another unwanted hospital visit

Dear Friends,
My hands are a bit weak, perhaps simply from lack of use in the hospital. So I'll l have to keep this short. Forgive my typos. I'm also extremely tired. This week, I am glad I made it through. I wasn't sure that I would. It is truly by God's grace. How can we take forgranted a nasty fight against pnumonea and cancer, while coming out a week later not much worse for it anything less than grace! Please pray for continued recovery as I'm not there yet. I also continue to be tired almost continuously. Ick! It's very hard to get things completed, much less started. Next time I will write about clinlical trials as promised if I have the strength. For now, feel free to visit caringbridge.org for mor detailed info that my mother faithfully posts.


Adam

Clinical Trials

Before I dig in, I want to assure you all that you can still comment anonymously, even though it may take two or three clicks to make it go through. Save your comment to a Word doc and try again if it doesn't work the first time. Sorry to those of you having trouble.

Clinical trials lie before us. They are our "last hope", our "final option". It may be that desert mirrage that the thirsty cartoon caracter famously dives into, thinking it's an inviting pool of water. It may be no more useful that my former habits of taking 20 vitamin and mineral supplments per day. It may be as useful as sugar tablets. Clinical trials are the Great Unknown, the Final Frontier of colon cancer. We don't know what lies ahead, we don't know where we're going, and we don't know how to get there. We do know it will be an expensive journey that will require sacrifice, great effort, and much preparation.

I have gone through much preparation already. As I've told you, there were a multitute of tests regarding my general health. The doctors want to make sure I'm able to finish the journey before I start it. This seems very wise to me. Who am I to determine whether I'm able to make it to the end. Before I get started, I'll be put through many many more tests, undergo numberous sessions of questioning. Most importantly to me, I'll learn the risks and potential rewards of undergoing this particular study. I'm sure this will be overwhelming to me. Being driven in will be the very real possibility of death by drugs. These test subjects really are just a few steps up from laboratory rats. While I'm hopeful for healing for myself, I am hopeful that I will be able to make valuable contributions to medical science. I am hopeful that by puting myself through these tests, that cures may come closer to reality for those suffering from my same condition.

Beyond what I've written, I don't really have any certainty. I have no trial lined up to get into. Just hoping and trusting that God always does what is right. I'm going into this with some excitement, some fears, uncertainty, hope. Maybe like a job interview for which I don't know the qualifications. Except potential employees don't prob, prod, stab, and sample.

I haven't even made mention as to where I'm going yet. My first venture is this week to Karmanos Cancer Institute in Detroit. Several of you already expressed surprise that I've never been to Detroit before. Well, here it is again. There, I'll be evaluated for whatever Phase I trials they have that may be useful to me. I'm going there blind. My second trek is to metro Washington DC to the National Institute of Health. They have what appears a very interesting Phase II study that my doctor and I are hoping to get me qualified for. These are Very Small Studies. Only 38 participants are allowed. What are my chances? And what's there to do now? I'd say, eat chocolate and play on my new Kindle which will entertain me for countless hours in upcoming road/air trips.

My latest condition update and thoughts on it

Some of you may have heard already that the news is not so good. On Thursday, I received the hard news that my latest and last available round of chemotherapy is not working and the my cancer is growing and spreading. The speed of which I do not know. As most of you already know, I am looking for clinical trials as a "last ditch" effort. I will try to be clear and concise about my thoughts on this. For me, it is not a difficult topic, but I don't want to sound as if I understand or know it all.

What does this disease progress mean? The first thing it means to me is the potential of pain. Up to this point, I have had no lasting pain. I am beginning to feel that I have this nasty disease growing within my body. I feel it a little bit when I sleep, and it is causing some swallowing difficulty. The physical reality of the disease is dawning on me. It also keeps me in constant view of the bed -- sleeping always sounds like a wonderful relief to me. I'll never discourage the suggestion of sleep. But would I ever have? A nap has always sounded like a good idea. But it also means that I miss out on a lot of things that otherwise would sound good to me. Also, I don't think that I'd eat if food weren't given to me. Perhaps I'd get hungry after a while, but I'd certainly be in a nearly skeletal state by then

How bout the other pressing issues? There is the reality of death. I hesitate to mention this on a blog. But as I say, people have asked me to be frank. I will be brief on this. I believe that God has already established the length of my days long before I came into existence. There is nothing I can do to add a day to my life. I think more than anything, I should be thankful to know that my life may be nearing an end. I have a chance to get my affairs in order. God certainly could have ordained that I expire in a car crash, or by heart failure, or some quick, painful illness. He has not. Shouldn't I be grateful for this mercy? A minister I was listening to today said this in a sermon on Job: God will never take away anything unless he intends to replace it with something better. The Apostle Paul also said such a thing, To live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Well, there are other things. I'll try to keep this little side serious series running in parallel with the regular infrequent postings.

Dear Blood Clot,

Your payment for room and board in my left thigh is more that a week overdue. Your residence of over three weeks is now no longer welcome. Reviewing your renter history, your landlord has found that you disturb the whole rental unit: you do not allow others to comfortably exercise on the premises without your interferenece; you often cause physical pain to those living in nearby units; and early on it came to my attention that you're causing "bad air" throughout the unit, making it difficult for others to breath at times. Your eviction process will be lengthy.

You have already avoided the attempts of the Coumadin agency to remove you. Coumadin was an agency that required too much time an oversight. Because of that, Lovanox has been employed. I am very pleased with its results so far. As your belongings have been moving out, the other residents have been complaining less frequently. It has been noted that the upper left thigh has been in less pain, and the fatigue you've been causing the entire left leg is subsiding. Subsequently, the whole community has been able to excersise in more comfort. I speak for the community when I say that we will all be in better spirits when you are gone.

I must take some of the blame for failing to screen you out as a renter from the start. Illness previous to your arrival prevented me from my normal activities, thereby preventing me from fully screening your application. I did not notice that you wanted not only the leg space, you also wanted to invade the lungs. I also note now that Mr Cancer was one of your references. From here on, I will be more active, and I will screen my applications more thoroughly.

Mr Clot, you have caused me to realize the importance of taking more active management of my prized rental property. Joy will abound in this property more so after you have left than before you arrived. The landlord did not realize just how good he had it with the previous renters. I have also enlisted the help of Mr Father and Mrs Mother to help me care better for the property while you are here. They are doing a superb job.

Your landlord,



Adam

Birthday

Another birthday has been had. This was a surprise to me. The pain, aching, hospitalizations, fatigue, dizziness of the past several weeks has made that rather questionable -- or at least the enjoyability of another birthday. But this makes 31! Not exactly a milestone to most. Not a desirable age to most. Generally, just not something to write about. Well, I am writing about it, because for me, it's significant, as you all see.

I gather I had over 30 people at the homestead during Saturday evening. Thank you to everyone who came, even when you did wear me out to the point that I'd rather have been in bed. I really enjoyed your company, thought, and chocolate. Just so you know, I have enough chocolate to last a lifetime while still opening a little streetside market. I love it all and will certainly try it. Does anyone have any favorite hats? Thank you all for your true care and love.

Sunday is an energizing day. Today I got some sitting in the sun, reading some great books, and hearing some intense sermons making the gospel much more meaningful to the suffering body. The gospel is so much sweeter in suffering as perhaps you've experienced.

Blahhhh

Lots has gone on, but I feel I have little to say. I just got out of hospital on Saturday. I was in for a bloodclot in my leg. The doctors and nurses keep calling it a DVT. I don't know why they don't just speak in human terms. Once again, I had lots of visitors -- 10 at one time in an evening. This time, bloodclot is actually painful, which is a first. I had pain in my upper left leg for several days. Finally, swelling ensued. The doctor received a late evening call and finally told me to get meself to the ER, which I promtly did. I was admitted at 3AM, and we all got a few hours of sleep before breakfast came as a great disturbance.

Lots of narration to do, but I don't really want to. Nor do I think it particularly necessary. I haven't been feeling up to narrating for a while. So I'll bypass that and maybe come back to it in a while. I think I've had much to learn over the past couple setbacks. As you know, I've had a shoulder fracture which required my arm be in minimal use for the past month. Also, the aformentioned bloodclot in the left leg. What does all this mean? I've been feeling pretty good up to this point. So now there's some discomfort and temporary disability.

What have I learned? First, it's possible to get by with one arm (although the second hand has been available to help out on certain things, so one armed, two-handed). Second, it is possible to get around on one working leg, while hobbling around on the second. What makes it possible? Two parents who take care of my every need! Wow! Thanks to both Mom and Dad! I'm working on getting back to both feet and both arms. I'm quite excited. I have learned all the things that I cannot do without arm and leg. I will much appreciate having full ability again as I have a bit of understanding what it's like to have some minor disabilities. Yesterday I found it  more than a bit fatiguing to make it from car to blood lab for some routine testing.

Some other things I should be learning but don't think I am? Patience -- when I want something and can't get it immidiately for myself; Humility -- none of the good or bad is from myself, etc. I really should go into that more (no, I'm not a fatalist); oh so many other things.

Now that I think about it, there's so much to say. I've been working on this for a while and I'm easily distracted by things I think are more fun, so it takes me a lot more time to do this than you might think it should. But for now, I'm finished. Let me know if there's something particular you want me to write on -- an assignment, if you will. That will make for a good challenge for me! (of course I might not do it)

Thanks

I have many things to write about. First, I want to make note to all who have commented on my postings, how much I appreciate your comments, long or short. I don't comment on any of them or I'd have to comment on all of them. So I'd certainly leave some out and assuredly hurt some feelings. So thanks to all. Also, thanks to all who pray, visit, think of me, or think of thinking of me. I know how difficult it is to remember all my friends who are hurting, in need, going through something difficult, rejoicing over something, or otherwise in need of thoughts and prayers. So I can't blame anyone.

Two Weeks

That's how long it's been since I last posted. It seems like a lot longer. Perhaps that's because I've been through quite a lot since that time. My arm is healing day-by-day, and I'm now typing two handed. What a relief! Although it's still in sling for another 3 weeks. I have more energy than in past, and I can walk unaided again. None of these past trials give motivation for despair. Although upping from bed is a challenge, each day brings a few new things to learn and do. Fortunately I was to be at church again this past Sunday evening after having been absent the past three weeks.

As I get up every morning, I remind myself of many things. Particularly what comes to mind is Psalm 27, the end of which says "Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord."

Misserable

It will be hard to make you feel sorry for me as I tell you about my experience in my hospital room crowded with friends, family, and loved ones for four days straight, but I am going to do my best. As many of you already know, I was rushed to hospital in a dark ambulance early last Friday morning upon my mother's alert dog's notifying my parents of a problem: My body had seized-up in the wee hours of the morning as result of a brain metastasis. This resulted in the fracturing of my left shoulder. I'm told this was quite painful for me, but I have no memory of it.

I don't mean to make light of this difficult situation. I was, and am, in some serious trouble. Hours after arriving, another seizure hit. This was more than a little disturbing to those around. However, my memory begins foggily with the awareness of the presence of Mother, Father, and several friends, and perhaps sister at bedside. I was pleasantly doped-up and highly oxygenated. The comfort levels of the coming days varied, and the bright yellow "Fall Risk" arm band secured to my wrist indicated how I felt upon standing-up during the first few days. The low-lights of a hospital stay do not need to be reinforced!

Saturday I was informed by my niece and nephew that I had several early birthday presents to be delivered immediately. The first was a rubber chicken and four Sharpie pens -- this because I was fitted with a useless soft sling, rather than a hard cast for my hurt shoulder. You guessed it! I needed something upon which to collect signatures of my doctors, nurses, aides, family, and friends. The various delighted responses to my dictate to "Sign that chicken over there. . . " were priceless. Each joyously added a special signature. Doctor B's signature stands distinctly on the belly.

Additionally, my room was maxed-out with balloons, plants, drawings, posters, flowers, sweets. . . I cannot name everything. I wish I could thank you all individually. I would also thank those who brought nothing. You are all valuable to me, not just your gifts.

I'm home now, as are the balloons, etc. My parents are marvelousely taking care of me and stuffing me with more protien and calories than I've ever seen in my life. Unfortunately, I will not be driving for many a month. . .

There is much more to write, and I acknowledge that this report lacks completeness, seriousness, humor, and many other things that require two working hands to include. Unfortunately, I only have one for the time. I will fill in more details in future postings. However, my right hand is tired, and it is now being given a much needed rest.

Studying

My study text of choice for the week, based on the suggestion of a friend, is this:

Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Philippians 1:18-21

Distracted from Reality

Distraction is the best momentary cure for pain. I have found the playing with the dog, reading the news, talking with friends over an Indian buffet are all good distractions for the pain. That is all last week's news. This week is different. This week, distractions have been a bad thing. This week, distractions kept me from proclaiming some good news: The pain and aching of the shoulders and neck are nearly gone! Yes! they have been gradually subsiding. I am not sure whether to attribute this to a change in diet, a misunderstanding of the actual cause of the pain, or perhaps some real healing. But it is true nonetheless.

Many of you have prayed for my physical healing. I am not ready to say that any healing of my disease has occurred. But I am certainly experiencing temporary and unexpected relief. I think this in itself is an answer to prayer. If, in this small healing, God has been glorified, then good has come out of my current suffering.

Tools of the Trade

It's hard to be excited about being cut-off from a potentially life-saving drug. At the same time, it's difficult to be devastated about being freed from the grips of a toxic, potentially lethal cocktail. Modern medicine has made for a nearly impossible dilemma: "Accept out potions -- they may help you, but we promise you nothing", or "Reject our therapies, and we can promise you nothing". Or perhaps these decisions are not new to modern medicine. I presume they were faced by every patient over the millennia.

At the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN last Summer, I took an enlightening stroll through the beautiful and historical Mayo Building, in which the Mayo Museum was contained. The museum included biographies of the founders and medical milestones achieved at the Clinic. This being several months after my first surgery, I had already "seen" the scalpel and other tools of the trade although I had never laid eyes on them. But all this experience did not make me ready for what I encountered in the next room of the museum: the "tools of the trade" from days gone by. I was not prepared to be horrified. The scalpel, the drill, the saw, the clamps, the stitching needles. These did not look like the tools to be found in a sterile operating room. Rather, I imagined them scattered on my father's dirty work bench in the dingy basement among metal shavings and wood scraps! I envisioned my kind doctor using such instruments to cut through my flesh.

Needless to say, these horrifying sights changed my perception of medicine. I am not alone when I classify these tools from a century ago as barbaric! I have made a decision not to look at currently used tools, as they come too close to home.

Through the course of my current infirmities, I have experienced many of the tools: chemotherapies, radiation, surgeries, invasive testing. The mechanisms by which each of these is designed to work astounds me. Chemotherapy, although it has come a long way over the years, is designed to kill a wide variety cells -- unhealthy and healthy. Radiation is designed to kill a wide variety of cells -- healthy and unhealthy -- along the way, doing extensive damage to fine DNA. Both of these tools have a nearly infinite list of known risks. Some of the risks include cancer. The list of unknown risks certainly extends much further. Surgery, too, has more risks than I care to think about and has consequences that are often as frustrating as the primary disease.

I write this as I am waiting, once again, for my oncologist to call with the recommended course of action. The reprieve from chemotherapies gives me great joy! I have no notable aches or pains, no skin rash, no digestive disagreements, and no fatigue. Minimal symptoms from the ailment, and no side-effects from the treatments. I am at ease, but not for long. Soon the dilemma will return: disease or poison. I believe that the later term will commonly used by those of later generations looking back as the 21st Centry fades into the next. These plush, high-ceiling radiation therapy rooms in which we place our trust will be museum items that terrify. And descriptions of the barbarous chemotherapies will send shivers down the spines of children. These are the tools laid out in the sterile 21st Century operating room.

Some Real News

As I pack my jeans away in a full drawer, a tinge of pain trickles up my forearm, through the shoulder, and up the lower portion of my neck. If I straighten back up and stand still again, I can't feel it at all. A nice relief.

It started out innocently enough. My right shoulder. It gets used a lot. I throw with it. My right hand wrestles ropes from the Irish Terrier. Frisbee golf, and even some Ultimate are new experiences for it. And besides, I've slept on my shoulder wrong countless times only to wake up with a stiff joint and pain through mid-morning. Certainly there was nothing wrong that a few days rest couldn't take care of. After it heals up, I'll be able to sleep comfortably again.

After about a week of mild discomfort, instead of getting better, the aches moved a little farther toward the neck, then continued to inch up. A little unusual for some overworked muscles. But optimism persists, well, because the patient is on treatment to keep things at bay.

My sense of optimism isn't absolutely unshakable though. It began to fail me a few nights before the upcoming engagement with the doctor. A tinge of worry. Two days later, the family loaded up into the car for the usual trip into town to the clinic. Transposing from reception area to waiting room always involves a journey past the doctors' preparatory area where we noted the doctor staring blankly at a screen, as if not knowing quite what to do with it. Certainly it is hard for doctors to have undesirable news, as it is for patients to receive it.

I hint then, at the coming events, trying not to get ahead of myself. Naturally, the doctor will enter the room. He will bring news. And it will not be good. There are few good ways to tell a patient that the recommended treatment, touted as the very best option, has done nothing for him and will be discontinued. The doctor delivered it in the best way he could. And for that I commend him. He is indeed a good man, if limited in resources.

For the moment, I give you the dry version of the story, which is easy to tell. A later session will highlight other aspects. The lesson here is that my treatments have, for the time being, come to an end. I have one more treatment option which is a drug cocktail similar to what I received as the first line of treatment. This worked well the first time, and I am hopeful that it might work with some success the second time around. But the chances are slight. The other possibility is to submit to the unknown and dive into a promising clinical trial. My doctor is placing phone calls, perhaps as I write, to the various medical clinics around the country to identify potential clinical trials that might be an option for me. I do remain hopeful! A bit of good news, a CT scan shows my brain is still in working order, and no sign of disease there. Other good news is that Rapunzel still floats cheerily in the corner of my room, frozen in a perpetual state of brushing out her flowing locks.

Being Divisive

I'm not sure what it was that inspired me -- the idea of taking my life in my own hands, or the opportunity to roll down the windows, crank up the radio, and jam to Ryan Seacrest in the afternoon. Both are equally exciting. Either way, I decided to jump in the car, head west on 60th Street, and then hang a right on Division Avenue to enjoy the views and take in the latest scenery.

I was debating the value of South Division Avenue as an entity and as a quick and direct route into the heart of downtown with some friends yesterday. The arguments against South Division street were mainly centered around the fact that it was at the center of the big shooting several weeks ago. No one can seem to let go of the fact that several dozen bullet shells were shed at the corner of Division and Fulton, just in front of the Grand Rapids Police Department Headquarters. Among other complaints -- I can't remember any others because there weren't any. I, on the other hand, see many positive aspects of Division. For starters, it is a highly diverse area: racially, economically, culturally, scenery. The last one might not be obvious. But as scenery goes, start in Cutlerville, at 68th Street. Division has been done up real nice there, with new sidewalks, street lighting, and flower pots. Nothing to do, but a nice walk. As you approach 60th Street and north of 60th, you will encounter more used car lots than you can number on fingers and toes. I count these in the scenery because I don't think any do any active selling. I have never seen customers at any of them, but they make for an enchanting scene.

Many significant shops maintain a steady flow of business on South Division. Just south of Kellogg Woods Drive / 54th Street, there is the architecturally significant Sweet Retreat on the West side of the avenue, the steeply slanting roof of which, my adventurous niece has attempted to climb more than once, like Heidi's goats in the Alps. Just passing 44th street, on the same side of the avenue, is the Grand Rapids staple Brann's Steakhouse, and less than 1-1/2 miles beyond that (same side of the street), is the ever-popular Young's Army Navy Surplus Store. For the adventurous, there are at least 3 Asian markets, and for the more timid, there are at least 3 dollar discount stores along the stretch of Division Avenue between 68th Street in Gaines Township, and Wealthy Street in Grand Rapids.

As South Division crosses the Grand Rapids city limits at 28th Street, a newly painted railroad bridge; shiney, squiggly brick wall sign; and a set of five flags greets the visitor. This is Grand Rapids! It does get a little better. Still countless vacant, weed overgrown lots on either side of the road. But the Grand Rapids portion of South Division has many thrift shops and centers for the homeless and down-and-out. The southernmost is Salvation Army -- a favorite of mine because it stocks lots of good furniture, some of which stocked my first apartment located on the far west side of Champaign, IL, just seconds off University Avenue exit of I-57. North of that is St Vincent DePaul. Then countless homeless shelters that serve all sorts of needs. Its mission row from here on up. My favorite of them, Mel Trotter, is just one street over from Division, on Commerce Avenue. In passing, there is lots to be done at all these places if anyone's looking for something to do to pass the time.

Now, after driving from 60th Street, 7.5 miles north to Fulton Street, then on past Michigan Street, I approached the more intriguing and challenging North Divison -- intriguing, in that I rarely get a glance at it, and challenging in that it's a speedy throughway with nowhere to turn off. I took it on foot. I parked at Newberry, took a chance, and trekked up the rugged staircase that leads up to Lookout Park and Fairview Avenue -- a park that does offer a fair view of the city from the Belknap Lookout neighborhood. I then hiked south to the more legitimate and less hazardous staircase at Fairbanks Street. Both the up and down hike were extreme altitude adjustments and dizzying. These are fantastic staircases and should be experienced.

To conclude my trip, I followed North Division by foot to the new medical developments at Michigan Street. My complaint about the new development is that no one considered pedestrian traffic from Division wanting access to Michigan Street. These two roads do now intersect on the same plane. Thus a small stairway should have been built between the two levels to accommodate the growing amount of foot traffic.

Division Avenue, North and South, has a lot to offer as far as exploration goes, if only because it is a street that has been long neglected by most Grand Rapids residents. It's that has-been street. It had it's heyday in the first-half of the 20th Century when it proudly carried the US-131 signage. It's glory days soon faded with the development of the limited access freeway less than a mile to the west carrying all but the most local traffic speedily above the city streets. Division Street remains a practical alternative to the freeway for getting into the city in a reasonable time, but the neighboring lots on either side could use some attention, care, and upkeep.

Not in line with the Vegans

For the past couple months -- ever since receiving some unwelcome news -- I have been following a diet that has unfortunately been popularized by that group calling themselves "Vegans". A diet that excludes almost everything tasty -- including brats, calamari, sundaes, salami, mozzarella, tuna sandwiches, chili soup, quiche, deviled eggs, and the likes -- but makes plenty of claims to provide many healthful benefits is worth a try.

The term Vegan is not one that I prefer. It brings to mind those in the radical movement who reject the use of animals for any human benefit. True Vegans reject the Biblical principles regarding man's rule over the animal kingdom, and man's right to use animals to meet his needs (see Genesis 1:28, 3:21, 9:3, Deut 25:4). True Vegans would reject the use of animals in farming, transportation, cooking, clothing, pharmaceutical development, warfare, trade deals (e.g. dowries), eating, and bacon, siting that it is abusive to the animal to be used by man for his benefit. A true Vegan would let the animals roam meaninglessly about the earth without any hope of profitable employment. I reject that animals should lead a meaningless existence of wandering the earth without the pleasure of serving mankind in meaningful employment. Everyone deserves a sense of purpose, including those in the animal kingdom. So I am not Vegan.

What drives someone to become an eater of things solely non-animal? Perhaps one thing is the desire to be odd. That certainly fits. Another may be the health benefits. A notable benefit is the agent sulforophane, a precursor of which is found in broccoli, radishes, and mustard. This is reported in peer-reviewed journals as being an anti-cancer agent. Many such molecules have been noted in other fruits, vegetables, grains, herbs, and spices. A dearth of which are found in meats and other such animal products. The one thing I miss is butter.

The thing that particularly interested me as I surveyed the "Vegan" world is the innovative use of soy products. This is what spurred me to write this whole episode. Soy is the wonder food of the vegan world. It can be processed, shaped, modified, solidified, fermented into just about any imaginable form, taste, and texture. If one wants a hamburger, form one from soy and top with ketchup and mustard. If one wants yogurt, used cultured soy milk. If one wants cheese, buy a bag of shredded soy cheese. The list is endless. Here is what I've come up with so far: soy milk, soy burgers, soy yogurt, soy cheese, soy eggs, soy bacon, soy sandwich "meat", soy brats, soy sour cream, soy mayo, soy butter. And then the recipes you can make using soy as a meat substitute is endless. To compete, the meat industry may have to start on a meat based tofu substitute.

So how would I summarize my current eating habits? They are certainly different from that of the Vegan in that my motivation is totally different. I reject the label "Vegan". Well, I think titles are silly anyway. I'm doing my best to eat healthful foods that will do more good than harm based on the latest research and knowledge, filtered through my keen and discerning eye. Other filters are welcome, and advice will always be well-received, although not always followed.

How Time Flies

I was eavesdropping on a conversation recently -- probably that of one of my faithful readers -- in which the topic was how the summer months fly! Everyone gets that feeling as they get older. I remember in grade school and high school how the summer used to go on forever. But in recent years it has seemed to fly by. I'm not sure why. One of the parties in the conversation surmised that it was because we tend to wake up the same time, go about the same morning routine, go about the same afternoon routine, go about the same evening routing, go about the same nighttime routine, go about the same sleeping routine, repeat. Thus day one blends into day 10, blends into day 100, blends in with the last day of summer. And it's over.

The suggested solution was Do something new every day. In that way, every day becomes a unique time point against which to measure the passage of time. One can distinguish between day one and day 10. Each day has a unique purpose. No day is alike. An interesting concept.

I began thinking about how many unique things I could come up with to do. My list was pretty short. I've often thought about putting a list down on paper. If I did that, it might be a little longer. But the list in my head was short. It kind of resembled the routine in the first paragraph. Along with the problem of putting together a list comes the problem of motivation. When the summer starts, but days seem endless. One gets the feeling that it will never end, so why start worrying about how to fill the days now! Well, I'm coming to the point in life, like an old person, that I realize there's probably not endless days in sight -- so start thinking of some things to do. That's not very motivating.

What is motivating to me is making those lists. When I see something on paper, I go after it for a few days. So, my job for a few minutes each day is to make a list of things to do, and then figure out how to do them. Lists are very motivating -- more motivating for me than even, say, someone nagging me to get something done -- much more motivating. When someone nags me to do something, my response is to put it off. When my list tells me to do something, I'm more prone to do it! Weird? I'm not sure. But it seems to work. Now all I have to do is find motivation to make those lists each day! I'm not sure why the lists work, but they do.

Obligatory post on the fact that neither my life nor yours will go on forever

I'm not going to die. Or perhaps I should say, I won't be the only one to die. Most likely, under ordinary circumstances, everyone will die somehow at sometime, and I too. I'm more certain of this than Harold Camping was certain of the date of the Final Judgment! I've always been an extremist! It runs in the Bonner family. Dad Bonner is certain of a global government conspiracy. Brother Bonner is certain he can solve all the world's business problems. Niece Bonner is certain she needs more chickens. . . Point made.

This I use to usher in the bad news that I will probably go sooner than most my age. The doctor wasn't too optimistic when I saw him three weeks ago. Yes, I'll chug on for a few more years, and hope is that more treatments will become available as I exhaust current treatments. But current treatments are not too plenteous. My disease has metastasized, meaning that it has come back in various other parts of my body. Metastatic cancer is somewhat hard to treat, and I emphasis that “somewhat” is an understatement. Fortunately, I have no symptoms, no pain, no distressing annoyances associated with having large masses invade my body. The only side effect of hearing this news is some disheartenment, which does not last long, and does not come often.

This prompts my thinking on death, for which none would fault me, and all should thank me. I shall try not to write too frequently on this subject. But I thought it important to get it out there since it is the present reality. To emphasize, I present you again with the fact that all will die. You can't exclude yourself, and only for a little while can you avoid thinking about it. So go ahead and think about it. The least it can do you is good.

The next more pleasant topic: I don't fear death. Why? Because death has been conquered. Death has no more sting. Death has nothing in it for me to fear. “To die is gain”. Do you see my black cloak, my nails and hair died jet black? No. I don't speak as some depressed, headbanging, blood obsessed goth. My hope doesn't lie in the treasures I have on earth. Certainly I love my family, my dog, and all my valuables. But they aren't everything to me, and I don't mind leaving them behind (I do plan to use Latin dancing in heaven – I'm sure it will be a useful skill). Other than that, though, I'm not to obsessed with what I have here. You probably know why I speak in such a way. If you don't, please ask. I'm happy to give an account for my hope.

Ah, I was going to leave you with a reenactment, as promised in previous short post. Here's how a bad visit with the oncologist goes:

Enter Doctor

Doc: How's your energy been? Any problems sleeping? And your appetite?. . . .

Doctor pauses, hesitantly

Doc: These are just my usual questions I ask. . .

Adam: (Interrupting) No they're not. Usually you come in and immediately tell me my scans are clear. . .

Here's how it usually goes, and how it was supposed to go:

Enter Doctor

Doc: Adam, your scans are clear!

Adam: Great doc.

Doctor Examines patient

Exeunt Adam and Doctor

Coming attractions

A new post is in the works, and it includes a reenactment! Stay tuned!

Dear Cancer,

I think it's time we be honest with each other. This on again-off again relationship over the past year is not a healthy thing. Late last year, we broke things off, and I really thought that you were never coming back into my life. I realize now just how much you must have missed me, but I've moved on. I have plans to get on with my life: a job, new friends, maybe even a new apartment. The truth is, other things have become more important to me. But then you come roaring back in, missing me something awful, moving all your stuff back in like you own the place.

I realize that we've been through a lot together. We've had some great times, and some painful times. But frankly, the good times we had together, they were mostly aberrations, when you weren't acting yourself. I really don't care for your typical demeanor, nagging, and constant demands on my attention.

There was a time when I thought that you and I were meant for each other. We had a lot in common, at least I thought. We were so close. We shared the same food. Even shared cloths most of the time. But this is so superficial.

I'm willing to give you another chance, but there's a condition that you must agree to: therapy – every other Thursday. It won't be pleasant. There's a lot of things we have to work through. Please, take me at my word, it will be for the best – for me at least. And when our course of therapy is over, I will drink to your death! Please don't take this the wrong way.

Yours truly, for now,

Adam

Learning the "Modern" ways

Thinking back 6 years ago does not strain my brain. It seems like just yesterday that I was looking for a job. I've had a resume since my freshman year in high school when my computer teacher required that we all scramble to gather up our meager work histories. That was a stretch to say the least. I remember putting together a list that looked something like this:

Mow Grandpas lawn: 1990 - 1995

Work on Uncle's computer: 1995 - 1995

Do chores around the house: since day 1 - Present

And then there was the part about "relevant course work". That was my first year in high school, by George! What coursework did I have? I could have listed my 4th grade experience, when I whipped through my 6th grade math book in a couple months. That surely would have impressed the potential employer of a high school student!

More to the point, though, in 2005 I had a real, paper resume. In my job search, I had pinpointed dozens of companies, found addresses for HR, printed out custom cover letters, and had them sent off by United States Postal Service. I wasn't completely old fashion. I posted my resume on Monster and applied online to dozens more advertised, open positions. All of this to no avail! I don't remember receiving a single response.

I now recognize that that method had become outdated several years before that. I ultimately found a position through face-to-face networking.

I now sit to revise my resume for the second time in 6 months. I find that my past resume was too narrowly focused on specific details of what I have done. Not enough broad thinking to recognize relevant skills across disciplines. I've now studies numerous up-to-date resumes, and it's time to put the finishing touches on mine. As I'm doing this, I also recognize there is a dearth of information in my sections titled "Professional Affiliations" and "Volunteer Experience". It's not that I haven't realized the importance of these sections to everyday life. These are things I should have been doing without concern for resume building, just as part of a well-rounded life. It's a nice bonus that they make for a well-rounded resume. But during a normal working career, volunteering gets crowded out. This will be a topic for another day, but I mention it now because it does go with the resume.

The point of this particular entry is to make note of the methods that I'm learning for the modern job search. Here seem to be the components of value. I list first the methods I'm using, followed by the methods I need to get started on:

• Networking via LinkedIn
• Networking via college alumni sites
• Headhunters
• Applying to specific jobs online

Methods I haven't yet used but should:

• Face-to-face networking
• Speed networking (sounds too close to speed-dating for my comfort)
• Twitter
• Talking to every stranger I can meet

Finally, methods I will not be using:

• Sending paper resumes via USPS

Is this ever a change to my old ways! Updates will appear as I discover what works and why.

A Plug for Google Reader

Good health has given me a chance to play around online more than usual and work more at keeping up with other people. I was sitting in the coffee shop a few days back, and I noticed several computers with Facebook open and active the entire time (mine included). This seems to be most people's idea of "keeping up with people". I am not sure how most people make use of Facebook. I spend my hours refreshing to see who's posted the latest update, who's liked a comment or status of mine (after finding a 'like', I immediately pat myself on the back for having a "good" post). Occasionally I have a need to actually communicate with someone and I have to break away in order to send a private message. But then it's right back to the routine.

I generally consider the above to be wasting time. It seems to be an addiction. "The evil which I would not, that I do." In addition to wasting my time, it often distracts me from reading the things I should read and keeping up with personal blogs etc of friends. But because out of sight is out of mind, I rarely visit these sites / blogs in my daily browsing. Here's where Google Reader comes into play. I ran into it by accident one day when I was inquiring into RSS feeds, of which I formerly knew nothing. Clicking on the RSS icon of one of my favorite blogs lead my to Google Reader, and now, reciprocally, Reader guides me to my favorite blogs.

With Reader, blogs are no longer out of sight. Rather, they flaunt themselves in bold print every time there's a new posting. New postings are now almost impossible to miss, even when I want to. And I'm not limited to following must blogs with the RSS logo. I can punch in any website that changes on occasion, and Reader "creates a feed" for it. I'm not sure what that entails technically, but it sounds pretty neat to me. No longer do I have to waste time keying in the addresses to the sites I want to check, only to be disappointed that it hasn't changed since last time I was there. Now, it's all right in front of me, "In sight, in mind".

This is all a good start. Having interesting material popping up in front of me should distract me from my FBing and keep me reading new and interesting stuff. Now, is there a website that will inspire me to analyze and do something with this information?