Headlong to Thanksgiving
In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril, Amlodopine, Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: Turn The Page: Bob Seger
Update
Our weather continues to be outstanding. Daily highs in the low 80's and high 60's at night. I tell you this, only as I am acutely aware that most of you are not as fortunate. Gloating 101. With honors.
The news this week has been all about Presidential impeachment That, and a more interesting story that a number of forward-thinking companies are finding success with a four day work week. I have been captivated by the idea. So much so, that I am going to initiate it within my consulting business, Nextep Partners. Beginning this week, my intent is to announce to my employees, the initiation of a new four day work week. I need to keep up with the times. I am nothing, if not au courant.
I have been struggling to find productive work outside our home, so this will be a massive challenge for me. My list of domestic tasks grows daily, and I depend on cancer operations and recovery time, for avoidance. Some might see this as an unreasonable alternative, but this is my chosen path. And I am damned good at it.
I have not worked, legitimately, for even one day, in several years now. So any, more immediate work, may now tend to come with an attitude more flighty than diligent.
I am alone in my office, most days, so none will be the wiser. Kath is at work, teaching, during the week, and we have no security cameras watching me, so I am fairly secure in my belief that I am beyond observation.
It is not that I am indolent. I do not require naps. But with this new, stringent four day work week, now being implemented, I might be physically taxed to the point of nap necessity.
Truthfully, I am not sure I can really handle the required extra four days. Even if this new work plan does not work out, I am confident I will not be fired. I have a pretty cushy job. And my boss and I have an attachment. I promise to keep you apprised.
One last thing that bristled me this past week. I now see that Reggie Bush has joined a national football show on television. And Alex Rodriguez has been on a baseball show, for a long time. Does no-one remember their contributions to their sport? Shame. Lack of respect.
I bear no grudges. But there must be thousands of better candidates as analysts. Past contributors, whose work on and off their field of play, was positive. People who have a depth of knowledge, and are articulate on the subject.
I guess A-Rod is on camera, as he is handsome, has a great smile and is dating J-Lo. He is a bona fide celebrity. And that sells. I don't know Reggie's story. It must be good. By next year, I expect Pete Rose will be announcing the World Series and Lance Armstrong explaining the nuances of cycling on The Tour de France. What a world.
Veterans Day, 2019
Thank you to all those who have served the U.K, Canada and the United States Of America. My countries. And I am proud of each and every one. And thankful to all who kept them, and many others countries, free. A debt that can never be adequately repaid. We need to remember.
Step Back to 2015
The list of my head traumas is long. A mastoid surgery, requiring six entire months of recovery, while I was in grade school. My face through a car windshield, followed by 43 stitches through my eyebrows, and 4 more on my nose. That same nose, having had itself broken five times. Six, if we count the failed surgery to break it and straighten it, so that I might have an easier time breathing. With lungs, compromised since I was four, breathing is still work. I have done my share of exercise to stave off the failure of my lungs. So far, so good.
Of course, there were my surgeries in Toronto, prior to our moving south. My original stage 4 melanoma diagnosis, resulted in a very large, shoulder to shoulder back excision, and the removal of the crown of my head. One of those sites was the primary culprit, but both were lethally equal.
And there was the recently discussed AVM and subsequent staph infection. And, again, that was followed by another surgery to remove the infection and patch my scalp, as best as could be done.
We have not touched on the worst cancer we endured, at least from a visual perspective. The earliest sign of trouble came in the fall of 2015.
This little bugger showed up on the crown of my head one day. Just like that. There it was.
I just pulled it off. A tiny piece of meat, stuck in my hair. Hardly attached at all. I removed it with no problem and no pain. Nothing. Simply a nuisance. But weird, none the less. No doubt about that. Having parts of your body fall off, for no apparent reason, is disconcerting. Desertion of the highest order.
It left a small wound, barely noticeable to me. Mostly, due to its location, beyond my view. I have had the advantage of having so many open wounds, that I am not phased at their sight any more. I was acutely aware, however, that this was not good.
Kath called Dr. Harrington's office, to set an appointment, as I most likely would need another surgery. There was no rush, so our plan was to see him in two weeks.
It was mid- November, 2016. My head wound, slight as it was, became irritated, sensitive to touch, and clearly, not fit for public consumption. We traveled to Universal Studios to meet Stephanie, for dinner. Had to keep the hat on, as much as I oppose wearing one indoors. She was attending a business meeting there. That would be our last time together.
I had spent most of that fall recovering from multiple excisions of cancer sites on my lower legs. My sailing never remains smooth for very long. Quickly, my problems had migrated from my lower extremities to the top of my head.
My head was quickly becoming seriously problematic. Multiple sores began manifesting at a perplexing rate. The cancer that had remained dormant for about twenty years, was now raging out of control. At least, that was my thinking.
The new site worsened, and within days, on the site of the open wound, a massive growth had protruded from my scalp. We became really concerned. My first thought was that the cancer might well be tunneling down at the same rate that it was building externally. This was all happening at an unbelievable pace. I had experienced cancer first hand for years, but this was shocking. I questioned myself, looking for answers.
Why had this happened? What gate had been opened? Was this operable? Would this finally be my end? Answers? None.
Dr. Harrington had provided us with his cell phone number, several years prior, with the promise that he would always take care of us and that when needed, he would be there. We had texted him only a few times, to keep him apprised of my condition, at his request. This time, Kathy called him and advised him that she was sending a picture of this new growth.
This was the picture
The good doctor called back posthaste, to tell us that there were no operating rooms available at Moffit that week, so he had booked an operating theater at Tampa General. There would be no time wasted. I am surmising that he might well have been as concerned as I was, about the possibility of the cancer's internal growth.
This was as much as I could handle this week. Kath still struggles with her auto-immune issues, but help may be on the way. We will see in a week or so.
As always, keep your faith. Spread your love. Have compassion. Keep your family and friends close.
Thank you for your calls and comments. They make this trip worthwhile.
jrobinmullen@gmail.com
On The Stereo: Turn The Page: Bob Seger
Update
Our weather continues to be outstanding. Daily highs in the low 80's and high 60's at night. I tell you this, only as I am acutely aware that most of you are not as fortunate. Gloating 101. With honors.
The news this week has been all about Presidential impeachment That, and a more interesting story that a number of forward-thinking companies are finding success with a four day work week. I have been captivated by the idea. So much so, that I am going to initiate it within my consulting business, Nextep Partners. Beginning this week, my intent is to announce to my employees, the initiation of a new four day work week. I need to keep up with the times. I am nothing, if not au courant.
I have been struggling to find productive work outside our home, so this will be a massive challenge for me. My list of domestic tasks grows daily, and I depend on cancer operations and recovery time, for avoidance. Some might see this as an unreasonable alternative, but this is my chosen path. And I am damned good at it.
I have not worked, legitimately, for even one day, in several years now. So any, more immediate work, may now tend to come with an attitude more flighty than diligent.
I am alone in my office, most days, so none will be the wiser. Kath is at work, teaching, during the week, and we have no security cameras watching me, so I am fairly secure in my belief that I am beyond observation.
It is not that I am indolent. I do not require naps. But with this new, stringent four day work week, now being implemented, I might be physically taxed to the point of nap necessity.
Truthfully, I am not sure I can really handle the required extra four days. Even if this new work plan does not work out, I am confident I will not be fired. I have a pretty cushy job. And my boss and I have an attachment. I promise to keep you apprised.
One last thing that bristled me this past week. I now see that Reggie Bush has joined a national football show on television. And Alex Rodriguez has been on a baseball show, for a long time. Does no-one remember their contributions to their sport? Shame. Lack of respect.
I bear no grudges. But there must be thousands of better candidates as analysts. Past contributors, whose work on and off their field of play, was positive. People who have a depth of knowledge, and are articulate on the subject.
I guess A-Rod is on camera, as he is handsome, has a great smile and is dating J-Lo. He is a bona fide celebrity. And that sells. I don't know Reggie's story. It must be good. By next year, I expect Pete Rose will be announcing the World Series and Lance Armstrong explaining the nuances of cycling on The Tour de France. What a world.
Veterans Day, 2019
Thank you to all those who have served the U.K, Canada and the United States Of America. My countries. And I am proud of each and every one. And thankful to all who kept them, and many others countries, free. A debt that can never be adequately repaid. We need to remember.
Step Back to 2015
The list of my head traumas is long. A mastoid surgery, requiring six entire months of recovery, while I was in grade school. My face through a car windshield, followed by 43 stitches through my eyebrows, and 4 more on my nose. That same nose, having had itself broken five times. Six, if we count the failed surgery to break it and straighten it, so that I might have an easier time breathing. With lungs, compromised since I was four, breathing is still work. I have done my share of exercise to stave off the failure of my lungs. So far, so good.
Of course, there were my surgeries in Toronto, prior to our moving south. My original stage 4 melanoma diagnosis, resulted in a very large, shoulder to shoulder back excision, and the removal of the crown of my head. One of those sites was the primary culprit, but both were lethally equal.
And there was the recently discussed AVM and subsequent staph infection. And, again, that was followed by another surgery to remove the infection and patch my scalp, as best as could be done.
We have not touched on the worst cancer we endured, at least from a visual perspective. The earliest sign of trouble came in the fall of 2015.
This little bugger showed up on the crown of my head one day. Just like that. There it was.
I just pulled it off. A tiny piece of meat, stuck in my hair. Hardly attached at all. I removed it with no problem and no pain. Nothing. Simply a nuisance. But weird, none the less. No doubt about that. Having parts of your body fall off, for no apparent reason, is disconcerting. Desertion of the highest order.
It left a small wound, barely noticeable to me. Mostly, due to its location, beyond my view. I have had the advantage of having so many open wounds, that I am not phased at their sight any more. I was acutely aware, however, that this was not good.
Kath called Dr. Harrington's office, to set an appointment, as I most likely would need another surgery. There was no rush, so our plan was to see him in two weeks.
It was mid- November, 2016. My head wound, slight as it was, became irritated, sensitive to touch, and clearly, not fit for public consumption. We traveled to Universal Studios to meet Stephanie, for dinner. Had to keep the hat on, as much as I oppose wearing one indoors. She was attending a business meeting there. That would be our last time together.
I had spent most of that fall recovering from multiple excisions of cancer sites on my lower legs. My sailing never remains smooth for very long. Quickly, my problems had migrated from my lower extremities to the top of my head.
My head was quickly becoming seriously problematic. Multiple sores began manifesting at a perplexing rate. The cancer that had remained dormant for about twenty years, was now raging out of control. At least, that was my thinking.
The new site worsened, and within days, on the site of the open wound, a massive growth had protruded from my scalp. We became really concerned. My first thought was that the cancer might well be tunneling down at the same rate that it was building externally. This was all happening at an unbelievable pace. I had experienced cancer first hand for years, but this was shocking. I questioned myself, looking for answers.
Why had this happened? What gate had been opened? Was this operable? Would this finally be my end? Answers? None.
Dr. Harrington had provided us with his cell phone number, several years prior, with the promise that he would always take care of us and that when needed, he would be there. We had texted him only a few times, to keep him apprised of my condition, at his request. This time, Kathy called him and advised him that she was sending a picture of this new growth.
This was the picture
The good doctor called back posthaste, to tell us that there were no operating rooms available at Moffit that week, so he had booked an operating theater at Tampa General. There would be no time wasted. I am surmising that he might well have been as concerned as I was, about the possibility of the cancer's internal growth.
This was as much as I could handle this week. Kath still struggles with her auto-immune issues, but help may be on the way. We will see in a week or so.
As always, keep your faith. Spread your love. Have compassion. Keep your family and friends close.
Thank you for your calls and comments. They make this trip worthwhile.
jrobinmullen@gmail.com
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