Persistence of Memory

I find myself thinking more about family these days. Probably driven by my recent medical issues and the family medical issues discussed below. Also facebook is behind these thoughts as old neighborhood friends have sparked my memory and had me running for the stored-away photo albums by their postings of new scans of tattered old photos.

The picture above is just one of dozens of old photos I have of our small immediate family. Thankfully, it never meant any more or any less to me than any of the many other photos that have survived my dozen or so moves the past 25 years. I say thankfully, because if it had meant more to me than the others, then my life would probably be much different than it is now. I don't remember that day in 1970 - I don't remember that shirt, that watch, that haircut. Nor do I remember the sounds and smells associated with that photo. Thankfully. I did not know this until many years later, but the photo above was staged and was taken with a very clear purpose.

Mom and Dad were each 41 in that picture...I had recently turned 7. It was late September but I don't remember if I got out of school for this...I don't remember much of it. The building in the background is Sibley Hospital in Washington, D.C. - The following day Dad was having surgery. I was told that a bee had stung him in the eye...that he had a detached retina and may lose his sight in his right eye. The truth was much more serious...he had cancer. I guess that the surgeon really had no idea what he would find when he began operating. He knew that the eye could not be saved. I'm told that the night before surgery NASA actually did some experiments on Dad's eye to see what extremes of heat and light the human eye could stand. The surgeon told Mom that losing the eye was the best outcome, but he feared that when he got "inside" that the cancer could be well into the brain. If that was the case, he would have to decide just what to do, if anything...Mom was told that Russ could die during the operation...or soon after, if the cancer was already into his brain.

The surgeon was great, the operation was a success. My Dad's eye was removed, and they (thought) all the cancer was gone. Dad's first prosthetic eye didn't fit too well...it even fell out once during a presentation at work. The second one worked much better, and (to me) Dad was pretty much the same old guy as before (although with lack of depth perception and peripheral vision, he was responsible for the destruction of many end-of-aisle displays over the years.)

Dad would live 14 more years. That same melanoma would get him at age 55. The years between 7 and 21 are pretty important for a boy, and I'm sure glad he was with me that additional time. You see, that photo above was meant to be a last family portrait - just in case. Years later when I found out the true story of what happened to Dad when I was seven, I was upset. Upset that I had not been told the truth. But I really was too young to grasp what was happening. I can hardly imagine how my life would have changed if he had died. I was an only child. I cannot imagine the fear I would have grown up with. As it is, I cannot imagine the fear that my mother went through...her own father died when she was just 11. I'm glad that I don't remember that shirt, or haircut, or that watch. I'm glad that I cannot remember the sights, sounds and smells of that day at the hospital. I'm glad that turned out to be just another photo.

Ironically, prostate cancer just might save my life

For years I have given lip service to living a more healthy lifestyle. Eating better, getting more exercise and avoiding stress have all been discussed, but I have been pretty much all talk and no action. Somehow I always manage to find an excuse to avoid tackling these issues.

As I look for a new job, I really hope that I can find a fit with a company where I will be able to limit my stress. Really, the stress thing has got to be up to me. Stress is everywhere...the effects of stress are what's important, so clearly, I'm going to have to learn to cope with stressful situations better than I have in the past. Frankly it's sort of silly to imagine me in a job interview (with unemployment approaching 10%) asking of a potential employer: "You're not going to yell at me are you? I hate that." Or: "I find that I work best under less pressure." I'm sure I'd get the job.

How stupid is it that it took a diagnosis of cancer to get me to finally eat better? In the 3 weeks since my diagnosis I have already lost 10 lbs.. And it really has been pretty easy. Almost every workday I used to eat breakfast in my car during my 40-minute commute. I would grab a Mountain Dew from the refrigerator on my way out the door. Then, usually it was a Sausage McMuffin....sometimes I was a bit better and ate a Jimmy Dean biscuit (hey, it was Turkey Sausage). Now breakfast is a half banana sliced on granola with Soy milk. Prior to diagnosis I ate lunch at my desk most days. Taco John's or Arby's or perhaps Subway. Occasionally I would go out for lunch. You cannot find lunch entrees for under $8...add to that a $1.99 pop and a tip and lunch out is pretty much a minimum $12 investment. If I'm spending $12, I'm eating well....and I'm cleaning my plate. Now lunch is very light, if I have it at all. Or just maybe a snack of some nuts, grapes or (yes) Cauliflower. I'm planning dinners much better now...more fish, more veggies...less starch, and usually smaller portions. While I was nowhere near an alcoholic, I probably drank more than I should have...now I drink less alcohol than I'd like, but it's not drastic. We used to probably split a bottle of wine at dinner 3 times a week...now it's once. I used to have to have a couple cookies before bed...no more. I thought I'd miss all of those things...but I don't. Not one single bit. I hope to lose another 10-15 lbs. before I begin treatment next month. A lean, mean, cancer-fighting machine.

Maybe I'll even get serious about exercise...my treatment choice is going to help me there, I think...more later...

The Prostate cancer I have is early-stage...I probably could ignore it for a couple years, but I have a perfect opportunity to deal with it now. How sad would it be if I treated my cancer only to drop dead of a heart attack in my 40's or 50's? My cholesterol was borderline high last I checked...my mother has already had two heart attacks. I believe that the fright of a prostate cancer diagnosis will eventually have long-term benefits for me because of the positive change in diet, exercise and stress management that it prompted me to implement.

Jennifer

This is hard...I should have done this last week. I don't want this blog to be exclusively about sad things...and it pretty much has been from the beginning...things will get better...we're due.

There were 23 of us cousins on my dad's side. We've always been all over the map as our families grew up in Montana, Washington, California, Texas and Virginia. The ranch in Montana was our focal point, and us cousins would occasionally meet up should our summer vacation plans overlap. I was not especially close to Jennifer...we lived 1500 miles away from each other our entire lives...but I was pretty close to her folks and to a couple of her siblings. A couple weeks ago, Jennifer became the first of the 23 to pass away. At 41 she was also one of the youngest of us cousins. She leaves a husband and three girls. What's fair about any of that?

Ironically Jennifer died of cancer on the day I was diagnosed with cancer. That's where any similarity ends...because compared to Jennifer, I have a paper cut. All who visited her these past months said that she handled things with a tremendous amount of grace, strength and dignity. I should have gone to visit her...but I was so concerned about my job that I never went. I was so concerned about my all-important job that I could not manage to visit my sick cousin...or to attend the surprise 50th birthday party for an old friend...or our last family reunion held in Colorado. I managed one vacation in the last two years of my job...a 4-day-weekend ski trip.

Jennifer is dead at 41. My wife and I have both been diagnosed with cancer in our mid-40's. My dad lost an eye to cancer at 41...and his life to it at 55. Why for the past four years have I probably worked 50 hours a week for 51 weeks a year and still feared I was not doing enough? How much value have I created for the people and companies I have toiled for these past 20+ years? So what will it take for me to realize what is really important in life? If the events of the past two weeks aren't enough, there's no hope for me.

Manhood: A lifelong contest.

One of the handful of coming of age stories that my dad enjoyed repeating was how the boys in his one-room schoolhouse near Manhattan, Montana would often have a contest of who could leave the highest urinary evidence on the back outside wall of the school. Just innocent games that little kids play, but like the TV nature show with footage of the bear cubs wrestling around, we learn that this child's-play is preparing us for the contests of our future manhood.

From my first Junior High gym class at Luther Jackson (the first time we boys ever had the opportunity to shower in school) to the arrival of the Esquire magazine (above) just last week, I figure I have spent most of the past 33 years trying to be a man. Sometimes, when things are going well, you can go months without ever consciously thinking about it. Other times (especially if your territory is invaded) being a man is always at least in the back of your mind.

This is one of those times where it's all drawn together. When you lose your job, get diagnosed with prostate cancer and George Clooney arrives in the mail - all in the same week, a guy can get pretty defensive. There's nothing figuratively more emasculating then your boss flying into town, telling you that you suck, and shitcanning you. You have gone from breadwinner and provider to househusband overnight.

Although I need to be neutral and open-minded in my decision, this manhood thing is having an influence on my prostate cancer treatment choice. I'm told that surgery is the ONLY option for a man my age...but I'm being exposed to other viable options as I do my own research. There are numerous skilled and dedicated surgeons...and there are thousands of prostate cancer survivors who have gone that route with minimal side effects and would do it again. But I'm also reading dozens of sobering stories of those who chose surgery and now are battling incontinence or impotence. Or both. These are not Internet trolls who have a beef with their doctor and are venting their anger online. Most of these men still have extreme respect for their surgeons...most are only posting online to answer direct questions posed by men who recently had the surgery. Perhaps the worst thing about Prostate cancer is not how deadly it is (relatively speaking it is not usually very deadly) but the fact that there are probably 5 or 6 well-accepted treatments that offer similar long-term cure statistics. Basically the main differences are the costs of the treatments, their durations and (last but hardly least) their POTENTIAL side effects. Just like life, no prostate cancer treatment comes with a guarantee that you will be cured or with a guarantee that you'll have no side effects.

Maybe you would not expect a guy that lists "Defending Your Life" among his favorite movies to be very worried about his manhood. And for most of my adult life, I haven't been. But the job loss was a low blow to my self-esteem...and now the future looks uncertain. So, I'm leaning towards a treatment that seems to show less side effects. Especially in the incontinence department...and, to a lesser extent, with impotence as well. I read that whole damn Esquire article and nowhere did it mention men who wear diapers or take little blue pills. And that's a damn shame, because I would imagine that there are some very manly men who do so every day.

I learned something today...

Today's topic is insurance...so I'm not sure if this will be as humorous as my usual fodder of cancer, job loss and heart attacks. Somehow I'll try to tie it all together.



I had made an out-of-state consultation for my prostate cancer treatment and was prepared to travel there next week... (my choice for treatment and my reasons for rejecting other possible treatments will make nice, juicy topics for future posts)... Today I got caught in the Catch-22 of the government and the insurance industry. I lost a battle but there is a silver lining. The clinic I was visiting called my health insurance company to get approval for my possible treatment. They were told that I was terminated effective March 31st and I had no coverage. Now of course I plan on extending my coverage with COBRA, but the paperwork is not complete. Just where the hell is my COBRA paperwork? It should have been here by now, but no.



After several chats with friendly customer service ladies I learned that no COBRA paperwork has gone out in the last week due to the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009. (The Stimulus package, of course!)....

By the way I can navigate through the United Healthcare automated menu in about 8 seconds and get to an actual person...here is how you do it with voice commands:



1) No!

2) Operator!

3) Benefits!

4) Medical!

5) No!



Number 5 above is optional....you will reach a person just as fast by saying "Yes!" but you'll be agreeing to take a short survey at the end of your call. So what does the Stimulus plan have to do with me not receiving COBRA paperwork? Everything. Turns out that if you were (or you are planning to be) laid off between last September 1st and this coming December 31st, the Stimulus will pay 65% of your COBRA premium for up to 9 months. Sweet! How many times have I said, "Where's MY freaking stimulus check?" And now that I have joined the involuntarily terminated I'm gonna get my very own. Hey, don't hate me...somehow I've managed to make roughly 230 consecutive, on-time mortgage payments in my life... so up until right now I've been a part of the solution. Now I'm gonna be a part of the problem for a few months. Okay?



I guess that this 65% thing has not been working so well...the payments are just not getting made and the involuntarily terminated have been picking up 100% of their premiums the past couple months. So the past week has been the week that COBRA is catching up to the stimulus requirements....and that means that my paperwork has not yet arrived....and that means that my cancer treatment consultation cannot happen next week as planned. I was a little pissed for a while...but I managed to push the consultation back 3 weeks...and I managed to move my flights around (get this, I actually SAVED $150 by changing my flights!) And I figure that by the time my first COBRA premium comes due, the system will be working.



What I learned today is as follows: The stimulus plan will pay nearly 2/3 of my health insurance for a bit (HR doesn't tell you that when you get cut loose...if you know someone that may qualify, pass it along) And I also learned that if you book a trip on Travelocity you can cancel it WITHOUT a penalty if you act soon enough.



Yes. We. Can.

Hey Mom, your ride's here!!!

This has been one hell of a week...if you started with my original post a few days ago you know what I mean. Downright freaking Shakespearean. I have held up very well and been very optimistic....that's because stuff has been happening to me...and I'm strong and I have confidence...and I have a plan. But today, something happened to my Mom, and I could hardly keep it together. I had spent the last couple days with Mom in Bozeman...I came to tell her in-person just what has been going down of late. I was calm and positive...I did not think I freaked her out. However I was very worried about her. Her breathing was labored...she was not eating well. She said this had been going on for a few weeks. Before I left to return home this morning, I made her make a doctor's appointment while I looked on.

I made it about 45 minutes down the road when my phone rang. "I think I'm having a heart attack. Do you think it would be okay if I called someone at the ranch (our relatives 20 miles away) to drive me to the doctor?" I told Mom to HANG UP and dial 911. NOW. For the first time in my life I used that "authorized vehicles only" interstate turnaround and sped back to Bozeman...I arrived at Deaconess just as her ambulance did and met her in ER #7. She was talking...mostly apologizing for messing up my day. They slipped a Nitro tab under her tongue and did an EKG. Mom had a heart attack in 2004...she didn't even feel that one...it was on a Saturday and no heart surgeon was at our small hospital so she was flown to Billings and had some stents put in. She felt this heart attack. In a few minutes the doctor came back in and said she had just had a BIG heart attack. He thought there was a dangerous blood clot stuck in her artery and recommended powerful blood thinning drugs. He explained the risks and gave her the drugs. She got one more Nitro tablet and eventually more Nitro in her IV. Her chest was hurting. The heart surgeon in Bozeman was again out of town, so Life Flight from St. Vincents in Billings was called. They were there in an hour. By then the second EKG showed that the thinning drug was working and the doctor said her reading was much better. That was my first opportunity to relax. (BTW, that's Mom getting loaded for her second $10,000 helicopter ride in the above picture...nice day for a flight)

It was just a coincidence, but the same surgeon that did her stents in 2004 was waiting for her at St. Vincents. Dr. Dean is damn good. By the time I tied up a few loose ends and drove to Billings mom was just waking up in room 217 of the ICU, the proud owner of 4 new stents. I saw the before and after pictures. Two arteries were nearly totally blocked. Lucky woman. I was totally impressed with everyone from the EMT's that brought her in, to the Deaconess ER crew, to the Life Flight crew, to the St. Vincent's staff. It all worked exactly as it should have.

Sports analogy

Last week my boss flew in to let me go. It took about 45 seconds. I was told he feared we were losing market share in my town. I dispute that, and I can pretty much prove it is not true. So, if that's the case there must be a "reason behind the reason" I was fired. He's just not that into me, I guess. Times are tough...especially in my industry (media)...Apparently this is no time for a "player's-coach."

I liked my boss...I liked our company...I would have liked to have been able to stick around and see things through...I think we would have emerged from this downturn in a strong fashion. I'm not really angry - in fact, my stress level has dropped considerably.

Pete Carroll was considered a pretty big failure with the New York Jets...a year later Bill Parcells came in and turned the team around. A much different style was needed. The right guy at the right time in the right place. I'm a lot more like Pete Carroll than Bill Parcells. As much as my boss wanted me to be like Parcells, I probably never will be able to adopt that sort of style. Hopefully with my next job I'll find "my" USC.

Dr. Strangeglove or: How I learned to stop worrying and love the balm

I like my urologist, but I'm not sure if our relationship will end well. He's smart, skilled and he showed genuine compassion for me when he delivered my biopsy results and even during the biopsy itself (those of you with time should Google "prostate biopsy" now...I'll wait)... he decided to take a couple additional core samples than we had planned on..."I really apologize for the extra couple minutes this is taking." I remember unclenching my teeth and saying, "No worries...while you're up there take your time and be sure and get everything you need." Yeah, I said something really brave like that.

I first met him after a referral from my GP...after my PSA test came back high for my age. I was lead into the exam room to wait. There was a box of rubber gloves and three tubes of lubricating gel (all in various states of depletion) on the counter. Nothing else. I had many minutes to ponder this. I had read enough to know that there was nothing high-tech about a DRE despite the word "digital" at the beginning. I'm proposing renaming it the "Analog Rectal Exam." It was over soon enough, and while it was uncomfortable, I fared better than Peter Griffin did on his: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHKTE75dgE4 ...although ironically the EXACT same people were out in the main waiting room of my urologist's office as Peter's. I would soon find out that the DRE is just the tip of the iceberg of prostate cancer indignities....a mere paper cut compared to the butt kicking to follow (thank you sir, may I have another?)

My urologist says that while I certainly do not need to rush to a treatment, surgery is the ONLY sensible option for a man of my age. I believe he has my best outcome in mind when he says that...but I'm just not so sure...I have been researching other options (another topic for another day) I bet doctors just LOVE the Internet (again, another topic for another day)...

Introduction

My wife always says I should write a book. Well, this is a small step in the direction of self expression. My free time has increased thanks to losing my job...and getting a cancer diagnosis has certainly been the catalyst that has launched a thousand blogs.

Unlike others, I'm not going to focus on the cancer...it will certainly be front and center as I navigate my options. Prostate cancer seems like it will be great fodder for writing...not because it is especially vicious (it usually is not...mine is not), rather because it is so controversial. From testing, to diagnosis, to treatment choice, I'm not sure that I've seen so many contradictory views...most very passionately held.

I'm not a victim...I know why I lost my job...I failed to modify my behavior in the manner that my boss wanted me to (I'll address this in a later post)...And as for the cancer, I'd bet that my crappy diet, lazy exercise habits and stress level are the root causes of it. A week after getting the axe and a couple days after my cancer diagnosis I can honestly say that I am more relaxed than I have been in YEARS.

A friend of mine posted this on her facebook page today, and I'm gonna steal it...thanks, Cookie:

If you really want to be free, you've got to be prepared to lose your world--your whole world. If you're trying to prove your world view is right, you might as well pack your bags and go home. ~Adyashanti