Columbus and the Valley

Five Million Words Escaped Me

Women supposedly speak about 20,000 words per day, a number that is exactly 13,000 more words than the average man speaks during that same day. That means around about 160,000 words are spoken in our office each day by the eight women who are here every day. Another 80,000 are spoken by four other women who are close to me, but are not office mates. So, how in the hell did 12 women speaking a total of 240,000 words per day over a three-week period (which would yield just over 5 million words) keep one single word from getting to me about the fantastically sweet surprise that they, in cahoots with you, delivered to me at lunchtime today.

I knew this was not going to be a typical office lunch today for two reasons: It seemed to be planned days in advance and Rick McKnight, organist and Kiddie clothier extraordinaire, Betsy Covington and Ellen Brooks from the Community Foundation of the Chattahoochee Valley and Cyndy Cerbin from the National Infantry Museum were present. We took advantage of this glorious blue-bird-sky day to have lunch outside on the Houlihan’s patio under two large umbrellas. We ordered drinks and food and eloquent Betsy called us to order. She really did! She does that at Rotary every Wednesday and she’s quite good at it.

She said that the assembled group (Julie Chandler, Callie Sprague, Jenn Apffel, Cyndy Cerbin, Ellen Brooks, Rick McKnight, Betsy Covington, Marquette McKnight, Shelley Dean, Helena Coates) had been talking about the concerns I had blogged about — the one about going for treatment at Emory where I wouldn’t be among friends. My greatest fear has been going outside the comfort zone, surrounded by my friends/healthcare professionals here in Columbus. Betsy continued by saying that the group at the table, with some help from our computer consultant, Gerrit DeWitt, had initiated a three-week campaign to gather my army of supporters to send messages of encouragement to be placed in a journal and signatures on a T-shirt so that anyone who saw me coming at Emory would know I was there along with what Sherrie Watkins called my “traveling Verizon network.”

Betsy handed me a gift bag that contained the fruits of all this labor. First, a colorful T-shirt that says “I am strong, hell of a writer, amazing, beloved, mighty warrior, determined, heroic, courageous, prepared for battle, foul-mouthed follower of God! Secondly, a cd from Rick containing an organ-accompanied choral rendition of the poem “Fight the Good Fight.” And, a journal with photographs, handwritten messages and printed emails from dozens of my friends and regular readers of this blog. I’m speechless — but I have managed to cobble this post together to say thanks to these wonderful friends who joined Jill and me for lunch today and the hundreds of others, like you, who read this blog and are following us on our journey.

I expected this post to be the one that let all of you know about my next trip to Emory to set up the SRS, but I am still waiting to hear about the consultation between Drs. Stapleford and Hadjapanayis about the viability of SRS as a treatment for this spinal metastasis of my kidney cancer. Honestly, I know they’re busy up there, but going into a weekend with questions unanswered just sucks. My blood pressure has responded with a predictable upward trend line that I’m beating back into submission with a new medication.

This post is a big ol’ thank you for the This-is-Your-Life moment I had at your hands at lunch today. If this is a taste of what next March 19 at the American Cancer Society’s 2011 Crystal Ball is going to be like, I’m not sure I can take it. People, let me tell you, I’m smiling like Woodstock right now. Getting to feel the love of all the people who love you while you’re still alive and kicking is impossibly wonderful. I’m moved beyond words and Jill and I are most thankful for this gesture of kindness and support.

I’ll post again as soon as I get the call I’m so anxiously awaiting.

Quiet Period

My last post was April 21. Today is May 31. I apologize for the apparent lack of respect for my readers. A lot has happened since my last post. Most of it you wouldn’t care about. That is, for me, the exciting part. There aren’t any ghastly, life-changing or interesting medical situations to report. When you’re a cancer survivor that’s what you hope for — mundane, just-like-everyone-else days without needle sticks, blood draws and face time with people in white coats. I hope you’ll respect that I just needed some time to forget about medical things like making co-payments, filling prescriptions and lining up tests and procedures. Thanks be to God, I am now winding down my participation in the ASSURE clinical trial (end of 7th of 9 rounds) and my scans are on an every 6-month schedule. The down time has been good for me and for my family. It has felt good to put down the moments of sheer terror and replace them with a few hours of medical boredom. Medical boredom would suit the hell out of me for the remainder of what I plan to be a long, long life. I hope God has that same plan for me. I love it when a plan comes together.

During this down time, I have remained focused on getting back into shape. I still follow a mostly vegetarian diet and Jill and I have joined our fantastic new YMCA and have participated in a number of exercise classes. Yoga, spin, body pump, Zumba and turbo kick classes have been interesting and exhausting. My weight is down about 25 pounds from where I began on 12/31/09 and it is holding steady and dropping very slowly (which is what my nutritionist and my nephrologist want).

I was in the office one day and my phone rang. My friend and coffee guru, John Woodward, was on the other end of the line and he said, “I’ve got something to tell you that I think you’ll be interested in.” That phone call has spawned a new hobby, a big, after-cancer physical challenge and another thing for all my sister-wives at work (Jill, Marquette, Helena and Callie) to nag me about. I’m training for a once-in-a-lifetime two-week river adventure that will begin on my father’s birthday this fall. I, along with 30-ish other people will be paddling from Columbus to the Gulf of Mexico in sea kayaks. We’ll go down the Chattahoochee River, through 2 sets of locks into the Apalachicola River and right out into the Gulf of Mexico. This is exactly what I needed to provide me with a physical goal to really get back into shape.

I accepted the challenge before I had ever even set foot in a kayak. I have now been out 4 times and am getting accustomed to paddling and being inside one of these sleek, tippy boats. In case you didn’t know, the Chattahoochee Paddling Club is a well oiled machine. The club has 40 or 50 members and has a great Yahoo Groups website, a full calendar and holds interesting meetings that teach people about the wonders of kayaking. Here is a link to the club’s website. You can go there and see what is available for people with an interest in paddling.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ChattahoocheePaddlingClub/

Last Saturday, the club sponsored a Strokes class, which was a 4-hour training session on the various strokes a kayaker needs to have in his/her arsenal. This Saturday is the Safety/Rescue class where the all-important means to rescue oneself will be taught — and I hope learned. The people whom I’ve met are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Having them in my life has added a wonderful new dimension to a life already busting at the seams with good friends. I’m looking forward to the trip and the opportunity to showcase some of the wonders of the river system in Columbus and the Valley magazine. More later on this subject.

One of the added benefits of this trip will be an opportunity to do some bonding with a new acquaintance, Gary Bayer, who is also the husband of Jill’s cousin, Jane Bayer. Jane is newly employed at the National Infantry Museum and Gary is a clinical psychologist. They recently moved here from Memphis and are busy putting their roots back into Chattahoochee Valley soil. Gary is an interesting guy and is all about a trip like this. He is a resourceful adventurer and is a lot of fun to be around. I know we’re going to have a ball on this trip. I also have found a mobile battery for my cpap machine, so it looks like the rest of the campers on the trip will be able to hear a snake sneaking up on them.

Again, thanks for bearing with me during a brief, but much-needed quiet time. There will be a lot to tell as I prepare my mind and body for a 265-mile paddling adventure. I’ll be blogging my way along the trip. Should make for some interesting blog posts. The best news is that there will also be some incredible photography to go along with my writings, because local photographer, Mike Culpepper, is also planning to go along for most, if not all, of the trip! I can’t wait to see what his accomplished, photographic eyes will see.