Lung Cancer - it's breathtaking...

What is your life but a vapor?

Book of James – KJV

“Do you want the good news or bad news first?

“The good news,” I said

“The good news is that you don’t have any emboli in your left lung. The bad news is that you have a couple of tumors. It also appears you have viral bronchitis, which we can treat with prednisone.”

The back story…

In late September, I took my bike and headed for PineTop, a small town on the edge of the Apache Native American reservation in the White Mountains of Arizona. My friend Clayton has a place there, and it was the perfect spot to go from triple-digit temperatures in Tucson to comfortable double digits. 

Riding at altitude (7,000 ft – 2134 m) was a little more strenuous than at the 2,800 ft (853 m) where I live. But drinking lots of water and sightseeing on two wheels amongst the towering pine trees made the riding wonderful. It was a great few days.

While there, I developed a sharp, constant pain above my left shoulder blade that felt like a pulled muscle. After I got home, the pain seemed to migrate forward and settle between my shoulder blade and chest. I continued to exercise, with no change in pain intensity.

Weirdly, I also began to lose my voice and had a dry cough. Finally, consulting a doctor, it was suggested that I should have a CAT scan. I told her I wasn’t sure our house cats would stand for it…I thought it was funny, she, not so much. 

The concern was that I might have a small embolism (a piece of a blood clot) in the upper lobe of my left lung. Apparently, these sorts of things can occur sometimes in older people.

The scan…

I headed to the Veteran’s Hospital Emergency Room for a CAT scan and waited for the results. When they came in, it was not what I expected…it was not good.

The point here is that there was a high probability I had lung cancer. Within a few days, Molly and I sat with an oncologist from the University of Arizona Cancer Center. Suddenly, things became surreal. I mean, how? I had never smoked and have had so little alcohol; I'm considered a non-drinker. I’m a regular exerciser, a good sleeper, and watch my diet pretty carefully…you know, the health stuff. Other than the shoulder pain (resolved by now), I had no symptoms at rest or during exercise.

After reporting this to the oncologist, she explained that there is nearly a 10% rate of ‘never smoker’ lung cancer. That was not too comforting.

Needle in the lung…

The next step was to do a biopsy of the tumor. It would take a couple of weeks to schedule it and another week to get the pathology back. Honestly, the sun was not shining too brightly in the western skies. 

The waiting gave me time to think. I have prepared myself for an unexpected chronic disease that might bring my exit sooner than my family’s gene pool suggests. If this was the hand I had been dealt, it would be pain drugs and palliative care, but no chemotherapy. I didn't want to painfully prolong something that could significantly affect my quality of life. 

That plan had a brief life (no pun intended) when I talked this over with the family. I got the '…you know this isn't just about you…’ tongue lashing. There are people who love you, and you need to fight this for them…' I had not considered that…you know, others and the love part.

What could be next?

I have spent a lifetime going through doors when I had no idea what was behind them…the willingness to do this has given me the most amazing of journeys. This looked like it might be the last one, and I felt prepared for it. Because of my faith, I was, in some ways, looking forward to the transition. The truth is that I was pretty Zen about the whole thing. While there was some anxiety, I deeply believe that this life is just a part of the journey. I have no regrets.

The playground extended its hours…

Tuesday late afternoon after the biopsy on the preceding Thursday, I got a call from my primary care physician’s nurse. 

“The path report came in. It isn’t cancer, it’s Valley Fever (Coccidioidomycosis). The tumors are fair-sized nodules in your left lung, but there is no cancer."

It is hard to express the feelings at the news. I had built a mental narrative for three weeks or so in preparation for the '…what's next…', and it took a day or two for me to deconstruct it…to believe this would not be the endgame.

Valley Fever? What the heck?

Most of you reading this have probably never heard of Valley Fever. This is because it occurs in only a few places in the United States, one of which is in the Sonoran Desert in Tucson. 

It is a fungus that lives a few inches underground in the desert floor. It becomes airborne when the soil is stirred up (like construction sites). When breathed in, it nestles into the tiny air sacs of the lungs. Almost everyone that lives out here gets Valley Fever. Most symptoms are mild, and the immune system manages them. For others, like me, the immune system gets a little overwhelmed. The spores mature and, like dandelion seeds, float and coalesce into nodules like those in my lungs. Sometimes, the spores can even lead to diffuse places outside the lungs.

Valley Fever is a great mimicker of other diseases. Suppose for example, it is picked up here and carried to another part of the country. It might appear as arthritis, chronic headache, back pain, cold or flu, or bone pain. While there is no vaccine for it, treatment is usually in the form of an oral antifungal medication when necessary. It is important for people who have been here and return to their homes with the above symptoms, ask for a Valley Fever blood test.

A little more to do…

More testing will be needed in the next few weeks to make sure the fungus has not become systemic. 

At the moment, I have no symptoms that keep me from exercising and living a normal, everyday life. Once the next testing battery is complete, a decision will be made as to what, if any, treatment will be necessary.

The great news? It's Valley Fever is NOT cancer!

- ted

Tommy Boy - part 2

"Spend time in your life building a home  

in your heart. A house has no character..."

- Anonymous

After telling her little boy the story of how Hannah had given her son to the old priest Eli to raise, and after she let him know he too was a gift from God, she began a story about babies when they were born.

The old fellow had not heard this story, at least he couldn’t remember that he had. So, he settled in to watch and listen as his mother spoke to her child.

*

Tommy, arrived on the planet, I suppose, like most little boys do, having no idea what had just happened! If he had been able to say anything, he would have said he was exhausted and hurt all over.

Adding to this, and for no apparent reason, it was bright and cold…real cold. And it was noisy. He didn’t know why. He actually didn’t know anything. All he had sensed before this, and it wasn't much, was comfort, quiet, warmth, and plenty to eat. Something was terribly wrong!

Oh yeah, and he was hungry. He couldn’t say he was hungry; he couldn't say anything but somehow just knew, or better said, felt an aching feeling that was brand spanking new. In fact, there was a literal spank that took his breath away—again better said, gave him breath because that was new, too; he gasped. What!? How did that happen? 

He had no idea this was the first inspiration of his life. It just happened…the BIG BREATH I mean. And that’s how the whole thing started. You could imagine, if even you could remember or imagine what a weird, astonishing thing that first breath was.

A small piece of good news, he felt a sudden warmth. It wasn’t exactly what he had known, but it felt much better than when this thing first started. He didn’t know at the time it was his mother’s skin, who by the way was also exhausted.

All of this was too much! He needed to get home, but that might have to wait because he was on overload and, at the moment, really hungry.

There were other things. Tommy was wiggling around. He didn’t know how...he just was. Like before he got here, he could hardly wiggle at all. After that big breath, he took others in and out and made the oddest sounds. He would have to learn to get used to this.

He didn’t know he had eyes or ears or feely things on his body. Shoot, he didn’t know he had a body with arms and legs and fingers and toes. He only knew (felt) he was somewhere strange and at the moment very uncomfortable. Did I mention he was hungry?

That’s when, on that warm skin, he found a place to eat. It was his mother’s breast. At least he wasn’t really cold, and found he wasn’t as hungry.

He didn't know it then, and despite his desire to return to the 'no care world' he had just left, it would be a long time before he understood this confusing place into which he found himself was actually meant to help him return home. Yes, for him, dare I say, for all of us, it would be a very long time.

Time, hmm…

For Tommy, of course, there was no time, there was no space. So, for the sake of the reader, as the very early days passed, there were new things just about everywhere he turned, or wiggled, as it were.

You see, like all new arrivals, he didn't have many items in his bag of tools. He didn’t even know he had a kit…but he did and inside there were two things: faith and curiosity. Like the breathing and wiggling, they were a part of the package. 

Tool 1: Faith… 

Faith is the thing that we come with that is of kind of like glue. It builds a body of belief…it helps us hold on to consistent ideas and experiences. Of course, Tommy didn’t know about any of that, he was just trying to get by. 

For him, after he began to warm up a little, the first thing he believed in was the nipple. At the start, he needed a little help, but man, was he glad he found that thing. It was pretty strange, but most of the time, when he had that achy feeling, the nipple showed up. It had stuff in it that made him feel better and he latched on to it as if his life depended on it. And of course, it did. 

Even stranger, Tommy learned to tell when that thing was coming before it even showed up. He would get a feeling it would be there. And you know what? It almost always was. The ‘glue’ was on automatic pilot and doing its job.

As it turns out, he would learn that handy feeder was his mom. And even more unbelievable that he was deposited on the planet from her. Course, like all these other things happening to him, he would know that later.

Tool 2: Curiosity

The reason this item comes along with faith in the tool kit is that they work together as a team…like peanut butter and honey (this writer’s favorite). Sometimes faith starts a deal and curiosity adds to it, and sometimes curiosity gets the ball rolling and faith just jumps in to make sure it builds stronger belief. Curiosity might whisper an idea…a small one, ‘cause Tommy was still figuring things out. Then Tommy would check it out…building a little room inside his mind to help him along.

The boy couldn’t feel it yet, but he was beginning to get the impression that survival in this place meant doing and learning new things. The best part was that he was having fun most of the time. 

Well, there was that warm and cold stuff that showed up between his mouth and those feet things. It wasn't too much fun. It seemed to appear a lot, and even though he wasn’t crazy about it, he got used to it. The first few times it was weird ‘cause he’d get turned upside down, rubbed a little and then things would go back to normal.

Soon by using those first two items in his kit, he learned he was ready to look around a little more. 

“And, that my dearest young man," the little boy's mother said."This is what happens when babies are born." My mother knew it was enough for the time being. 

*

The scene with the old fellow’s mother and her five-year-old son slipped away, and it was just two of them. 

“Thanks, Mum," the old man said. "this was so good.”

She put her arms around him, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “That’s what it was like when Tommy…you, arrived in our lives.” 

And with that, she was gone and the old fellow found himself alone. 

Without getting into all the details, it wasn't until these later years he understood it was the power of faith and curiosity that led to the most extraordinary of lives. 

*

That evening, as he sat watching the western face of the mountains light up with reflected sunlight, he looked back on the day. The visit from his mother and the memories of his youth stirred a deep appreciation for his journey. By now, the sun was getting ready to set. Like sunrise in the mornings, it wasn’t really setting, the earth was just rolling away from it.

And so it was with the old fellow’s life. It had begun with muted and unclear colors, that took on a vibrancy of the day’s light. Now, like the earth at sunset, life as he knew it was rolling away. But before it slipped beyond the horizon, the beauty of the sky and his life, reminded him of all that had been given. It was now he knew as he had so much desired when he first arrived…

The old fellow finally understood, after all this time...

He was on his way home.

- ted

Tommy Boy - part 1...

“Every new day is a renewal. The opportunity to 

write a few fresh words in the chapter of life…”

- Anonymous

The old fellow was watching for the sun in the early morning. The dawn was just beginning, the hummingbirds had arrived and the plants that surrounded him were beginning to take on a slight but muted color. 

He knew the sun didn’t rise— the earth actually rolled into it. He used to say that, but it seemed to confuse some folks, so he would nod his head, smile, and just say “yup” when they asked if he had seen the beautiful sunrise that morning.

This day, as was his custom, he was in his ‘morning read,’ touched by some inspirational writings, drinking a cup of coffee, talking to the trees (they share 50% DNA with us, you know), and whispering gentle prayers of gratitude for the life he had led.

While riding the blue ball and waiting for the emergence of the sun, his mother showed up. As happened to him from time to time, she appeared unannounced and uninvited. You see, the times he tried to bring her to mind, he only got brief glimpses. They were good, but when she slipped in like this, he knew she would stay as long as she felt like it.

Yep, riding the planet in the morning was one thing, but riding it with her…well, that was special.

*

It was harder for the old man to get around these days, but when he was sitting still in the mornings, he felt no different than when he was quietly sitting at any age. So here he was, comfortable, and waiting to see what the woman had in mind.

When his mother showed up like this, she was always middle-aged, vibrant, with the loving spirit he had always known.

“Come along,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I thought I would take you back a little. I want to remember a few things with you.”

In the blink of an eye, they were sitting together as they had as long as he could remember. This time he was five, and she was telling stories. 

On these occasions, she would sometimes break into song. Yep, that woman loved to sing…It was never loud and boisterous, but almost cheerfully prayerful. Kinda like the words and music were a part of her breath and her heart. It didn’t matter what they were…church songs, camp songs, songs of inspiration. There was an intimacy coming from deep inside her, personal like. She told him once she learned scriptures as a little girl by singing them…particularly, the Psalms of David.

This time, the story was of Samuel, a little boy from the Old Testament.

*

“In olden days,” she said, “there was a man who had two wives.”

 She told him where they were from, but it was a long name, and even now, the old man couldn’t remember it. 

“The man’s name was Elkana, and the wives were Pininnah and Hannah.”

“Wait a minute, Mummy,” her little boy said. “What do you mean he had two wives?” 

His mother always encouraged him to ask questions when he didn’t understand something. She would say, asking questions meant he was a good listener. She was also wise enough to know how much or little to give as an answer. Sometimes, she knew, a little would be enough for the moment. Later he would be ready for more. 

She also knew it was important to say when she wasn’t sure.

“Well, honey,” she replied with a smile and a pat on his head. “I don’t really know. It’s just what was in the story.”

“Okay, I was just wondering. Keep goin’,” 

She already had his attention, and not having a good answer didn’t bother him.

She continued the story and told him that Pininnah had lots of children, but Hannah didn’t seem like she could have any. Hannah had prayed and prayed, but it just didn’t happen.

“Then one time when Hannah was in the church, they called it a temple back then, she was praying really hard, and the head priest heard her. She was talking under her breath, and he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He thought maybe she had been drinking too much wine.”

When the priest stopped her, he let her know she couldn’t be in the temple after having had too much wine.

“No,” she said. “I have not been drinking, I have been praying to God for a real long time to ask if He would give me a child. I was just telling him that if would bless me with a son, I would return the boy back to God.”

Well sure enough, when she went home after all that praying, God answered her prayer, and nine months later a baby boy was born. She called him Samuel. 

“She took care of that boy, and somewhere between the ages of three and five, your age, Hannah took him back to Eli the priest. She reminded the old man of her promise and said she wanted to give the boy to Eli to teach him the ways of God. Eli did that, and Samuel became one of the great priests and prophets of God’s people.”

*

The little boy’s mother always had a lesson to share, after telling her boy stories. 

The old fellow knew what was coming but wanted to hear it again.

“There’s something I want to share with you,” she said to her little boy. 

The old man could also hardly wait for her to say the words.

“Honey,” she said. “You don’t belong to your father and me.”

There was a confused look on her youngster’s face.

“Wh..what do you mean?” he asked.

She took his hand and gently patted his face, and this is what she said.

“Your father and I prayed and prayed and prayed that God would give us a son. We promised Him, just like Hannah did, that if He gave us one, we would give the child back to Him. You see, your father and I loved each other so much, that I got pregnant. So, you came from your daddy and me, but your real Father is God. We are putting your life in His hands.”

The boy wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but the way she told it, didn’t make him afraid, it made him feel safe. 

After he had given this a little thought, he said.

“Mummy, tell me about babies when they are born?”

The old fellow and his mother smiled at one another and chuckled, remembering how glad she had been that day that the boy hadn’t asked, how babies were made.

“Well,” she said. Let me tell you about Tommy Boy.

To be continued…

-ted

Friendship - what would we do without it...

“Friendship is nothing else than an accord 

in all things human and divine, conjoined 

with mutual goodwill and affection…with 

the exception of wisdom, no better than this has

been given to men by the immortal gods…”

-     Cicero: De Amicitia 

(On Friendship)

 

Two old men sat on a bench in Federal Hill Park overlooking Baltimore Harbor. We hadn’t seen one another in a long time. 

 

It was a temperate sunny day. Gazing over the city skyline, we slipped into quiet conversation. We didn’t look at each other much…We didn’t need to. We were together, and that’s what mattered.

 

Barriers to entry…

Men often have difficulty expressing affection for one another. We couch our fondness with good-natured teasing and storytelling, probing for resonance. It’s not as though a flash of insight is required to make a friend, but rather it’s an unconscious organic process that emerges from the simple pleasure of one another’s company. If given a little thought, there is an undercurrent of gratitude. We are, after all, social creatures. It’s just that our gender is often uncomfortable expressing our feelings.

 

Dave and I had long since passed that stage in our lives. There was still the bantering, but by now, we had no trouble letting each other know how much we loved and appreciated one another. There was freedom in that, and we knew it.

 

Decades earlier…

It began when we were youngsters in the military during the Vietnam era, and we couldn’t have been more different - like peas and corn. At the start, we weren’t too keen about one another either. 

 

I was given to pontificating and as rudderless as a flat bottom boat. Dave was a no-nonsense fellow with an obvious internal fire. One might say he was an angry young man. In moments when expressing some sort of nonsense, he, with what might generously be called frank language, would suggest I was full of bovine excrement.

 

How we ever found a place with one another, is one of the great mysteries of the universe…but find it we did. Indeed, how any of us finds friends in the chaos of life, is beyond my understanding.

 

After the war, we lived together for the last year of military service. Somewhere in this time, and for reasons that are unclear, or at least in the telling, we adopted nicknames. I became Leonard, and he, the Indian. Labels in youth that remained to the day we sat on that March morning in Baltimore. Given names? What was the point?

 

That final year went quickly, after which we drifted into the slipstream of life, losing touch.

 

'Losing touch.' What a temporal expression.

 

Maybe we weren’t in regular contact with one another, but real friendships have little to do with ‘slipstreams,' time, gravity, tides, or shifting sands. They are about a touch of the heart. Once boys…now old men, the thread had never broken.

 

As youngsters, the future was waiting. Most of that future, by now, had become the past.

 

Back to the bench…

Overlooking the harbor that day, there was a little reminiscing about  Vietnam, but it was a small part of the conversation. The bulk of our time was spent sharing gratitude for the lives we had lived and our good fortune to still be breathing in our late seventies…breathing long enough to be sitting on that bench on that sunny day.

 

We committed to meeting again later in the year, and recently we did. It was, as it had been in Baltimore, like it had been almost from the beginning…two souls not reconnecting, but simply plugging back in as if no distance nor time passed.

 

There is safety in deep friendship. The relationships are sacred, intimate, and cleansing.

 

I tell my students they will become a product of the five people with whom they spend most of their time. I tell them to look for folks who uplift and edify them. I have been fortunate to have had a small number of long-term friends who fit that category.

 

I’ll bet you do too.

- ted