Yesterday (New Year's Adam) we said good bye to 8 new friends who had come to this part of the world to teach English at a local school. They were amazing and accomplished so much in about 10 days. Prior to their departure we visited a park near where our kids live. It is an amazing park filled with beautiful trees and plants. The locals have added statues with character. The park is a work-in-progress in that they are adding to it continually, including transplanting huge trees. It truly is remarkable.
Here's the truly sad part. They've also constructed an extremely large Buddhist temple. We looked through the temple and saw all the monks and workers, along with the many people purchasing incense sticks and offering prayers to...uhhhhh, to...ummmm, prayers to "whoever might be there." They believe all roads lead to their concept of heaven. The truth is none of their roads lead to heaven. Judy and I commented to our friends to take a good look at the faces of the people offering incense and prayers to "the great unknown" because they'll not see those same faces in heaven UNLESS. That made us extremely sad. As we walked through the compound I kept repeating, "Jesus is Lord, Jesus is Lord" and so wanting that to become a reality for the folks there.
In town today we encountered several Buddhist monks wanting to give us a blessing and to receive one in return (I think they expected that their "received" blessings would be of a monetary type). I have to admit I didn't have much patience with them. Yes, they are deluded, part of the spiritual darkness so prevalent here and darkness operates like darkness. But knowing how they are deluding so many made me want to do anything but give them a blessing. However I've decided to pray for them by the names I "affectionately" gave them: Moe, Larry and Curly. I really think God will know who they are as I lift their names from time-to-time.
As I write there's only 98 minutes left in this year and decade. "Good bye ought oh and hello decade of the teens." Happy New Year, readers.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Plumbing issues
The Chinese deserve credit for so many things they do well. They are masters of cooking I can't begin to describe how tasty they can make corn, green beans, egg plant, broccoli and cabbage--I could be a vegetarian here. They are also wizards at making water buffalo taste good--tonight we had a pepper beef dish that is to die for. We also had a fish dish that tops any fish I've had in USAmerica. (They fillet the fish then make fish rolls that include cilantro, garlic and an herb to be named later, then place the rolls in a row and return the head and tail before cooking and presenting the dish. Wish I'd had a camera to capture Judy's expression when the fish was served, staring at her.)
They are amazing gardeners. Find a small plot of land and they'll grow something. Or, construct a building with a flat roof and they'll add dirt and turn it into a roof garden.
Horticulture? They can't be beat. You'll find parks here that make anything we've got in USAmerica look bland. (They transplant anything with success, even mature trees. Fascinating!)
But plumbing? NO WAY!!! For some reason they've not got this down very well. (Who am I kidding, they suck at plumbing.) What's supposed to hold water leaks and what's supposed to let water drain doesn't. During our recent village visit we stayed in a very nice hotel (except for the cardboard covered concrete slab bed). It even had a Western potty. Sweet. Our bathroom came with a shower in-a-tub and a counter around the sink--a perk for China. We had plenty of hot water for showers--a luxury. So where's the problem? Glad you asked.
Judy showered first while I scraped my face with cold steel. Then it was my turn. There was a dispenser for hair & body wash--not my idea of an ideal situation. I mean, how does the soap know if you're applying it to hair or body? Surely there's some difference between the texture of hair and skin and the hygiene needs of each. Oh well, it made lather. Things were going well--I even checked to make sure the shear shower curtain was directing the water into the tub and not onto the bathroom floor, and the wisp of a curtain was doing it's job. Who wants a wet bathroom floor.(So far, so good.) I finished after a reasonable time (reasonable means I used enough hair & body wash along with the water to get my hair and body washed. Being a "full bodied" guy, it takes some time to get all the din off my skin (I don't know what that means either, but I wanted to rhyme something). Turn off the water, open the curtain and grab a towel. OH NO, THERE'S WATER ON THE FLOOR! How did it get there since I was being so careful with the curtain? IT WAS COMING OUT OF THE FLOOR DRAIN! That's right, the water was draining out of the tub, down the drain, and up onto the floor. HOW CRAZY IS THAT? Couldn't stop the flood. I threw down towels in a futile attempt to dam up the water. The only thing I succeeded in doing was getting all our towels sopping wet. It suddenly dawned on me--I can't swim! The water continued to rise--the rats were bailing out of the ship, the furniture was floating, the musicians began playing "Nearer My God to Thee" (oh wait, that was on the Titanic). The tide stopped rising just before it got to the three foot line on our door, which was fortunate because the door stoop was at three feet and 1/2 inch (and it explained why we had such a big step to get into the bathroom).
We reported the problem, fully expecting the Asian Roto Rooter to arrive and correct the problem before our next bathing adventure. WRONG! The next morning the water began to rise. But I had a flash of insight--PUT THE PLUG IN THE TUB--KEEP THE WATER IN THE TUB AND NOT ON THE FLOOR. But remember, the things that are supposed to hold water don't. However, in this case, the bathtub plug slowed the water enough so it didn't totally flood the floor. I OUT SMARTED A STUPID DRAIN. I'm proud of that.
The next time you find yourself in a Chinese shower and the water begins to rise, plug the drain. (Just a helpful hint from this old fat white guy who sometimes travels the world.)
They are amazing gardeners. Find a small plot of land and they'll grow something. Or, construct a building with a flat roof and they'll add dirt and turn it into a roof garden.
Horticulture? They can't be beat. You'll find parks here that make anything we've got in USAmerica look bland. (They transplant anything with success, even mature trees. Fascinating!)
But plumbing? NO WAY!!! For some reason they've not got this down very well. (Who am I kidding, they suck at plumbing.) What's supposed to hold water leaks and what's supposed to let water drain doesn't. During our recent village visit we stayed in a very nice hotel (except for the cardboard covered concrete slab bed). It even had a Western potty. Sweet. Our bathroom came with a shower in-a-tub and a counter around the sink--a perk for China. We had plenty of hot water for showers--a luxury. So where's the problem? Glad you asked.
Judy showered first while I scraped my face with cold steel. Then it was my turn. There was a dispenser for hair & body wash--not my idea of an ideal situation. I mean, how does the soap know if you're applying it to hair or body? Surely there's some difference between the texture of hair and skin and the hygiene needs of each. Oh well, it made lather. Things were going well--I even checked to make sure the shear shower curtain was directing the water into the tub and not onto the bathroom floor, and the wisp of a curtain was doing it's job. Who wants a wet bathroom floor.(So far, so good.) I finished after a reasonable time (reasonable means I used enough hair & body wash along with the water to get my hair and body washed. Being a "full bodied" guy, it takes some time to get all the din off my skin (I don't know what that means either, but I wanted to rhyme something). Turn off the water, open the curtain and grab a towel. OH NO, THERE'S WATER ON THE FLOOR! How did it get there since I was being so careful with the curtain? IT WAS COMING OUT OF THE FLOOR DRAIN! That's right, the water was draining out of the tub, down the drain, and up onto the floor. HOW CRAZY IS THAT? Couldn't stop the flood. I threw down towels in a futile attempt to dam up the water. The only thing I succeeded in doing was getting all our towels sopping wet. It suddenly dawned on me--I can't swim! The water continued to rise--the rats were bailing out of the ship, the furniture was floating, the musicians began playing "Nearer My God to Thee" (oh wait, that was on the Titanic). The tide stopped rising just before it got to the three foot line on our door, which was fortunate because the door stoop was at three feet and 1/2 inch (and it explained why we had such a big step to get into the bathroom).
We reported the problem, fully expecting the Asian Roto Rooter to arrive and correct the problem before our next bathing adventure. WRONG! The next morning the water began to rise. But I had a flash of insight--PUT THE PLUG IN THE TUB--KEEP THE WATER IN THE TUB AND NOT ON THE FLOOR. But remember, the things that are supposed to hold water don't. However, in this case, the bathtub plug slowed the water enough so it didn't totally flood the floor. I OUT SMARTED A STUPID DRAIN. I'm proud of that.
The next time you find yourself in a Chinese shower and the water begins to rise, plug the drain. (Just a helpful hint from this old fat white guy who sometimes travels the world.)
Monday, December 28, 2009
Coffee tragedy
If you've been reading this blog very long, or know my wonderful wife very well, then you know she is a coffee aficionado. (Who am I kidding, she's a downright coffee snob and an addict.) Judy really, really, really, really...likes her coffee in the morning--or any other time of the day, for that matter. (She's not coffee-time prejudiced.) She also enjoys quality coffee (thus the "coffee snob" comment). Her coffee m.o. is to grind the beans just before adding said grounds to the pot and producing her special brew. To grind the beans earlier is to loose some the flavor. In a pinch, she will use ground coffee, but it's just not the same.
Judy has been rubbing off on our precious Brigitte. Brig is no where near the coffee snob status of her mom, but she's working on it. Living is China has created a challenge for Brigitte and her ever-expanding coffee-loving taste buds because the Chinese are BIG on tea. Never-the-less, she has discovered where to find java beans and she also has her own grinder. Kevin gave her a one-cup portable coffee maker for the trips they make to the countryside. Judy was thrilled to see this because we were planning to make a trip to the country the day after Christmas--which we did. (This is all set-up to the story of the tragedy.)
We traveled to the country village (the village only has a population of 60,000, a trivial sized populace in a country with the population of 1.3 billion) with said coffee maker stowed securely in our luggage. Judy packed the coffee. Since it was only a two-day trip, Judy was settling for ground coffee and the grinder was left at home. (Bear with me, dear reader, the plot will thicken immediately.)
Sunday morning I awakened to--not a blood-curdling scream--a pathetic "Oh no." Being the doting husband that I am, I rolled over on my board--err, bed (don't get me started on the Chinese concept of a bed: a concrete slab with a layer of cardboard for the mattress; see, I warned you about getting me started), pulled the cover over my eyes and attempted to return to my cardboard covered concrete back-cracking cyatic arousing coma. The next thing I remember is hearing a whap, whap, whap, whap sound. Thinking that the construction workers next door had inflitrated our room, I sprang to my feet (as quickly as a cardboard covered concrete back-cracking cyatic arousing comatose old fat guy can spring--you get the picture)to block the door. There were no construction workers in our room. Here's what I discovered.
In our busyness of getting ready to catch the 11:45 bus to said village, Judy had grabbed a box of Gevilia coffee, not noticing that it was whole beans, not ground coffee. (I'm almost of the opinion that she just can't bring herself to handle ground coffee and it was a Freudian thing she did.) Since we hadn't carried the grinder with us, we had a problem: a coffee addict with a coffee maker but whole beans with no grinder. (Picture the scene from Apollo 13 and Tom Hanks announcing, "Houston, we have a problem" and you get the sense of what was happening in our room.) So Judy, in her coffee-deprived but not to be coffee-denied state, took an empty M & M's bag, placed the whole beans inside the bag, then began beating the bean-bag with a drinking glass. She was determined to somehow grind her beans to make her coffee. I attempted to help her. It was a pathetic attempt to provide relief to her craving for scalding hot liquid caffine.
NOTE TO READERS: Coffee beans beaten in an M & M bag by a drinking glass will not be smashed to a consistency equal to that of beans ground in an actual grinder.
Needless to report, the smashed-not-ground beans made a liquid beverage that was nothing like coffee. It was a sad, sad, sad day in the China village. In recognition of our tragedy, the hotel lowered the Chinese flag to half staff. We found instant (can you imagine) Vietnamese coffee in a store next to the hotel. The beverage it produced caused Judy to burn the half-staff posted flag.
Here's the lesson for all to learn. When traveling with only a one-cup brewer and no grinder to a city or village near you (which doen't sell whole beans), make sure the coffee you pack is ground. Life will be better for all.
Judy has been rubbing off on our precious Brigitte. Brig is no where near the coffee snob status of her mom, but she's working on it. Living is China has created a challenge for Brigitte and her ever-expanding coffee-loving taste buds because the Chinese are BIG on tea. Never-the-less, she has discovered where to find java beans and she also has her own grinder. Kevin gave her a one-cup portable coffee maker for the trips they make to the countryside. Judy was thrilled to see this because we were planning to make a trip to the country the day after Christmas--which we did. (This is all set-up to the story of the tragedy.)
We traveled to the country village (the village only has a population of 60,000, a trivial sized populace in a country with the population of 1.3 billion) with said coffee maker stowed securely in our luggage. Judy packed the coffee. Since it was only a two-day trip, Judy was settling for ground coffee and the grinder was left at home. (Bear with me, dear reader, the plot will thicken immediately.)
Sunday morning I awakened to--not a blood-curdling scream--a pathetic "Oh no." Being the doting husband that I am, I rolled over on my board--err, bed (don't get me started on the Chinese concept of a bed: a concrete slab with a layer of cardboard for the mattress; see, I warned you about getting me started), pulled the cover over my eyes and attempted to return to my cardboard covered concrete back-cracking cyatic arousing coma. The next thing I remember is hearing a whap, whap, whap, whap sound. Thinking that the construction workers next door had inflitrated our room, I sprang to my feet (as quickly as a cardboard covered concrete back-cracking cyatic arousing comatose old fat guy can spring--you get the picture)to block the door. There were no construction workers in our room. Here's what I discovered.
In our busyness of getting ready to catch the 11:45 bus to said village, Judy had grabbed a box of Gevilia coffee, not noticing that it was whole beans, not ground coffee. (I'm almost of the opinion that she just can't bring herself to handle ground coffee and it was a Freudian thing she did.) Since we hadn't carried the grinder with us, we had a problem: a coffee addict with a coffee maker but whole beans with no grinder. (Picture the scene from Apollo 13 and Tom Hanks announcing, "Houston, we have a problem" and you get the sense of what was happening in our room.) So Judy, in her coffee-deprived but not to be coffee-denied state, took an empty M & M's bag, placed the whole beans inside the bag, then began beating the bean-bag with a drinking glass. She was determined to somehow grind her beans to make her coffee. I attempted to help her. It was a pathetic attempt to provide relief to her craving for scalding hot liquid caffine.
NOTE TO READERS: Coffee beans beaten in an M & M bag by a drinking glass will not be smashed to a consistency equal to that of beans ground in an actual grinder.
Needless to report, the smashed-not-ground beans made a liquid beverage that was nothing like coffee. It was a sad, sad, sad day in the China village. In recognition of our tragedy, the hotel lowered the Chinese flag to half staff. We found instant (can you imagine) Vietnamese coffee in a store next to the hotel. The beverage it produced caused Judy to burn the half-staff posted flag.
Here's the lesson for all to learn. When traveling with only a one-cup brewer and no grinder to a city or village near you (which doen't sell whole beans), make sure the coffee you pack is ground. Life will be better for all.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas
Christmas in China is like living a mixed metaphor. Almost everywhere we have gone we've heard Christmas music: some authentic Western music and some with a Chinese twang. Grace, our vivacious 3 year old granddaughter, has watched several Christmas videos in anticipation of the actual day. Every video has shown snow falling on Christmas. Grace has been led to believe snow and Christmas are synonymous. She has eagerly declared that it would snow Christmas and that's how we would know it was Christmas. South China has been experiencing a progressive warming this week and Christmas morning dawned very warm and extremely humid. She's not believed us when we've told her it was Christmas--how can it be Christmas without snow? Meanwhile, "back at the ranch," it has been snowing. Lubbock made national news because of the weather and our Oklahoma kids have experienced a blizzard--complete with 14 inches of snow. I think Grace feels cheated.
Yesterday we had a Christmas Eve meal with our kids and 4 Okies gone East. Brigitte had so wanted to be able to serve turkey and ham. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find ham in China? Ham is as scarce here as Tiger Wood's vow of monogamy. And turkey? Not really an option. So my innovative daughter went on line and found a recipe for chicken and bacon. While not technically turkey and ham, it was pork and poultry. Regardless, it was amazingly good--we're bringing the recipe home to repeat in Lubbock.
Brigitte also wanted sweet potatoes. We couldn't find any at Wah-a-mah (Walmart) or the other markets but, guess what? Street vendors sell them already cooked. It seems the Chinese like to eat cooked sweet potatoes by themselves. We made a vendor's day when we purchased 8 sweet spuds at once. Brigitte took these cooked veggies, added special ingredients and--wha laa--excellent sweet potato casserole.
One of the many challenges for a Westerner living in Asia is being able to replicate the tastes of home. Not everything we USAmericans like matches the palette of the Chinese. But Brigitte is extremely innovative and, along with the other "company women" share ideas and discoveries. The foreigners are a close-knit community and help one another. Their camaraderie should serve as a model for all friendships.
We've absolutely loved being around our two granddaughters at Christmas. Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a three-year-old is refreshing. And having a baby to giggle and coo reminds one of the true meaning of Christmas. A baby makes all the difference.
So to all you USAmericans at home experiencing a white Christmas, feasting on butterball turkey and honey glazed ham, try hard to enjoy your day. You're definitely missing something that can only be found in China. (And as soon as I figure out what it is you're missing, I'll let you know.)
Tomorrow we leave for the country to meet up with 8 students from Ohio who pulled a "Christmas in China Cultural Exchange." They've been teaching English in a village school. Tomorrow we go to spend a few days with them. We'll not have access to the Internet, so this is my last posting for a few days. Weep not, faithful blog followers, I shall return with a renewed vengeance for hitting the net with tales from the dark side. (WHAT!! TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE!!! GET A GRIP GERLT!) I mean, I'll return with stories from the country. And since I grew up in the country, I'll have a frame of reference for story telling. (WHATEVER.)
Good night and Merry Christmas from the magical land of China.
Yesterday we had a Christmas Eve meal with our kids and 4 Okies gone East. Brigitte had so wanted to be able to serve turkey and ham. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find ham in China? Ham is as scarce here as Tiger Wood's vow of monogamy. And turkey? Not really an option. So my innovative daughter went on line and found a recipe for chicken and bacon. While not technically turkey and ham, it was pork and poultry. Regardless, it was amazingly good--we're bringing the recipe home to repeat in Lubbock.
Brigitte also wanted sweet potatoes. We couldn't find any at Wah-a-mah (Walmart) or the other markets but, guess what? Street vendors sell them already cooked. It seems the Chinese like to eat cooked sweet potatoes by themselves. We made a vendor's day when we purchased 8 sweet spuds at once. Brigitte took these cooked veggies, added special ingredients and--wha laa--excellent sweet potato casserole.
One of the many challenges for a Westerner living in Asia is being able to replicate the tastes of home. Not everything we USAmericans like matches the palette of the Chinese. But Brigitte is extremely innovative and, along with the other "company women" share ideas and discoveries. The foreigners are a close-knit community and help one another. Their camaraderie should serve as a model for all friendships.
We've absolutely loved being around our two granddaughters at Christmas. Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a three-year-old is refreshing. And having a baby to giggle and coo reminds one of the true meaning of Christmas. A baby makes all the difference.
So to all you USAmericans at home experiencing a white Christmas, feasting on butterball turkey and honey glazed ham, try hard to enjoy your day. You're definitely missing something that can only be found in China. (And as soon as I figure out what it is you're missing, I'll let you know.)
Tomorrow we leave for the country to meet up with 8 students from Ohio who pulled a "Christmas in China Cultural Exchange." They've been teaching English in a village school. Tomorrow we go to spend a few days with them. We'll not have access to the Internet, so this is my last posting for a few days. Weep not, faithful blog followers, I shall return with a renewed vengeance for hitting the net with tales from the dark side. (WHAT!! TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE!!! GET A GRIP GERLT!) I mean, I'll return with stories from the country. And since I grew up in the country, I'll have a frame of reference for story telling. (WHATEVER.)
Good night and Merry Christmas from the magical land of China.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Eve
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town, Christmas carols were playing, but no one knew what they meant.
Today Kevin, Grace and I went out to allow the "women folk" to prepare for our Christmas Eve meal with friends of the kids. We went to a beautiful park close to their house. Grace was given her choice of 5 rides in the kiddie park. She chose wisely. One of the rides played "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desire" then switched to "Away in a Manger." AMAZING! Her favorite "ride" was the bungee/trampoline jump. She was placed into a harness attached to bungee cords. The cords were attached to poles that extended out at an angle from the trampoline. She could jump and go very high. I've watched adults do the adult version of the "ride" in malls in USAmerica, and they can really bounce high. Truthfully, I didn't think Grace would enjoy this ride. WRONG! She loved it. Normally the ride lasts 3 minutes, but because the park wasn't very busy and because she was so cute and performing so well and attracting a crowd, she was allowed to go until she was tired--22 minutes worth. She had a ball. Chinese women would hand their cameras to friends, run up to the trampoline to have their pictures taken with this little white girl who was bouncing sky high. (Chinese women are fascinated by white children and continually want to have their pictures taken with her. Go figure.)
We went to McDonald's (pronounced My Dung Low with the Low pronounced like "wow" but with the "l" instead) for lunch. They followed the Chinese tradition of setting up a Christmas tree, but to call it a Christmas tree is to stretch the point. I'm thinking all of China has seen the cartoon "Charlie Browns' Christmas Tree" and have come to believe that's the norm. Almost all Christmas trees here are pathetic. The "trees" are tiny and the few ornaments look like they were thrown on by drunken monkeys. But, hey, give them credit--they're accommodating to a holiday they don't understand.
Here's the sad part of this blog. The music at Mickie Dees was pure Christmas carols. I was taken back as I heard--in English while eating a McDonald's #2 (hamburger with a special spicy sauce and cucumbers, fries and a Coke Zero) these lyrics: "...O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord." Some Chinese, recognizing our very Western faces, would make it a point to wish us "Merry Christmas." They have no clue as to the true meaning of Christmas. Oh that the day comes when they DO understand what Christmas is all about.
Here's my concern for USAmerica--that we NOT lose the true meaning of Christmas. We're never more than one generation away from losing the message of Christmas. We cannot allow the secular traditions of Christmas to overcome the true Christmas.
We've heard rumors of there being snow in the mid-west back home--even heard Dallas might actually have a white Christmas. Here in our China town the temperature has risen to spring-like conditions. I went out in my Texas Tech wind suit and broke a sweat before reaching the 50 foot mark. Off came the jacket but out continued the sweet. They're telling us it will be in the upper 70's tomorrow. We definitely will NOT have a white Christmas tomorrow UNLESS the pollen from the trees in bloom blows in.
Oh, I blew past the McDonald's hamburger earlier. I got to tell you, it was very good. In fact, much better than the quarter pounders I usually order at our USAmerica McDonald's. Go figure--a burger with a sauce the color of French salad dressing but with a kick, accompanied by cucumbers--tasting great? Who would have guessed? But who am I kidding--I have limited credibility when it comes to food--I even eat grasshoppers.
Merry Christmas blog dwellers.
Today Kevin, Grace and I went out to allow the "women folk" to prepare for our Christmas Eve meal with friends of the kids. We went to a beautiful park close to their house. Grace was given her choice of 5 rides in the kiddie park. She chose wisely. One of the rides played "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desire" then switched to "Away in a Manger." AMAZING! Her favorite "ride" was the bungee/trampoline jump. She was placed into a harness attached to bungee cords. The cords were attached to poles that extended out at an angle from the trampoline. She could jump and go very high. I've watched adults do the adult version of the "ride" in malls in USAmerica, and they can really bounce high. Truthfully, I didn't think Grace would enjoy this ride. WRONG! She loved it. Normally the ride lasts 3 minutes, but because the park wasn't very busy and because she was so cute and performing so well and attracting a crowd, she was allowed to go until she was tired--22 minutes worth. She had a ball. Chinese women would hand their cameras to friends, run up to the trampoline to have their pictures taken with this little white girl who was bouncing sky high. (Chinese women are fascinated by white children and continually want to have their pictures taken with her. Go figure.)
We went to McDonald's (pronounced My Dung Low with the Low pronounced like "wow" but with the "l" instead) for lunch. They followed the Chinese tradition of setting up a Christmas tree, but to call it a Christmas tree is to stretch the point. I'm thinking all of China has seen the cartoon "Charlie Browns' Christmas Tree" and have come to believe that's the norm. Almost all Christmas trees here are pathetic. The "trees" are tiny and the few ornaments look like they were thrown on by drunken monkeys. But, hey, give them credit--they're accommodating to a holiday they don't understand.
Here's the sad part of this blog. The music at Mickie Dees was pure Christmas carols. I was taken back as I heard--in English while eating a McDonald's #2 (hamburger with a special spicy sauce and cucumbers, fries and a Coke Zero) these lyrics: "...O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord." Some Chinese, recognizing our very Western faces, would make it a point to wish us "Merry Christmas." They have no clue as to the true meaning of Christmas. Oh that the day comes when they DO understand what Christmas is all about.
Here's my concern for USAmerica--that we NOT lose the true meaning of Christmas. We're never more than one generation away from losing the message of Christmas. We cannot allow the secular traditions of Christmas to overcome the true Christmas.
We've heard rumors of there being snow in the mid-west back home--even heard Dallas might actually have a white Christmas. Here in our China town the temperature has risen to spring-like conditions. I went out in my Texas Tech wind suit and broke a sweat before reaching the 50 foot mark. Off came the jacket but out continued the sweet. They're telling us it will be in the upper 70's tomorrow. We definitely will NOT have a white Christmas tomorrow UNLESS the pollen from the trees in bloom blows in.
Oh, I blew past the McDonald's hamburger earlier. I got to tell you, it was very good. In fact, much better than the quarter pounders I usually order at our USAmerica McDonald's. Go figure--a burger with a sauce the color of French salad dressing but with a kick, accompanied by cucumbers--tasting great? Who would have guessed? But who am I kidding--I have limited credibility when it comes to food--I even eat grasshoppers.
Merry Christmas blog dwellers.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Jet Lag-a-due
We're experiencing a rare phenomenon these days--it's called "jet lag-a-due." The "jet lag" is a common occurrence among international travelers. The "lag-a-due" is residual jet lag, thus "lag-a-due." Judy and I got here 4 days ago, suffering from jet lag. We have worked diligently to adjust our body clocks and thought we were getting acclimated to this 14 hour time change. All of a sudden, we're experiencing the effects of the lag-a-due. Sufferers of this rare disease appear to be functioning normally, then suddenly a nap overtakes the stricken one and he/she has no choice but to drop off to sleep for a few minutes. It's kind of annoying and is the source of entertainment for those inoculated to lag-a-due. Today I was hit with the "due" while enjoying lunch and fell asleep with my face in my plate. Not cool. Tonight Kevin and I were shopping at the local Wal-Mart (pronounced Wah Ah Mah by the locals) when it hit me. So, right in the middle of the fish tanks, down I went.
Okay, I exaggerate about the face in the plate and asleep between the tanks, but the lag-a-due is real.
This afternoon Kevin and I went for massages. We each got an hour massage and the combined bill was less than $10.00 FOR BOTH. What a deal--what a country!
For lunch today we made the cross-town trek to the Fragrant Mountain Restaurant. The head chef, a friend of K & B, is named Aqui. She could win any cooking show in the USA. We feasted on friend corn (Grace's favorite), stir-fried green beans, egg plant, sweet & sour chicken, and a broccoli dish that takes your breath away.What she does to these basic vegetables is nothing short of amazing. We feasted and feasted. What a country!
For the record, I cheated death three times today. (Interpretation: we crossed the street 3 times--truly a death-defying fete.)
Today is Christmas Adam. (If the day before Christmas is Christmas Eve, then two days before Christmas is Christmas Adam.) The women folk are busy cooking and getting ready for Christmas day. The two little girls who rule the roost around here are down for the count and I feel another nap coming on. Think I'll just give in and go to bed for the night. ENJOY YOUR CHRISTMAS ADAM--we did ours. (There is one advantage to being 14 hours ahead of our home city in the good ole USA--you get to experience the day ahead of everyone else. What a country!)
Okay, I exaggerate about the face in the plate and asleep between the tanks, but the lag-a-due is real.
This afternoon Kevin and I went for massages. We each got an hour massage and the combined bill was less than $10.00 FOR BOTH. What a deal--what a country!
For lunch today we made the cross-town trek to the Fragrant Mountain Restaurant. The head chef, a friend of K & B, is named Aqui. She could win any cooking show in the USA. We feasted on friend corn (Grace's favorite), stir-fried green beans, egg plant, sweet & sour chicken, and a broccoli dish that takes your breath away.What she does to these basic vegetables is nothing short of amazing. We feasted and feasted. What a country!
For the record, I cheated death three times today. (Interpretation: we crossed the street 3 times--truly a death-defying fete.)
Today is Christmas Adam. (If the day before Christmas is Christmas Eve, then two days before Christmas is Christmas Adam.) The women folk are busy cooking and getting ready for Christmas day. The two little girls who rule the roost around here are down for the count and I feel another nap coming on. Think I'll just give in and go to bed for the night. ENJOY YOUR CHRISTMAS ADAM--we did ours. (There is one advantage to being 14 hours ahead of our home city in the good ole USA--you get to experience the day ahead of everyone else. What a country!)
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Chinese Cabs
We've passed the 72 hour mark on our sojourn in this Eastern City and have had the pleasure (?) of having ridden with at least 10 different taxi drivers. Chinese taxi drivers are the greatest evangelists in the world--they scare the hell out of you. Seriously, if one wasn't a god-fearing individual prior to entry into the cab, he would be by the time he departs. (Speaking of departing--a Chinese taxi just might be the place from which I depart this world.)
Today I called a taxi company to inquire how one becomes a driver. It did not come as a surprise to me that they contact the local suicide hot line for prospects. Unless a driver is a bit suicidal, he/she doesn't have a chance of getting hired. The more depressed and hopeless they are, the better their chance of employment. (Would you believe the average life expectancy of a Chinese cab driver is only 35 seconds? You wouldn't? Okay, its actually 43 seconds.)
To hail a cab here one steps dangerously close to the street, somehow managing to keep both feet on the sidewalk while levitating at a 45 degree angle. Face the oncoming traffic and elevate the right arm, extending the arm at the same angle as the body, palm down, fingers fixed together, then wave said fingers, keeping the thumb attached to the palm. This won't actually get you a cab but they will give you style points which can be redeemed for valuable prizes should you survive your ride. Once a cab recognizes you and pulls toward you (bear in mind, it doesn't matter which direction the cab was traveling, if they decide to provide you a ride, they'll make a "Ueee" regardless of what's coming--remember the suicide hot line connection from earlier? Apply here!), make sure you "claim" the cab. Chinese little ladies can come from no where and jump into the taxi while you're detaching your formerly firmly-planted-feet from the curb.
Upon entering your newly acquired taxi, check the picture on the license with the actual driver. If they don't match, know the driver pictured on the license has: 1) taken the day off (not likely); 2) come down with the swine flu and allowed his semi-comatose cousin to fill in; 3) had a face lift; 4) entered the witness protection program; 5) actually committed suicide. At this point you have the choice of continuing with the ride (recommended) or bailing from a moving vehicle (not recommended).
It's highly recommended that you spend the remainder of your ride with "every head bowed and every eye closed." Pray as if your life depends on it--BECAUSE IT DOES! (I'm writing this while riding in a taxi--I've got to pray. If I survive the ride, I'll blog more later.)
Today I called a taxi company to inquire how one becomes a driver. It did not come as a surprise to me that they contact the local suicide hot line for prospects. Unless a driver is a bit suicidal, he/she doesn't have a chance of getting hired. The more depressed and hopeless they are, the better their chance of employment. (Would you believe the average life expectancy of a Chinese cab driver is only 35 seconds? You wouldn't? Okay, its actually 43 seconds.)
To hail a cab here one steps dangerously close to the street, somehow managing to keep both feet on the sidewalk while levitating at a 45 degree angle. Face the oncoming traffic and elevate the right arm, extending the arm at the same angle as the body, palm down, fingers fixed together, then wave said fingers, keeping the thumb attached to the palm. This won't actually get you a cab but they will give you style points which can be redeemed for valuable prizes should you survive your ride. Once a cab recognizes you and pulls toward you (bear in mind, it doesn't matter which direction the cab was traveling, if they decide to provide you a ride, they'll make a "Ueee" regardless of what's coming--remember the suicide hot line connection from earlier? Apply here!), make sure you "claim" the cab. Chinese little ladies can come from no where and jump into the taxi while you're detaching your formerly firmly-planted-feet from the curb.
Upon entering your newly acquired taxi, check the picture on the license with the actual driver. If they don't match, know the driver pictured on the license has: 1) taken the day off (not likely); 2) come down with the swine flu and allowed his semi-comatose cousin to fill in; 3) had a face lift; 4) entered the witness protection program; 5) actually committed suicide. At this point you have the choice of continuing with the ride (recommended) or bailing from a moving vehicle (not recommended).
It's highly recommended that you spend the remainder of your ride with "every head bowed and every eye closed." Pray as if your life depends on it--BECAUSE IT DOES! (I'm writing this while riding in a taxi--I've got to pray. If I survive the ride, I'll blog more later.)
Monday, December 21, 2009
Cuisine Comments
We've been in China over 48 hours and have had ample opportunities to enjoy the delicies served by the Chinese restaurants. (For those of you who think P.F. Chang or Pei Wei is authentic Chinese, well, have I got a surprise for you!) We've had our taste buds standing and saluting the chefs. Sunday we were thrilled with a fried green bean dish that was unbelievably good. Super seasonings and baby shrimp were stir fried with the beans and they were just plain "slap your mama" good. We've enjoyed water buffalo served in a couple of different ways, both very tasty. (Water buffalo really does taste good, but it's not always tender. The tenderness is in direct proportion to the age--my opinion. The water buffalo we've had has been beyond adolescence but not quite to the geriatric stage.) The Chinese also do miraculous things with chicken, often combining the chicken with peanuts or cashews or ?????
Today we had water buffalo with stir friend cucumbers and another vegetable to be named later. (Honestly, I don't know what to name it. If it's green and growing, the Chinese find a way to cook and eat it. But then, that describes just about everything that grows here. If it's alive and they can catch it, they'll find a way to cook and eat it.) Some time ago I heard the American packing houses (that's a fancy term for slaughter houses) described as using everything in a pig except the squeal. I swear the Chinese have probably found a way to also use the squeal. Of course, when you're on the hook to feed 1.3 billion people, you have to be creative and inventive or adaptive--whatever the case might be.
Which brings me to the intent of my evening's ramblings. Tonight Brigitte was feeding Trinity some baby food she purchased locally. Brigitte's a great cook and provides healthy and nutritous meals for her family. Trinity's at that age when she is beginning to eat food off the table but still needs some baby food. Guess what Brigitte was feeding Trinity? Go ahead, take a guess.
Nope, that wasn't it. Try again.
Missed it again. Since you're giving up, I'll let you in on the contents of her baby food jar. Get ready--it was brocelli with chicken BONE paste. That's right, chicken bone. (Told you they use everything here.) Trinity was scarfing it down. Brigitte explained that it is a great source of protein and since it has been ground into a paste, Trinity can consume and digest the food.
Based upon my previous experience in Chinese dining, my goal for this trip is to avoid eating fish heads and chicken feet--both delacicies for the Chinese palate. Call me narrow minded, call me finickie, call me squeemish, just call me for dinner where the buffalo roam and the cucumbers are grilled. I'll be quite fine with that.
In the interest of full disclosure, the bread machine just went off and I'm luxurating in the smell of freshly baked bread. I'll have a piece of fresh, hot bread and soak it in organic honey. How's that for having it rough?
Today we had water buffalo with stir friend cucumbers and another vegetable to be named later. (Honestly, I don't know what to name it. If it's green and growing, the Chinese find a way to cook and eat it. But then, that describes just about everything that grows here. If it's alive and they can catch it, they'll find a way to cook and eat it.) Some time ago I heard the American packing houses (that's a fancy term for slaughter houses) described as using everything in a pig except the squeal. I swear the Chinese have probably found a way to also use the squeal. Of course, when you're on the hook to feed 1.3 billion people, you have to be creative and inventive or adaptive--whatever the case might be.
Which brings me to the intent of my evening's ramblings. Tonight Brigitte was feeding Trinity some baby food she purchased locally. Brigitte's a great cook and provides healthy and nutritous meals for her family. Trinity's at that age when she is beginning to eat food off the table but still needs some baby food. Guess what Brigitte was feeding Trinity? Go ahead, take a guess.
Nope, that wasn't it. Try again.
Missed it again. Since you're giving up, I'll let you in on the contents of her baby food jar. Get ready--it was brocelli with chicken BONE paste. That's right, chicken bone. (Told you they use everything here.) Trinity was scarfing it down. Brigitte explained that it is a great source of protein and since it has been ground into a paste, Trinity can consume and digest the food.
Based upon my previous experience in Chinese dining, my goal for this trip is to avoid eating fish heads and chicken feet--both delacicies for the Chinese palate. Call me narrow minded, call me finickie, call me squeemish, just call me for dinner where the buffalo roam and the cucumbers are grilled. I'll be quite fine with that.
In the interest of full disclosure, the bread machine just went off and I'm luxurating in the smell of freshly baked bread. I'll have a piece of fresh, hot bread and soak it in organic honey. How's that for having it rough?
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Christmas in China
China is a fascinating study in contrasts. While the current government has been in power for 60 years, the prevailing culture is about 5,000 years old. For centuries China was a closed country (witnessed by the Great Wall of China). Today it is an emerging nation and rapidly becoming the leading economy in the world. Buildings are being erected at the speed of greased lightening. The architecture of the new buildings is contemporary and often imaginative. It's apparent that China wants to present itself as new and "hip." In many ways it is borrowing concepts from the West, especially the USA.
Which brings me to my latest installment in blogger space. Today we went out for lunch. (We've actually been in our city for over 24 hours, but the first 15 don't count because we were in the jet lag induced trance. Think Indiana Jones in the second movie when he was forced to drink that concoction that placed him in a trance and you get an idea of our jet lag induced trance, although I don't think I tried to remove any one's heart--but I digress. I mention this because today I actually began to notice things.) Today we went out for lunch. We went to Grace's favorite restaurant and the food was fabulous. But here's the funny part. The servers at the restaurant all wore hats that kind of resembled Elf hats. They were a shade of red with white trim, but the red had some kind of funky design. They are adapted from the West with an Eastern flair. I guffawed (don't know what that means but think it sounds clever here) at the hat the guy wore who brought the food from the kitchen. It was a--uhhh, it was a--ummmm, it was a form of a Christmas cowboy hat made of plastic. Oh, did I mention it is a blow up hat? Really, it was a blow up hat, you know, like the blow up plastic pool you get for kids. It was red and white with the brim and all. The poor lad who had to wear it even had it on sideways. It's a good thing I didn't have any food in my mouth when he first came out or else I probably would have spewed food across the table.
China also loves American music. We've heard Christmas carols (in English) in the airports and in the stores. Today's restaurant was playing Frank Sinatra's music. If I'd still been in the jet lag induced trance I would have thought we were eating in China town in San Francisco instead of actually being in China.
Perry Como sang "Oh there's no place like home for the holidays," but he obviously had never spent a Chrismas in China. I think it's pretty special to be here with family. Of course, if you've been following this blog very long, you know I started it to keep family and friends updated on Judy's cancer. To actually be here now with her cancer surgery and radiation behind her/us is nothing short of miraculous. So, with apologies to Perry, I'll have to say (at least for 2009), "Oh there's no place like China for Christmas when you're wife has survived a cancer scare." (Okay, there's no rhyme or rhythm in the lyrics, but get over it. It's the truth.)
Which brings me to my latest installment in blogger space. Today we went out for lunch. (We've actually been in our city for over 24 hours, but the first 15 don't count because we were in the jet lag induced trance. Think Indiana Jones in the second movie when he was forced to drink that concoction that placed him in a trance and you get an idea of our jet lag induced trance, although I don't think I tried to remove any one's heart--but I digress. I mention this because today I actually began to notice things.) Today we went out for lunch. We went to Grace's favorite restaurant and the food was fabulous. But here's the funny part. The servers at the restaurant all wore hats that kind of resembled Elf hats. They were a shade of red with white trim, but the red had some kind of funky design. They are adapted from the West with an Eastern flair. I guffawed (don't know what that means but think it sounds clever here) at the hat the guy wore who brought the food from the kitchen. It was a--uhhh, it was a--ummmm, it was a form of a Christmas cowboy hat made of plastic. Oh, did I mention it is a blow up hat? Really, it was a blow up hat, you know, like the blow up plastic pool you get for kids. It was red and white with the brim and all. The poor lad who had to wear it even had it on sideways. It's a good thing I didn't have any food in my mouth when he first came out or else I probably would have spewed food across the table.
China also loves American music. We've heard Christmas carols (in English) in the airports and in the stores. Today's restaurant was playing Frank Sinatra's music. If I'd still been in the jet lag induced trance I would have thought we were eating in China town in San Francisco instead of actually being in China.
Perry Como sang "Oh there's no place like home for the holidays," but he obviously had never spent a Chrismas in China. I think it's pretty special to be here with family. Of course, if you've been following this blog very long, you know I started it to keep family and friends updated on Judy's cancer. To actually be here now with her cancer surgery and radiation behind her/us is nothing short of miraculous. So, with apologies to Perry, I'll have to say (at least for 2009), "Oh there's no place like China for Christmas when you're wife has survived a cancer scare." (Okay, there's no rhyme or rhythm in the lyrics, but get over it. It's the truth.)
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Made it
Reader's Digest version: We made it safely to China WITH all our bags.
Expanded (and verbose) version:
Let me set the record straight--international travel is NOT for the faint of heart or the feeble of body, mind and spirit. Since this blogger is feeble in body, mind and spirit, the past 35 hours have been challenging. Actually this has been one of our easiest trips. What originally frustrated us when we booked passage proved to be a blessing in disguise.
When we set out to purchase passage to China we wanted the cheapest way possible. However, we decided against a slow-boat-to-China passage since we would still be in route TO China when we needed to be back at work in the good ole USA. So, our options for economical travel were restricted. Next best option was to use some Rapid Reward tickets from wonderful Southwest Airlines. But again, we faced some restrictions since Southwest doesn't fly into China. (Actually, one of the flight attendants told me they would be glad to fly us into China but they would make 150 stops along the way and couldn't get us there until June. And as much as I love their peanuts, eating only peanuts for 6 months didn't seem like a reasonable gastronomical plan either.) So we began the search to transit via economy and convenience and came up with a plan. We'd use our Rapid Rewards to fly as far as LAX (that's traveleze for Los Angeles International Airport) and use another carrier for the rest of the flight. We used a travel agent out of Springfield, Missouri to help us, which she did. She booked us on Air China, departing LAX at 12:40 A.M., December 18. (Yep, that's 12:40 IN THE MORNING. Yes, you heard me right, just shortly after midnight.)
Okay, we had a departure date and time. Next, booking flights on good ole Southwest using our Rapid Rewards. This got tricky. The only flights available had us leaving LBB (another travel shorthand for Lubbock International Airport) December 17 at 6:30 A.M. (WHAT? LEAVE LUBBOCK ON THE RED EYE, ARRIVE LAX @ 10:00 A.M. LOCAL TIME, AND NOT FLY OUT UNTIL NEARLY 15 HOURS LATER!) To save hundreds of dollars, we accepted this arrangement.
Here's the good part. We decided to see if we could book a room at a nearby hotel in Los Angeles and rest during the day. We did get a room at the Crowne Plaza for our bid price of $50.00. This was a blessing and allowed us to get some sleep and a shower before begining our long trek west.
You'd think flying out of an airport at 12:40 in the morning would leave you plenty of space to operate. I mean, how many people could possible fly out at 12:40 IN THE MORNING? Turns out to be a number roughly equivalent to the population of Alaska and Arkansas COMBINED! We arrived at LAX about 3 hours before our flight was to leave. YES, 3 WHOLE HOURS EARLY. We barely made the flight. (Truth in advertising kicks in here: we actually made it with about 20 minutes to spare, but for international travel, that's making it by the skin of our teeth.) It seems that LAX has only two working x-ray machines for all the luggage needing a health screening prior to being loaded into the belly of the beasts that would deposit them (hopefully) at their intended destination. After checking in at Air China without any lines, we developed the false hope that all the other 300,000 or so people in the airport would not be a hinderance to our luxurous and brief sojourn to the gate for departure. ONCE AGAIN--WRONG! It seems that the TSA, with limited funds for operations, had opted to only have 2 x-ray machines in the terminal. We waited in line for about 40 minutes to drop off our luggage. We next waited about 30 minutes to be examined by the TSA agent conducting an inquiry into the legitimacy of your passport and boarding pass. Upon successfully satisfying his critrical stare, we waited another 25 minutes to be body screened by the TSA. After successfully surviving the screening, we made our short trek to the gate area.
Pardon me, I just nodded off to sleep while writing (like you do whenever you read my postings)FOR THE 15th time. Guess I'd better grab some shut eye while the grabbing is good. I'll post more after a little sleep.
Expanded (and verbose) version:
Let me set the record straight--international travel is NOT for the faint of heart or the feeble of body, mind and spirit. Since this blogger is feeble in body, mind and spirit, the past 35 hours have been challenging. Actually this has been one of our easiest trips. What originally frustrated us when we booked passage proved to be a blessing in disguise.
When we set out to purchase passage to China we wanted the cheapest way possible. However, we decided against a slow-boat-to-China passage since we would still be in route TO China when we needed to be back at work in the good ole USA. So, our options for economical travel were restricted. Next best option was to use some Rapid Reward tickets from wonderful Southwest Airlines. But again, we faced some restrictions since Southwest doesn't fly into China. (Actually, one of the flight attendants told me they would be glad to fly us into China but they would make 150 stops along the way and couldn't get us there until June. And as much as I love their peanuts, eating only peanuts for 6 months didn't seem like a reasonable gastronomical plan either.) So we began the search to transit via economy and convenience and came up with a plan. We'd use our Rapid Rewards to fly as far as LAX (that's traveleze for Los Angeles International Airport) and use another carrier for the rest of the flight. We used a travel agent out of Springfield, Missouri to help us, which she did. She booked us on Air China, departing LAX at 12:40 A.M., December 18. (Yep, that's 12:40 IN THE MORNING. Yes, you heard me right, just shortly after midnight.)
Okay, we had a departure date and time. Next, booking flights on good ole Southwest using our Rapid Rewards. This got tricky. The only flights available had us leaving LBB (another travel shorthand for Lubbock International Airport) December 17 at 6:30 A.M. (WHAT? LEAVE LUBBOCK ON THE RED EYE, ARRIVE LAX @ 10:00 A.M. LOCAL TIME, AND NOT FLY OUT UNTIL NEARLY 15 HOURS LATER!) To save hundreds of dollars, we accepted this arrangement.
Here's the good part. We decided to see if we could book a room at a nearby hotel in Los Angeles and rest during the day. We did get a room at the Crowne Plaza for our bid price of $50.00. This was a blessing and allowed us to get some sleep and a shower before begining our long trek west.
You'd think flying out of an airport at 12:40 in the morning would leave you plenty of space to operate. I mean, how many people could possible fly out at 12:40 IN THE MORNING? Turns out to be a number roughly equivalent to the population of Alaska and Arkansas COMBINED! We arrived at LAX about 3 hours before our flight was to leave. YES, 3 WHOLE HOURS EARLY. We barely made the flight. (Truth in advertising kicks in here: we actually made it with about 20 minutes to spare, but for international travel, that's making it by the skin of our teeth.) It seems that LAX has only two working x-ray machines for all the luggage needing a health screening prior to being loaded into the belly of the beasts that would deposit them (hopefully) at their intended destination. After checking in at Air China without any lines, we developed the false hope that all the other 300,000 or so people in the airport would not be a hinderance to our luxurous and brief sojourn to the gate for departure. ONCE AGAIN--WRONG! It seems that the TSA, with limited funds for operations, had opted to only have 2 x-ray machines in the terminal. We waited in line for about 40 minutes to drop off our luggage. We next waited about 30 minutes to be examined by the TSA agent conducting an inquiry into the legitimacy of your passport and boarding pass. Upon successfully satisfying his critrical stare, we waited another 25 minutes to be body screened by the TSA. After successfully surviving the screening, we made our short trek to the gate area.
Pardon me, I just nodded off to sleep while writing (like you do whenever you read my postings)FOR THE 15th time. Guess I'd better grab some shut eye while the grabbing is good. I'll post more after a little sleep.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
What a decade
Much will be written the next few days trying to summarize this decade. It began with “those who name such things” trying to decide what to call the decade that began with a double zero. Some suggested it would be the “double oughts.” Of course, we should have realized it would be a difficult decade because it came with the terrible threat of Y2K. I remember driving by a United Grocery Store on New Year’s Eve, 1999, and seeing the store crammed with people stocking up for the end of the world. What a crock!
This decade may well be called the “ought ohs.” It began with the threat of the computer virus (afore mentioned Y2K) and ends with another scary set of letters and numbers: H1N1. One year into the decade we had 9-1-1, which brought our nation to a stop for a while and wrecked our economy. With one year left in the decade, we had another financial meltdown with the collapse of our banking and auto industries, just to name a few. Many of us, myself included, lost enough money in the two nose-dives of the stock market to purchase one of Tiger Wood’s estates predicted to be on the market soon. (O.K., I didn’t really loose that much money, but the crashes have sure threatened my retirement. I still can retire following my next 6 birthdays IF I only have birthdays every 7 years.)
When the decade began all three of our children were married and we had one grandchild. Today, all three of our children are still married to their same spouses (quite an accomplishment in today’s world) and we have 9 grandchildren. Along the way we buried one grandchild—Riley May Gerlt, born June 30, 2002, and died July 1, 2002. We began the decade with all four of our parents—in 2006 we buried Judy’s dad (February) and a little later, my mom (June). Pop’s lungs were wearing thin plus the few other—actually several other—ailments finally silenced the man. With Mom it was the “C” bomb. We learned November 8, 2005, that mom had brain cancer. She lasted another six-and-a-half months. The surviving spouses have adapted very well and we are so proud of them.
When the decade began I was starting my 7th year as the senior pastor of a large church just finishing the first phase of a total relocation project. Three years later following a couple of property debacles and staff fiascos, I did the unthinkable. I resigned. If you had told me two decades earlier that I would one day walk away from ministry, I would have questioned your judgment. But there came a time when I was just plain tired of being used as a punching bag. (That’s one of the problems of having the buck stop at your desk. Not all our problems were my fault. In fact, many of our problems were the result of committees making decisions contrary to my leadership. But when you’re the leader, you take the blame.) Call it cowardice or weakness if you will—I called it survival. The next two years found me as a business consultant and medical equipment salesman. I became more familiar with airline schedules, air ports, rental cars and time-delayed travel than I was with my wife. Fortunately, a loving body of people bound together by a common bond and a unique name (Bacon Heights) loved me back into ministry.
This decade is ending with another “C” bomb entering our lives. Judy was diagnosed with breast cancer August 21, the day before our 39th wedding anniversary. Now, four months later, she’s had two surgeries, 20 radiation sessions, and will begin five years of hormone therapy. We have every reason to believe this “bomb” has been defused and will not return. We’re learning to hold our moments together as precious.
In two weeks we begin a new decade. Just as no one could have predicted all that happened in the ought-ohs, no one can predict what will happen in the teens. But this much I do know. The same God who brought us through the troubled and troubling ought-ohs will also see us through the teens (and twenties and thirties…). The past is—well, past. Historians will have plenty to write and heaven help the future students who will have to study and absorb all the things that happened in the ought-ohs. What I’m excited about is the future. I believe our best days are ahead of us.
Tomorrow Judy and I leave for East Asia. We’ll be spending Christmas and New Year’s Day abroad. We’re excited about having time with our kids and grandkids. We’re less than excited about the 35 hour travel time and resultant jet lag. We’re excited about eating dim sung and noodles; not excited about chicken feet and fish heads.
Check back frequently. I plan to ramble a lot over the next two weeks. If nothing else, this blog spot can serve as a case study for psychology students looking for clinical trials. Talk to you soon.
This decade may well be called the “ought ohs.” It began with the threat of the computer virus (afore mentioned Y2K) and ends with another scary set of letters and numbers: H1N1. One year into the decade we had 9-1-1, which brought our nation to a stop for a while and wrecked our economy. With one year left in the decade, we had another financial meltdown with the collapse of our banking and auto industries, just to name a few. Many of us, myself included, lost enough money in the two nose-dives of the stock market to purchase one of Tiger Wood’s estates predicted to be on the market soon. (O.K., I didn’t really loose that much money, but the crashes have sure threatened my retirement. I still can retire following my next 6 birthdays IF I only have birthdays every 7 years.)
When the decade began all three of our children were married and we had one grandchild. Today, all three of our children are still married to their same spouses (quite an accomplishment in today’s world) and we have 9 grandchildren. Along the way we buried one grandchild—Riley May Gerlt, born June 30, 2002, and died July 1, 2002. We began the decade with all four of our parents—in 2006 we buried Judy’s dad (February) and a little later, my mom (June). Pop’s lungs were wearing thin plus the few other—actually several other—ailments finally silenced the man. With Mom it was the “C” bomb. We learned November 8, 2005, that mom had brain cancer. She lasted another six-and-a-half months. The surviving spouses have adapted very well and we are so proud of them.
When the decade began I was starting my 7th year as the senior pastor of a large church just finishing the first phase of a total relocation project. Three years later following a couple of property debacles and staff fiascos, I did the unthinkable. I resigned. If you had told me two decades earlier that I would one day walk away from ministry, I would have questioned your judgment. But there came a time when I was just plain tired of being used as a punching bag. (That’s one of the problems of having the buck stop at your desk. Not all our problems were my fault. In fact, many of our problems were the result of committees making decisions contrary to my leadership. But when you’re the leader, you take the blame.) Call it cowardice or weakness if you will—I called it survival. The next two years found me as a business consultant and medical equipment salesman. I became more familiar with airline schedules, air ports, rental cars and time-delayed travel than I was with my wife. Fortunately, a loving body of people bound together by a common bond and a unique name (Bacon Heights) loved me back into ministry.
This decade is ending with another “C” bomb entering our lives. Judy was diagnosed with breast cancer August 21, the day before our 39th wedding anniversary. Now, four months later, she’s had two surgeries, 20 radiation sessions, and will begin five years of hormone therapy. We have every reason to believe this “bomb” has been defused and will not return. We’re learning to hold our moments together as precious.
In two weeks we begin a new decade. Just as no one could have predicted all that happened in the ought-ohs, no one can predict what will happen in the teens. But this much I do know. The same God who brought us through the troubled and troubling ought-ohs will also see us through the teens (and twenties and thirties…). The past is—well, past. Historians will have plenty to write and heaven help the future students who will have to study and absorb all the things that happened in the ought-ohs. What I’m excited about is the future. I believe our best days are ahead of us.
Tomorrow Judy and I leave for East Asia. We’ll be spending Christmas and New Year’s Day abroad. We’re excited about having time with our kids and grandkids. We’re less than excited about the 35 hour travel time and resultant jet lag. We’re excited about eating dim sung and noodles; not excited about chicken feet and fish heads.
Check back frequently. I plan to ramble a lot over the next two weeks. If nothing else, this blog spot can serve as a case study for psychology students looking for clinical trials. Talk to you soon.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Blindsided
To quote Kermit the Frog, "Times fun when you're having flies." (O.K., I don't think Kermit actually said that, but he could have.) It's been a whirlwind these three plus weeks since I last posted. As I write, it is Thursday, December 10th, and Judy FINISHES her radiation TOMORROW and will be home early afternoon TOMORROW. YEAH!!!!! One week from today we leave for Christmas in China. These weeks have been strange with Judy gone and the weekends have been insane trying to do everything we think should be done IN 3 DAYS.
Emotionally we've handled this cancer thing pretty well. Oh, we've had our moments, but they've been few. The disturbing thing is how the emotional moments come when least expected or most embarrassing. The latest happened the week prior to Thanksgiving. Judy was home for the weekend and we were sitting together in church--front row. Nick (our tremendous worship pastor) had scheduled a time when scriptures scrolled on the screen while he played piano music. Quiet moment, soft music--should have been an emotionally neutral moment. WRONG! I got blindsided. During the reading of scripture and the soft music, I realized how blessed we are to have found the tumor(s) so early (remember: early detection is the key to saving lives) and to have access to the finest treatment facility in the world. I also realized how often we'd prayed for our son to find favor with Chick-fil-A and God answered that one BIG TIME. Chad is in a brand new store--just opened Nov. 5th--in a growing location. He and Erin had their 4th child (our 9th grandchild) Nov. 7th and Macy is doing marvelously well. I also thought about our children in other places and how they are being cared for. I thought about all our grandchildren and how blessed we are. But I think it was the cancer care that got me. My eyes began watering and my nose was running. Yep, got blindsided in church.
As much as I hate to cry I really didn't mind this time. How can I not be grateful to God for His provision. And now, this forced separation is about to end and I'm excited. (If I can only survive the next week getting everything done before we head to LAX and points west--errr, I mean east. (We're going to go so far west that we'll actually be east. Go figure.)
It's my plan to post often during our trip. Please check back here regularly for update. Please leave comments.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Emotionally we've handled this cancer thing pretty well. Oh, we've had our moments, but they've been few. The disturbing thing is how the emotional moments come when least expected or most embarrassing. The latest happened the week prior to Thanksgiving. Judy was home for the weekend and we were sitting together in church--front row. Nick (our tremendous worship pastor) had scheduled a time when scriptures scrolled on the screen while he played piano music. Quiet moment, soft music--should have been an emotionally neutral moment. WRONG! I got blindsided. During the reading of scripture and the soft music, I realized how blessed we are to have found the tumor(s) so early (remember: early detection is the key to saving lives) and to have access to the finest treatment facility in the world. I also realized how often we'd prayed for our son to find favor with Chick-fil-A and God answered that one BIG TIME. Chad is in a brand new store--just opened Nov. 5th--in a growing location. He and Erin had their 4th child (our 9th grandchild) Nov. 7th and Macy is doing marvelously well. I also thought about our children in other places and how they are being cared for. I thought about all our grandchildren and how blessed we are. But I think it was the cancer care that got me. My eyes began watering and my nose was running. Yep, got blindsided in church.
As much as I hate to cry I really didn't mind this time. How can I not be grateful to God for His provision. And now, this forced separation is about to end and I'm excited. (If I can only survive the next week getting everything done before we head to LAX and points west--errr, I mean east. (We're going to go so far west that we'll actually be east. Go figure.)
It's my plan to post often during our trip. Please check back here regularly for update. Please leave comments.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
What a difference a week makes
One week ago we were hustling around, trying to get two days work done in only one, as we prepared for our visit to MD Anderson. We were hoping to come back with a plan of attack and news that we would be able to go to China for Chrismas.
One week later Judy is on day 3 of her radiation treatment. The wonderful folks at MDA are continuing with their greatness and are working on a plan to have her finished with radiation by December 11, instead of Dec. 14. YEAH MDA FOLKS! She was going to stay in Houston over that weekend and fly home Monday following treatment. Now, if things progress as hoped, she'll be home for good Friday, Dec. 11. I like this new plan.
One week later Judy is on day 3 of her radiation treatment. The wonderful folks at MDA are continuing with their greatness and are working on a plan to have her finished with radiation by December 11, instead of Dec. 14. YEAH MDA FOLKS! She was going to stay in Houston over that weekend and fly home Monday following treatment. Now, if things progress as hoped, she'll be home for good Friday, Dec. 11. I like this new plan.
Friday, November 13, 2009
New Day, New Info, New Plan
SUMMARY: Judy will begin radiation therapy at MD Anderson Monday. She will finish December 14.
EXPANDED COVERAGE:
Yesterday was a whirlwind day in Houston. We thought/hoped we’d come home with a game plan for Judy’s post-operative therapy. Did we ever! The appointments began with us thinking we’d have to miss our “Christmas in China” trip. Judy had hoped to delay radiation until after Christmas. Dr. Buchholz didn’t want to wait—he actually had Judy scheduled for a “simulation” on November 24. (The simulation is a meeting with the radiation team—highly technical—lasting several hours. During this time they simulate a radiation therapy and mark the areas to be radiated.) Radiation would begin soon after the simulation. When the good doctor realized we would be knocked out of the Christmas trip, he left the room and got busy. Upon returning he announced we could get in the required number of sessions (20) in time to make the trip. He also said they’d just had a cancellation for the simulation area and we would do the simulation NOW.
Judy will be receiving the Canadian Fractionation with Boost radiation. (Brace yourself, dear reader, for an extended explanation. Go get a cup of coffee—I’ll wait.) Standard protocol calls for 5 to 7 weeks of radiation. The Canadians, with their free-but-hard-to-get medical service couldn’t get the good ole government to fund 7 weeks of therapy. So the Canadians began to experiment (doesn’t that give you good, fuzzy feelings about the government being in the health care business) with innovative ways to get their cancer patients cured. [Confession: I’m more than a little intimidated about writing all this because Diane Johnston, APN, promised to review my blog to check for inaccuracies. I’M BEING GRADED BY A REAL LIVE MEDICAL EXPERT! HELP ME JESUS!] They finally discovered that by increasing the intensity of the radiation for each session they could diminish the number of sessions. (Standard protocol calls for 200 rads per session for 30 days. Canadian Fractionation calls for 265 rads for 16 days. But the highly intelligent folks at MD Anderson—people like Diane Johnston, APN, realized what the Canadians haven’t yet discovered which is that you actually need 20 sessions, not just 16. Thus, Judy is getting the Canadian Fractionation plus Boost {boost being an extra 4 sessions to give the therapy a boost}.) Their data for 15 years suggests no difference (for patients eligible for the Canadian Fractionation) between the patients who get 20 sessions at the increased intensity over the patients who get 30 doses in smaller proportions. (I told you to get coffee—you need the caffeine to be able to stay awake during the explanation. Wish it would get better—the explanation—but it probably won’t. Go get the second cup—wait, make that an espresso.) They don’t know about 30 years out, so this is still a little experimental in nature.
WARNING: more technical jargon to follow.
We still have a decision to make about chemotherapy. Judy’s medical oncologist, Dr. James Murray, told us about a new test we’ll willingly take. It’s called Oncotype DX and is a unique diagnostic breast cancer test that looks at the activity of 21 different genes (yawn) in a woman’s breast tumor tissue. The test measures the chances of that particular woman’s breast cancer returning and the likelihood of her benefiting from chemotherapy treatment. (Yawn! STOP IT—TAKE ANOTHER SIP OF YOUR ESPRESSO!) It will take about 3 weeks to get the results. If she’s in the high risk group, then we’re looking at strong chemotherapy. If she’s in the low risk group—no chemo. If she’s in the moderate risk—well, we’ll decide then, looking at the markers. We do know she will be taking a hormone therapy pill for the next five years. We’re hoping that’s all she has to do following radiation.
(THE TECHNICAL STUFF KEEPS COMING)
We’re also interested in still another test, a genetic test to see if she has the Brca gene (brca comes from breast cancer). Since Judy’s grandmother and cousin on her father’s side had breast cancer, and an uncle (that’s right, an UNCLE) died of breast cancer just two months ago, we think we need to explore this test further. At some point during her 4 weeks in Houston, she’ll meet with the Genetics Department at MDA to fill out a questionnaire to see if she should take the test. This will have implications for our children and grandchildren.
(BRACE YOURSELF, HERE COMES THE SLIGHTLY DISTURBING NEWS)
One bit of eye-opening news came yesterday. We thought that Judy’s chances of having her cancer recur were very slight following successful surgery. The glitter came off that rose a little. As it turns out, based upon the data they’ve collected, she has a 1 in 4 chance of the cancer recurring within the next 5 years IF WE DO NOTHING MORE THAN SURGERY. Obviously we’re going to do more than surgery. We’re going to do all we can to keep her cancer free.
So my sweet wife is in full panic mode—not really, just running at mach one with her hair on fire—trying to meet work deadlines before she begins the “exile in Houston.” She’s planning to come home on weekends and I’ll go there for Thanksgiving (already got my tickets). We’ll adjust and before we know it, this will just be a memory. (CONGRATULATIONS DEAR READER, YOU MADE IT TO THE END!)
EXPANDED COVERAGE:
Yesterday was a whirlwind day in Houston. We thought/hoped we’d come home with a game plan for Judy’s post-operative therapy. Did we ever! The appointments began with us thinking we’d have to miss our “Christmas in China” trip. Judy had hoped to delay radiation until after Christmas. Dr. Buchholz didn’t want to wait—he actually had Judy scheduled for a “simulation” on November 24. (The simulation is a meeting with the radiation team—highly technical—lasting several hours. During this time they simulate a radiation therapy and mark the areas to be radiated.) Radiation would begin soon after the simulation. When the good doctor realized we would be knocked out of the Christmas trip, he left the room and got busy. Upon returning he announced we could get in the required number of sessions (20) in time to make the trip. He also said they’d just had a cancellation for the simulation area and we would do the simulation NOW.
Judy will be receiving the Canadian Fractionation with Boost radiation. (Brace yourself, dear reader, for an extended explanation. Go get a cup of coffee—I’ll wait.) Standard protocol calls for 5 to 7 weeks of radiation. The Canadians, with their free-but-hard-to-get medical service couldn’t get the good ole government to fund 7 weeks of therapy. So the Canadians began to experiment (doesn’t that give you good, fuzzy feelings about the government being in the health care business) with innovative ways to get their cancer patients cured. [Confession: I’m more than a little intimidated about writing all this because Diane Johnston, APN, promised to review my blog to check for inaccuracies. I’M BEING GRADED BY A REAL LIVE MEDICAL EXPERT! HELP ME JESUS!] They finally discovered that by increasing the intensity of the radiation for each session they could diminish the number of sessions. (Standard protocol calls for 200 rads per session for 30 days. Canadian Fractionation calls for 265 rads for 16 days. But the highly intelligent folks at MD Anderson—people like Diane Johnston, APN, realized what the Canadians haven’t yet discovered which is that you actually need 20 sessions, not just 16. Thus, Judy is getting the Canadian Fractionation plus Boost {boost being an extra 4 sessions to give the therapy a boost}.) Their data for 15 years suggests no difference (for patients eligible for the Canadian Fractionation) between the patients who get 20 sessions at the increased intensity over the patients who get 30 doses in smaller proportions. (I told you to get coffee—you need the caffeine to be able to stay awake during the explanation. Wish it would get better—the explanation—but it probably won’t. Go get the second cup—wait, make that an espresso.) They don’t know about 30 years out, so this is still a little experimental in nature.
WARNING: more technical jargon to follow.
We still have a decision to make about chemotherapy. Judy’s medical oncologist, Dr. James Murray, told us about a new test we’ll willingly take. It’s called Oncotype DX and is a unique diagnostic breast cancer test that looks at the activity of 21 different genes (yawn) in a woman’s breast tumor tissue. The test measures the chances of that particular woman’s breast cancer returning and the likelihood of her benefiting from chemotherapy treatment. (Yawn! STOP IT—TAKE ANOTHER SIP OF YOUR ESPRESSO!) It will take about 3 weeks to get the results. If she’s in the high risk group, then we’re looking at strong chemotherapy. If she’s in the low risk group—no chemo. If she’s in the moderate risk—well, we’ll decide then, looking at the markers. We do know she will be taking a hormone therapy pill for the next five years. We’re hoping that’s all she has to do following radiation.
(THE TECHNICAL STUFF KEEPS COMING)
We’re also interested in still another test, a genetic test to see if she has the Brca gene (brca comes from breast cancer). Since Judy’s grandmother and cousin on her father’s side had breast cancer, and an uncle (that’s right, an UNCLE) died of breast cancer just two months ago, we think we need to explore this test further. At some point during her 4 weeks in Houston, she’ll meet with the Genetics Department at MDA to fill out a questionnaire to see if she should take the test. This will have implications for our children and grandchildren.
(BRACE YOURSELF, HERE COMES THE SLIGHTLY DISTURBING NEWS)
One bit of eye-opening news came yesterday. We thought that Judy’s chances of having her cancer recur were very slight following successful surgery. The glitter came off that rose a little. As it turns out, based upon the data they’ve collected, she has a 1 in 4 chance of the cancer recurring within the next 5 years IF WE DO NOTHING MORE THAN SURGERY. Obviously we’re going to do more than surgery. We’re going to do all we can to keep her cancer free.
So my sweet wife is in full panic mode—not really, just running at mach one with her hair on fire—trying to meet work deadlines before she begins the “exile in Houston.” She’s planning to come home on weekends and I’ll go there for Thanksgiving (already got my tickets). We’ll adjust and before we know it, this will just be a memory. (CONGRATULATIONS DEAR READER, YOU MADE IT TO THE END!)
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sing it Willie
"On the road again, just can't wait to get back on the road again...." Willie Nelson's song has almost become our theme these past two weeks. Last week we made two (count them, 2) road trips to Oklahoma City. Monday evening we drove to Yukon for the dedication of Chad's new Chick-fil-A restaurant. Tuesday morning we drove back to Lubbock. Friday evening we drove to Yukon--arriving around 10:30 P.M.--for the birth of our ninth (yep, that's right 9--again, count them folks--9) grandchild. Macy Gerlt was born Saturday morning, November 7th at 8:56 A.M. (She weighed in at 7 pounds, 9.56 ounces and is 19 inches long--oh, and she's beautiful.) Saturday evening we drove home, arriving Lubbock shortly after 11:00 P.M.
Tonight we fly to Houston for three appointments tomorrow. We'll meet with the radiologist, oncologist, and surgeon. We'll fly home tomorrow night, hopefully with a game plan for keeping Judy cancer free. More news to come.
Tonight we fly to Houston for three appointments tomorrow. We'll meet with the radiologist, oncologist, and surgeon. We'll fly home tomorrow night, hopefully with a game plan for keeping Judy cancer free. More news to come.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
CANCER FREE
The wait has paid off and the weight is gone. We got the word a few minutes ago via Judy's brother via our nephew (the M.D. Anderson radiologist). Here's what the report said:
Results look great. 3 mm low grade cancer removed with free and adequate
margins (7.5 mm from superior edge).
This officially confirms what we have believed for over a week--Judy is CANCER FREE!!!!!!! We return to Houston for an appointment the 12th to consider post operative therapy to help her stay CANCER FREE. Thank you for your prayers and concern. Check back here from time to time--I've become addicted to writing. (Probably just proves I need therapy.)
Results look great. 3 mm low grade cancer removed with free and adequate
margins (7.5 mm from superior edge).
This officially confirms what we have believed for over a week--Judy is CANCER FREE!!!!!!! We return to Houston for an appointment the 12th to consider post operative therapy to help her stay CANCER FREE. Thank you for your prayers and concern. Check back here from time to time--I've become addicted to writing. (Probably just proves I need therapy.)
Waiting and Celebrating
This morning is a study in contrasting emotions. We're waiting on word from M.D. Anderson concerning Judy's pathology report. We want to hear "all clear" and celebrate her being cancer free. At the same time, we're celebrating with our son.
About 5 years ago Chad moved his family from Crane, Texas, to Arlington. Chad had investigated Chick-fil-A and believed it to be a company he'd like to partner with. They made the move, basically, by faith. He had no long-term promise when he moved. However, our son worked hard and learned everything he could. Chick-fil-A provided training in Atlanta to qualify Chad to be an interim operator for troubled stores. He packed up his family in their mini-van and moved to Reading, Pennsylvania, to manage a store, not knowing how long they'd be there. He became the owner/operator of the Chick-fil-A in Crossroads Mall, in Oklahoma City. No one knew the mall was in financial trouble. All the anchor stores moved out within 6 months of Chad's getting the store. Business bottomed out.
During these last 5 years our constant prayer has been that Chad would find favor with Chick-fil-A. He did. Today is the grand opening of his new restaurant in Yukon, Oklahoma. It's a state-of-the-art restaurant located in the fastest growing county in Oklahoma (and one of the fastest growing counties in the U.S.). He's positioned to do well. Five long years of working for very low wages is paying off today.
So today is a study in contrasts. Waiting for news that will have an effect on our lives--celebrating news that is effecting our family. What a day!
About 5 years ago Chad moved his family from Crane, Texas, to Arlington. Chad had investigated Chick-fil-A and believed it to be a company he'd like to partner with. They made the move, basically, by faith. He had no long-term promise when he moved. However, our son worked hard and learned everything he could. Chick-fil-A provided training in Atlanta to qualify Chad to be an interim operator for troubled stores. He packed up his family in their mini-van and moved to Reading, Pennsylvania, to manage a store, not knowing how long they'd be there. He became the owner/operator of the Chick-fil-A in Crossroads Mall, in Oklahoma City. No one knew the mall was in financial trouble. All the anchor stores moved out within 6 months of Chad's getting the store. Business bottomed out.
During these last 5 years our constant prayer has been that Chad would find favor with Chick-fil-A. He did. Today is the grand opening of his new restaurant in Yukon, Oklahoma. It's a state-of-the-art restaurant located in the fastest growing county in Oklahoma (and one of the fastest growing counties in the U.S.). He's positioned to do well. Five long years of working for very low wages is paying off today.
So today is a study in contrasts. Waiting for news that will have an effect on our lives--celebrating news that is effecting our family. What a day!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Frustration
Apparently M.D. Anderson attempted to contact Judy earlier this afternoon while she was in a meeting. She rushed out of the meeting but couldn't make connections. Earlier this year we got her a new cell phone--a smart phone--that would enable her to connect to the internet as well as receive her office e-mail. What a disappointment. She chose the LG Incite phone. It's not a smart phone, it's a STUPID phone. We've had nothing but trouble with this phone but if we take it back for replacement--guess what--she gets another Incite. (I think the name was chosen because it's enough to incite a riot against the LG corporation.)
Oh, while I'm venting, I'm convinced the Windows Vista system stands for: Very Incompetent System Totally Annoying. (Take that, Microsoft!)
Judy's trying to make contact with M.D. Anderson but is getting voice mail. The hospital is incredible and we love it. However, because of it's size and the number of patients they serve, when you call you have to leave a message and be available when they call. So, this afternoon contains a little frustration.
Oh, while I'm venting, I'm convinced the Windows Vista system stands for: Very Incompetent System Totally Annoying. (Take that, Microsoft!)
Judy's trying to make contact with M.D. Anderson but is getting voice mail. The hospital is incredible and we love it. However, because of it's size and the number of patients they serve, when you call you have to leave a message and be available when they call. So, this afternoon contains a little frustration.
The Weight of Wait 2
When we were dismissed from M.D. Anderson a week ago Monday, they told us to begin calling the next Tuesday (8 days from dismissal) if we'd not heard from pathology. Yesterday was 8 days later, and we couldn't reach anyone. So, this morning we live with the weight of waiting. We're expecting a good report, but will breathe a sigh of relief when it's official. As soon as we hear anything, I'll post the results. Thank you for continuing to check here and to pray for us.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Back to Work
This Thursday morning Judy woke up refreshed and ready to tackle the world. O.K., maybe not the world, but at least her job. She is an amazing woman. God has been so good to us in the midst of all this craziness.
We're so used to cancer being a bully and usually fear the worst when we get hit with the "C-bomb." We all know people who didn't do well with cancer. My concern has been for our children, scattered over the world. They've not been privy to the doctors' expressions and upbeat attitude. They were not with us in the holding area prior to Judy's surgery Monday to hear us joking and laughing. They're just aware their mother has cancer. But Judy and I are extremely hopeful that this will be behind us soon. I don't think we're in denial about the cancer--we're fully aware of what would have happened had Judy not had the checkup and followed the doctor's concerns. We're also fully aware that we've discovered this thing early in it's development; have been aggressive in getting it out; will be aggressive in taking steps to preventing it's return. Bottom line: we sleep very peacefully at night and have clear minds during the day. Who could ask for more?
We're so used to cancer being a bully and usually fear the worst when we get hit with the "C-bomb." We all know people who didn't do well with cancer. My concern has been for our children, scattered over the world. They've not been privy to the doctors' expressions and upbeat attitude. They were not with us in the holding area prior to Judy's surgery Monday to hear us joking and laughing. They're just aware their mother has cancer. But Judy and I are extremely hopeful that this will be behind us soon. I don't think we're in denial about the cancer--we're fully aware of what would have happened had Judy not had the checkup and followed the doctor's concerns. We're also fully aware that we've discovered this thing early in it's development; have been aggressive in getting it out; will be aggressive in taking steps to preventing it's return. Bottom line: we sleep very peacefully at night and have clear minds during the day. Who could ask for more?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
HOME
We made it home in great shape. O.K., we had a small inconvenience. Our flight from Houston to Lubbock via Dallas was cancelled at the last minute. But Southwest is wonderful in their ability to adapt. They loaded us immediately onto another flight, which got us to Dallas. When we got there they continued the cancelled flight--got us right onto our plane and got us to Lubbock. Our luggage even made it with us. YEAH SOUTHWEST!!!!
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Fire Works vs. Prayer Works
July 4th is always an exciting time with the fireworks. But fireworks are expensive and, even though they make a big noise and a bright flash, only last a moment.
Prayerworks, on the other hand, are free (to us), often private, make no loud noise or bright flash, but work quietly and effectively.
This morning Judy bounced out of bed and headed for the shower. She feels great. It's impressive how well she is doing. We'll head back to Lubbock around noon, land at Preston Smith mid-afternoon, and return home. She's planning to return to work tomorrow. As we discussed her amazing progress, she commented how she can feel the effects of all the prayers offered on her behalf. So can I.
As the receipents of this prayer, we humbly say, "Thank you!" Your efforts on Judy's behalf (and mine) have reaped HUGE benefits. We are in your debt.
We've been amazed repeatedly through this ordeal at the working of the Lord and the graciousness of our friends. Thank you Lord, and thank you friends and family. (I'll blog again when we get home to share how strong Judy is feeling after the Houston traffic and flying in the "Company Jet."
Prayerworks, on the other hand, are free (to us), often private, make no loud noise or bright flash, but work quietly and effectively.
This morning Judy bounced out of bed and headed for the shower. She feels great. It's impressive how well she is doing. We'll head back to Lubbock around noon, land at Preston Smith mid-afternoon, and return home. She's planning to return to work tomorrow. As we discussed her amazing progress, she commented how she can feel the effects of all the prayers offered on her behalf. So can I.
As the receipents of this prayer, we humbly say, "Thank you!" Your efforts on Judy's behalf (and mine) have reaped HUGE benefits. We are in your debt.
We've been amazed repeatedly through this ordeal at the working of the Lord and the graciousness of our friends. Thank you Lord, and thank you friends and family. (I'll blog again when we get home to share how strong Judy is feeling after the Houston traffic and flying in the "Company Jet."
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tuesday afternoon
Judy got up this morning thinking we could go home today. Being the understanding and sympathetic husband that I am, I replied, "What are you thinking?" Actually, I mentioned that we would be wise to take it easy today and not overdo things. Being the submissive wife that she is, she agreed.
After spending the morning in bed--on the internet--we went out for lunch. She felt a little weak but was able to take sustenance. We had a relaxed lunch with her brother Barry at a nearby restaurant. When it was time to go, we walked outside and Judy spotted a store she had visited before and said, "I want to look for a necklace for the girls," and headed to the store. Barry and I got into our rental car and Barry commented, "I guess a woman would have to be on her deathbed before she'd stop shopping."
We've spent the afternoon relaxing. Judy said she thought she'd take a nap--and proceeded to spend 2 hours on the internet. She just now laid back for a nap and I was able to get my grubby hands on the computer again. She's trying to nap while I blog, but I think she's afraid of what I might write. I still have the upper hand on her--at least for the moment--because she can't drive yet today and doesn't want to drive in this Houston traffic. My life is safe--at least until we get back to Lubbock.
After spending the morning in bed--on the internet--we went out for lunch. She felt a little weak but was able to take sustenance. We had a relaxed lunch with her brother Barry at a nearby restaurant. When it was time to go, we walked outside and Judy spotted a store she had visited before and said, "I want to look for a necklace for the girls," and headed to the store. Barry and I got into our rental car and Barry commented, "I guess a woman would have to be on her deathbed before she'd stop shopping."
We've spent the afternoon relaxing. Judy said she thought she'd take a nap--and proceeded to spend 2 hours on the internet. She just now laid back for a nap and I was able to get my grubby hands on the computer again. She's trying to nap while I blog, but I think she's afraid of what I might write. I still have the upper hand on her--at least for the moment--because she can't drive yet today and doesn't want to drive in this Houston traffic. My life is safe--at least until we get back to Lubbock.
Comments made easy
When I set up this blog, I didn't realize it automatically restricted comments from anyone not having a Google account. Last night I found the magic button and changed this. Anyone can now comment and we welcome comments.
Better Living Through Chemistry
Thank God for drugs. Judy slept a lot last night. When we got home from the hospital she stayed awake long enough to eat a little and to talk to family. Anytime she got quiet, she went to sleep. She slept on the couch downstairs while I watched the pathetic Monday Night Football game between the inept Washington Redskins and the slightly better Philadelphia Eagles. (That game put me to sleep repeatedly as well.) I got her up around midnight and we went to bed. She slept soundly until 8:30 and got up feeling good. The pain medicine she got at the hospital made her really sleepy and sleep was what she needed. I'll have to hold her back today because she'll want to do more than she should.
We're so grateful to all our friends and family who prayed for her. The prayers have worked. She's not as bruised this morning as we feared she might be. Of course, bruising can intensify a few days post-op, but we're thrilled at how well she is doing this morning.
We're so grateful to all our friends and family who prayed for her. The prayers have worked. She's not as bruised this morning as we feared she might be. Of course, bruising can intensify a few days post-op, but we're thrilled at how well she is doing this morning.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Home
We were released from the hospital around 5:00--just in time for the evening (non)rush hour traffic con agua falla-from-the-sky. Barry, Sherry and Honor had Chinese food waiting for us. Judy enjoyed some egg-drop soup, a little chicken, and fell asleep with her face in the food. (I'd show you a picture, but it didn't actually happen, but could have.) She's still very sleepy, so am hoping she will rest the whole night. Actually, she's passed out on the couch even as I write. Thank God for pain medicine.
Surgeon's Report
Today at 3:30 Dr. Babiera reported on the surgery. She said this was the longest lumpectomy she’s performed. Judy had a big hematoma from the previous lumpectomy that had to be removed. She also removed the remaining cancer and enlarged the margins from the first surgery. We’ll have to wait for the report from the pathologists before we can officially declare her “cancer free.” (The report should be back no later than next Tuesday.) The doctor thinks she got it all, but cancer cells can be microscopic, totally undetectable by the human eye. Once again we wait. One week doesn’t seem like a long time—unless you’re trying to hold your breath OR wait for a pathology report.
At the moment we’re waiting for Judy to “wake up” from the anesthesia. (Didn’t think I could spell that did you? Neither did I but the spell check accepted it. Whoo-hoo!) We’ll go back to her brother and sister-in-law’s house and spend the next couple of days recuperating. I think it’s going to take a long time for her to awaken. She was having some pain from the surgery and the nurse gave her a pain shot. The nurse told her to “remember to breathe” because the pain killer causes the patient to go into a deep sleep and the oxygen regulating machine will beep if she breathes to shallow. At the moment, it’s the machine 17, Judy 3. My job is to awaken her every couple of minutes and tell her to breathe. (Finally a job that I’m qualified for. Oh wait, I’m more qualified to be the one sleeping, not the frequent waker.)
She had to stop taking anything by mouth at midnight last night. Her surgery wasn’t until 1:00. It’s now 4:30 and she’s finally getting a fake “Lord’s supper” (cranberry juice and saltines). She thinks it’s a gourmet meal—bless her heart.
Keep checking the blog. I’ll update it as I can. Occasionally I’ll have some real information.
Written at 4:00
At the moment we’re waiting for Judy to “wake up” from the anesthesia. (Didn’t think I could spell that did you? Neither did I but the spell check accepted it. Whoo-hoo!) We’ll go back to her brother and sister-in-law’s house and spend the next couple of days recuperating. I think it’s going to take a long time for her to awaken. She was having some pain from the surgery and the nurse gave her a pain shot. The nurse told her to “remember to breathe” because the pain killer causes the patient to go into a deep sleep and the oxygen regulating machine will beep if she breathes to shallow. At the moment, it’s the machine 17, Judy 3. My job is to awaken her every couple of minutes and tell her to breathe. (Finally a job that I’m qualified for. Oh wait, I’m more qualified to be the one sleeping, not the frequent waker.)
She had to stop taking anything by mouth at midnight last night. Her surgery wasn’t until 1:00. It’s now 4:30 and she’s finally getting a fake “Lord’s supper” (cranberry juice and saltines). She thinks it’s a gourmet meal—bless her heart.
Keep checking the blog. I’ll update it as I can. Occasionally I’ll have some real information.
Written at 4:00
Surgery
SUMMARY: We arrived arount 8:30 today for Judy's surgery. They first performed a needle localization procedure in which they did another MRI and literally placed a needle in the tumor. She had a needle sticking out of her breast for the 3 plus hours of waiting. They took her to surgery just a couple of minutes before 1:00 P.M. and told me it would take about 2 hours. As soon as I hear something and can get back online, I'll update this blog.
If you're bored and have time to kill, read on.
Houston is a city of--how can I describe this?--a city of quick starts and immediate stops. It all began last night when "Whiplash Wally" took us from the airport to get our rental car. Whiplash Wally is a safe driver, just not a smooth driver. Every time he placed the bus in motion, he jumped on the accelerator, causing the bus to jerk forward and giving us whiplash. He would stop just as quickly. Whiplash Wally was actually preparing us for Houston.
This morning we left Barry & Sherry's house about 7:40 A.M., just in time for the infamous (non)rush hour traffic. The traffic would be at a standstill, then all of a sudden, lanes would open and everyone would hit the accelerator and the "Houston 500" would begin (you know, the Houston 500 is similar to the Indianapolis 500 race except at the Indianapolis Speedway the racers don't take off as fast and, even though the travel in circles, they actually have forward motion). A newbee to the Houston 500 is given false hope--you know, that the race has actually begun once the traffic begins to flow. The breakneck start is almost immediately interrupted by the "slam-on-the-brakes-the-traffic-stopped-on-a-dime" ritual. The whole commute is executed in this manner. Anyone who cannot keep up with the arythmic pace is either killed, smashed, or banned to the shoulder.
This morning's commute was intensified by the rain. Not normal rain, but true-to-Houston's rhythm, would start like driving into a waterfall, then mysteriously quit like--like--like driving out of a waterfall. The wipers on the Houston cars have two speeds: faster-than-the-speed-of-sound or off.
We arrived at M.D. Anderson and continued the routine of hurry/stop. We checked in and Judy was immediately taken for the "cross your heart and hope to die or stick a needle in your--oh wait, it's eye, not boob"--never mind.
Judy was immediately take to the magical room where they stick a needle in places needles were not intended to go. At this moment, she was officially in the "on deck" circle. They invited me back to her holding cell--I mean waiting room. You won't believe what they placed over the needle. (Remember that the needle is sticking out of her right breast at the place where the doctor would operate.) Women talk about having a "C" cup or another letter of the alphabet. Judy had a----are your ready for this----she had a---you won't believe this---she had a--she's gonna kill me for writing this--she had a--this is too good to hold--she had a 16 ounce cup. That's right folks, M.D. Anderson, master of technology, used a styrofoam 16 ounce cup taped to her breast over the needle. (My life will be over as soon as Judy is alert enough to read this, but boy was it funny.) Madonna has nothing on my precious wife.
As you can guess, I'm in the waiting room, just waiting and writing and probably getting into trouble. I had promised to give updates throughout the day, but he holding cell--I mean waiting room had zero connectivity. I couldn't get text messages, phone calls, or the reprieve from the governor.
It's now 2:37 and I'm going to post this. Hopefully I'll be getting a page from the surgeon soon. Keep praying--especially that Judy wakes up with a good sense of humor. If not, I'll be admitted to a local hospital for head wounds.
If you're bored and have time to kill, read on.
Houston is a city of--how can I describe this?--a city of quick starts and immediate stops. It all began last night when "Whiplash Wally" took us from the airport to get our rental car. Whiplash Wally is a safe driver, just not a smooth driver. Every time he placed the bus in motion, he jumped on the accelerator, causing the bus to jerk forward and giving us whiplash. He would stop just as quickly. Whiplash Wally was actually preparing us for Houston.
This morning we left Barry & Sherry's house about 7:40 A.M., just in time for the infamous (non)rush hour traffic. The traffic would be at a standstill, then all of a sudden, lanes would open and everyone would hit the accelerator and the "Houston 500" would begin (you know, the Houston 500 is similar to the Indianapolis 500 race except at the Indianapolis Speedway the racers don't take off as fast and, even though the travel in circles, they actually have forward motion). A newbee to the Houston 500 is given false hope--you know, that the race has actually begun once the traffic begins to flow. The breakneck start is almost immediately interrupted by the "slam-on-the-brakes-the-traffic-stopped-on-a-dime" ritual. The whole commute is executed in this manner. Anyone who cannot keep up with the arythmic pace is either killed, smashed, or banned to the shoulder.
This morning's commute was intensified by the rain. Not normal rain, but true-to-Houston's rhythm, would start like driving into a waterfall, then mysteriously quit like--like--like driving out of a waterfall. The wipers on the Houston cars have two speeds: faster-than-the-speed-of-sound or off.
We arrived at M.D. Anderson and continued the routine of hurry/stop. We checked in and Judy was immediately taken for the "cross your heart and hope to die or stick a needle in your--oh wait, it's eye, not boob"--never mind.
Judy was immediately take to the magical room where they stick a needle in places needles were not intended to go. At this moment, she was officially in the "on deck" circle. They invited me back to her holding cell--I mean waiting room. You won't believe what they placed over the needle. (Remember that the needle is sticking out of her right breast at the place where the doctor would operate.) Women talk about having a "C" cup or another letter of the alphabet. Judy had a----are your ready for this----she had a---you won't believe this---she had a--she's gonna kill me for writing this--she had a--this is too good to hold--she had a 16 ounce cup. That's right folks, M.D. Anderson, master of technology, used a styrofoam 16 ounce cup taped to her breast over the needle. (My life will be over as soon as Judy is alert enough to read this, but boy was it funny.) Madonna has nothing on my precious wife.
As you can guess, I'm in the waiting room, just waiting and writing and probably getting into trouble. I had promised to give updates throughout the day, but he holding cell--I mean waiting room had zero connectivity. I couldn't get text messages, phone calls, or the reprieve from the governor.
It's now 2:37 and I'm going to post this. Hopefully I'll be getting a page from the surgeon soon. Keep praying--especially that Judy wakes up with a good sense of humor. If not, I'll be admitted to a local hospital for head wounds.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
New e-mail address
Forgive me--we've changed e-mail providers. Friday we crossed over to the dark side and had AT&T U-verse installed. We'll keep the Suddenlink site for a few more days while we try to notify everyone of our change. Please change your address book to read:
jgerlt@att.net
Thank you.
jgerlt@att.net
Thank you.
It's Time
After what seems like a long wait, we are now headed to the airport. Our company jet (Southwest Airlines) leaves at 5:15. Yesterday seemed surreal--we were trying to get so many things done and were wishing for a little more time. Just three weeks we were wanting things to speed up. Just call us fickle. I'll keep updating this blog tomorrow in an attempt to give you a play-by-play analysis. Thank you for your prayers, love and support.
Oh, it's now 3:30 on Sunday afternoon, October 25, 2009.
Oh, it's now 3:30 on Sunday afternoon, October 25, 2009.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Countdown
One week from this morning we will be in Houston for Judy's second lumpectomy. She'll do a quick trip for her pre-op appointment Thursday, then we'll return Sunday night. Her bruising is nearly gone and she's ready to get on with surgery.
This has been an interesting waiting time for us. On the one hand, we're so ready to get on with her procedures so we can get this whole episode behind us. On the other hand, this interim time has allowed us to focus on things needing to be done now. Once the surgery comes we're one step closer to radiation and possibly chemo. Judy is aware that the radiation will be an interruption for us as she'll have to be in Houston for an extended period. She's also aware that, if she takes chemo, it will be a major disruption. Chemo has the potential for so many bad things, not to mention delaying the time we're planning to spend with our Asian kids over Christmas. But then, I jump ahead--as is the temptation when one deals with cancer--and borrow trouble we don't need to borrow.
This week we countdown the time until she is officially cancer free. That will come with the lumpectomy. What we'll be working on is increasing her odds of remaining cancer free for the rest of her life. Now that I think about it, that's not such a bad position to be in. As I write it is 7:20 A.M. and next Monday at this time--IF things go as scheduled--we'll be arriving at the check-in desk at M.D. Anderson to begin the day of deliverance from this invader.
Thank you for your love, concern and, most of all, your prayers. They are working. We're in the tumbler--AND IT'S ALL RIGHT.
This has been an interesting waiting time for us. On the one hand, we're so ready to get on with her procedures so we can get this whole episode behind us. On the other hand, this interim time has allowed us to focus on things needing to be done now. Once the surgery comes we're one step closer to radiation and possibly chemo. Judy is aware that the radiation will be an interruption for us as she'll have to be in Houston for an extended period. She's also aware that, if she takes chemo, it will be a major disruption. Chemo has the potential for so many bad things, not to mention delaying the time we're planning to spend with our Asian kids over Christmas. But then, I jump ahead--as is the temptation when one deals with cancer--and borrow trouble we don't need to borrow.
This week we countdown the time until she is officially cancer free. That will come with the lumpectomy. What we'll be working on is increasing her odds of remaining cancer free for the rest of her life. Now that I think about it, that's not such a bad position to be in. As I write it is 7:20 A.M. and next Monday at this time--IF things go as scheduled--we'll be arriving at the check-in desk at M.D. Anderson to begin the day of deliverance from this invader.
Thank you for your love, concern and, most of all, your prayers. They are working. We're in the tumbler--AND IT'S ALL RIGHT.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Happy Day
Today is Judy's birthday. October 14 is always a happy day for me--her husband--because if she'd not been born I don't know where I'd be in my life. The greatest day in my life was when I became a Christian and the second greatest day was when Judy became my wife. Without a birthday, no wedding. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY WONDERFUL WIFE!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
How's Judy doing?
Judy is, overall doing great. That doesn't mean she never has her moments--we ALL have our moments. But the bottom line is, she's doing very well.
Right now we're in a holding pattern, waiting for her bruising to clear for the surgery. We're scheduled to fly to Houston on October 25 and have surgery the 26th. We're scheduled to return to Lubbock on the 28th. Following a recovery time, we'll return to Houston November 12th for a post-op visit with the surgeon and visit with the radiologist. We'll make a decision about chemo, probably during the Nov. 12th visit.
Thank you for your concern, love, and--most of all--prayers.
Right now we're in a holding pattern, waiting for her bruising to clear for the surgery. We're scheduled to fly to Houston on October 25 and have surgery the 26th. We're scheduled to return to Lubbock on the 28th. Following a recovery time, we'll return to Houston November 12th for a post-op visit with the surgeon and visit with the radiologist. We'll make a decision about chemo, probably during the Nov. 12th visit.
Thank you for your concern, love, and--most of all--prayers.
Battle for the Mind
One of the things we read about fighting cancer declared that the biggest battle is fought in the mind. On first reading we thought, "That can't be right." Guess what? It is right. Cancer invades the body but the "cancer thoughts" invade the mind. Surgery can remove the cancer but what removes the thoughts?
We're relearning the power of the Scriptures. For years I've "prescribed" these verses for changing the way one thinks:
1. Capture the bad thoughts. 2 Corinthians 10:5 says, "...we are taking every thought captive...."
2. Renew your mind. Romans 12:2 says, "...but be transformed by the renewing of your mind...."
3. Tell your self the truth. Philippians 4:8, "...whatever is true...."
We pity the person who has to face cancer alone. With both of us hearing what the doctors are saying, we can remind each other of the truth of our situation. And the truth is we found the cancer early; we were led to Houston where we found the second cancer; this cancer will be removed; radiation will help ensure Judy remains cancer free; and we're growing older together.
We're relearning the power of the Scriptures. For years I've "prescribed" these verses for changing the way one thinks:
1. Capture the bad thoughts. 2 Corinthians 10:5 says, "...we are taking every thought captive...."
2. Renew your mind. Romans 12:2 says, "...but be transformed by the renewing of your mind...."
3. Tell your self the truth. Philippians 4:8, "...whatever is true...."
We pity the person who has to face cancer alone. With both of us hearing what the doctors are saying, we can remind each other of the truth of our situation. And the truth is we found the cancer early; we were led to Houston where we found the second cancer; this cancer will be removed; radiation will help ensure Judy remains cancer free; and we're growing older together.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Reflections on Day 1 at MDA
The call to come to Houston came on September 11, 2009—eight years after death came from the sky in New York, D.C., and Shankstown, Pennsylvania. Was this a call to life—from the skies of phone towers?
Interesting that we were not given an appointment time—just to be in Houston Monday. And, with the call coming at 9:30 on a work day AND including a request for numerous medical reports from Lubbock AND with many medical offices closing at noon on Fridays; we got busy. Judy scrambled the phones, I picked up pathology slides and other things and ended up faxing over 40 pages of documents. We made our deadlines but by the skin of our teeth.
Next decision: fly or drive? Last minute flights are more expensive and we weren’t sure when we would be coming home. Driving seemed to make more sense—to us. Our friends said we were crazy, which was confirmation that we needed to drive. Since when have we done things the sane way?
How much do we pack for a 2-3-4-5 day trip? We made arrangements to be gone a couple of days, thinking we’d be back home late Tuesday night. MAJOR MISUNDESTANDING OF THE SYSTEM.
Friday night and Saturday were blurred by our preparations. I wanted to leave immediately after church. Come home, change clothes and grab a burger on the way out of town. (And the forecast called for snow in hell the same day.) We finally got off around 2:00, still eating in the car. The skies were overcast and we drove in rain most of the way. Radio stations were rare—that is, stations we could tolerate were rare. We finally found one that featured “Country Legends.” It was more than country and we laughed at some of the selections making the legends chart. We arrived just before midnight at the Barry Wallace estate.
Monday morning—up at 6:15—6:22—6:30—6:33 and the realization that Brandon would be there at 7:45 to drive us on his way to work. Amazing thing, this adrenalin rush—better than caffeine to get you going. Brandon arrived on time and we entered into that highly entertaining and competitive sport of Houston rush hour traffic—something I try to avoid like the plague whenever we go to Houston. Brandon handled it all in stride driving, texting, shifting and drinking coffee while maintaining a calm conversational tone. We arrived at 8:10 with time to spare????how can that be—we don’t know when we’re to be there. Are we really early or late or…?
Brandon established a new paradigm for hospital appointments. He’s a doctor—arranged for us to come to MDA, picked us up, parked in the doctor’s parking lot, escorted us through the labyrinth of buildings and took us right up to the registration counter. He waited at the desk to be sure the lady behind the counter realized we were there and being escorted by a doctor.
As we walked through the MDA complex—traveling through a sky bridge that’s nearly a quarter mile long, I remembered out vacation trip to Boston. We took one of the guided tours that included Cambridge, Massachusetts. The looney driver took us by M.I.T. and commented, “This campus is huge—it covers 13 acres.” M.D. Anderson Medical Center could swallow M.I.T. and not burp. The guide bragged about there being more Nobel Prize winners at M.I.T. than at any other school. Who cares if they can’t help my wife? MDA is where we need and I want to be.
We discovered our appointment was for 10:30, so we had some waiting to do. The registration clerk said she would let “Bill” know we were here and maybe we could get started a little early. We settled down in the spacious waiting—spacious, peaceful waiting—spacious, peaceful, quiet waiting room. What a contrast to the drive to MDA. I began journaling and Judy began her never ending search for a cup of coffee. (Usually she is searching for that elusive perfect cup of coffee, but this was a hospital and searching for coffee of any kind would have to suffice.) She found her coffee—all’s right with the world. She spilled her coffee on herself—all’s normal with the world.
9:28: “Judy Gerlt.” She and Bill walk away and our next round in the tumbler began.
As I was by myself in this spacious, peaceful, quiet waiting room, I reflected on our journey of the past few hours. We just knew to come to Houston. We didn’t know where M.D. Anderson hospital was located nor where to go when we arrived. The complex is indeed complex. And the very fact that we were there was a little staggering. Actually, I began to compare Brandon going ahead of us to Joseph of the Old Testament going ahead of his family to Egypt. He went ahead to provide life for his family. Somehow it seems like Brandon has gone ahead of us to provide life for my precious coffee spilling, music loving, want-to-experience-it-all—but –didn’t-mean-this-experience wife of 39 years. “Thank You, Father, for Your foresight in bringing this man into our family and calling him to medical school. Thank you for loading him up with the brain power to graduate number 1 in his class and in all his residency and internship programs so he’d be selected for M.D. Anderson. Thank you for his compassion for extended family.”
Interesting that we were not given an appointment time—just to be in Houston Monday. And, with the call coming at 9:30 on a work day AND including a request for numerous medical reports from Lubbock AND with many medical offices closing at noon on Fridays; we got busy. Judy scrambled the phones, I picked up pathology slides and other things and ended up faxing over 40 pages of documents. We made our deadlines but by the skin of our teeth.
Next decision: fly or drive? Last minute flights are more expensive and we weren’t sure when we would be coming home. Driving seemed to make more sense—to us. Our friends said we were crazy, which was confirmation that we needed to drive. Since when have we done things the sane way?
How much do we pack for a 2-3-4-5 day trip? We made arrangements to be gone a couple of days, thinking we’d be back home late Tuesday night. MAJOR MISUNDESTANDING OF THE SYSTEM.
Friday night and Saturday were blurred by our preparations. I wanted to leave immediately after church. Come home, change clothes and grab a burger on the way out of town. (And the forecast called for snow in hell the same day.) We finally got off around 2:00, still eating in the car. The skies were overcast and we drove in rain most of the way. Radio stations were rare—that is, stations we could tolerate were rare. We finally found one that featured “Country Legends.” It was more than country and we laughed at some of the selections making the legends chart. We arrived just before midnight at the Barry Wallace estate.
Monday morning—up at 6:15—6:22—6:30—6:33 and the realization that Brandon would be there at 7:45 to drive us on his way to work. Amazing thing, this adrenalin rush—better than caffeine to get you going. Brandon arrived on time and we entered into that highly entertaining and competitive sport of Houston rush hour traffic—something I try to avoid like the plague whenever we go to Houston. Brandon handled it all in stride driving, texting, shifting and drinking coffee while maintaining a calm conversational tone. We arrived at 8:10 with time to spare????how can that be—we don’t know when we’re to be there. Are we really early or late or…?
Brandon established a new paradigm for hospital appointments. He’s a doctor—arranged for us to come to MDA, picked us up, parked in the doctor’s parking lot, escorted us through the labyrinth of buildings and took us right up to the registration counter. He waited at the desk to be sure the lady behind the counter realized we were there and being escorted by a doctor.
As we walked through the MDA complex—traveling through a sky bridge that’s nearly a quarter mile long, I remembered out vacation trip to Boston. We took one of the guided tours that included Cambridge, Massachusetts. The looney driver took us by M.I.T. and commented, “This campus is huge—it covers 13 acres.” M.D. Anderson Medical Center could swallow M.I.T. and not burp. The guide bragged about there being more Nobel Prize winners at M.I.T. than at any other school. Who cares if they can’t help my wife? MDA is where we need and I want to be.
We discovered our appointment was for 10:30, so we had some waiting to do. The registration clerk said she would let “Bill” know we were here and maybe we could get started a little early. We settled down in the spacious waiting—spacious, peaceful waiting—spacious, peaceful, quiet waiting room. What a contrast to the drive to MDA. I began journaling and Judy began her never ending search for a cup of coffee. (Usually she is searching for that elusive perfect cup of coffee, but this was a hospital and searching for coffee of any kind would have to suffice.) She found her coffee—all’s right with the world. She spilled her coffee on herself—all’s normal with the world.
9:28: “Judy Gerlt.” She and Bill walk away and our next round in the tumbler began.
As I was by myself in this spacious, peaceful, quiet waiting room, I reflected on our journey of the past few hours. We just knew to come to Houston. We didn’t know where M.D. Anderson hospital was located nor where to go when we arrived. The complex is indeed complex. And the very fact that we were there was a little staggering. Actually, I began to compare Brandon going ahead of us to Joseph of the Old Testament going ahead of his family to Egypt. He went ahead to provide life for his family. Somehow it seems like Brandon has gone ahead of us to provide life for my precious coffee spilling, music loving, want-to-experience-it-all—but –didn’t-mean-this-experience wife of 39 years. “Thank You, Father, for Your foresight in bringing this man into our family and calling him to medical school. Thank you for loading him up with the brain power to graduate number 1 in his class and in all his residency and internship programs so he’d be selected for M.D. Anderson. Thank you for his compassion for extended family.”
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Chronology of Judy's Cancer
This is a lengthy entry, not for the faint of heart nor the short-of-time readers. But if you want a detailed description of our journey to date, read on.
7/27/09 Judy has a mammogram at Arrington Comprehensive Breast Center as part of her annual physical. The report mailed the next day read, “We are pleased to inform you that the results of your mammogram performed on 7/27/09, are normal. It is recommended that you have your next mammogram in 1 year.”
8/6/09 Judy has her annual exam by Dr. Michael Owen. During the course of the exam he felt a lump in her right breast. His first response was that it was probably a fatty tumor or cyst and should not be a problem. However, he didn’t want to be casual about it and referred her to a surgeon for follow up.
8/13/09 Judy meets with Dr. Beth Nichols of the S.W.A.T. group. Dr. Nichols wants further tests and a sonogram is scheduled.
Tuesday, 8/18/09 Judy and Jim arrive at the Joe Arrington Cancer Center at 2:00 for a sonogram. The nurse and sonogram technician prepare her for the sonogram. The doctor comes in to watch. The sonogram shows a mass and the doctor says the words we didn’t want to hear, “This is not a cyst. We’ve got to do a biopsy.” Within minutes, with consent forms signed, the doctor begins the biopsy. Jim gets to stay in the room and watch. He used a needle the length of a small football field and went deep. Judy was tough and returned to her office and worked until 8:00 P.M.
Friday, 8/21/09 It’s a day later than they said before we hear from the biopsy. Because the call didn’t come before noon, Judy surmised that the news would not be good and that the doctor would have to make the call. She was correct. We received the news around 2:30 and immediately met at the surgeon’s office. Dr. Nichols explained options and we opted for a lumpectomy. We hurriedly began the paperwork to get the procedure done Tuesday. We rushed to the pre-admitting office for Covenant and Judy got an EKG, X Ray, blood drawn and papers signed. The staff was turning out the lights as we left—we were the last people they saw that week. We cancelled our evening plans (helping Judy’s class—Cross His Line—feed the homeless at Mahon Library) and began to call family with the news. We felt like we’d had the wind knocked out of us.
8/22/09 Our 39th wedding anniversary. We don’t take anniversaries for granted this day. We end the day by going to the Ranching Heritage center as David and Kim Allison’s guests at a celebration of Charlie Goodnight’s life, poetry and music.
8/24/09 Dr. Brandon Gunn, our nephew and a radiologist with M.D. Anderson calls to inquire about the cancer. He assures us it’s treatable and that we don’t need to rush to surgery. We talk a long time and finally decide to proceed with the surgery. He assures us he’s ready to help us in any way possible.
8/25/09 Judy has a sentinel node biopsy and lumpectomy. Dr. Nickels informs Jim and Carolyn that the lymph nodes were clear—GREAT NEWS—but that she doesn’t think she got all the cancer. It had tentacles extending into the ducts. Judy was still bruised from the biopsy and Dr. Nickels was afraid to remove any more tissue, concerned that she might be cutting into the muscle.
8/25/09 Judy arrives in the room following time in recovery. Jim tells her the good news—lymph nodes clear—then the not-so-good news, “Dr. Nickels doesn’t think she got it all.” It’s an emotional moment—ecstatic that the lymph nodes were clear; deeply disappointed that some cancer might still remain. We wait for the pathology report.
8/27/09 The report comes back. They got it all! The report reads, “clear but narrow margin” on one area. We celebrate.
At some point Brandon came into the picture. We had several conversations with him about going to M.D. Anderson for a consult. When Judy had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Nickels it was decided she needed more surgery to create more margin. Conversations with M.D. Anderson confirmed the need for more surgery. In fact, MDA stated they would not see her until she had the surgery. We schedule surgery for a week later.
Brandon became Judy’s advocate at MDA and they agreed to see her prior to having surgery. We cancelled her Lubbock surgery to wait on MDA.
9/11/09 8 years ago death came from the skies in New York, D.C., and Shankstown, Penn. At 9:30 we received a call from MDA telling us to be in Houston Monday. Jim wondered, “Is this a call to life from the airwaves?” The scheduler from MDA tells Judy all the reports they need. We begin a mad rush to get all the reports—crazy because many medical offices close at noon on Fridays. We manage to get everything and Jim faxes over 40 pages of records to Houston. In addition, we hand carry x-rays and pathology slides. DECISION TIME: drive or fly? Because of all the uncertainty, we decide to drive. (Our friends think we’re nuts for driving.)
9/13/09 We leave Lubbock at 2:00 and drive in rain most of the day. Arrive Houston just before midnight—staying with Judy’s brother and his family.
9/14/09 Up at 6:15 to catch our ride. We ride with Brandon—Dr. Brandon Gunn—to MDA. He parks in doctor’s parking lot and escorts us to our building. Great new paradigm—chauffeured, escorted and introduced by a doctor.
M. D. Anderson is a massive complex. We check in and await the day’s events. Spacious, peaceful waiting room. 9:28 Judy’s name is called and we begin the M. D. Anderson experience. Today she has digital mammogram and sonogram. It takes most of the day.
9/15/09 We meet with the surgeon in the early afternoon, planning to drive home this evening. WRONG! Following a detailed meeting, we hustle across town to a satellite location where they do partial breast radiation. We meet with the radiologists to consider our options. A MRI is scheduled for Friday. We don’t want to wait until Friday.
9/16/09 We start calling at 6:30 A.M. to see if there’s been a cancellation for the MRI. At 7:20 we are told there’s a 9:00 spot available, but we have to check in by 8:30. Mad rush to dress and beat rush hour traffic. We check in at 8:25. The procedure takes most of the day. We decide we’ll drive home Thursday. WRONG! While Judy’s in the MRI, Brandon calls and asks if we’d stay another day to meet with the head of his department—the top radiologist at MDA—one of the top 10 in the world. Of course we’ll wait another day for this appointment.
9/17/09 We’re bracing ourselves for a long day—meeting with the radiologist at 2:00, then driving home late Thursday night. WRONG! Mid morning we get a call from the head of the imaging department saying they need us back Friday for a biopsy. They found a spot from the MRI and need to determine what it is.
Our appointment with the radiologist is amazing. What a gentle, kind man. He gives us details and assures us we’re going to be all right. He strongly suggests we have the second surgery and radiation at MDA. If we do chemo, we can do that in Lubbock.
9/18/09 We arrive at MDA at 6:30 A.M., hoping to get an early start home. WRONG! The perform a sonogram on Judy and attempt 3 biopsies. They can’t get what they want. They send her for an MRI. Still can’t pinpoint the node they saw Wednesday. Finally, at 12:30, they tell us she’ll have to come back Wednesday for a biopsy under MRI. Disappointing. We head home at 1:00 and drive 595 miles in 9 hours and 45 minutes.
9/22/09 Judy flies to Houston after work.
9/23/09 The biopsy under MRI. She flies home and we wait for news.
9/28/09 The call comes and the node is more cancer. Somehow the Lubbock tests and surgery missed this spot. It’s close to the where the other cancer was removed, but not in the area the Lubbock doctors were going to work on to increase margins. Would they have found it in Lubbock? We’ll never know. We do know they found it in Houston. Thank you God!
As Judy communicates with the Houston surgery team, they work on a surgery schedule. Judy is badly bruised. They decide to wait until October 26 for the surgery so she can heal some and the bruising diminish.
Today is October 7, and here’s the schedule—AS OF TODAY
October 22—Judy flies to Houston for pre-op appointment. One day trip. (Thank God for Southwest Airlines).
October 25—we fly to Houston.
October 26—early morning surgery.
October 28—we fly home and wait on her recovery.
November 12—back to Houston for post-op visit and consultation with the top radiologist to determine the course of post-op treatment.
SIDE NOTE: As I was writing, Andy Hines, our Aflac agent, called to tell us the claim we filed Friday on our cancer policy has been approved and a significant check will be coming very soon. One of the smartest decisions I’ve made (me being Jim) was to take out that Aflac cancer policy a few years ago. It’s going to help with this ordeal.
7/27/09 Judy has a mammogram at Arrington Comprehensive Breast Center as part of her annual physical. The report mailed the next day read, “We are pleased to inform you that the results of your mammogram performed on 7/27/09, are normal. It is recommended that you have your next mammogram in 1 year.”
8/6/09 Judy has her annual exam by Dr. Michael Owen. During the course of the exam he felt a lump in her right breast. His first response was that it was probably a fatty tumor or cyst and should not be a problem. However, he didn’t want to be casual about it and referred her to a surgeon for follow up.
8/13/09 Judy meets with Dr. Beth Nichols of the S.W.A.T. group. Dr. Nichols wants further tests and a sonogram is scheduled.
Tuesday, 8/18/09 Judy and Jim arrive at the Joe Arrington Cancer Center at 2:00 for a sonogram. The nurse and sonogram technician prepare her for the sonogram. The doctor comes in to watch. The sonogram shows a mass and the doctor says the words we didn’t want to hear, “This is not a cyst. We’ve got to do a biopsy.” Within minutes, with consent forms signed, the doctor begins the biopsy. Jim gets to stay in the room and watch. He used a needle the length of a small football field and went deep. Judy was tough and returned to her office and worked until 8:00 P.M.
Friday, 8/21/09 It’s a day later than they said before we hear from the biopsy. Because the call didn’t come before noon, Judy surmised that the news would not be good and that the doctor would have to make the call. She was correct. We received the news around 2:30 and immediately met at the surgeon’s office. Dr. Nichols explained options and we opted for a lumpectomy. We hurriedly began the paperwork to get the procedure done Tuesday. We rushed to the pre-admitting office for Covenant and Judy got an EKG, X Ray, blood drawn and papers signed. The staff was turning out the lights as we left—we were the last people they saw that week. We cancelled our evening plans (helping Judy’s class—Cross His Line—feed the homeless at Mahon Library) and began to call family with the news. We felt like we’d had the wind knocked out of us.
8/22/09 Our 39th wedding anniversary. We don’t take anniversaries for granted this day. We end the day by going to the Ranching Heritage center as David and Kim Allison’s guests at a celebration of Charlie Goodnight’s life, poetry and music.
8/24/09 Dr. Brandon Gunn, our nephew and a radiologist with M.D. Anderson calls to inquire about the cancer. He assures us it’s treatable and that we don’t need to rush to surgery. We talk a long time and finally decide to proceed with the surgery. He assures us he’s ready to help us in any way possible.
8/25/09 Judy has a sentinel node biopsy and lumpectomy. Dr. Nickels informs Jim and Carolyn that the lymph nodes were clear—GREAT NEWS—but that she doesn’t think she got all the cancer. It had tentacles extending into the ducts. Judy was still bruised from the biopsy and Dr. Nickels was afraid to remove any more tissue, concerned that she might be cutting into the muscle.
8/25/09 Judy arrives in the room following time in recovery. Jim tells her the good news—lymph nodes clear—then the not-so-good news, “Dr. Nickels doesn’t think she got it all.” It’s an emotional moment—ecstatic that the lymph nodes were clear; deeply disappointed that some cancer might still remain. We wait for the pathology report.
8/27/09 The report comes back. They got it all! The report reads, “clear but narrow margin” on one area. We celebrate.
At some point Brandon came into the picture. We had several conversations with him about going to M.D. Anderson for a consult. When Judy had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Nickels it was decided she needed more surgery to create more margin. Conversations with M.D. Anderson confirmed the need for more surgery. In fact, MDA stated they would not see her until she had the surgery. We schedule surgery for a week later.
Brandon became Judy’s advocate at MDA and they agreed to see her prior to having surgery. We cancelled her Lubbock surgery to wait on MDA.
9/11/09 8 years ago death came from the skies in New York, D.C., and Shankstown, Penn. At 9:30 we received a call from MDA telling us to be in Houston Monday. Jim wondered, “Is this a call to life from the airwaves?” The scheduler from MDA tells Judy all the reports they need. We begin a mad rush to get all the reports—crazy because many medical offices close at noon on Fridays. We manage to get everything and Jim faxes over 40 pages of records to Houston. In addition, we hand carry x-rays and pathology slides. DECISION TIME: drive or fly? Because of all the uncertainty, we decide to drive. (Our friends think we’re nuts for driving.)
9/13/09 We leave Lubbock at 2:00 and drive in rain most of the day. Arrive Houston just before midnight—staying with Judy’s brother and his family.
9/14/09 Up at 6:15 to catch our ride. We ride with Brandon—Dr. Brandon Gunn—to MDA. He parks in doctor’s parking lot and escorts us to our building. Great new paradigm—chauffeured, escorted and introduced by a doctor.
M. D. Anderson is a massive complex. We check in and await the day’s events. Spacious, peaceful waiting room. 9:28 Judy’s name is called and we begin the M. D. Anderson experience. Today she has digital mammogram and sonogram. It takes most of the day.
9/15/09 We meet with the surgeon in the early afternoon, planning to drive home this evening. WRONG! Following a detailed meeting, we hustle across town to a satellite location where they do partial breast radiation. We meet with the radiologists to consider our options. A MRI is scheduled for Friday. We don’t want to wait until Friday.
9/16/09 We start calling at 6:30 A.M. to see if there’s been a cancellation for the MRI. At 7:20 we are told there’s a 9:00 spot available, but we have to check in by 8:30. Mad rush to dress and beat rush hour traffic. We check in at 8:25. The procedure takes most of the day. We decide we’ll drive home Thursday. WRONG! While Judy’s in the MRI, Brandon calls and asks if we’d stay another day to meet with the head of his department—the top radiologist at MDA—one of the top 10 in the world. Of course we’ll wait another day for this appointment.
9/17/09 We’re bracing ourselves for a long day—meeting with the radiologist at 2:00, then driving home late Thursday night. WRONG! Mid morning we get a call from the head of the imaging department saying they need us back Friday for a biopsy. They found a spot from the MRI and need to determine what it is.
Our appointment with the radiologist is amazing. What a gentle, kind man. He gives us details and assures us we’re going to be all right. He strongly suggests we have the second surgery and radiation at MDA. If we do chemo, we can do that in Lubbock.
9/18/09 We arrive at MDA at 6:30 A.M., hoping to get an early start home. WRONG! The perform a sonogram on Judy and attempt 3 biopsies. They can’t get what they want. They send her for an MRI. Still can’t pinpoint the node they saw Wednesday. Finally, at 12:30, they tell us she’ll have to come back Wednesday for a biopsy under MRI. Disappointing. We head home at 1:00 and drive 595 miles in 9 hours and 45 minutes.
9/22/09 Judy flies to Houston after work.
9/23/09 The biopsy under MRI. She flies home and we wait for news.
9/28/09 The call comes and the node is more cancer. Somehow the Lubbock tests and surgery missed this spot. It’s close to the where the other cancer was removed, but not in the area the Lubbock doctors were going to work on to increase margins. Would they have found it in Lubbock? We’ll never know. We do know they found it in Houston. Thank you God!
As Judy communicates with the Houston surgery team, they work on a surgery schedule. Judy is badly bruised. They decide to wait until October 26 for the surgery so she can heal some and the bruising diminish.
Today is October 7, and here’s the schedule—AS OF TODAY
October 22—Judy flies to Houston for pre-op appointment. One day trip. (Thank God for Southwest Airlines).
October 25—we fly to Houston.
October 26—early morning surgery.
October 28—we fly home and wait on her recovery.
November 12—back to Houston for post-op visit and consultation with the top radiologist to determine the course of post-op treatment.
SIDE NOTE: As I was writing, Andy Hines, our Aflac agent, called to tell us the claim we filed Friday on our cancer policy has been approved and a significant check will be coming very soon. One of the smartest decisions I’ve made (me being Jim) was to take out that Aflac cancer policy a few years ago. It’s going to help with this ordeal.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Challenges/Opportunities
We're extremely fortunate to live in a day and land that has shrunk our world. Travel that used to take months is done in hours. Wow, what a time to be alive! The challenge we face in fighting Judy's cancer is more in terms of travel than finding a cure. Working flights and work schedules are really only slightly challenging in the bigger scheme of things. We're finding the M.D. Anderson folks to be helpful and eager to get Judy cancer free and on the way to a long life. But because of the tremendous patient load they carry, they, of necessity, must set schedules and expect us to conform.
For a couple used to working around a number of events and considering other's schedules, this is a bit challenging--BUT DOABLE!
As of today, our proposed schedule for the next few weeks is:
1. Oct. 22. Judy goes to Houston for the pre-op visit.
2. Oct. 25. We travel to Houston. I don't know if it's "one if by land or two if by sea--I mean air" (to borrow a phrase from the story of Paul Revere). The 25th is the Sunday following the Tech/A & M game. Flights are NOT discounted the dav after that game. Driving is possible; flying desirable. Decision to be made prior to game time.
3. Oct. 26. Surgery to make Judy cancer free.
4. Recovery. To be determined.
5. Nov. 12. Post-op visit at M.D. Anderson. We will meet with the surgeon, radiologist, and (hopefully) the oncologist.
6. Radiation/chemo begins...?
7. Christmas in China...? Probably will happen--possible won't. We've got our tickets and are planning to go.
I keep promising a chronology of this fight. It will come--eventually. Thanks for reading this blog. Don't hesitate to leave a comment.
For a couple used to working around a number of events and considering other's schedules, this is a bit challenging--BUT DOABLE!
As of today, our proposed schedule for the next few weeks is:
1. Oct. 22. Judy goes to Houston for the pre-op visit.
2. Oct. 25. We travel to Houston. I don't know if it's "one if by land or two if by sea--I mean air" (to borrow a phrase from the story of Paul Revere). The 25th is the Sunday following the Tech/A & M game. Flights are NOT discounted the dav after that game. Driving is possible; flying desirable. Decision to be made prior to game time.
3. Oct. 26. Surgery to make Judy cancer free.
4. Recovery. To be determined.
5. Nov. 12. Post-op visit at M.D. Anderson. We will meet with the surgeon, radiologist, and (hopefully) the oncologist.
6. Radiation/chemo begins...?
7. Christmas in China...? Probably will happen--possible won't. We've got our tickets and are planning to go.
I keep promising a chronology of this fight. It will come--eventually. Thanks for reading this blog. Don't hesitate to leave a comment.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Concessions
We've been determined not to be defined by this cancer. We're working to maintain as near a normal schedule as possible. However, the best laid plans....
We're now scheduling surgery for October 26. Judy will need a pre-op visit on October 22. Our thinking was, "Fly in mid morning on the 22nd, be there a couple of hours, then catch an early evening flight home." Judy was hoping to work a couple of hours before the flight.
I just got an e-mail from our contact at M. D. Anderson and she said that if appointments began at 11:00, not to plan on a flight home any earlier than 7:00. She suggested waiting until Friday, or staying in Houston until the surgery Monday. So much for maintaining a normal routine.
We're also facing challenges in getting from Lubbock to Houston economically. I'm going with her for the surgery. All flights from Lubbock to Houston are expensive on Sunday because of the Texas Tech/Texas A.&M. football game. There are no rapid reward seats available on any flight that day. So much for economically getting to Houston. We're now trying to decide if we should drive again, but we are not sure how Judy would fare on a nearly 10 hour drive home following surgery. We might drive down and fly her home. Oh well, minor details in the march to get her cancer free and a long-term survivor. We can handle this.
We're now scheduling surgery for October 26. Judy will need a pre-op visit on October 22. Our thinking was, "Fly in mid morning on the 22nd, be there a couple of hours, then catch an early evening flight home." Judy was hoping to work a couple of hours before the flight.
I just got an e-mail from our contact at M. D. Anderson and she said that if appointments began at 11:00, not to plan on a flight home any earlier than 7:00. She suggested waiting until Friday, or staying in Houston until the surgery Monday. So much for maintaining a normal routine.
We're also facing challenges in getting from Lubbock to Houston economically. I'm going with her for the surgery. All flights from Lubbock to Houston are expensive on Sunday because of the Texas Tech/Texas A.&M. football game. There are no rapid reward seats available on any flight that day. So much for economically getting to Houston. We're now trying to decide if we should drive again, but we are not sure how Judy would fare on a nearly 10 hour drive home following surgery. We might drive down and fly her home. Oh well, minor details in the march to get her cancer free and a long-term survivor. We can handle this.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Surgery delayed
Yesterday Judy spoke with the physician's assistant to her surgeon. They were discussing a date for the additional surgery. When Judy mentioned she was extremely bruised, that raised a flag for the P.A. We sent pictures of the bruise and today the surgeon decided to wait 4 weeks to allow time for healing to occur. That means the earliest we could schedule surgery for the lumpectomy is Oct. 26. We'll talk with the doctor tomorrow and set a tentative time for the surgery.
There is no problem with waiting. This cancer has probably been there for quite some time and we "know where it lives." We will get it, but in due time.
Soon (definition of "soon" open to my interpretation) I will post the chronology and a brief description of our journey to date. Thank you for your interest in my precious wife.
There is no problem with waiting. This cancer has probably been there for quite some time and we "know where it lives." We will get it, but in due time.
Soon (definition of "soon" open to my interpretation) I will post the chronology and a brief description of our journey to date. Thank you for your interest in my precious wife.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Update as of September 28
Last Wednesday Judy had another biopsy--this one under MRI. Today we received the pathologists report. The node they saw at M.D. Anderson has turned out to be residual cancer. It's not a big cancer, but it's cancer. Judy is a candidate for another lumpectomy. The surgeon is considering when to operate. The earliest date possible is October 19, but due to the bruising from her biopsy, we might have to wait 6 weeks before the surgery.
We know they will be able to remove the remaining cancer and, following this other surgery, she will be cancer free. Statistics tell us that 88 out of 100 women who have successful lumpectomies are still cancer free 10 years later. With the addition of radiation or chemotherapy, or a combination of both, the number of women cancer free 10 years later increases by 2 to 4. We want the best possible odds working in our favor, so will do whatever we can to gain the advantage.
We feel tremendously blessed to have discovered this additional cancer. We don't know if the cancer would have been discovered had we not gone to Houston. Doesn't matter. God has provided through several doctors, both in Lubbock and Houston. We're going to lick this thing, we just have to walk through the process of getting it removed and getting the additional therapy for Judy. As of this moment it appears our trip to China for Christmas is still a go. We know this could change, but are still hopeful of spending Christmas with our kids.
Thanks for your prayers and support. Soon I'll post the chronology of the cancer, in case you want all the details.
We know they will be able to remove the remaining cancer and, following this other surgery, she will be cancer free. Statistics tell us that 88 out of 100 women who have successful lumpectomies are still cancer free 10 years later. With the addition of radiation or chemotherapy, or a combination of both, the number of women cancer free 10 years later increases by 2 to 4. We want the best possible odds working in our favor, so will do whatever we can to gain the advantage.
We feel tremendously blessed to have discovered this additional cancer. We don't know if the cancer would have been discovered had we not gone to Houston. Doesn't matter. God has provided through several doctors, both in Lubbock and Houston. We're going to lick this thing, we just have to walk through the process of getting it removed and getting the additional therapy for Judy. As of this moment it appears our trip to China for Christmas is still a go. We know this could change, but are still hopeful of spending Christmas with our kids.
Thanks for your prayers and support. Soon I'll post the chronology of the cancer, in case you want all the details.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
In the Tumbler
This blog is created to share information about our bout with cancer. The cancer is in Judy's body but we've got cancer. I'll try to keep it updated so you can follow along and pray with insight.
You might wonder about the name of my blog--Tumbler 2. The 2 is simple--just plain tumbler was taken, so, the need for "2." But why "Tumbler?" Reasonable question.
As I have been "marinating" in the book of James [Time out. I probably need to explain why I'm using the term "marinating." We have a friend from Romania named Titi Bulzan. He has mastered English and the art of transferring meanings. When we cook, we often marinate our meat so it will absorb the flavor of the marinating liquid. Titi considers spending time in the study of a topic to be similar to marinating meat. I love his term and have borrowed it--have adopted it for my own use. Time in] about the testing and trials working to make us complete, it seemed that James was referring to the way God chips, sands, grinds, buffs and polishes us to make us into the person He has planned for us to be. The best picture of this process comes from a church member in Tulsa who was a rock hound. He would find ugly pieces of various kinds of rocks, put them into a tumbler with some grit so they would rub against each other. The completed product was a thing of beauty. My analogy of the tumbler helps me understand what God is up to in my life. The cancer that has come into our lives has us in the tumbler with the big grit.
Tonight I'm just getting this blog established and tomorrow I'll detail our journey to date.
You might wonder about the name of my blog--Tumbler 2. The 2 is simple--just plain tumbler was taken, so, the need for "2." But why "Tumbler?" Reasonable question.
As I have been "marinating" in the book of James [Time out. I probably need to explain why I'm using the term "marinating." We have a friend from Romania named Titi Bulzan. He has mastered English and the art of transferring meanings. When we cook, we often marinate our meat so it will absorb the flavor of the marinating liquid. Titi considers spending time in the study of a topic to be similar to marinating meat. I love his term and have borrowed it--have adopted it for my own use. Time in] about the testing and trials working to make us complete, it seemed that James was referring to the way God chips, sands, grinds, buffs and polishes us to make us into the person He has planned for us to be. The best picture of this process comes from a church member in Tulsa who was a rock hound. He would find ugly pieces of various kinds of rocks, put them into a tumbler with some grit so they would rub against each other. The completed product was a thing of beauty. My analogy of the tumbler helps me understand what God is up to in my life. The cancer that has come into our lives has us in the tumbler with the big grit.
Tonight I'm just getting this blog established and tomorrow I'll detail our journey to date.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)