Qi Gong Saved me Yesterday! Last Treatment today!

It’s 6 a.m.  I just put-down a small quantity of the blueberry shake that Jen made for me last night; that took 45 minutes. I just took two Excedrin and am nibbling on some Colby cheese.

Here’s a more detailed description of what occurred about 2 p.m. yesterday as I was taking my chemo treatment:

I decided to try a few sips of Mountain Dew to get some caffeine on board (I can’t stomach coffee now – too acidic).
When that hit my stomach, bile started coming-up like crazy. I had to bend over a basket spitting bile time-after-time. My headache went through the roof. I started hyper-ventilating. The automatic blood-pressure check kicked-in: 196/92!
Then I puked for first time – after 27 radiation treatments and mix chemo treatments. Not much came up, because I hadn’t been able to eat much. I felt that the dry-heaves would start any second.
By sheer physical and mental will-power, I laid back on the easy-chair and began this simple Qi Gong breathing/visioning exercise:
Inhale: I slowly inhale, imagining that Qi energy from the vacuum beyond the far reaches of the universe is filling my lungs. As I do so, I imagine that the cells of my body expand to fill the entire universe, and are being bathed in the Qi energy coming toward me.
Exhale: I slowly exhale, imagining that the used Qi is returning to the vacuum, as my cells return to my body.
After a few minutes, another automatic blood-pressure check: 132/82! Out of danger!
A few minutes later, I fell asleep.

So: Thank You, John H., my Qi Gong mentor! John does not charge for his services, even though he is poor. He mentors about 100 people at any given time. I am the only one over 35. I am 66!

Doug with John

With John at Ault Park. His shirt reads: “What’s in your mind?”

Note: If I’m feeling well-enough later, I will post an update on how my last treatment went.


I need your prayers and/or best intentions for me now!

I have been terribly sick the last few days, with today being the worst. I have lost nine pounds in nine days because I am unable to get much food or drink into my stomach. I have constant headaches; I am a wreck!

Just now I had a breakthrough: I was able to get some egg and milk to go down without making me sick. I believe in Qi energy, that our bio-electric energy fields are entangled with each other, and that you can help me through this from afar.

Tomorrow is my last radiation treatment (#28). The effects will linger for some time. Please help me to get healthy enough to make that trip to St. Thomas to see Natalie!

The Life of Brian, Episode IV: The Pre-Sailboat Years

Author’s note to readers: If you’re not writing Comments, or at least reading the comments posted by others, you are missing-out on part of the action. In particular, I’d like to call your attention to this comment from my wonderful friend Mariann, who was on my fantastic (if I do say so myself) sea kayaking trip to Maine and Nova Scotia last year:

With Mariann at Acadia

Mariann between me and my wife Jennifer on Cadillac Mountain at Acadia National Park

One of my favorite Tedx videos is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXDMoiEkyuQ … I want to share it with you…the imagery is beautiful; the message, inspirational…Maybe you can find time to view it.

It’s a 10-minute Ted Talk. View it when you have time to relax and enjoy it!

Click here to see Mariann’s Flickr album from that trip. Click here to see the photo presentation that Jen and I made to the Hoosier Canoe & Kayak Club last fall.

It time to tack: The only things I know about sailing are what I learned from my son, who is self-taught. In sailing terms, my niece chastised me today for getting way off course on the Natalie thing. Well, I’m a single-tasker, and she’s right. So, HOLD ON TIGHT: I’m spinning the wheel! DUCK! The boom just zipped over our heads, headed for the other side of the boat! Brian has cleated the line, and is trimming the sail! Now he’s adjusting the jib. We’ve “come about” and are heading for Brianville! Note: There’s plenty more to say about my Mom and Dad, but that’s going to have to wait.

About Brian: It’s no accident that the title of this post is from a Monty Python movie (a parody of the life of Christ)! Brian loved all that Monty Python stuff, and so did I!

Here’s the prime difference between Natalie and Brian:

Natalie played-along with with society’s expectations of what she should do (at least during the day): Go to college, get her degree, work a boring job that paid fairly-well and had good benefits. It took her 14 years to realize it was killing her before she took her job and shoved it.

Brian, on the other hand, knew himself better. He waited-out one semester, and then gave it a half-hearted try for one semester at Southern Illinois University (home of the mighty Salukis). That was plenty! He had (almost) no further interest in “higher education”.

My memory isn’t what it once was, and much of this story may be a bit jumbled. But believe me, the things I’m about to tell you about my son are true, and I have plenty of tangible evidence to back me up. Here’s what I remember of his first 15 years after high school:

We gave him our old Dodge minivan as a high-school graduation gift. He tricked it out as his “purple pimpmobile” or some such thing, and after leaving SIU, headed out west. He spent a few months in a wonderful area near Boulder, Colorado, before heading to California.

He got an idea into his head: Why not get a work permit to work in New Zealand for a year? Indeed, why not? So he did! 

When he got to the South Island, he got an idea: He could take photos of tourists taking day cruises, jump into a speedboat, and develop and print the pictures by the time the boat returned! He could make a killing (this was just before digital cameras became affordable.) But….he needed a way-good camera. He told me he needed a medium-format camera that used film much larger than 35mm. I found one on eBay, won the bid for it, and had it shipped off to Queensland! Woo-hoo!

He decided to see some of the world on his way back. In New Guinea, he ran across some native folks butchering a whale they’d just caught. Packaging-up the blubber and such. Via sign language, he figured out what they were trying to tell him: “Hey, dude, we’re headed back out in our nifty dugout canoe (with side-rigger and sail) to get us another whale! You want to come along? You never forget it”! Brian knew where to draw the line, and politely said thanks, but no thanks.

In Bali, he suffered a potentially life-threatening gastroenteritis attack. We got a phone call. They needed us to buy him a plane ticket to Bangkok, the nearest place he could get proper treatment. Of course we did. He was hospitalized for several days. I believe he still suffers occasional latent symptoms.

Did he fly home then? No way! He had to see Cambodia and Vietnam first. He took some great pictures!

After that, Brian drifted up to Port Townsend, Washington. His Uncle Larry had been a cook on a commercial fishing boat in Alaska, and had even outfitted a galley one time. Brian had heard that good money could be made fishing in Alaska, and he’s always loved fishing. So, what the hey? He asked around and got picked-up as a deck-hand. He spent several seasons in Alaska, mostly safe “seining” in hatcheries close to shore. He worked the squid season near San Francisco at least twice. While back in Port Townsend, he learned to sail. He was saving-up for a sailboat of his own!

Author’s Notes, 6 a.m. the following morning: I’ve decided to take a cue from George Lukas and call this Episode IV. Hopefully, I’ll get back to episodes I-III faster than he did.  I also realize that I’ve not revealed what I think about Brian’s adult life, so here it is: There was nothing in Brian’s childhood that foreshadowed the astounding and remarkable adult life he was to lead! Brian has worked exceptionally hard to earn the adventurous life he has led. He has already led a more full and complete life than most people can conceive of (myself included). He has had glorious triumphs, and bitter, humiliating defeats. He has lost all his worldly possessions – twice! He has persevered in manly fashion, rising from the ashes (hint: His second boat was rechristened as Phoenix). In short, I have nothing but love and admiration for Brian’s conduct of his adult life. It’s a slow-motion movie, playing in real-time!

P.S.: A quick thank-you to Jen and Tony R., our near neighbors from all 16-1/2 years we have lived here in the BNE (Best Neighborhood Ever). Jen dropped a wonderful note in our mailbox yesterday. Jen is also a writer; she is finding inspiration in my blog. I am growing closer to many special people!

Past the Low Point?

Health Update: After breezing-through my 5th chemo treatment on Thursday and my 23rd radiation treatment on Friday, I finally hit the wall on Saturday: Couldn’t get hardly any solid food or liquids to squeeze past the tumor, leading to severe, long-lasting headaches and general weakness. My windpipe is so shredded that it is getting painful just to breathe. That was following by a sleepless night. I had to give-up the tennis for the remainder of the winter season.

However, Sunday was better. I was able to get a good amount of food and drink down, and had a good nap. I slept fairly-well Sunday night, and am feeling much better today. I’m eating and drinking much better now. They said Week 4 would be the toughest, so hopefully I’m over the hump! Four days to go: I’ll be ringing the bell Friday (watch for it here)!

What’s Next: Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away with Me!

March 31st: Last Treatment!
April 1st-6th: Regain strength; pack.
April 7th-14th: On vacation in the Virgin Islands with my daughter Natalie & Captain Rick!
April 15th-23rd: Complete initial recovery from the treatments.
April 24th: Repeat CT Scans
April 25th: Repeat PET Scan
April 26th: Meet the Surgeons at UC Health!
May: Surgery the third week of May (or NOT)!

Today’s poem by Graeme Edge of the Moody Blues:

“The Word”

This garden universe vibrates complete.
Some we get a sound so sweet.
Vibrations reach on up to become light,
And then thru gamma, out of sight.
Between the eyes and ears there lay,
The sounds of colour and the light of a sigh.
And to hear the sun, what a thing to believe.
But it’s all around if we could but perceive.
To know ultra-violet, infra-red and X-rays,
Beauty to find in so many ways.
Two notes of the chord, that’s our fluoroscope.
But to reach the chord is our life’s hope!
And to name the chord is important to some.
So they give a word, and the word is OM.

My Family: Each of us at a Turning Point

My friends, you cannot believe how wonderfully freeing this blog has become, and how many caring people I have re-engaged with so far. My life of outdoor adventure is turning into a life of inner adventure!

I need to step away from my musings on the past to bring you up to date on recent developments. But before reading on, please view this 2-minute video that my daughter sent me last week: The Secret of Life. If you like that one, Alan Watts has a series of ’em that elaborate on the theme. Please comment on how that video resonated with you!

Wow! Serious food for thought. My daughter questions why I never listen to music anymore. My reason has been that it keeps dragging my thoughts into the past. Combined with worries about the future, I felt myself not living much in the “present”, the “eternal now”, the only “time” we actually live in, moment-to-moment.

I’m the type of person who has repressed my emotions for most of my adult life. I’ve started listening to the Moody Blues a lot since I received that video. Emotions from my formative years are flooding-back. I’m becoming a more complete human being.

Health Update: I am still doing amazingly well. I’ve had 22 radiation treatments and five chemo treatments. The only time I feel weak and light-headed is when I overdo it in tennis. I am still playing twice a week, but not serving anymore (so I don’t get into extended rallies point-after-point-after point). It cuts the effort required in half. I am still playing the best tennis of my life. I got my fifth rolfing treatment Monday.

Prognosis: It’s not as rosy as I first thought. In fact it’s pretty grim.If I had waited much longer before getting diagnosed, the recommended treatment protocol would have been “palliative care”, which is basically Hasta la Vista, Baby, here’s your morphine.

The Surgery: My protocol calls for surgery 5-10 weeks following completion of the radiation and chemo treatments. There are two basic approaches: Open-up my chest so they can see what they’re doing, or do it orthoscopically using tiny cameras to try to see what they are doing. Here’s the plan of action:
1. Cut-out the lower 2/3’s of my esophagus, and the top part of my stomach
2. Staple-off 1/3 of my stomach, and throw away the other 2/3’s.
3. Reshape my stomach into an esophagus and punch a hole in the bottom of it.
4. Sew my new esophagus onto the old one skillfully enough that it doesn’t leak.
5. Oh, and install three tubes: One for feeding, and two other for God knows what.
6. And don’t forget: Complications are likely; some can be life-threatening. Some could drag on for years. Don’t plan on buying non-refundable vacation trips or plane tickets.

I’ll be fed through the feeding tube while healing takes place. Basic recovery will take six months to a year.For the rest of my life, all food and drink will fall directly into my small intestine (my stomach is gone). And lying-down flat will be a thing of the past, since whatever is in my small intestine would flow back into my throat!

I’ll be on the operating table 10-12 hours. 5% of the time, the patient dies on the table. On average, less than half live five years; most of those die in year one or two. They of course put what they took out under a microscope to see how much cancer they took out. About 25% of the time, they don’t find any! Zero! Zilch! Nada! What?! Are you kidding me? I really didn’t need this operation? Their answer: Well, of course you did: Your cancer isn’t going to come back where it was, because it’s not there anymore! It’s not clear how much the surgery would extend my life; it’s far more likely to extend my death!

Here’s MY plan: I’ll be getting more CT scans and a PET scan. If they don’t detect any cancer, they’re not operating on me. I plan to do “watchful waiting”: Check periodically whether any cancer is detectable or not. If/when they detect something, reassess. Until we find something, live my life to the fullest: Carpe Diem!

My daughter Natalie: Natalie was named after Natalie Wood, a film-star favorite of ours that died in a boating “accident” a few weeks before Natalie was born. We were living in South Bend, Indiana at the time (her latest moniker: Indiana Jose). I had just gone hi-tech with my music: A dual-cassette deck. Woo-hoo! I taped dozens of kids’ record albums, and we played them before and after she was born: Big Bird, Bert & Ernie (“Rubber Ducky”), and of course the Star Wars Christmas album! Our favorite: “What do you get a Wookie for Christmas, when he already owns a comb?“.

Natalie was singing and dancing and making-up plays by the time she was two. After we moved to Sewickley, PA she’d entertain her neighbors and friends on the back patio. She joined a choir in Sewickley, and the Young Naperville Singers after we moved to Illinois. She was in the play “Bye-Bye Birdie” in Junior High (but did not get the starring role). She did a little acting and singing in high school. She did some singing while attending Ohio University (a “top-10 party school”). She formed a Patsy Cline cover band (The Weepin’ Willows) after she moved to Chicago.

She worked a boring day job for an insurance company for eight years. She almost got hooked on the pay, benefits, security, etc. At night she learned “improv”, but hated it when someone stole the show from her. She switched to stand-up comedy, burning the candle at both ends for a couple years. Four years ago she made the leap: She quit her day job to pursue her passion for stand-up!

Note: I intended to add more here, but did not get back to it in time. I’ve corrected some typos and added some photos and links, so give it a second look!


Thanks to my Dad

A lot has happened in the past few days. I may not get to cover all of it the way I’d like to right away. Check back to to see what I might have added.

Today’s Thanks are to my Dad, for:

Teaching me strong ethical values
Teaching me to play baseball and tennis
Bringing me back a 3″ clay Indian figure every time he made a trip to Chicago. The collection is still my my attic. I will get my collection out soon, display it on my mantle, and take a picture of it. Brought brought different special gifts to my brothers.
Becoming an Assistant Scoutmaster in Boys Scouts during the years I was Scouts. I made Eagle Scout, as did both of my brothers.
Being the only one that ever gave me a nickname: Pal. He really did try to be my pal.
Teaching me by his example (and cryptic sayings, like “experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other.”) I eventually figured out what that meant.

Dad also carried a lot of baggage from his childhood experiences during the depression. He was the son of an alcoholic, and the oldest of four brothers. Here are some vignettes from his life:
In the mornings before going to school, he would somehow take one egg and turn it into four egg sandwiches, one for each boy.
Growing up, he learned to enjoy “sops” for breakfast. He would have it occasionally has an adult. Sops was essentially boiled bread with a tiny amount of sugar on it. As an adult he was able to have more sugar than he could as a kid.
His house was adjacent to the railyard and rail line. Like many of the folks at that time they used to walk the rails picking up coal that had fallen off the coal-cars. That was illegal! The train companies owned the land; that was their coal. They got one caught one time. The police asked him if his dad had put him up to it and of course he said yes. I think his dad spent the night in the hoosegow over that one.
Dad always did everything by the book. The only exception I ever heard was when they were shipping out of Shemya after the war. His buddy Gordon was very sick and unable to travel. But Dad and his buddy Wally snuck him out of the infirmary and onto the ship for the trip home with them.
More later……

Happy 43rd Wedding Anniversary to Us!

In the fall of 1973, I started a Masters Degree program in Systems Engineering at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland. I shared a room in Clark Tower, a graduate-student co-ed dorm, with Jim, a Music Major. I liked Jim (“The King”) a lot, but felt I needed a room to myself. I requested one and got it set up for second semester.

I arrived after the Christmas break, in early 1974. I took the elevator to the second floor and stepped off the elevator. I turned left toward my room and stopped in my tracks! There in the corner of the lobby TV room was very pretty girl with long curly blonde hair, slouched in her chair, watching the Cleveland Browns embarrass themselves. I was sure she’d have those blue eyes, too!

It wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but I felt certain that I was going to like living on the second floor a whole lot more than on six! So….

Thank-you Jen for these things, and all the other things you’ve been for me:

Being a loving and caring lifetime companion
Being the social glue bonding us with others
Being willing to resolve differences through discussion and compromise
Being a wonderful Mother to our children
Being a great cook and baker (even bread!)
Making houses into homes
Knitting very cool sweaters
Sewing clothes, costumes, etc.
Painting and plastering as required
Cutting my hair these last 20 years
Being a skilled whitewater kayaker, with multiple “combat rolls” to your credit, including two wild rides around “Snaggletooth Rock” on the Lower Yough River in Pennsylvania
Becoming a skilled adventure sea kayaker, cannoeist, and backpacker
Insisting we buy our Casita travel trailer, our home away from home
Being a talented and energetic tennis player; we play often with each other during the summer, and with others year-round.

Note that we bought our first (lake) kayaks in 2006, when I was 55. We bought whitewater boats in 2007; backpacking kicked-in around 2008, expedition canoeing about 2010, and expedition sea kayaking in 2013. Jen always was a tomboy! We’ve hauled a camper out West three times, and to Florida three times. We’ve done almost all of this as a couple, but sometimes one had to stay back to care for Winnie as she got older. Note: Winnie contracted Lime Disease, on her only backpacking trip. She was diagnosed a few months later, but was never quite the same again.

Health Update: I’m feeling fine, but am having increasing problems getting food to go down. I’d don’t have the time or energy tonight to talk about our meeting yesterday with the surgeon, nor do I have time to post some photos. Check back later for those.