what’s cancer’s cost?

What is the value of a life? Here is the tally for eighteen months of mine, estimated. Read the rest of this entry »

positron, cancer and carbs

A positron is an electron with a positive charge. Some say it gets this charge by traveling backward through time. Read the rest of this entry »

ok to be weak

When I grew up we were emotional islands. Read the rest of this entry »


Cancer when you are trying to be rid of it haunts you. Read the rest of this entry »

happy day

Was thinking of presents. Read the rest of this entry »


One more scan, less than five minutes on the table while the MRI whirrs around you. The tech is friendly, she is a cancer survivor and we compare scars. “Who’s your surgeon, Donzelli? Mine too, isn’t he just the best.” All done, then it’s off to wait.

Today a call, “We found a brain, and no masses”. If only I had this evidence of a brain when my daughters were teens. They would never have believed it.


6 month checkup

It is six months after my surgery, about 4 months after the radiation and I just had a followup with the surgeon. Everything seems on target until January when they test again. The spots that hurt even now are just healing, and that will continue for some months more. That’s a relief.

So all things considered, life is pretty good. I have ridden my bicycle about 932 miles since January, would be a 1,000 but for a nasty cold and sinus infection I am fighting. If you have sent me good thoughts and prayers, thanks I appreciate it. And I always appreciate your stopping by.
I plan to keep working out, eating well, and continuing to get stronger.



The waiting in the office is always hard. Reviewing an old magazine with cover ripped asunder allows me to keep hopes and fears in that quiet place inside my heart. People come and go ahead of me, flawed or damaged, just like me incapable of self determination. Instead we wait for counsel from this oracle of health, while I pretend last year’s news intrigues me.

Finally they call my name, and the dance of protocol ensues, a history, weight, blood pressure recorded, so many little steps while the one big question remains unstated.

Tell me good news
Cancer vanquished in the spring
Hope follows darkness

I feel a softness flow over me, relief so tangible I can almost see it move over my body. Yet there is no giddiness, no celebration. I can feel my wife smile, and hear her sigh of relief. But my thoughts are with others who will not hear this same news. How odd, not what I expected to feel. Perhaps I am not the man I was before.

Your shadow lingers
I have stepped into the light
hold my hand tightly

Perhaps tomorrow I will be. There is a stillness, a zen state that comes to me.

Stillness surprises man
The trap escaped, key in hand
dreams live, if he dares

Back at work, a deep exhaustion overcomes me. The day ends. Once home, I lie on the floor and close my eyes while my wife reads patiently nearby.

If you have prayed or hoped for me, I thank you. You have proved to me John Dunne’s words that no man is an island.

cancer haiku

one vial of blood
seeking protein for the truth
spring or winter comes

Dropped in to give a vial of blood in preparation for the appt on the 23rd. If you feel sorry for yourself just go to an urgent care center.

false bravado

Eric Alagan has a very inspirational blog. Insightful and filled with out of the box thinking it often stirs up a quick response of a haiku or poem or short story.  See his blog here: http://ericalaganfanclub.wordpress.com/2012/03/30/my-fear/

This post recently spoke about fears and was filled with honest responses from many people and I dashed this off.

I do not fear death for that will bring peace.
I fear to open my heart and have it rejected,
laughed at as folly.

I do not fear the battle,
I fear the quiet after and my own thoughts.

I do not fear age, I fear helplessness,
and meaningless, and pity.

I do not fear tomorrow, but I fear for my children in the
world we have left them.

But I have been thinking of it, and as a cancer patient with a followup test in two days to determine if I need more treatment I realize it was dashed off with false bravado. I would rewrite it more honestly as:

Although I fear death for it will separate me from those I love,
I will not quail before it, for it will bring peace, and heaven.
I fear more to open my heart and have it rejected,
laughed at as folly.

I fear the battle, but I will face the surgeries, the nausea
the pain with a warrior’s heart, but still
I fear the quiet after and my own thoughts.

I fear age, I fear helplessness,
and meaningless, and pity,
being humbled by that unconquerable foe, time.
But I will stand before it with what dignity I can manage.

I do not fear tomorrow, but I fear for my children in the
world we have left them, and yet still they fill me with hope.