October, 29 2010 - Light the Night

It is amazing how fast our lives can change. Just when you think you have everything figured out, something new happens to make you start all over again. My something new happened in February of 2009. I had gone in for my annual physical and less than 24 hours later I was told to rush to the hospital because my kidneys were in failure and I was at high risk of a heart attack. Little did I know it at the time, but this would just be the beginning of an eye opening journey. Within days, I would find out that I had Multiple Myeloma.

Because of the success of the stem cell transplant that I received last summer, I live my life now not worrying about how much time I have left, which is the first thing that most cancer patients think. Yet, I know that I am not cured and that it will almost certainly reappear. There is a great deal of experimentation being done with Multiple Myeloma as many work to find a cure. Ten years ago there were no treatments proven effective against MM and today with the benefit of research and fundraising there are many options showing very good success and many more in clinical trials showing promise.

To help in that fight, Julia and I are again forming a team for Light the Night Walk and I hope you'll join us. Light The Night Walk is the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's evening walk and fundraising event. It is a night to pay tribute and bring hope to thousands of people battling blood cancers and to commemorate loved ones lost.

By joining our team and raising funds for this important cause, you'll be making a real impact on the fight against cancer. On Walk night, you'll join us with other teams and individuals from all over the country in the culmination of our efforts to find cures. Walk night is a family-oriented evening in which participants carry illuminated balloons, raise awareness of blood cancers and come together as a caring community.

Last year is was a struggle for me to complete this walk. It was nearly 100 degrees and I had been very limited in what I could do in the months after the transplant. I didn’t know if I could make it, but I sure was going to give it my best. The first mile was slightly up hill and I began to worry that I would not be able to complete the journey, but the boys were at my side and they were determined that the three of us would make it together. Either their challenge or a little help from the Man upstairs gave me a second wind and I made it to the finish line. Hopefully this year should be a bit easier.

We all know someone who has been affected by cancer. Please join the team by either participating in the walk itself Saturday, November 13th or pledging a donation at the site listed below. I know many reading this will not be able to join us in person, but please at least join us in spirit. The help that you can bring cannot be measured in the number of dollars that you donate, but in the hope that you help create. Hope is what keeps us going. Please help turn that hope into reality.

To pledge a donation and/or join in the walk visit:
http://pages.lightthenight.org/dm/Phoenix10/TeamOutlaws

Thank you.

October 22, 2010 Weathering the Storm

Last week, Julia and I enjoyed our first week of solitary vacation in about five years. We used to make it an annual necessity but due to everything from financial to health issues, we limited ourselves to family vacations. Don’t get me wrong, I love vacationing with the family, but sometimes you just need some alone couple time.

We managed to survive Mexico without being kidnapped or killed. All of the fears that everyone seems to have about Mexico never seemed to show themselves. We had a wonderful week of eating, drinking and relaxing. It is amazing what not worrying about everything in the world can do for you.

However, we did have one little hiccup. It seems that Hurricane Paula decided to introduce herself to us. Seems we take one week out of the last 250 to vacation together and we get an unwanted guest showing up. Luckily for us, Paula didn’t want to see us anymore than we wanted to see her and she took a right turn toward Cuba at just the right time. We saw some rain over several days, but certainly nothing that we couldn’t navigate through.

We did get to witness the resort ready itself for the worst. Having had some major damage in the past, they were prepared for anything. For a while we felt like we were on the Titanic with the string quartet playing in the background. They kept everything open and acted like nothing was happening other than they were protecting everything in sight.

Our entire building was covered by a hundred or so nets. All entrances and balconies were sealed off. All outside chandeliers were disassembled and put in storage. The restaurant that we were eating in was covering up all fans with huge baggies. This was all taking place while the Salsa band was playing and singing in the background. If we were going to get hit they were going to be ready and we were going to be entertained.

We had to go through all of the paces, but in the end it really didn’t cause any harm. We were safe and so was Playa Del Carmen and the surrounding beaches. We somehow weathered the storm.

I bring all of this up because a good friend of mine just found out that he has his own storm to weather. Not sure if you remember, but soon after all of my ordeal started, I mentioned Paul Nardini. Paul and I had become friends about 15 years ago because of our mutual love of the Dayton Flyers. We had gotten close enough that he referred to himself as my older brother. We have shared the ups and downs of the Flyers over the years always finding comfort in the knowledge that we would survive it together and there would be another season to comfort us in the future.

I received a call from Paul a couple weeks ago and he started the conversation stating that we seemed to be taking the little brother/big brother a step further. Paul had received a suspicious result in a recent blood test and his doctor suggested that it might be Multiple Myeloma. Paul seemed to have some of the same readings that I had had but it just didn’t seem to have the same indicators that I had experienced.

Once again, I demonstrated that I had not yet received my medical degree as it was confirmed a week later that Paul, indeed, was suffering from Multiple Myeloma. This week he started his first round of chemotherapy and is on track to have a stem cell transplant early next year. He remains in good spirits, but I have a good idea of what he is going through. You never like to hear cancer and you name mentioned in the same sentence.

When I found out that I had cancer, I wanted to scream to the heavens, “Why me?” God, of course, doesn’t seem to have any answers for you at the time, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t have some in the future. As humans, we always try to get something good out of any situation no mater how bleak. I felt that there had to be some silver lining to the storm cloud that was passing overhead.

I think that I may now be starting to understand where that silver lining in coming into play. Paul is now the second friend that has contracted this disease since I was diagnosed. I’m sure you remember Matt Hare and his courageous fight against MM. Since he started his fight, Matt has help collect over $50,000 in the fight to find a cure.

During his early struggles, Matt and I talked and emailed a lot. Not sure if I was any help, but hopefully I helped give him some small measure of hope that there is life after MM. My hope is that I can now do the same for Paul. Not sure if God had this in mind, but I feel that I can bring some comfort to others that must wander through this obstacle course.

Hopefully, the rest of my friends steer clear of this cancer challenge, but they at least all know that I will be there to help them weather this storm.

October 5, 2010 To Sleep or not to Sleep

Growing up, my bedroom was just down the hall from my parents’.  It wasn’t the most exciting room in the house, but it was all mine.  It was neat and fairly simple.  Never had anything on the walls, hard wood floors without a rug  and two windows.  I had my stereo on my dresser and my albums sitting on my chest of drawers.  (For those of you that have no idea what a stereo is, it is prehistoric version of the Ipod with speakers built in. ) The room was completed by a twin single bed that had a matching unit in the guest bedroom right next to mine.

The thing I remember about that room more than anything was not anything in it but a sound that would drift into it every night.  My father was a heavy sleeper and an equally heavy snorer (if that is a word.) His snores would make my windows shake. You could hear him on the other side of the house. In the end, it drove my mother to sleep on the couch in the family room. Yet, despite all of that, I found it a comforting sound. 

My father had a bad heart.  He had rheumatic fever when he was in his twenties and was told he would likely not see 40. Luckily he did, because that was when I was born.  He somehow managed to live for 50 years after they told him he had a little over 10, at best.  But even as a young boy, I knew that he had heart problems. I always knew that he might not wake up in the morning. There were times where in the middle of the day, he would just lay on the bed motionless waiting for the pain to stop. When I would wake up in the middle of the night I could always rest easy because I knew he was still alive as the rumble rolled from beneath his door. 

This was great for me but not so much for my mother.  My dad could sleep through a train wreck. My mother could wake up if the train wreck happened in Cincinnati.  She lived on three hours of sleep every night.  She would wake up at 2 AM and start cleaning the house, or she would sew for hours. I would know because the Singer was on the other side of the wall where my head would rest. 

I find myself in the middle of these two extremes, but more closely aligned with my Mother.  It is not unusual for me to be roaming the house at three in the morning. I have done some of my best work on this blog long before the sun rises. 

Some would find this a blessing, the ability to survive on four to six hours of sleep a night. I’m not so sure I do.  It is during these extra hours, the hours laying in bed trying to get back to sleep that my mind performs some of its less that exemplary work.  It is during those hours that I somehow find myself thinking about my plight in life. 

As good as I feel and as normal as I can live my life, in the deep recesses of my mind, I cannot forget that I have a disease that has no cure.  It is during these idle hours that my brain cannot turn off.  When you have that much extra time, you think about everything under the sun.  As I tell Justin when he rolls in a little later than preferred, little good happens at 3 AM. 

I have tried everything imaginable to beat this sleeping curse.  I’ve read, watched TV, listened to music and nothing works.  I hate to actually get out of bed because that almost certainly assures elongated alertness.  I have tried three different sleeping medications, none of which were worth the co-pay.  I have finally given up on medication and just concentrated on relaxation and keeping my mind as blank as possible.  (Some of you may feel that that should not be too difficult since there isn’t a whole lot going on up there most of the time.) Maybe one day I will just resign myself to the fact that this is a blessing and not a curse.  If you ever see me working on my landscaping in the middle of the night, you will now know why. 

I bring all of this up because there are times I miss that snoring.  Today marks the 20^th anniversary of my Father’s death.  This year also marks the 35^th anniversary of my Mother’s death.  Until this year, I would always take the day off from work on one of their five year anniversaries to visit their graves and have a word or two with them about my life.  Odd that this is the year that I probably have more to say than ever and I won’t be able to make the trip. 

I guess I’ll just have to have our little talk in the quiet of the night when I am having trouble getting back to sleep. As I mentioned earlier, it is often the time that I do my best work.

October 2, 2010--Friday Night Lights

There is nothing like high school football. Certainly, there is better football to be watched on college campuses and in NFL stadiums, but there is nothing like the feeling of excitement that can come from representing your school or in some cases, your entire community.

In small towns all over America, they gear their entire week around the high school football game. It is an opportunity for one small town to battle another, an opportunity for their small town to feel pride in what and who they are. It is the small towns that don’t need the large eye of a television camera to make things exciting. Football in the small town hasn’t changed in decades.

But high school football has come a long way since I graduated in 1971. I would not miss a game while I was in school. Before I could drive, my dad would pile 3 or 4 of my friends into the car and take us to wherever the game was. Unlike today when half of the students attending are just there to hang out with friends, we were there to be part of it. We were there to be heard and when we lost we felt almost as bad as those on the field.

Now, there are national polls and national champions. When we drove the 45 miles to play a team in Indiana, it was big time, now teams fly all over the country to play the best. ESPN has become a huge supporter of high school football as they look to fill up their various channels with live sports. There are games on national networks every week now and they have helped create even more interest in a game that participants relive over and over when they get together decades later.

When ESPN comes to town, the spotlight becomes even greater. Earlier this year, a number of teams from Central Ohio were featured on ESPNU which included one of the young men that I coached in baseball when he was eight years old. If someone would have told me that two of the players from that team would be playing football on national television just nine years later, I would have laughed. But both Marcus Davis who has turned into a promising receiver much like his Uncle Chris Carter of Ohio State and Vikings fame and my own, Jason, who has no such, lineage have made it to ESPN.

Friday night I got to experience the excitement that ESPN can bring to a sporting event. Local TV started coverage of the game at seven in the morning by covering the pep rally at Hamilton and talking to one of the top players in the country at Chandler. Julia and I thought it would be wise to get there early as all Hamilton tickets were sold out before noon. When we got there 90 minutes before the game, we found that the entire stands on the Chandler side were completely full with cheers rolling from one end to the other.

It was to be a black out for Hamilton and we did not disappoint. Students were painted from head to toe in black body paint. Girls were in short shorts and black sports bras with designs and messages painted everywhere that there was exposed skin. Guys didn’t even bother to wear shirts as the 100+ degree temperature just invited body paint instead of shirts. It was indeed black.

There was electricity in the air as the ESPN provided extra lights made the field look more like it was high noon than the dark of night. Extra stands were brought in and firefighters were sitting on top of their fire truck just outside the field. Students and adults were four deep ringing the field as there were no seats to be found. The steps to the top of the stands became jammed with others seeking a place to sit. A 10,000 seat stadium had found a way to host 13,000.

The game started out as two heavy weights throwing punch after counter punch. Chandler lead by scores of 7-0 and 14-7. The home stands were erupting as they felt that this would be the year to beat Hamilton after 13 consecutive losses. The stands would erupt at any sign of positive play. Yet, despite that, you just knew that Steve Belles, the Hamilton coach with at 59-3 record would find something to change the course of the evening. Then it happened, Hamilton would score the next 31 points and the Chandler stands began to empty with the same sickening feeling that have had 13 other times. Despite the hard work and the ESPN buildup, it was just another loss to their cross town rival, other “wait until next time.”

On the home front, it was a great night for a game after a great day to go to the doctor. The blood tests continue to look good and my doctor could not be happier. The cancer continues to decline. It is not gone, but it seems to be losing the battle and I didn’t even need a black out or ESPN to show up.