Fall and the Yom Kippur Moon

Fall and the Rosh Hashanah Moon

And, yet more medical news. Went in for my second Lupron shot in the morning, at Swedish. Then, drove back in later in the day with Kate to the E.R. (see below)

Talked to Sherry, the nurse practitioner for prostate cancer at Urology Associates. Turns out the protocol for the Lupron works like this. Get two undetectable PSA’s in a row, that is, 0.01, and they stop the Lupron. Mine was 0.03. Low, but not low enough to give me one undetectable. That means I’ll get at least a third Lupron shot in January, January 6th.

New PSA the week before each Lupron shot. This means the earliest I’ll know about the efficacy of the radiation is June, 2020. Possibly not till August or September.

Sherry did say that the hot flashes do tend to tail off. Hope she’s right about that.

A bit disheartened. With some detectable psa, even though low, does it mean the radiation didn’t work? Seems like it to me since the idea was to cure me. If the radiation is over, and successful, shouldn’t there be no detectable psa? Guess I’ll get clarity on this in early November when I visit Anna Willis, Dr. Eigner’s P.A.

Fall and the Rosh Hashanah Moon

How cool is this Starhopper trial?

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Yesterday morning I filed accident reports with Colorado State Patrol and Traveler’s. Their forms don’t anticipate a foreign national driving a rented RV. Made for an interesting session. Opened the Rav4’s back door. Works fine. The damage is superficial, but probably enough to make them replace the whole door and bumper.

Since we missed seeing Debra on Saturday due to the accident, we took her out for lunch. Ohanagrill. A Hawai’ian eatery on the shore of Sloan Lake. It was hot, a bit muggy. Felt like Maui just a little bit. I had kalua pork and cabbage. We shared four Portuguese donuts.

Debra’s headed to Uganda for a two-year stint in the Peace Corps. She’s sixty and wants an adventure. Sure she’ll get one there. Business development. Unless. She also picked up her ESL credentials and might try to get work in that way.

Coming back from Lakewood where Debra lives the battery on Kate’s portable O2 concentrator died. She was not worried as long as we were at the relatively low Denver altitude (still a mile high, though), but when we began to climb the mountains toward home her chest felt heavy and she started to get a headache.

I drove faster than the speed limit, which I rarely do, getting her back to our home concentrators. I ran in, turned one on, and got her the tubing as she came in the door. Much better. Not gonna let that happen again.

Pretty tired today. It was a busy, overly busy, week. Lots of driving here and there with Gabe’s glove crisis and Kate’s pulmonology appointment plus Tom’s visit. Good tired, though. Friends and family.

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Stream of consciousness. William James, a blooming, buzzing confusion. That’s the world with us. What about the world within us? Perhaps a booming, seething well? My posts are often stream of consciousness. Yes, of course. What else can they be? Tighter, more logical, less streamy, more broadcast television? Sometimes. I can do it.

Ancientrails started as a replacement for my long time hand written practice. Keyboards and pens are different. They educe thought in part by the feedback of the screen or the page. Pen scratching across paper. Keys clicking, letters appearing against a white screen. Some folk say one is better than the other. Pen being mightier than the keyboard, too.

Don’t think so. Of course I’ve been typing since I was 16 and took typing in high school. Before computers I used a typewriter, first manual, then Selectric with the ball. I’ve been writing with a keyboard for over 56 years. That’s a long time. Think I’ve gotten used to it by now. It’s my chief manual skill.

Most days I start with a Natalie Goldberg mind, free writing. Start out and see where it goes. If this blog ever seems like associations evinced by the sentence before, well, it is. I’ve tried to be more systematic, more philosophical, more academic. Just isn’t me. I’m more a first person sort of guy, telling you what’s on my mind right now.

The downside of this style is obvious. It’s self-centered, myopic, less than fully considered. True. It’s also self-revelatory, honest, and fresh. At least I think so.

Glad you’re here. Thanks for reading.

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

New moon tonight. Great night for astronomy.

Moving out of the time of the first harvest though Lughnasa has three weeks to go. The combines will be in the fields soon, contractors working through the night with the aid of the Harvest Moon.

Dreamy and sleepy this morning. The dogs had to wake me up. Working on getting a friend out of prison. He got out, then reoffended right away. There was a road work project near the top of a high hill. Jesuit’s were the work crew. There’s some Jungian stuff going on here, I can tell.

Picked up another tradition of better days. After Thursday afternoon mussar at CBE, we drove into touristy Evergreen. At CJ’s, I bought two Vienna beef sandwiches, one with giardiniera, one without. CJ sold the place to his daughter last year, but he was behind the counter yesterday.

The parking lot across from CJ’s, which made it much easier to stop in ( parking is bad), has been out of commission since the flood. That was 2012. CJ got flooded out by water pouring down the rocky hillside. Not covered by FEMA. The parking lot, flooded out by the swollen Bear Creek, was. He’s convinced the reason the parking lot’s taking so long to fix is “…because the government’s involved.” Whatever the truth he makes great Vienna Beef. Best I’ve had outside of Chicago itself.

Mowed. Put roundup down on the five foot perimeter. Had to fix my sprayer, which hadn’t been used in over five years. Since the move at least. Lot of crud in the nozzle. Walking with it, wending the wand here and there, took me back to the Andover garden. Rarely used roundup there, mostly for products from the organic folks Bill Schmidt introduced me, too.

Lughnasa and the Moon of the First Harvest

One more week. 5 fractions. 50 minutes. Photons off. Make it so.

Stomach unhappy as I head into the final round of CyberKnife sessions. Not unexpected, but I thought I had it managed. Nope. Head down, forward.

Some fatigue, more after the treatments and the drive home. More now than the first four weeks. Low energy, low motivation. I’ve given exercise and the radiation first place each day. Today, my third resistance session for the week, I plan to up my workout to three sets for each exercise from the initial two. No Lone Tree trip for today and tomorrow.

Dinners from the Mitzvah committee folks will keep coming for two more weeks. After that I should be running around like a guy with his cancer cut off. Cooking, writing, generally raisin’ hell.

May it be so.

Lughnasa and the Moon of the First Harvest

Lucky number 7. 28 fractions as of yesterday. 29 today. Weary and distracted, but I can feel a positive energy eager to emerge when the radiation finishes. Will not miss the daily trips to Lone Tree. Nothing from the Lupron except some mood changes. Hoping I’ll stay that way.

Kate’s having some tough times right now. Gupta, the pulmonologist, who seems knowledgeable but disorganized, has not give her a diagnosis, prognosis, or a plan. She started seeing him in January. The lung disease is the last piece of the long march and his foot dragging has caused her anxiety.

Kate’s mom had a lung disease, died from it. She says, “I’m becoming my mom.” No, I said. You may share some physical issues, but you are definitely not becoming your mom.

Her body has been giving her trouble for over two years. That’s a long time to deal with a cranky gut, weight loss, Sjogren’s, debilitating bleeds. Stress has built up and has so many triggers for her that it’s hard for her to achieve inner peace. Illness spreads out to the mind, to the family, to the community. Few are ill alone.

Summer and the Radiation Moon

Kate went along yesterday on my Lone Tree trek. She saw me get on the table. Kim and Nicky bound my feet and knees, put a pillow under my knees, and handed me the donut. Kate left and it was the cyber knife, John Prine, and me.

One guy, talking to Kim, said, “I drank a quart of water before I left home.” We exchanged glances, amused at what we have to do to get ready. We want to do well, get that bladder at 100 ml or above. It’s magical thinking to some degree. If we help as much as we can, the therapists will make sure we get the best from them. And, here’s the magical part, we’ll kill all the cancer cells together.

I’m struck by how much like a sacrifice these radiation treatments are. I get ushered into the holy of holies where resides the god of radiation. To get his favor I lie down on clean sheets, the priestesses make sure I’m in the correct ritual position. They leave the room, the encounter between god and sacrifice being a sacred act dangerous to others. I lie still and let the photon’s stream into me, hoping the god will grant me a miracle.

With 12 more fractions to go I’m at the two-thirds point. Blessedly, I have found a combination of meds that keep my stomach more or less calm and my bowels steadier. I feel better and that makes the whole experience less fraught.

Got our first meal delivered last night. Lasagna from Marilyn. Yummy. A real relief to get help. We both are grateful.

This ancientrail of disease, treatment, and healing continues.

Summer and the Recovery Moon

Week two began with the Grateful Dead. Sugar Magnolia, then Fire on the Mountain. Today, the Doors. Gonna ask Nicky today what’s most requested. My bet is country.

Finding my rhythm with the bladder. Came in around 280 ml yesterday. Goal is 100, but anything above 100 is ok. Cool, clear water. A western thing, now a radiation thing. Tumbler of water in the cup holder, I drink it on the drive. The Water Flow Way, I suppose.

Haven’t yet figured out the trick with audio books and my phone. Gonna go to the library on Wednesday after breakfast with Alan. I’m sure they can tell me.

Ruth stayed up Sunday night. She’s still here and now Gabe is, too. Gabe wants to hunt for antlers and I’m going to salt the backyard with an antler I bought in South Dakota years ago. I think he’ll enjoy finding one.

Jon picks them up around 4:30. Mary, sister Mary, flies into Denver around 7: 20 pm. Pick her up at the RTD stop at the Federal Center in Lakewood around 10. She’s on a visit back, hitting Minnesota, Wisconsin, Colorado, and Indiana. My peripatetic sibs. Mark’s in Bangkok. Me? You can see my glow at night if you fly over the Front Range from DIA.

Kate cooked the meal last night. ! Her stamina is so much improved. We did drive all the way into Swedish Hospital for yet another imaging study yesterday. Not approved by Medicare. Drive back. Not sure what’s going on here. Kate sees Gupta tomorrow while I’m under the photon beam. He ordered the test.

Move to Colorado. Visit many different hospitals, medical clinics, specialists, imaging locations. It’ll be fun!