Radioactive

2013 - AVM Summer Recovery

Monday Update:

It is another beautiful day here in Spring Hill, Florida.  Kath and I played golf yesterday and it was 96 with much reduced humidity.  And a little breeze.  And only a few brave southerners on the course.

I have been recovering very nicely from my last two scalp operations.  The wounds are still covered by the silicone layer which covered the Integra, a pad designed to promote healing.  There continues to be less leaking each day, and apart from a still nasty appearance, we are progressing as well as expected.  So what does one do when one is on the mend?  One goes back for another scalp surgery on Tuesday.

I had a discussion with Dr. Harrington on Friday and he felt that the in situ melanoma on the margin of the last operation, needs immediate excision.  So I will drive to Moffitt tomorrow for a 12:30 pm  operation, which will be done under local anesthesia.  The doctor will take another significant chunk as we want to ensure eradication of the last portion of the melanoma.  And after that, hopefully some relief, and time for my poor head to heal properly.  I don't find this stuff amusing anymore.  

On The Stereo: You Can Call Me Al, Paul Simon
In My Blood stream:  Keppra (an anti-epileptic drug), antibiotics

                    Dinner on the patio at our Renaissance house with some of our (old?) neighbors.


On June 13th, we returned to Dr. Correnti's office for my second scheduled follow-up to the AVM surgery.  The meeting was unremarkable inasmuch as it was a typical post-surgery meeting.   I had completed another brain scan before seeing the doctor, and other than knowing those results, there appeared to be no striking changes since the first follow-up.  I had by then, regained a modicum of my previous strength and, other than my unresponsive left hand, my faculties were,  in my mind,  normalized.  The possibility of seizures had not materialized and, for my part, I just wanted to play golf and get back to a more vigorous exercise program.  I had been inactive for much too long.  Thankfully, we were told all was well.  I should continue with the anti-seizure drug, as I was not out of the woods yet, on that possibility, and begin to "get better".

So, I did what I have always done.  Moved on at warp speed.  Kath and I left for Oregon on June 17th,  and headed to Bandon Dunes to play golf with the Gnageys.  It was a rigorous few days as we walked two courses.  I did not walk with purpose and I took way too many swings.  We did, at least, have caddies, but the courses were both long and very hilly.  Especially so, considering that we came from Fort Myers, where we had no hills at all.  I was dragging my tail.

                          Our friends, the Gnageys, with the Pacific Ocean as a backdrop.

We then drove up the coast and stayed for one night at Cannon Beach, an absolutely beautiful place, typical of Pacific Northwest topography.  Stunning.  We stayed at Stephanie Inn, a terrific hotel.  We liked the name and we loved the accommodations.  We had our first chance to really calm down our lives and celebrate that we were together and we could spend a brief time being thankful for our good fortune. 

                       Kath on Cannon Beach, dancing, with Haystack rock as a backdrop.

When we arrived and checked in, we were invited to the solarium, to enjoy the view and partake of a sampling of Oregon wines and cheeses.  We thought both were wonderful.  The fact they were complementary might have influenced our enjoyment, but I don't think so.  They were very good.

                                                  Even the room name had significance.

We had a romantic dinner later that night, in the hotel as well.  The menu was all about local fish, meat and vegetables, and every dish was delicious to the taste and tantalizing to the eyes.  We enjoyed breakfast the next morning, which, again, was wonderful and satisfying.  I was feeling my best since the operation.  When Kathy wanted a second coffee, I said that I would get it for her.  There was a coffee station set up for those wanting to help themselves.  The breakfast dishes were fine china and Kath argued that she would get her own, as my small motor skills were still a bit suspect.  I knew I could manage this small task, and I wanted to look after her, as she had done nothing for the past month, but care for me.

I took both our cups and saucers, walked to the coffee island, and filled our cups, adding a splash of milk to Kathy's cup.  I put both cups back on their saucers and began their transport back to our table.  I was doing great.  I looked straight ahead,  knowing  that I was holding the saucers securely and level.  It was a proud moment.   An accomplishment.  Celebratory.  Kathy, however, was waving at me like a wild woman.  She was mouthing words and was half-out of her chair.  What was wrong with that girl?  I finally looked down to my coffees.  The anarchist was striking back at me.   My left hand was not at all level.   Far from it.  It was tilting the saucer and accompanying cup over, of its own accord.  I had spilled coffee with every step of my trip.  There was a small gulp left in the bottom of her cup.  She might make do with that.

By then, one of the servers had noticed the commotion and we arrived at the table together.  Kath apologized to her and explained my issues.  Of course there was no problem, and she would bring Kathy another fresh (and full) coffee.  All in all, just another day in the life.

Then, we drove and met up with a small group of friends in Bend, to watch two of our club professionals play  for their tour cards.  The weather was not particularly good, and we walked the course in rain for a couple of days.  I did struggle on the second day, with fatigue.  At one point, I had to sit on the wet grass and lean against a tree until I could re-charge my batteries, so to speak.  Kath was worried, obviously, but we managed.  It was nice to finally get together with our Renaissance friends.  Our pros, disappointedly, did not make the cut.  Arnie Eger arranged for a final night dinner for the pros, so their trip was not a total loss.

                                             David Kent with Roshan Juman on the bag.

As we were planning to head west for my post-surgery outing, we had invited our kids and their kids to join us in Bend.  They were all living on the west coast at the time, so it was a driving trip for them.  It was a perfect opportunity to get together with the entire gang.  We had rented a nice home, large enough for our family.  After all the trauma of the previous month, a family gathering was a great gift to myself, and to my child bride.

 Steph and Mom helping kids with multiple skill levels play a board game, with a lot of interruptions.

                                                Everyone but me having fun in the pool.

                                         
We had an eclectic week with each day filled with multiple activities.  Golf for some of the adults, swimming, biking, hiking, touring, shopping, eating and just being together.  There was little rest, as you can imagine.  We did squeeze in some adult time with hors d'oeuvres and adult beverages.  All things in balance, you know.

                                             Our family at week's end.  Love them all.


We had planned to return to Portland for two final nights, to celebrate our anniversary and have some peace.  When we told them, our girls said they would meet us in Portland, as they all had to go through there on their way home.  We could have dinner together.  Oh, fine.

We were a large and raucous group for dinner that night.  When one customer was about to be seated at the table beside us, Gray told him that might not be the best seat in the house.  The poor man took a long look, and a short listen, and asked the hostess for another table.  Good move by Gray.  Stephanie and Gray et al left  immediately after dinner for Seattle, but Doug and Kristin said they were in no rush and booked a room at our hotel, to stay with us for the duration.

                                                  At the iconic Voodoo Donuts.  Portland.

So, those of us left, toured Portland the next day.  We walked forever.  We had a big-assed breakfast at Momma's, and burgs and brews at a micro-brewery.  Fabulous and fun.  We had already changed our dinner reservation,  from  two to four, because Bob and Sharon Alghren  were also going to be in Portland on our anniversary and asked if they could join us.  Of course.  Bob was a good buddy.  Now I had to call Portland Prime and modify our reservation.

                  Avet and Poppa living large in the city.  Note the horseshoe haircut growing back.

The restaurant was already over-booked.   Naturally.  It was Saturday night.  I convinced the reservations hostess to move us from our romantic table by the window, overlooking the city, to any table that would hold eight people.  We would have to eat an hour later, but we were in.

Finally, cocktails and dinner.  Fancy dress.   Suits and ties for Bob and me and summer dresses for the ladies.  Our kids did not bring their fancy duds, as they had not originally planned to be on our date night.   We told them not to worry.  We were not dining without them.  Bob brought a celebratory bottle of wine.  Kristin and Eli could not manage the late hour.  The poor little guy could not help but fuss, and Kris took him back to their room.  Doug and his little trooper son, Avet, hung in to the bitter  end and inevitable dessert.  In the end, Bob picked up the entire check, despite a strong argument.  Thank you Bob and Sharon.

It was the end of a long and joyous trip.  We had had some bumps, but we were living.  Living life as we wanted.  We had been with friends.  We had shared time with our entire family.  We had each other.  And we were laughing again.  We left for home, so very, very happy.

 It had been a happy and memorable anniversary.