Always something new

The fun thing about chatting with the girls while they are in Caz, is that we always seem to catch them in the middle of a new and exciting activity. This is how they greeted us yesterday.



I can't remember if that was before or after we interrupted them in the middle of a felt-spinning project with Aunt Susie. The day before they were still dripping wet from their swim in the lake.

Of course, today we caught them in the middle of a punishment for "not listening". As their father, it shames me to say that listening is not their strong suit. Talking, however, they excel at!

Damn! It is a rule

I found it right here. John Dvorak from PC Mag says it is a rule. Rule number #3 in fact (there are apparently 8 rules...who knew!)

3. Humility. Blog daily. If you miss a day, use the next day's entire blog entry to apologize profusely. Explain in detail the fascinating adventure you had that caused you to miss a day of blogging. Make sure to rave about how great blogging is and why everyone should blog and how blogging will change the world.

But hmm... maybe Dvorak is being facetious...he is after all a loud mouth, smart-ass who is notoriously wrong

By the way, I think my use of the word "smart-ass" satisfies Rule 4 (and I get bonus points for using "damn" in the title). And my links to obscure blogsphere stuff about Dvorak ought to satisfy Rule 5. And I'm pretty sure I already have Rule 7 down, because "Squatic Diversion" is like the cutest name I can think of.

Woohoo! I think I have followed most of the rules and I didn't even know they existed!

Rule

Mathilde tells me that there is a rule that if you blog you have to write in your blog once a day. I didn't know such a rule existed. I'll have to Google it.

Chatting with the girls

With girls on the other side of the Atlantic, we have to get our daily dose of them through the computer. It's actually not to bad. I mean you don't get to hug them, but when they invariably start pushing each other and fighting, my parents get to deal with it.

Here is a picture of them saying goodbye to us.



That thing they are doing with their hands...my Mom taught it to them years ago, and claims it is sign language for "I love you". I don't know about that, but the girls think it's pretty fun. They have got into the habit of giving us the "I love you sign" whenever we dropped them off at school or daycare. We just thought it was sweet, then one day a concerned mother asked Mathilde why our kids were giving us the devil sign. Mathilde thought about explaining, but she just hissed at the woman instead. Rock on!

Unchemo 4.0

It was 6 weeks ago today that I got my last chemo. Two weeks after the last chemo, I had a post called Unchemo 1.0 where I posted a picture of myself. I have taken a picture everyday since then and I am turning it into a little time-lapse film that I will post here when I get enough days down to make it interesting. In the meantime, you can see the direction I am heading in. Below, on the left, is a picture of me on Unchemo 1.0 (that's day 1) to the right is me today, Unchemo 4.0 (43 days later).

Check out my handsome eyebrows! And more importantly, notice how my head is now back to normal size (Aiden, if you are wondering, normal size head means I am ALL done).

Life ought to be backwards

There is a lot of George Carlin stuff popping up on the internets these days. I just stumbled across a great quote attributed to him (which it looks like he actually didn't say). Either way, it's brilliant, and he COULD have said it.

"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating …and you finish off as an orgasm."

Radiation 20.0 (or Finito)

Had my 20th and last radiation today. Feels weird. Anti-climactic really. I am happy to be done, but radiation has been so easy, I have felt done for quite a while now. At least no more daily trips out to the hospital.

I'll wait with the cork popping until I get my PET scan in August. To make an analogy, we are in the stage of battle where we have fired all of the big guns, and now we wait for the smoke to clear and hope there is nothing left standing. I feel pretty darn good about it though!

Big smile

This video made me happy. I bet it makes you happy too :-)


Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

Arrived safely

It could be its just Mathilde and I, but we experienced that there is something distinctly nerve-racking about putting our two children on a plane without us. We were very relieved when Mathilde's Dad called to tell us they had arrived safely and everything went fine. About an hour later Emily and Anna called, and they were babbling away with excitement about their adventure.

Sara D. sent us this picture the next day (and in her email, she even said our girls were "so polite and friendly" woohoo! the training paid off!) Thats Mathilde's Dad on the right, and then my Mom and the girls' cousin Madeleine. Everybody looks happy (but I guess we need to teach Anna that "show teeth" does not necessarily equal "smile").



We video chatted with the girls yesterday, and they were doing great. It was 9 am their time, and they had already pushed Grampy in the water and gone swimming themselves. My parents claimed they were about to eat breakfast, but as far I could tell the girls were just happily chowing down on the remnants of the goodie-bags Sara D. had given them for the ride from Newark to Caz. (My Mom will claim that's not true, but I have a screen shot of Anna pouring orange, cheddar cheese, fish crackers in her mouth like she's Homer Simpson)

Patronized

We took Emily and Anna (and Mathilde's Dad) to the airport today. Mathilde and I had positive, happy smiles pasted on our faces, but even so, when we were saying goodbye, the girls did seem sad. Neither of them cried, but I at least had the impression that they were trying hard not to. And then they waved goodbye and walked around the corner towards security.

They didn't know it, but we could still see them through a window off to the side - and there they were, not more than 10 seconds after our nearly-tearful goodbye, holding hands, skipping and giggling. Man! The little squirts had been patronizing us all along. The whole time Mathilde and I were disguising our glum faces, they were fighting back the smiles.

Depression

We are about to put our two little monkeys on a plane and send them over to Gamma and Grampy for two and a half weeks. They could not be more excited - while Mathilde looks a bit like I used to when it was time to get chemo again.

Their bags are packed, and they are sleeping soundly. They fly tomorrow at noon.

Radiation 18.0 & 19.0

Only one more to go.

As I was flossing my teeth last night, I noticed that I have two red spots on my chest. One big one in the center, and a smaller one by the left armpit. They look like a slight sunburn. That is the cumulative effect of the radiation leaving its mark. I have also been noticing that the skin on my chest is a bit irritated - much like a sunburn. None of it is a big deal, but I have to admit the spot on my chest is bigger than I thought it would be.

I had a meeting with the oncologist again today. It was a different one this time too, and although this guy was very good, I am noticing that each oncologist seems to be interested in something different (except the last one who wasn't particularly interested in anything at all). The doctor today was mostly focused on my lungs (which sound fine and aren't bothering me at all really). He said that in very rare cases radiation treatment can cause what he called "chemical pneumonia" (which sounds like the same problem the hematologist talked about during chemotherapy). He also said that it can occur weeks or months after treatment, so even though I got a clean bill of health today, he scheduled me to come back for another check-up in two weeks.

Also, I have realized that after a week of radiation my energy level is lower than normal. Today, after getting back from the hospital, I was feeling pretty groggy. I lied down on the couch to take a quick 15 minute snooze, and woke up two and a half hours later. I felt guilty about sleeping, but the doctor did tell me to nap if I felt tired (where were those doctors when I was a teenager).

Radiation 17.0

Today wasn't quite as smooth as the other days have been. There are now two of the four new radiation machines that are down, so I had to wait over an hour for treatment. It took a bigger chunk out of my day than I would have liked, but considering thats all I really have to complain about, I won't complain.

Tomorrow I am scheduled to be there for 45 minutes (as opposed to the usual 15). They will be reducing the radiation field for the last three treatments, so they need to realign me and adjust the machine.

Now that radiation is almost done, I am thinking I need something else to monitor. Chemo sort of gave me a steady subject for a few months, and radiation has at least given me inspiration for 20 unique titles. I was talking to my Dad earlier about how it might be good to find something new to document in order to keep the blog going. I am not sure exactly, but I am considering "The Kiwi Report".

Probably not, though.

Radiation 16.0

There was a traffic jam on the way to radiation this morning so I arrived 20 minutes late. Turned out that wasn't such a big deal, because Odin was broken (or as the euphemistic radiologists say, "sleeping"). I waited around for a while, then they sent me home with instructions to come back this evening at 8:45. So I did that and it went fine. Odin was still broken, so I got hammered by Thor.

Air time

Yesterday, when Luke and his family were visiting, we took a walk over to the playground. After tearing through the place like a pack of chimpanzees the kids ended up at the swings where they had a contest to see who could do the best jump.

Here is Emily going for distance (that's Max in the background).


This is Sebastian, getting pretty damn high.


Then we have Max again, really flying.



I watched them for a while, and I have to admit I was impressed. And yet I still couldn't resist the urge to give it a go. You know, to really show them how its done. I figured I'd get some momentum going in those big-bird legs of mine, and then grab some sick air that would just make all those young tykes say "wow!"

Well...what is it they say? That thing about a picture and a thousand words? I can tell you, not one of those words was "wow!"

Radiation 15.0

3/4 of the way there! Swallowing hasn't gotten any worse than it was last week, so I still have nothing to complain about.

Busy weekend

Now that chemo is behind me and radiation has proven to be pretty easy, it's nice to realize that we ware actually getting back to a normal life. Friday we were at a party at Emily's school. It didn't end until 11:00 so I left early and put Anna to bed. I guess radiation has taken a toll on my energy, because when Mathilde and Emily got home at 9:45 I was conked out on the bed next to Anna.

Because we planned to have brunch guests on Sunday, Mathilde and the girls made me a Father's Day breakfast on Saturday. They woke me up with coffee and a raspberry smoothie. The four of us sat in bed and drank smoothies while Emily talked about how Mathilde was "SO embarrassing" at the party. I guess Mathilde made the mistake of grabbing Emily and her friends and dragging them out onto the dance floor. Although I really don't like that Emily is growing up so fast, I am happy that she is entering the age where we can do stuff to embarrass her. The ultimate parental weapon :-)

I had kind of figured that since it was Father's day I would be able to just hang out and do nothing for a while, but Mathilde had other plans. A few days earlier, Mathilde had discovered the joys of online auctions. With her first many bids, she immediately got outbid. After a while, I think she had given up hope of actually winning anything and was just bidding on stuff for the malicious satisfaction of making some sorry sucker pay more.

That's at least how it was Tuesday evening when I headed out to pick up Emily from a friend's house. When I came home 15 minutes later Mathilde met me at the door saying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry". She had stumbled across a faux sandstone fountain that was up for auction and decided to make some fool pay a bit more... well, to make a long story short, we spent Saturday morning picking up our new faux sandstone, plastic fountain. (Actually we just drove to the warehouse, looked at at, and said we didn't want it after all - Mathilde claimed she didn't know "epoxy" meant plastic).

Saturday evening we had dinner at Pernille & Benjamin's house and the girls got to see baby Sarah again. They actually got a double dose of babies this weekend, because Luke and his family came by for brunch yesterday. For Emily and Anna that was about the best thing in the world. They both adore Luke's teenage sons and now, he has a 9 month old daughter they can play with too. His daughter was extremely cute, and his sons were a complete riot. Those two have the ability of making any old game ten times the fun - I spent half the day in stitches laughing at the crazy stuff they did.

By the end of the day we were all exhausted, and Emily and Anna hit their pillows like rocks last night.

Radiation 14.0

I didn't quite finish this post on Friday, and then it turned into a busy weekend.

Radiation went fine Friday. Luke and I had a meeting with the accountant at 9 Friday morning, and since I was driving, I dragged Luke along with me to radiation at 10:30. I think he actually enjoyed himself, though. I told Luke he could just wait in the waiting room, and he said something to the extent of, "No way!" That was fine with me. I thought he could even help me understand the nice Swedish nurse, but instead he focused on charming the grumpy nurse. It's funny, I have had the grumpy one 3 times, and she hasn't said more than "hello" to me. Well, for some reason she thought Luke only spoke English, and as soon as she realized that, she started yammering away in English. She explained more about the process to Luke than anybody has ever told me.

I don't think they let Luke push buttons in the control room like they did with Emily and Anna, but I don't think that bothered him. His first comment when it was all over was, "SO COOL!"

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

You are the coolest - and if when my girls grow up they think I'm just half as cool as you are, then I'll know I did something right. Thanks for everything - and thanks for being there!

Neck and neck with Russia, for the win

I would think this image ought to make us want to re-evaluate a few things.

Radiation 13.0

We're getting there! I had the weekly meeting with the doctor. It was a new doctor again this time, and this guy was a real dud. He gave the impression that talking to me was about as interesting as watching paint dry (maybe I should send him some pictures of the flower bed).

Luckily there was a chipper nurse there who took over the conversation and put him out of his misery. She also gave me some licorice flavored novocain syrup that I can drink before I eat - if swallowing becomes too painful. It sounds like a fun thing to play around with, but I think I'll wait until swallowing gets really bad before giving it a try.

I asked about the CAT scan. The doctor seemed a little confused about why I had the CAT scan, since they have planned all along to reduce the radiation field after the 16th time. I said that it seems a number of procedures have been performed that turned out to be unnecessary. He responded with a blank stare. Anyway, it really does seem like that wacky doctor I met the first time went a little pencil happy when filling out my forms.

No more Amish dude

Check it out - mustache seedlings all over the friggin' place! I knew I still had it. (And yes Mathilde, NOW I will shave)

Radiation 12.0 with a side of CAT scan

Things looked a bit backed up at radiation this morning. When I arrived at 8:30, the waiting room had 3 other people in it - it is usually empty. Luckily for me, I had a CAT scan I had to get to at 9:00, so I got jump to the head of the line.

The reason for the CAT scan is to measure the size of the lymph nodes now (after 12 treatments) and see if it is possible to reduce the size of the radiated field. The last time I had a CAT scan, I had my spiderman costume on. Since that has been retired, I got a few more tattoos - so now I have like 7 tattoos on my chest which sounds pretty cool

--------------------
TECHNICAL EXPLANATION OF THE NEW TATOOS
(not required reading for the exam, simply here to quell any fears my parents may have that the people running the radiation ward are disorganized dingbats)

When you get a CAT scan for radiation, they mark you so that you can be aligned to the same position when getting radiation. The last time that happened, I had the mask. Because I didn't actually need the mask, the radiologists aligned me the first time using mask. Once aligned, they scrapped the mask, and gave me 4 new tattoos which would allow them to align me in the future without the mask. However, those 4 new tattoos were created using a laser pattern they do not have at the CAT scanner. Thus, the CAT scan technician couldn't align me with those tattoos. So, he remarked me so that if they decide adjust the radiation fields, they will be able to align me to the latest CAT scan.

TECHNICAL EXPLANATION COMPLETE
--------------------

Radiation and the CAT scan went fine, but today WAS one of those days where, while lying there half naked on a board, with a tube in my arm, listening to the electric hum of the room, and staring at the green laser lights of a big ass CAT scan machine, I thought to myself, "What the fuck am I doing here?"

I also realized a few minutes ago that I am feeling a side effect of radiation. I have suspected for the past few days that it was getting slightly difficult to swallow (they said that would happen). Stuff kind of stalls halfway down and I need to give it another push. But just now, for lunch, I made a tuna fish sandwich on a toasted roll. I was kind of hungry so I didn't chew the first bite so well. It slid down my esophagus (thanks for the word Kelley) like a ball of gravel. Chewing thoroughly helps a lot though (and I may as well use those teeth now that I am being so diligent about flossing them).

I'll put up with the side effects though, because I have decided I like this radiation stuff. I haven't talked about night sweats much lately because they kind of bummed me out. They certainly were reduced dramatically by chemo, but they never really went away. Since I have started radiation though, they have been completely gone. I can feel that I am really relieved by that. As I mentioned sometime earlier, the lingering night sweats could have been caused by many things (they could even have been a side effect of chemo), but they still made me nervous. Now I feel certain that if there were any cancer cells still standing after chemo, then radiation has come along and delivered the final knockout punch.

An oldie but a goodie

I saw this one several months ago and it made me laugh pretty damn hard. I just happened across it again, and laughed just as hard this time. (As I write this, I suddenly suspect that I may have posted this video here before. If I did, and I forgot, its only cause I had cheom brain back then - hopefully you'll laugh the second time too)


Bird Craps In Reporters Mouth - Watch more free videos

Radiation 11.0

Still doing fine. Happy about that.

Radiation 10.0

Halfway there. Can't really say I am feeling any side-effects. I was a bit more tired than usual on Friday and Saturday, but felt fine yesterday. Maybe the weekend off did me some good.

Fond memories

I was just chatting with my Mom about the girls visit this summer. Emily and Anna are counting the days (13) until they arrive in Cazenovia, where they will spend 3 weeks with my parents. Mathilde and I won't be making the trip this year (the uncertainty around the length of my treatment made it difficult to order tickets in time), so, that means my parents will have the girls alone, together with the girls' cousin Madeleine (8 yrs)

The 3 girls love everything about the lake - swimming, boating, s'mores by the campfire, sunbathing on the boat house, pushing Grampy in the water. My Mom and I were chatting about this, and my Mom pointed out that the girls even love the rules that come with a life by the lake. And she is right. The girls are so proud of the way they remember to ask if it is okay to go on the boat house, to ask if it is okay to go IN the boat house, to ask if it is okay to go on the dock, to ask if it is okay to go in the water. After about three days of this incessant asking, I think the adults are so fed up with up it that they just want to scream "YES! YES! YES! Of course you can go on the boathouse - you just stepped off it 3 friggin' seconds ago!"

This brings me to my fond memory. Back a few years ago (I think Emily was 6 and Madeleine was 5), in order to eliminate trips up to the house, and thus put a damper on some of the relentless asking, my Mom got the bright idea that she would leave one of those little plastic, kiddy potties at the boat house. The idea was that if the girls had to pee (or as she says "tinkle") they could do it in the potty (instead of running all the way up to the house). The pee would then be emptied in the bushes, and play would continue.

My Mom showed it to the girls, and they giggled at first because they knew they were far too old for a little kiddy potty. But being enthusiastic about all things involving the lake, it didn't take long before they thought it was pretty cool. And it wasn't more than an hour after that, that my Mom discovered that one of her sweet grand-daughters had taken a big, giant crap in the little kiddy potty.

After that, I guess she decided another question to answer and a few trips up to the house weren't so bad.

The Kevin kicks ass mix

A little package arrived in the mail last week from Brian and Alice. It said it was from both of them, but I suspect Alice was the lead producer on this one (it had tell-tale signs of Alice's creativity all over it). Included was my very own super cool mixed CD entitled...


This is what I mean by Alice's creativity - check out the CD with little Ninus bunnies all over it. She's so thoughtful!


Thanks Alice (and Brian). I love it! You made my day :-)

The bushes are back

Okay, so they aren't quite the bushes of yesteryear, but they are looking promising.

Radiation 8.0 & 9.0

Radiation has gone fine the last two days. Yesterday I had a chance to meet with the radiologist who planned my treatment. I was a bit apprehensive because I heard he was Swedish. I don't know why, but there are quite a few Swedes in the radiology department. I have nothing against Swedes, I just don't understand what the heck they are saying.

Now, I have always thought that Danes and Swedes were actually just pretending they understood each other. I assumed it was just another strange quirk of Scandinavian pride that forced them into this elaborate charade, with enthusiastic head nodding, that makes it totally obvious to the casual observer that OF COURSE they understand what the other is saying. But being in radiation the last week and half, I have changed my opinion - I think they really DO understand each other.

I guess I assumed they were pretending, because thats what I do. There is this Swedish nurse, and we have delightful conversations and I answer all of her questions. But I really don't understand what the hell we are talking about. I can tell by the tone that we are just chit-chatting, so I figure it's okay if I play make believe. For example, the other day she asked me what type of cancer I had, and I told her I had Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She smiled, asked the same question in a different way, and I realized that she had actually asked me what my occupation was. I told her I worked with computers, and we moved on. No harm done. And besides, if you look at the last 7 months, my first answer wasn't even that far off.

So, as you might imagine, when I heard the radiologist was Swedish, I figured it was time for me to drop the charade - this wasn't just idle chit-chat. I decided that I was just going to ask him if we could speak English. But as it turned out, the radiologist actually spoke full-blown Danish, so my communication problem was solved.

Our meeting was very reassuring. He was about my age - which I think is an okay age for a doctor who works with high tech stuff. He was very sharp and seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. But what really struck me about him was that he was an immaculate dresser and very well groomed. And that pleased me, because if I could pick any doctor to figure out exactly where I am supposed to be radiated, with complex angles and millimeter precision, I'd definitely take the one with the shiny shoes, crisp, white lab coat, and the razor sharp crease in the pants.

He showed me my scans and the fields where I get radiation. A chunk of my left lung is hit as well as a small slice along the top part of the heart. My right lung isn't really affected at all. What he did say is that I shouldn't be too concerned about side-effects. I am getting a pretty low dosage of radiation, because, as the nurse said in the first meeting, Hodgkin's is pretty sensitive to radiation. All in all, I felt very good after I chatted with him.

Today, the girls had the day off, so they came out with me to see what this radiation business is all about. Anna just thought it was a regular party, but I guess Emily got a bit concerned when they aligned me on the bed under the crisscross of lasers. When Mathilde took the girls out to the control room, Emily clutched Mathilde worriedly and said, "Does it hurt it Daddy?" Mathilde assured Emily that I couldn't even feel it, and then Emily cheered up. The nurses let the girls help out in the control room (only with the non-critical stuff) so when it was all over I heard Emily's sweet, happy voice over the intercom say, "Now you are all done". A few seconds later the girls came running back into the room with big smiles. Emily was saying, "Could you hear me? Could you hear me?" And Anna was yelling, "Emily talked and I pushed the button!"

Once again, the girls charmed the nurses, so I should get extra nice treatment from now on.

In the waiting room, the girls had a contest to see which one could find the "most exciting magazine". They both went for the ones with loads of Royal gossip.


Here is a picture of Anna mingling with the nurses.


Her are the girls In the control room. Had I known, I may have been a bit nervous that they let Anna get so close to the buttons. But I think they actually control it all a few desks over.

Goodbye Heather

I was very saddened to check Heather Reid's blog this morning and read that she died June 1 after a long and brave fight against Hodgkins Lymphoma.

I never met Heather, so I really only knew her through her blog. But through her blog, I figured out this much. She was courageous. She was strong. She could find a way to smile and something to smile about through the worst of it. I have thought about Heather often during this last 7 months of my treatment - I have used her as my inspiration. I remember feeling pretty awful once, recovering from a bout with chemo. Just as I was feeling sorry for myself, an email arrived from Rod letting us know that Heather had just given birth to a baby girl (Kylie).

So there I was, thinking I had it tough with my chemo, and Heather, who had had chemo herself a few days earlier, goes ahead and gives birth at that same time. I can't imagine the strength that that must have required or how tough that must have been. But seeing the pictures of her with Kylie, taken shortly after, Heather was just one big smile. From that moment on, whenever I was feeling particularly bad, my mantra became, "At least I am not in labor".

Another thing I figured out about Heather is that she was an optimist. And optimism is a good thing. I'll even say its one of the most important things. It gives you the strength and the courage to fight, but more importantly, it lets you find the good things in life when life tries to fool you into thinking its not so good. Heather was an optimist, and in the end, that caught me off guard. In my mind, I had already written the end of her story. Her treatment was going to work. She was going to get better, then Heather and her husband Jim and Kylie were going to live happily ever after.

In the last post Heather wrote in her blog, at the end of May, she said she had to go back to the hospital because of a problem with her red blood cells and platelets, she wrote, "So I won't be online for the next several days but wanted to throw a quick update." I kept checking in the days and weeks after, waiting for Heather to come back and to say everything was good again. Even when her husband Jim posted an update a few weeks later saying Heather was really struggling, I still didn't get it. I didn't think (or maybe I wouldn't accept) that there was any way someone like Heather could NOT win.

I still don't get it.

This cancer business is really giving me some insight into how I deal with things. One of things I have found out about myself is that I have a real want to have things mean something. I am not a religious person, but I can't get away from this desire for meaning. I appreciated Heather's brother's blog post this morning, because it helped to see the good in something so sad.

I have been thinking about it all day, about finding the meaning in it. I don't know Heather enough at all to propose to find the meaning of her life or her death. But for my own sake I can't help but trying to find the meaning in what I do know. I keep coming back to Kylie - the little girl who got herself (with Heather's help) into this world against all odds. An image keeps replaying itself in my mind, an image of the fragile, white seed of a dandelion floating through the air and settling in the ground. I find a shadow of meaning in the image. I first "met" Heather when she was a woman with cancer who was pregnant with what she called her "miracle baby". We now know that she was dying while at the same time giving life. A flower in its last act of beauty, shedding its seed and giving life to a new flower.

It reminds me of something I read recently in a magazine. I think it was an interview with an actress. They got onto the subject of religion. The actress said that she had moved through several different religions in her life but what really floored her, was sitting on the couch with her daughter watching The Lion King. It was the Circle of Life scene. I don't usually take spiritual advice from moviestars or cartoons, but I think she is on to something. I look at Emily and Anna and I know they are the best and most meaningful thing I have ever done. If I died tomorrow, they would still be here. And I would still be here - in Anna's eyes, in Emily's toes, in their silliness, in a bunch of other ways, both good and bad (hopefully more good than bad).

I'm sure that as Kylie grows, she will discover her mother in her. She'll find she is strong, courageous, that she is optimistic, that she can find things to make herself smile even when times are tough. I'm sure that Heather's family will find her again as well, as they watch Kylie grow. A beautiful flower that reminds them so much of the one that came before.

I wish all the best for Kylie and Jim and the rest of Heather's family. I'm very sad she is gone, and I ache at the thought of the people who love her and miss her. She was an amazing person.

And while I am very saddened by Heather's death, at the same time, I won't lie. Heather's death scares me. I keep saying optimistically that the prognosis for Hodgkins Disease is very good. But very good is a relative term. In the cancer world 85% is a good number. But if there was a 15% chance you would were going to be hit by a car today, you'd be pretty nervous going outside. Heather's death reminds me of all of this. It shows me one possible future for me, and that scares me.

But right now I'll take inspiration from Heather again and I will find my optimism. I know I am going to beat this thing. And in the meantime I am going to take joy in what I have.

When I found out I had cancer, someone told Mathilde about a Lou Reed song, where he sings, "Life is good. But it's not fair".

Life is good. But it's not fair.

But it's good.

Radiation 7.0

I had radiation at 9 this morning then had to go back at 11 to meet with an oncologist. The meeting went fine, but I didn't really get any new information. I wanted to be able to look at some scanning images and see specifically what vital organs are being hit by radiation, and how much of them are being hit. Unfortunately, she didn't have those images with her, and couldn't get them up on her computer. She did call another doctor who works down in the radiation department. He is going to meet with me in a few days to go over the treatment plan in more detail.

The results from the heart test were back, and they showed that my heart is normal and healthy - which is good. We'll just hope that radiation doesn't fuck that up too much.

She did say something that concerned me a bit. She just nonchalantly mentioned that I was meeting an oncologist so often (once a week) because such a large area was getting radiated. I didn't realize that meeting the oncologist once a week wasn't just standard protocol. I guess the concern is that I may have more side effects than usual. So far, I have none.

But all said and done, I wish she considered the area that was getting radiated to be a small or normal. Bigger is not always better.

Aiden

My nephew, Aiden (Scott and Lauren's son) is about the coolest little boy ever. To give you and idea of what I mean by cool, this is the kind of outfit he wears to school.


Now, I know there are probably a lot of kids who insist on wearing a sport coat and tie to school, but how many of them would think to accessorize with a pair of red swim goggles? Lauren said he wore this particular get-up for a week straight.

I video-chatted with Aiden last week, right before he was about to head to school. On that particular day, he was wearing the same sport coat and McLean plaid tie, but this time he had accessorized with a vest, suspenders, and (of course) a pair of race car red pants.

A few months ago Aiden and his family were going to Mexico. Aiden likes superheroes, so I asked him if he had heard about Zoro. He hadn't. I told him all about Zoro, sent a few pictures so he would recognize him, and told him he should look for Zoro while he was in Mexico. I tried to excite him a bit by telling him that as soon as Zoro saw him, he would probably want Aiden to be his sidekick. Aiden laughed the kind of laugh that says, "Ahh soooo cool!"

So, when they returned from Mexico, I sent Aiden an email asking if he had found Zoro. Lauren wrote back that Aiden wanted her to tell me that he didn't really feel like being just somebody's sidekick, so he decided not to look for Zoro.

The kid totally cracks me up. (And of course he was right - Aiden is nobody's sidekick!)

Anyway, I just got a very funny email from Lauren. Today was "share day" at Aiden's school, and this is what Lauren wrote:

He decided he wanted to take some lincoln logs to show everyone. Little did I know that he still knew you'd given them to him. This is what he said:

"These build houses, and I'll show you all and then you can do them. I got them for Christmas from my dad's brother brian, you know, who's trying to finish up some chemo stuff. I mean Kevin. He's almost done with chemo, but he still doesn't have very much hair. But more than my daddy (laughs to himself). But I know he's almost done because his head is bigger than it used to be."

4.9% bigger to be exact!

Congratulations Pernille and Benjamin

Yesterday evening Pernille gave birth to a very healthy and very beautiful little girl. We found out around 6:00 pm and for the next two and a half hours (until bedtime) Emily and Anna repeated about every 10 minutes, "When can we see the baby? Why can't we see the baby now? When can we see the baby? I wanna see the baby now"

This evening we drove out to see the baby and her proud family. It's funny, Emily became very gentle and serene around the baby while Anna acted a bit a like a dog that is thrilled you've arrived. (That's not quite true, Anna was actually very good at holding the baby too :-)

Below is a picture of Emily, Anna, their cousin Luna (the new big sister) and the new baby (who is, as of yet, unnamed).


I pointed out to Benjamin that his daughter will be able to say she was born 8 days before The Son of iPhone. I think that made him happy.

Radiation 6.0

Radiation went fine again. I met with the doctor, and he said the head expansion was a normal side effect and that I should expect to "balloon" up to around 7% normal size. It has something to do with water retention. Only time will tell if it is permanent. He also said that super-powers with the fly unzipped thing is probably a myth, but that I was welcome to keep trying as long as no one complained.

Just kidding. I messed up when reading my schedule yesterday. The meeting with the doctor isn't until tomorrow. Radiation did go fine though.

Radiation 5.0

Fino bambino.

Tomorrow I'll have my weekly check up with the oncologist. Not sure what that entails but I'll let you know tomorrow.

And hey! I'm 1/4 of the way done with radiation. That was fast.

Not quite 10%

Rod did some fancy Photoshop calculations on the unchemo 2.0 picture and determined that my head is actually only 4.9% bigger than it was 2 weeks ago. That's a relief. However, he did point out that the majority of expansion has taken place in my chin. Weird.

He was kind enough to adjust things so you can see how I would look now if my head had NOT expanded.

How to make a viral video

I watched this while eating lunch - it made me choke on my sandwich.

Warning! The last scene is perhaps a little gross. So if you don't like gore, you might want to stop watching after the cousin whispers in Ben Stillers ear (tomorrow we'll be taking a poll to find out how many of you ignored this warning. (Any bets on what Mom does?))