering that plasma would take about 3 hours, dialysis about 4 hours, and retuxin about 4 hours, I was spending a fair amount of time at UCLA. Even though it probably would have been easier to just be in the hospital and do the inpatient thing, I was so thankful to be an outpatient. Just the little bit of activity hanging around the apartment kept me in such better shape than sitting in a bed all day. And though so much time was spent at UCLA, I was able to maintain some semblance of a normal life.

This was pretty much the routine for the last 5 weeks. There have been some ups and downs but it has been a fairly smooth ride. My body has had a hell of a time shaking the HUS and I am still not really in the clear. Eventually, we got me down to my “dry weight” which was around 150lbs. I am a skinny little version of my former self. It blows my mind to think that I was carrying about 45 pounds of water in my tissues. No wonder I could not get around all that well. The kidney doctor described my inability to breathe as essentially drowning – yikes. I am much more chipper these days and though I am still pretty limited on my activity level, I can at least get around and walk and stand for a pretty good amount of time. One hard aspect of the last month has been limiting my fluid intake. Again, I hope all of you appreciate how wonderful it is to be able to drink freely. Since
my kidneys are pretty much out of commission, most of what I take in has to be taken off though dialysis. I now use a little kid’s cup for my beverages and take small sips when I drink. I dream one day of having a slurpee again. Hopefully I will get there. C’mon kidneys, wake up.

Well, that pretty much brings us up to date. I cannot believe it is May already. The last three months just flew by. It is amazing how time passes when you are just focusing on trying to get your body back on track. We seem to be doing ok at the moment, but if anything, this was a reminder of how quickly things can change. Once again, I am trying to take baby steps back towards normalcy. I just have to keep my eye on the prize.

Carpe Vitam and Live Strong,
Tyler

Thursday, January 31, 2008

January 2008 - Gas, Meds, and Sony

I hope all are well and everyone’s year has gotten off to a great start. Again, I am sorry for the lack of updates, you have all heard all the reasons before, so I won’t go through them again. I will go through my health a bit and then do a little tribute to Sony (with pictures), but first I just wanted to comment on our evening out last night. Now Eva and I are not wild types, we have settled into the old married couple routine very well and we like it very much. The whole bar scene seems a little pretentious to us because, well, generally, you would be going to a bar to meet someone, and we are already happy with each other, so we just sort of cut the crap and end up staying in. The big exception would be in Prague, where going to the bar is very much part of the culture and is really the place where a family will go to converse, laugh, and have a good time. Hopefully, Eva and I will be partaking in some of that action in the near future though I am going to have to find another drink. They do say that Pislner Urquell can heal you, though I think I might get my entire month’s allotment of alcohol before dinner would be served, maybe even ordered (these days I go for about one beer a week – and you know that I have been waiting this week for tomorrow’s event). Anyways, though we do not often go out to bars, we do enjoy movies quite a bit and last night cruised over to Century City to catch Sweeney Todd. Spoiler Alert : in case you did not catch the singing in the previews or note that it was an adaptation from Broadway, it’s a musical. This was news to Eva and I and though I may catch some flack from some of the guys, I rather enjoyed it. I may have even sung along a bit here and there. Well, I have been doing pretty well, health-wise, over the last few weeks though I do often have digestive troubles. I really do not remember the last week where I did not have either an episode of diarrhea or constipation, usually both. Eva and I have been trying different foods and sort of figuring out what works but it is still pretty much a mystery. On any given day, we never know if it was the chemo, the medication, or the food that was causing whatever problem I am having. It is frustrating, but we manage, and she has been incredibly tolerant and kind to me. So yesterday afternoon, I was, how would you say, ummm, gassy. I was the gas man. I remember it being a little worse one week about 15 months ago, but it was still pretty bad. We had thought about the movie in the afternoon, and I was still pretty gassy at dinner, but we decided to just go for it anyways. We figured that we would sit away from other people and it would be ok. We were a little worried that it was a Saturday night and that the theater might be packed, but Sweeny Todd had been out for a while, so what were the odds that that theater would be filled. On the ride over to the theater, every time Eva would ask if I still was up for it, usually after I had unleashed another toxic little package, I was only more determined to go and see the movie. Eva did express some concern for our poor fellow theater goers who might have spent $11 on a ticket, $10 more on food, and ended up next to me, sitting through the movie uncomfortable, unhappy, and unable to even swallow their overpriced snacks. We got there a bit early, picked up some twizzlers, and then went into the theater. I never really noticed the difference in theater size in the multiplex, but today as I was hoping for a sparsely filled large theater, I found myself walking into probably the smallest theater at the AMC in Century City (it had about a third of the seats of another theater at the same complex that I had just been to). Luckily, there were not too many people so we figured that we still would be ok. Eva and I walked up to the back corner thinking that maybe people would see the couple in the back row and give them a little room to make out or whatever. Yeah, not so. Slowly but surely, the theater filled up and, even with other perfectly good seats available, it seemed as though people were drawn to us. With every couple that would come up the stairs, Eva and I would squeeze each other’s hand and hope that they would stay low and pick a seat away from us. Each time, we were let down. By the time the movie started, we had a yuppie couple one seat over to Eva’s left, three young Asian girls in the row in front of us, and what was probably a woman and her sister (though possibly lover) one seat over to my right. Well great, I was trying to keep it in as much as I could, but I really do not think that is very healthy for me. I tried to just sit as motionless as possible and hope that the little fart parade would come to an end soon. Amazingly, it did taper off fairly early into the movie and by sort of burying my butt into the seat, I don’t think that those last little packages caused too much harm. Eva and I just smiled and mused over the situation and we were both really glad that we did not call the evening on account of gas. I wonder if there will ever be a way to communicate this in a social setting and create some sort of reasonable solution. Maybe someday, will we have a farter’s and smelly guy section at theaters but then, how will we stop the inevitable stigma that will be associated with the people who nobly quarantine themselves for the benefit of others? How will we know if the poor wives who are just supporting their little gas factories are supporters or contributors, too? Puzzling questions.


To my health… more of the same, what a wonderful thing. I continue to plug away on chemo and have generally been going in about once a week for the last few weeks. I got Avastin one week, taxotere the next, both the week after, and just taxotere last week. Nothing really dramatic has happened, which is good. No hospital stays, no freaking out the family, for the time being, at least. At my last appointment, Dr. Isacoff said I could stop taking Lovenox (a blood thinner). Eva and I were not really sure what prompted this, but if he thinks it is ok, I will gladly give up injecting a needle into my body twice a day. Don’t worry, I will still get my injection fix with Iscador, it is just that now I will be giving myself one injection every two days as opposed to five every two days. Pretty amazing to think that I had been on Lovenox now for about 15 and a half months. Add that up and it comes to roughly 930 injections. Imagine if I threw a tantrum for every injection just like some kids do before getting inoculated. They were never that bad but it was always a little taste of psychological torture getting ready to give it to myself and wondering if I was going to feel nothing today, or writhe in pain for the 10 seconds of pushing the medication. For now, I will have to pay particular attention to my body and if I feel and hard veins anywhere, get checked pretty quickly. I also have a small number of syringes that I can give myself before long flights and such. Now I do not want to get too excited about this because it does not really mean anything and I also do not want to jinx it, but my marker is as low as it has been during this entire journey. I hit 94 in December and 81 in January. This marker does not correlate really well with cancer progress and it cannot be used to definitively diagnose someone, but it is not meaningless either. Eva and I are very cautious with positive news and as such we maintain a great respect for the horrible thing in my body and hope that everything just keeps going as well as it has been going. Just for some reference, a normal human’s CA19-9 is under 40. When I was diagnosed I was at 156 and at times I got up over 600. Some people’s can go into the thousands, which is not good, but it can just as easily come down. These cancers can act in many different ways, some are like bottle rockets that burn out in a bright burst of activity and others are like smoldering fires that don’t shake you up to much, but burn soft and low and long. It takes a lot of luck to survive either type. Oddly, as well as my treatment is going, I have felt pretty crappy for the last couple of weeks. Pretty lethargic - just slow and sore. My activity level has dropped a bit, possibly coinciding with the whether, and there are just some days where I feel like sh#t. Eva usually does an incredible job of dealing with the grumpy hubby and even when I really do not want anyone touching me or moving me or doing anything to me, a few feisty kisses will almost always put a smile on my face. At my last infusion, my red blood cells were low and I ended up needing a shot (same stuff as procrit, different name). I was figuring that maybe just with my reds down, that the rest of my body was not getting the oxygen that it needed.

Another little annoyance was that I had the margins taken on three moles over the last couple weeks and those wounds were a little irritating. Last December I had 6 suspicious moles taken out. Three came back as severely a-typical (the scale goes benign, mild atypia, moderate atypia, severe atypia, pre-melanoma, melanoma) and so they wanted to take larger margins. The first pass already required a couple stitches but now they were talking about a 5mm diameter chunk of meat. Of course the three could not be done at the same time because it would be too much of an impact on the body (though I think it may be more because insurance will not pay for the second or third if it is done at the same time). The three moles were on my upper back and one was right on the biggest vertebrae in my neck. Having that spot be painful and tender was no fun. It felt like I was being hug up and a coat rack by the skin on the back of my neck. Every piece of clothing I would put on would rest heavily on that spot. Every time I would lie down or even just lean back in a chair, I would put pressure on that spot. Eva got better, but would go to hug me and put her arms around my neck and I would cringe and go into a defensive stance. Fortunately, after about a week, the pain eased away, just in time for the last chunk to be taken. The doctor did a great job and all but it was still just ate at me a bit. I did resort to painkillers a few days, yeah, that was nice. Because one of the early ones opened up after the stitches were removed, we are waiting an extra few weeks before removing these. Just don’t freak out if you see my back with about 15 stitches in it in 3 different places.

What a cute couple. I keep trying to stick my chin out for Eva so I do not look chubby, but I do not think it is working.


We did not go anywhere over the last two weekends though there was a little furry surprise that added quite a little excitement to our lives. We got to take care of Sony both last weekend and the weekend before. As pets are verboten in our apartment we ended up spending both weekends down in San Pedro at the folks house. The first weekend, my parents were away in Hawaii, so Eva and I got to play house and the game was ever more realistic with that cute little guy hanging around. I, of course, do not have any real experience raising a kid, or caring for a kid, but I think that I got a good dose looking after Sony. This dog is pampered like a grandchild and because of the heightened importance of taking good care of my oncologist’s dog, we gave this dog quite a bit of attention. Don’t get me wrong, I would try to take great care of anyone’s pet who I was watching, but when the dog belongs to your oncologist, it sort of raises the bar a bit. I cannot imagine the horror that would ensue if anything happened to that dog. That said, 95% of the time Sony is amazing. He is adorable and basically can do no wrong. About 5% of the time he sort of freaks out a bit and either wants something on a counter or wants to play or just wants to annoy the crap out of you. Luckily those times usually pass quickly and then the mellow Sony comes back. I used to think that people who were so attached to their dogs were a little crazy or maybe lacking something in their lives, but I am now one of those people, through and through. I could never understand why people would talk so much about their dogs. Didn’t they have lives? Well, look at me now. Eva and I would constantly muse over the way Sony looked up earlier that day or when he ran onto the bed or whatever. Yeah that was another thing, Sony slept with us. My former self would be shaking his head. I guess I would try to plead with my former self and make him realize how nice it is to have a little fluff ball on your feet at night and how cute it is when he licks your head to wake you up in the morning. I don’t think my former self would understand. Adorably, on Sunday of the second weekend, when my parents got to share in the Sony fun, my dad asked if Sony could sleep with them that night. Eva and I smiled and I just could not believe that this was the same man that would never let Ted, our old dog, anywhere in the house except the laundry room. Sony slept with them that night and I think everyone had a good time.

Sony takes quite an interest in the outside world. One of his favorite spots was up on the couch looking out. My parents thought this was hilarious.


Here is a lethargic Tyler. Eva was kind enough to bring me Sony’s hedgehog to help me sleep better.


Turns out that Sony wanted his hedgehog and while he was getting it, he might as well plant a couple on me.


We took Sony out for a lot of walks and he can do the once around the block thing like a champ.


Going any further distance, like on an actual walk, and he, well, is not exactly up to the challenge. We would joke that Sony can go about halfway anywhere. If we were going for a 1-mile walk, he would go like gangbusters for the half mile, and then just lie down when we wanted to turn around. If we were going for a 2 mile walk, he would go strong for the first mile and again lie down at the turn around. After this had happened a few times, I wised up and brought a backpack. It was a lot easier to carry his sorry ass back home in a pack than in my arms.


I hope everyone enjoys the Superbowl tomorrow. I will be particularly stoked if I hear that anyone we know from Europe stayed up to watch it (I did last year when Eva and I were in Switzerland). Then again, when thinking about watching a 3 hour football game at 12 or 1 in the morning, maybe the highlights the next day would be just as good.

Take Care and Live Strong,
Tyler

WARNING : there are a couple gross pictures below from when I had the mole margins taken out. If you do not want to see a chunk of bloody flesh, do not look any further down. If you do, enjoy.































Here I am all marked up and ready to go.


Here is the piece they took out. It is not all that big, but still a whole lot bigger than anything you would like to be removed from your body.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Year End Thoughts

Well, I am back, for the time being at least. I did not really go anywhere, I have just been left to my own thoughts more than I have been out and about and this usually leads to lapses in writing as, often in these situations, I really do not have all that much to share. My time since Portland has been wonderfully enjoyable and my health has been relatively stable and overall I had an incredible Christmas and New Year’s. Taking my cue from a number of television and print outlets, the passing of the year has served as a time to reflect over the year that is gone and to look to the upcoming year with hope and anticipation. What a year. I will have to admit that I cried more tears of joy and sorrow in 2006, but that in comparison with the other 25 years, 2007 was filled with a spectacular number of highs and lows. Frankly, I am stoked to be here. I feel incredibly lucky for the life I lead. My line, when asked how are you doing, of “Well, if they did not tell me I was sick, I would never know it.” Is getting a little old, which is really just another blessing. I am more than willing to deal with the awkwardness of situations that arise where people are surprised I am still around. Do not get me wrong, everyone I know has been incredibly supportive and it is their support that has really carried me through tough times, but if you look at the numbers (which you shouldn’t), I have tripled or quadrupled my readjusted life expectancy at the time of diagnosis. I just hope social security doesn’t find out how much fun I have been having. Oh-yeah, once again, thanks to all of you wonderful taxpayers. You guys rock! I have rejoined your ranks and if anyone ever hears me calling for a tax cut, I want you to slap me upside the head to shut me up. Seriously, I won’t be mad. It is just an interesting (and wonderful) point in my cancer journey, when you get a bit of unexpected stability. Here is hoping that it will continue.

Reflecting back on the year, I had an incredible time with friends and family and my new wife. I think we are more in love than ever. She still surprises me so often with some other incredibly cute little thing here or there. My parents have been stoic throughout the last year and supported us in all of our decisions. My new parents have been wonderful and have really gone out of their way to make me feel like a part of the family. Eva and I would not be doing nearly as well as we are without the never-ending love and support of both sets of parents. Thank you all. I also want to extend my gratitude to our solid friends and co-workers who have found the time to spend with us and make our lives easier. I returned to work part-time in August, and everyone at Raytheon made the transistion back really easy. It has been amazing how flexible they have been. I can only hope they will let Eva and I jaunt off to Switzerland again this year in similar style.

Health-wise, the year has been wonderfully dull. My scan in November was similar to August, which was similar to April, which was similar to January. Not too shabby. Here is to hoping for the similar scans to continue. That scan in January was a little unnerving as the cyst had actually grown about 10% since the last scan of 2006. That was a big blow to Eva and I and it took an even bigger toll because we were really not expecting it (in the previous scan the cyst had shrunk 50%, but that was also post splenectomy when a chamber or two might have been breached). After going through the January scan, Eva and I were much more cautious when getting the scan results and were a little more prepared for what might come. We tried to focus on the idea that I probably felt pretty good the day before the scan, I probably felt good on the day of the scan, and I probably felt good on the day after the scan. That was what was important. I have had good days and bad days after chemo but continue to be very lucky and tolerate it reasonably well. We successfully smuggled 1200ml of Erbitux (roughly $12,000 US) into the states which was a bit exciting and I have now gotten chemotherapy in another country (which makes me wonder if there is some pointless and nonsensical record out there for some guy who has received chemo in the most number of different countries, somebody call the Guinness people, we may have something that would interest them. Perhaps we could expand the segment into weird activities engaged in while getting chemo like Monopoly or most hot dogs eaten while getting chemo, or greatest number of soccer juggles while on the drip). I have switched regimens a number of times over the last year, but I am unsure of exactly how many times because chemo drugs are added and removed sort of at will and usually the new regimen will have a few of the old chemos. I trust in Dr. Isacoff and seem to be doing pretty well so far.

Sadly, over the year, a great number more people were diagnosed with cancer including family and close family friends. I am sorry to be extending this, but welcome to the club. I know it seems unfair, but only those who have faced this disease can really know all the thoughts and emotions that go through someone’s head after diagnosis. Our wonderful care-providers can know 99% of those thoughts and emotions, but there is really no substitute for living it. If you are reading this, consider yourself lucky. You are a survivor. It may have been only a short time, but you are an inspiration to others. Maybe you should consider starting a blog. It is a wonderful way to release some inner demons if you are so inclined. Just know that all of you are in my thoughts and prayers and that I am also thinking and praying for your care-givers. They certainly deserve more credit than they ever get. At least we have something to fight against, they have to just sit there and listen to us whine, and bring us water when we are thirsty, and a blanket when we are cold, and cook more pasta when we threw up the first batch and are still hungry and need calories to prevent weight loss.

Well that is about as much reflection as I am good for right now. Again, thank you to all of you who have made it an unforgettable year. I wish each and every one of you a fantastic 2008. Remember, years are measured more in tears than anything else, whether they were tears of joy or tears of sorrow, they were moments lived.

Carpe Vitam,
TN

Below are just a few highlights from December.

Back in the doctor’s office the day after Portland. No rest for the weary. Check out the port. Pretty sweet. This was the first time I had ever received Avastin and it was a little rough. The next few days I had tough mornings. It was as if the 5 or 6 minutes of hot water in the shower were too much and I would have to sit down before I would fall over. Usually after an hour or two or three, I would feel pretty normal and was actually able to work most of those days. Eva said I looked green a couple times. I don’t really make it easy for her during those times. I neither want pity or seclusion. I just want her to act as if nothing is happening. That is understandably tough when I look like I am about to fall out of my chair at the breakfast table. I love you, honey.


On the 15th I went down to Long Beach for the Conrad’s Christmas Breakfast. I got there a bit late (I love sleeping in with Eva), but still caught the tail end. What a surprise, my parents were there. Marty and I had competed for a number of years, but I think I am going to have to hand the title over to him. I now have set my sights on a skinny little Swiss girl who thinks she is just as quick as can be. It was really good to see Marty and his family and a number of others from the LB days.


On Monday, the 16th, I only got Mitomycin C and was in pretty good shape so my parents and I decided to go for a little walk/hike in the dog park part of Griffith park. I huffed going up the hills but managed to get my sorry butt up there. Again, it is just so hard to know that the hill that is currently kicking your butt, you could have owned at one time. It is like the decline that an older person experiences slowly over 25 years have been compressed down into about a year. I know I just have to take it easy and relax and that I am very lucky to still be able to get out and about, but there is still a little bitterness that comes out from time to time. Anyways, it was a really pretty day.


I spent the week working and shopping. I felt very American. Raytheon is wonderful because once I did my hours for the week, I would not have to go back until January 2nd. On Friday the 21st, Eva and I went for a walk that started at the same place my parents and I had hiked earlier in the week. The traffic was a bit tough getting there (even though it is pretty close) so we ended up hiking under a full moon with all the city lights below. It was just pleasant. Check out that sky.


There is downtown in the background. LA can be really pretty when it wants to be.


On Saturday the 22nd, my folks, Eva, and I went to Royce hall to watch the Nutcracker. It was wonderful though we had forgotten how much of the audience was likely under the age of 12. Never-the-less, there were some adorable little stinkers and the performance was really well done (though we do believe that there were more dolls in the performance in Prague). As we were heading back to the car, we heard this boy exclaim, “Man, those tights are so itchy.” Sure enough, it was the boy who played Fritz and it appears that his character was not all that much of a stretch for him.


Monday, December 24th
We went in for chemo and sympathized with all of the poor staff who had to work on Christmas Eve. Eva actually started my IV through my port this time and did a great job. Later in the day we cruised down to San Pedro and I was feeling well enough for a walk down to the tide pools. Somehow I managed to get this cute little critter and include the Hirshberg slogan (or at least the half I like).


Here we all are on the rocks. Just another beautiful day.


We had a wonderful dinner and to incorporate some of Eva’s traditions we actually opened up a few gifts on Christmas Eve. It was really fun. We attended a midnight service at Lakewood Community Church, which was really nice, though it was tough not have Grandma there. I still think of her often and still long for the times we spent together. I know she is still with me, but my world had just been a little sadder without her. Here we are all dolled up for church.


We took another walk on Christmas day. This time out to Jap’s cove. It was a great day.



Great sunset on Christmas.


My post-Christmas time was spent mostly playing with the various gifts I had received - a small helcopter (Go Eva!) and hovercraft (Go Mom and Dad!) though I also did quite a bit of reading and puzzling. On the 28th, I did get out of the house and went down to Long Beach for a round of Golf with Tiana, her Dad, and Steve. Steve look fierce early and had some really pretty shots but the back nine took its toll as his endurance faded. David plays with the consistency of someone who actually knows what they are doing and Tiana, well, she is just such a nice person. We had a nice late lunch after golf and then Tiana and I caught up with Ryan Barger (my best friend from middle school) at a little coffee shop. It was really nice seeing him and it sounds like he is doing well for himself.


On the 31st, Eva and I went to Tiana’s as we have done for the last few years. It was fun though I have to applaud Eva for enduring the same high school stories year after year. She thought she knew everyone, though this year presented a whole new bunch of faces. I think Eva and I have lived a bit beyond our years, which sometimes makes it a bit hard to be around people our own age. We had a great time and really enjoyed seeing everyone, but we just sort of have a little different mindset. We look at each other and are just thankful to be together to share another New Year’s, as opposed to others who are struggling with deciding whether or not to pursue another degree or live in another city or whatever. I am not saying that those are not valid concerns; it is just a little different when you are facing something like cancer. We still had a really nice time at Tiana’s and really appreciate her having us. And props to her parents for their incredible help and work. I am making a push for them to join us at the table next year. For the work they do they should enjoy the dinner as well. They’re hip, they’re with it. If they are not at the table next year, maybe I will join them in the kitchen.


Well thats about it for now. I wish all of you a great year. Some final words… Live as if you will die tomorrow, dream as if you will live forever - James Dean.

Take Care and Live Strong,
TN