It's getting late and I need to be up at 4:30 or so to drive to Meadville, but I just had to tell you about this evening:
This weekend is the "Old Fashioned Christmas in West Chester" celebration, and I performed this evening at the local YMCA as part of the event. This is a new venue for me, but I've performed for the OFC for the last 8 or 10 years. There's no financial compensation, but it's a wonderful opportunity to particpate in the joys of the season and of living in a lovely small town like West Chester. I would gladly pay for the pleasure of doing this gig, but please don't tell that to the West Chester Chamber of Commerce...
This OFC gig was the first juggling performance I ever did 'way back then. And for the first time since then, I was paired this evening with Jody -- a very polished and professional local folksinger who was an enormous help in getting me through the "first performance jitters." So she and I had a chance to catch up with each other and reminisce and chat about stuff, like the fact that our hair has changed colors since 'way back then...
Attending this evening's performance were:
-- Ron and Pam, two very dear people whom I haven't seen in several years. I think they drove back to West Chester from a considerable distance specifically to watch me perform.
-- Jimmy and his family. Jimmy hasn't been at the Turks Head Jugglers practice sessions for several years, but he tells me he's keeping up with his juggling. He's taller by half a foot at least since I saw him last, and his voice has dropped at least half an octave. And, hard as it is for me to believe, he's even handsomer now than he was back then.
-- Matt and Melinda and their three kids. Matt is the Head of the West Chester Friends School, which is where our juggling group meets for practice. Matt has been tremendously supportive of the Turks Heads, but I'm not sure he's ever had a chance to see me perform. So that felt really good -- to see him in the audience.
-- Dot and Serita, two Quaker friends we hadn't seen in a long time.
-- Keira and Lily, two very talented young jugglers who have been too caught up in other activities to join us at the gym for our practice sessions for the last year or so. I told them I was going to try to schedule another Saturday unicycle session before the weather closes in, and they both got very excited. Very cool.
All of the above people stayed after the performance to talk to Deb and me. And it felt so very good to be surrounded by all this warmth and caring. And people that I haven't seen recently -- and could never see too much of.
Jimmy's mom was kind enough to ask how my health was, which gave me the opportunity to tell folks how well things are going. (See previous posting: "Green Lights.")
Oh, and here's the punch line: today is my birthday.
Can't do much better than this for birthday gifts!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Green Lights
Well, I've just seen three members of my Medical Team over the last three days:
-- My E/N/T guy on Wednesday
-- My chemo doc on Thursday
-- My neurologist on Friday
and all three of them have the same message for me: Although we will monitor your situation for months or years, there continues to be no evidence of cancer in your head/neck area. And it's quite possible that your salivary duct cancer is something to be seen only in the rear-view mirror.
And I will be getting a scan of one sort or another in the next couple of weeks to check on the possibility that the cancer has metasticized and spread. But there's certainly no sign of that having happened.
It's not completely "clear sailing," however. My E/N/T doc (who has a wonderful sense of humor, even though he's Canadian) thinks I'm being obsessive/compulsive about staying hydrated and keeping my teeth clean -- thereby giving me something new to obsess about. (I told him that I was concerned about a small bump on my chin, and he told me "Aw, you've like an old dog -- lumps and bumps everywhere. You're fine!") My chemo doc says I should stay on the Coumadin blood thinner for another couple of weeks, and continue to use the compression stockings. And the neurologist says I have minor nerve damage -- probably from the Cisplatin chemotherapy -- in my right leg and arms (resulting in some numbness and tingling), although this may heal and in any case, shouldn't get any worse.
But compared to where I might have been at this point in my health, things are splendidly good.
And I thought you'd like to know that.
-- My E/N/T guy on Wednesday
-- My chemo doc on Thursday
-- My neurologist on Friday
and all three of them have the same message for me: Although we will monitor your situation for months or years, there continues to be no evidence of cancer in your head/neck area. And it's quite possible that your salivary duct cancer is something to be seen only in the rear-view mirror.
And I will be getting a scan of one sort or another in the next couple of weeks to check on the possibility that the cancer has metasticized and spread. But there's certainly no sign of that having happened.
It's not completely "clear sailing," however. My E/N/T doc (who has a wonderful sense of humor, even though he's Canadian) thinks I'm being obsessive/compulsive about staying hydrated and keeping my teeth clean -- thereby giving me something new to obsess about. (I told him that I was concerned about a small bump on my chin, and he told me "Aw, you've like an old dog -- lumps and bumps everywhere. You're fine!") My chemo doc says I should stay on the Coumadin blood thinner for another couple of weeks, and continue to use the compression stockings. And the neurologist says I have minor nerve damage -- probably from the Cisplatin chemotherapy -- in my right leg and arms (resulting in some numbness and tingling), although this may heal and in any case, shouldn't get any worse.
But compared to where I might have been at this point in my health, things are splendidly good.
And I thought you'd like to know that.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Blood Clot? What Blood Clot?
Well, it's almost that good!
I had a sonogram on my right leg yesterday. The technician was very meticulous -- moving the probe back and forth, stopping often, going back over territory she had already examined. And I figured that this was not good news -- that she was finding all sorts of interesting stuff that she wanted to image thoroughly.
Boy, was I wrong. If anything, she was probably looking to find anything interesting and abnormal to image.
My experience with sonograms has been that, after the probe session is over, the technician conducting the probe won't comment on what he/she has seen, saying something along the lines of "The results are for the doctor to determine and explain to you." But this young lady felt quite comfortable in voluneteering "The blood clot is almost completely cleared. And it looks much better than your last scan. So it's quite likely that it will continue to dissolve and then just disappear."
Wow.
She also said that my body had been producing new veins to bypass the area that had been blocked by the clot. I was truly amazed and delighted: anything that my 62-year-old body does that's new and helpful is something to be celebrated.
So, final word on this may come on Thursday, when I see my doc responsible for treating the clot. And he may tell me to stop taking the blood thinner (Coumadin) and ditch the compression stockings. While only a minor nuisance compared to the other stuff I've had to do over the last six months, it would certainly be a relief to hear him say that these two clot treatment procedures are officially done with.
I will let you know in a couple of days how it goes.
Hoping that your holiday season is going well -- and that you truly have much to be thankful for.
I know I do.
I had a sonogram on my right leg yesterday. The technician was very meticulous -- moving the probe back and forth, stopping often, going back over territory she had already examined. And I figured that this was not good news -- that she was finding all sorts of interesting stuff that she wanted to image thoroughly.
Boy, was I wrong. If anything, she was probably looking to find anything interesting and abnormal to image.
My experience with sonograms has been that, after the probe session is over, the technician conducting the probe won't comment on what he/she has seen, saying something along the lines of "The results are for the doctor to determine and explain to you." But this young lady felt quite comfortable in voluneteering "The blood clot is almost completely cleared. And it looks much better than your last scan. So it's quite likely that it will continue to dissolve and then just disappear."
Wow.
She also said that my body had been producing new veins to bypass the area that had been blocked by the clot. I was truly amazed and delighted: anything that my 62-year-old body does that's new and helpful is something to be celebrated.
So, final word on this may come on Thursday, when I see my doc responsible for treating the clot. And he may tell me to stop taking the blood thinner (Coumadin) and ditch the compression stockings. While only a minor nuisance compared to the other stuff I've had to do over the last six months, it would certainly be a relief to hear him say that these two clot treatment procedures are officially done with.
I will let you know in a couple of days how it goes.
Hoping that your holiday season is going well -- and that you truly have much to be thankful for.
I know I do.
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