Rudolph

We had a really nice day Saturday -- we're fully in the Christmas spirit now. We took Strudel to our favorite dog store so she could have her picture taken with Santa. I'll be sure to post it in a few days. The only hitch was, someone brought in a dog she had rescued from the streets of Guatamala. The dog was very nervous, and someone suggested maybe having Strudel go over to the dog would help him calm down. That was probably a mistake. We'll just leave it at that.

We also put up our Christmas tree and other decorations in the afternoon (while we had a nice fire going in the fireplace), and then after dinner, we watched some Christmas specials -- Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus is Coming to Town (which is the one with the Bergermeister Meisterberger. No family-approporiate videos available for that one. Sorry.). It was a very nice day.

I guess the only downside was watching Rudolph. It's still one of our family favorites, but as the kids get older (and as I get older), there are certain elements of the show that are...of questionable value.

First of all, everyone in the whole show is an S.O.B. Even his girlfriend Clarice is a jerk during their first meeting. "What's wrong with your nose?" she says. "You talk funny." Sweet girl. She redeems herself with the whole "You're cute" thing, but it seems like a power trip to me, always keeping him emotionally off balance. He should stay away from her.

Rudolph's father Donner is, of course, an ogre. You can tell this was made in the middle 1960's, with the way they treat someone who's a little different, physically.

But Santa is the absoluate worst of them all, which is what disturbs me most. He completely dismisses the head elf's attempt at a song that was written to please him, saying "Still needs work. I gotta go," and he takes off. Total diss. The worst, though -- when Rudolph's fake nose pops off during the reindeer games, and everyone makes fun of him, Santa's reaction to Rudolph's father is, "Donner, you should be ashamed of yourself."

Is it any wonder kids cry when they get put on Santa's lap? Who would want to hang out with this guy? Kids aren't afraid of the beard, or the loud "Ho ho ho," they're afraid Santa's going to look at their parents and say, "Gee Mom, Timmy's ears are a little big. You should be ashamed of yourself." Or maybe, "Gosh, Dad, looks like Sally got your weird looking eyebrows. How can you live with yourself?"

The best moments of our viewing, though, came from Peter. After Rudolph runs away, his father Donner vows to find him. When his mother says she wants to come, too, Donner says, "No -- this is man's work." When he heard that, Peter half-whispered "That's kind of sexist, isn't it?" And then after Yukon Cornelius pushes the snowman off the cliff, the narrator says, "While they were all very sad at the loss of their friend, they agreed it was best to get the womenfolk back to Christmastown as soon as possible." When it was over, Peter said, "That was the most sexist Christmas special I've ever seen."

It's sure a different world, isn't it? Not exactly a Mr. Rogers approved Christmas special.

Sorry if Rudolph is one of your favorites, and I ruined it for you. Come back in a couple of days when I ruin some of your favorite Christmas songs for you, too.

Watching and Waiting

As you know from the last entry, things are looking stable -- which is good -- so it looks like I'll keep watching and waiting for another three months.

Which is hard.

I had hoped for a CT scan sometime sooner than February, but Dr R and I talked, and it makes sense to hold off. Things are growing very slowly (if they're growing at all), so the scan would mean a probably unncessary expense and unncessary dose of radiation that won't tell us much of anything new. Maybe in three months, there will be enough of a change. Or maybe not, which will also be nice. But for now, everything is the same as it has been, including the way I've been feeling. Which is good.

This is, of course, what watching and waiting is all about. "Watching and waiting" is the term the doctors use; we patients sometimes call it "watching and worrying." It's come up recently in the support group, as it does every few months: watch and waiters are doing fine, but need to unload. Someone in the group just celebrated her third year anniversary of watching and waiting, which is awesome. And I've been e-mailing back and forth with a woman from Jersey. She's watching and waiting, about 37 years old, two kids. I know where she's at. Sometimes it's just a matter of wanting to know someone else understands and is going through the same things. We've traded some stories.

Probably two months ago, I felt a bump on the back of my head. It didn't go away for a few weeks. I know that lymphomas sometimes present themselves on the skin. If it was just more follicular lymphoma, then no big deal. I knew it wasn't anything aggressive -- I wasn't feeling any B symptoms. But that's how it goes with watching and waiting -- you just need to know. I knew my annual physical was coming up, so I waited and asked the GP to look at it. She said it looked benign. I called Dr. R, and he said it didn't sound like lymphoma -- he wasn't even worried enough to ask me to come in. But he suggested I see a dermatologist, just to ease my mind. Which I did. It was nothing.

But that's how it goes with watching and waiting. I used to think there would be times when I'd be feeling overconfident about how I was feeling. Overconfidence isn't good.

(That's for my brother -- I know how much he loves inspirational posters.)

But overconfidence isn't a problem. My confidence is just fine. I feel good about myself, my health, my doctors, my situation (see all those things I said I was thankful for last week -- I'm in pretty good shape).

I'm doing well. Just watching and waiting.

Dr. R

Well, I'm afraid I have nothing interesting to report from my visit with Dr. R today.

My bloodwork was great -- no big changes with anything. The physical exam was fine; nothing new popping up anywhere, and the one large cluster near my hip bone doesn't seem to have changed at all. And I'm still not seeing any B symptoms (night sweats, fevers, unexplained weight loss, etc.). It was kind of a boring visit. About the most exciting thing was that he's in a new office now -- the old one was less than a mile from home, and now he's a couple of towns away. So I got to meet the new office staff. Plus, it's right next to a Christmas Tree Shop, so I popped in afterwards to look for something interesting, but left after 5 minutes because it was packed with people, even at 1:30 on a Tuesday. Insanity.

We talked about my next CT scan. He wants to increase the length of time between office visits from 2 months to 3 months, since this slow-growing cancer is growing really slowly at this point. So he wants to do the next scan just before my next visit, which will be in late February. In some ways, I'm anxious for another scan, just to see what's going on. But he says there's likely going to be no change if we do it earlier (and of course, no guarantee there will be any change in 3 months when it's scheduled).

Makes sense. I'll wait until then.

All of that is good news, of course. He's not overly worried, so I won't be, either.

Back Home

Well, we're back home after a nearly 10 hour car trip from Maryland. Holiday traffic, compounded by a bad accident that shut down the New Jersey Turnpike for 3 hours.

Other than that, we had a great Thanksgiving. The kids loved playing with their baby cousin, and with the new Sugar Gliders that arrived in the pockets of their Ohio cousins. I manged to go on a nice 4 or 5 mile run with Mary and Lee (my running partners for the DC road race in July) between our big brunch and our bigger dinner on Thursday. On Friday, we all went downtown to see the World War II Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, and Korean War Veterens Memorial. Very cool stuff.

Thanks to all who helped make Thanksgiving so nice. (And that includes those of you who commented about or on my last blog entry.)

I see Dr. R on Tuesday for a two month checkup. I don't anticipate any major changes. I'll post something about the visit late Tuesday or some time Wednesday.

Giving Thanks

As tempting as it is do a Thanksgiving post that's a bunch of links to my favorite Thanksgiving sites (Snoopy wrestling with a lawn chair!), I'm going to resist. I'm feeling sentimental. As much as the last year has been, well, not very fun, there's still lots to be thankful for. I have a friend who sends a "What I'm Thankful For This Year" e-mail every year about this time, and my support group is starting to discuss what we're all thankful for, so I'm going to share with you.


I thankful for my doctors. I counted the business cards in my wallet: I've seen 11 different doctors in the last year. I'm thankful for all of them. I've been lucky to have excellent medical care, doctors that I like and trust. And that doesn't count the dozens of nurses, medical office workers, physicians assistants, radiological techs and phlebotomists that I've seen. There are darn few that I would say I'll never go to again.


I'm thankful for the researchers doing such great work in figuring out what NHL and cancer are all about, and how to make them go away. I'm thankful for groups like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society that raise funds to keep them going.


I'm thankful I have such a great job. Not only is it something I enjoy nearly every day, but more importantly, I have something close to lifetime job security, with a great medical insurance plan. I hear stories in the support group about people losing their jobs and their benefits, and I realize how lucky I am that I don't need to worry (too much) about that kind of thing.


I'm thankful for music. I've always loved to listen to it, and now I'm happy to be able to play it myself, which has been a lot of fun. I love to listen to my kids playing. Isabel and I always said we wanted a house filled with music, and when the kids were smaller, we'd play music after dinner every night. Now the kids are doing it for us. It's a nice thing.


I'm thankful for my support group. A lot of what I know about NHL has come from the people in the group. I've stopped doing a lot of research about NHL on my own, because someone in the group beats me to it and posts a link for everyone to read. They've been a wonderful source of information and inspiration for me. I've had a few bad days, and had some of them help pick me up. I've tried to do the same for them, and it's very satisyfing to have them say thank you for a few kind words I've passed along to them.


I'm thankful for readers of the blog that are complete strangers. Every now and then I'll get a comment or an e-mail thanking me for something I wrote, and it's from someone I don't know, usually another lymphoma patient, but not always. Cancer can bring on such a sense of helplessness sometimes. It's not as bad for me most days because I'm still asymptomatic, but the reality of watch and wait is that we know what it is we're waiting for. The blog began as a way to keep family and friends informed, but if you look again at my very first entry, I said maybe there was a chance that someone I didn't know would get something out of reading it. That has happened. Hearing from someone that the blog gas helped has been very empowering at a time when it's easy to feel powerless.


I'm thankful for readers of the blog that I do know -- friends, co-workers, nieces and nephews, cousins, in-laws. I love getting your comments on-line. I never know for sure who's still reading (I should have gone with a WordPress.com blog, which lets you track that sort of thing), so it's a delight to get an on-line comment and know there's still someone out there reading. It's great to get an off-line comment, too, a reference to something I wrote about, maybe from a co-worker passing me in the hall. I'm sure every blogger loves to get comments. For a writing teacher, knowing that readers are out there is even better. I thank you all for your support.


I'm thankful for my parents. They always said I never really gave them much to worry about (at least until they figured out that I was just really good at hiding all the worrisome things from them). Now I've made up for it all, and given them plenty to worry about. I'm so thankful for everything they've done for me, and even more for how strong they've been in the last 10 months or so.


I'm thankful for my brother. Last year, the day after Thanksgiving, he and I spent about 8 hours together, browsing for fishing and boating gear, eating horrible bar food, drinking cheap beer, and playing pool. It was the most time we'd spent together in years, and it was great. Since the diagnosis, we've become even closer. I'm thankful for all of his comments on the blog, even the inappropriate comments, for his phone calls when I go a few too many days between postings, and his e-mails when I seem down. (OK, I'm especially thankful for the inappropriate comments.)


I'm thankful for my kids. They bring me great joy. They drive me nuts sometimes, but that's part of the deal, I know. I love doing special things with each of them -- bike rides and watching sports with Peter, cooking and exploring nature with John, watching Disney movies and dancing with Catherine. They're a blast. I'm proud of how well they've been handling all of this.


And I'm mostly thankful for Isabel. She had no idea what she was getting into when she promised that whole "sickness and health" thing -- no one ever does. She 's been so strong, so positive, so supportive through all of this. I heard someone say once that in a good marriage, you take turns being crazy. We've managed to do that, balancing each other out, being positive when the other is feeling bad, energetic when the other is tired, sane when the other is crazy. It's a great comfort to know when I'm down, she'll be up. Love you.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

The Battle

I've been battling a nasty cold for a few days, and it's been wiping me out. No running -- I'm conserving my energy for grading papers and eating dinner on Thanksgiving, so I don't have much to say.

Instead, I'm just going to pass on a link. It's from one of my favorite writers, Bill Simmons, who does a column for ESPN.com called The Sports Guy. Simmons is just about my age, and grew up in Massachusetts (huge Sox, Pats, Celts, and Bruins fan), so a lot of what he writes really hits home for me.

A couple of days ago, he wrote about a treasured memory from the 70's -- a nasty episode of Battle of the Network Stars. Those of you who are of a certain age will remember the show, and maybe even the episode. Click here if you need a reminder of what BotNS was all about. Then take a look at his column -- first watch the clip, and then read his column.

It's great -- politically incorrect commentary, "athletes" puffing on cigarrettes, and an ABC team that features both Lynda Carter and Farrah Fawcett. Holy moly.

More next week, when I feel better.

Mr McFeely

I need to send out a great big Thank You to Kelly and Josh. A few days ago, I got a package from them with a copy of Mr. Rogers' book, You Are Special: Words of Wisdom for All Ages from a Beloved Neighbor. But the best part was, it was autographed to me by Mr. McFeely, the delivery man from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, and also included an autographed picture from Mr. McFeely, reproduced here:

I wrote to Kelly to thank her, and to find out how she obtained such treasures. Kelly told me that there was an event at a local museum and Mr. McFeely was there. Since Mr. Rogers had come up on the blog recently, she thought I'd appreciate the gifts. I sure do!

(Kelly and Josh -- I never thanked you on the blog for your first gift, a nice knit hat that includes, shall we say, a message to cancer conveying both my feelings toward cancer and my attitude about it. It's a four letter thing. Can't really put it online. Or wear it anywhere. But thanks again for it.)

I assume everyone remembers Mr. McFeely. Here's a clip to remind you -- Mr. McFeely is trying figure out who in the Neighborhood of Make Believe ordered a bunch of sand. "McFeely" is actually Mr. Rogers real middle name, in case you were wondering where the name came from.

The actor who plays Mr. McFeely is David Newell. He travels the country now, promoting Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, trying to keep the legacy alive. A documentary of his travels came out this year; it's called Speedy Delivery. It was on PBS earlier this year, and is out on DVD now. You can see the trailer at the film's official website.

The book that Kelly and Josh sent is very nice. It's a series of short quotes from Mr. Rogers on all kinds of subjects. He was a very positive person, but a very realistic one, too. A sample:

"There is no normal life that is free of pain. It's the very wrestling with our problems that can be the impetus for our growth."

Amen.

*****************************

Now, a message for my brother:

I appreciate your holding back and not saying anything about Barry Manilow. I tried really hard to find some connection between Mr. Rogers and Barry Manilow for you, but there was virtually nothing. You'd think that the two of them, as songwriters, would be featured somewhere together.

Here's the best I could find: an eBay ad for a People Magazine from 1978. Shaun Cassidy is the cover, but there are separate articles inside on both Mr. Rogers and Barry Manilow. As far as I can tell, that's the closest they ever came to meeting.

(Looks like a fabulous issue. There are also articles on Chuck Mangione, Bob Marley, Dennis Kucinich, Richard Nixon, Dolly Parton, and Madeline Kahn. How's that for a dinner party invitation list?)