Diary of a Network Geek

Sooner or later, we pay for everything.

So, I’ve been thinking again.  Always a dangerous thing with me.  Tonight, I was thinking about what things cost and how I’ve paid for them over the years.   No, I’m not talking about cash and the level of debt I carry.  Well, I’m not talking about cash, anyway.
Nor am I talking about any simple, tangible form of payment.  Tonight, I found myself contemplating lost opportunities.  It’s a reality that hadn’t occurred to me until I was in college, really.  The idea that by choosing one course of action, or inaction, other courses were lost or unavailable.

I’ll give you an example.  If LK had stayed involved with me last year, she likely would have missed out on the opportunity to move to Denver and do all kinds of great things for her business.  Sure, she would have had that relationship, such as it was, but, I think she would have missed out on a bigger, better opportunity for her.  That business was her life, in many ways, and, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t help her enough with it.  And, yes, I’m glad that she made that particular choice, because it was the best choice for her.  But, it did have intangible costs associated with it.
For instance, if she’d stayed here and with me, we might have gotten married.  Granted, where I was mentally and emotionally at this time last year, that was pretty unlikely, but, still a possibility.  Or, any of a number of things could have happened here, in Houston, for her and her business, that she didn’t get to experience because moving away cost her that opportunity.

I think I missed out on an opportunity myself, recently, because I spent too much time considering it and not acting on it.  It happens.
And, then, there are all manner of lost opportunities that passed me by while I was in the hospital taking chemotherapy.
On the other hand, passing up those few, small, opportunities allowed me to continue living, which will provide a whole lot more opportunities that won’t pass me by.

Funny, when I sat down to write this, that’s not where I thought I was going.
God sure does work in mysterious ways.
I wonder what opportunities I’ll have tomorrow?

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"You must forgive in order to live."
   --Stephen Orchard

Now that my eyebrows are growing back, I’ve been thinking about getting back into shape.

The first thing I need to do is to stop eating like I’m still on chemotherapy!  It’s not that I’m fat, mind, but my six-pack is very well insulated!
In any case, I figured I might add some things to my regular workout routine, when I start that again, that would help me burn the fat around my gut. In pursuit of that, I found an article on MensHealth.com called “15-Minute Work Out – Lean Routine”.
Now, if I can just convince myself it’s worth getting up that extra fifteen minutes…

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"When trouble arises and things look bad, there is always one individual who perceives a solution and is willing to take command. Very often, that individual is crazy."

Definately in a better mood this morning.

I think every bachelor should have a dog.  They help you clean up small food spills quickly and offer unconditional love.  Not sure which is more important or useful.
If you’re a bachelor in need of a dog, adopt one from a shelter.  In Houston, try my favorite “no-kill” shelter, H.O.P.E.

I hate giant, flying cockroaches.  Insects larger than three inches shouldn’t be allowed to fly.  The fact that they do may be used in theological discussions as proof that the end times are near.  The fact that so many of them seem to exist in the greater Houston Metropolitan Area would seem to indicate that, not only is the end of the world near, but going to start here.

I think an adopted dog is more grateful than a fru-fru dog from a fancy breeder.  At least, it makes me feel better to think I gave at least one a better life than she’d have gotten otherwise.

I don’t believe all those “rapture” bumper stickers.  I think anyone who’s quite so sure they’re going to be part of the rapture is under-estimating the requirements.  Also, they’re not familiar with the history of the rapture concept.

The best thing about being able to drink coffee again is that I haven’t been this regular in months.  And, I’m awake to notice it.

I must be doing well at work, because my boss has seen me work so many small miracles that he now has unrealistic expectations of what I can do in a single day.  Very unrealistic expectations.

I must be recovering from the effects of chemotherapy, because I have stubble in the middle of the week for the first time since losing my hair.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"You can't go back and have a brand new start, but anybody can start now and have a brand new end."

On the way home from the clinic.

So, I’ve been “away” for a bit.
Almost two weeks ago, I went into the clinic for what I thought would be a relatively routine check up. And, really, it was. Unfortunately, my blood work showed me having very low counts in every category, so they sent me for an immediate transfusion. I got a unit of platelettes and two units of whole blood. Now, that might sound like there was big trouble, but, honestly, based on my last set of blood work, I was kind of expecting to have that happen. Sadly, what I was not planning on was getting a fever high enough to get checked into the hospital, which is what happened.

So, I spent about a week in the hospital, even though my tempurature was normal after three days, because my white blood cell count was low. That’s bad because those white blood cells are what fight off infection. What’s worse is that I felt fine, even though I missed my best friend’s wedding, in which I was supposed to be the best man.
I came close to going against doctor’s orders and checking myself out of the hospital long enough for the wedding, then checking back in. It was only when the doctor hinted that might cause problems with my insurance company that I decided against it.
The bride and groom, however, brought the wedding to me. They came over, with the Matron of Honor, and another groomsman that the groom and I have known for years, forced me at cake-point to dress up in my tux and took pictures. One of the nurses took pictures of all of us together, as well. I’m told that these will be included in the wedding pictures by the photographers. To say that I was touched by this gesture is the understatement of the century. Words cannot begin to express the depth of feeling I have for those folks who would go so far out of their way to share that special day with me. But, for the record, the chemotherapy took my eyelashes and I get things in my eye all the time now and I was not so moved I was crying. In case anyone was wondering.

I finally got out Monday and was back getting scanned Friday. I’ll get the results this coming Thursday when I see the doctor. I’m hoping that the news I get is that I’m done with chemotherapy and on the mend, but we’ll see.
And, of course, I’ll keep you posted.

Well, I survived the treatment.

At least, so far.  I’ll go back for a full day of scanning on August 17th to see just how well I’ve done, but my oncologist kept referring to this as my last chemo treatment.  I hope so, because this one was kind of bad in some ways.  I got sick, as in blew chunks, three times over two days.  And, let me tell you, that last time it was all miracle puke, because there couldn’t have been anything left in my stomaches to get out, so where it all came from is beyond me.  Well, they’ve given me an extra medication to deal with the delayed nausea and vomiting, so we’ll see how that does.  And, hopefully, this will be the last time I have to go in for chemotherapy.

But, in many ways, it’s not over and never will be.  Lymphoma, the kind of cancer I had(have?), never quite goes away.  Rather, like leukemia, it simply goes into remission.  So, there will need to be some lifestyle changes.  Thankfully, changes that I’d already started to make and now just need to follow through on.  Things like eating healthier and exercising more.  Regular checkups.  That kind of thing.
But, also, I need to work on my spiritual life more. This last week, I’ve been thinking about the long chain of “coincidences” that brought me to this place. Back in ’98 when I moved down here, I didn’t do it because Houston was the best place to have cancer! No, I moved for my ex-wife. And, when that marriage was breaking apart, my first thought wasn’t, “Well, at least when I get cancer, I won’t have to worry about her falling apart under pressure”, since that is her pattern. My only thought was trying to survive the pain of her betrayal, which, sadly, is also her pattern. When I was forced to change jobs and I landed where I am, I certainly was not thinking that these folks would be so supportive of me and my health issues. Again, I was just trying to keep my head above water. But, in the end, it all worked out. It sure didn’t feel like everything was going according to some grand plan at the time, but, looking back, it sure seems like it was someone’s plan all along.

Now, the thing that gets under my skin, is why? What am I supposed to be doing? What is my life’s purpose? Why I was pulled back, almost literally from the brink of death to keep on? What is His plan for my life? How is that I am to be useful to Him? Well, I don’t know yet, but, along with other things I need to work out in this next phase of my life, answering that question is fairly paramount in importance.
But, that will come in time. As will, I hope, my hair, my eyebrows, and the freedom to drink coffee again. Honestly, I’m not sure which I miss more, coffee or my eyebrows.

Well, I’m not in the hospital yet.

Turns out having a fever over the weekend was a Bad Thing and the doctor didn’t want to start my chemotherapy if I were sick.  So, they sent me home with a perscription for antibiotics and I’ll be back on Thursday to try again.
I have to admit, I find it a little funny, frustrating and odd that they want me to be “healthy” before they start poisoning me again.  But, still, there is a certain amount of strange, medical logic there.  After all, if I’m already sick, and the chemo weakens me, what I’m already sick with might actually do me more harm than the chemo.  It’s just frustrating because I was looking forward to getting this all done and over with and now I’ve been delayed.  Ah, well, a few more days won’t kill me!

(Incidentally, for those of you not familiar with the term “hangfire“, it’s from gun/shooting culture.  Basically, it means “misfire, warning, danger, watch yourself on the range!”.  Lordy, the things you remember from Boy Scout camp!)

In just a few short minutes, my ride will be picking me up for what I hope will be my last session of in-patient chemotherapy.

This will be the sixth session I’ve had, which is the “normal” course of things for lymphoma. Before I check in, I’ll be getting a chest x-ray and blood work done, as well as having a chat with my doctor. After this round of chemo, I’ll have another PET scan and CT scan to determine for sure that Cletus has, in fact, left the building. Depending on how that goes, there may be more treatments, but I’m hoping that this will be the last of it.

It’s been quite an interesting experience, so far, this cancer thing. As one might expect, it’s led me to think a lot about my life and how I live it. I’m not sure that I’ve come to any real conclusions yet, but, then, I’m not quite done with my treatments, either. The one thing I do know for sure is how grateful I am to have so many people who have been so willing to offer their love and support to help me through this. I’m sure that the changes I need to make to my lifestyle as a result of this “little health issue” will continue to change me in ways I can’t yet see. I hope that all the changes, physical, mental and spiritual, will be constant improvements. Only time will tell.

(Incidentally, the title is German and translates, “Once more, with feeling”, just in case you were wondering, or couldn’t read the ulauted u.)

I just wanted to let everyone know that I’m out of the hospital again, having survived the fifth round of chemotherapy.  I didn’t puke this time, but I have been pretty queasy since getting out of the hospital, making eating a challenge.  Other than than, though, I’m doing okay. I’m not sure if you all are getting tired of the updates yet, but I’m getting tired of going in and out of the hospital to generate them, not to mention all the “stuff” that goes with all that.
If I haven’t spoken to you in person about the last doctor visit before checking into the hospital, by the way, they’re quite pleased with how things are going.  They showed me a “side by side” comparison between the first scans I had done and the ones they did just a week ago and WOW, what a difference!  The first scans show this huge mass in my right lung that obviously distended my ribcage, but the latest scans show a mass about the size of a kiwi or a plum.  Big difference and, I think, why they were so happy to show me the scans.  So, everything is headed the right direction.

The clinic is keeping me busy this coming week.  First, Tuesday I have to be at the clinic at noon for blood collection.  Then Thursday they want me at the clinic at 11:15am for blood collection.  And, finally, on Friday, I have out-patient chemotherapy at 10:00am.  You’d think they’d give a poor, weak cancer patient a break, wouldn’t you?

Hopefully, this will all be done soon and I can go back to a normal life, or what passes for it in my case.  Until then, though, I do appreciate all the thoughts and prayers!

I’ve got lot on my mind lately.

I’m not sure if it’s the chemo or the cancer or what, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Thinking about life and death and God and my former step-daughter and, well, everything in between. I censor myself a lot here lately because of who some of my readers might be, but, well, sometimes it just all wells up and comes gushing out in spite of my better judgement.
Death, I’ve discovered, is far easier than life. Dying a noble, honorable death with quiet dignity was something I rather thought might happen to me. I never thought that I’d live to be an old man, but rather die young and tragically, most likely from some bad choice I made. Hell, more than once I thought my ex-wife might have tried to kill me in my sleep. God knows, she threatened to do it enough times when we were married. But, it looks like I may just live to a ripe old age after all. And, that is proving far more challenging than one would think, that living with integrity and dignity for a long time. There are days when it seems harder the longer I live.

I worry about my spirituality and my relationship with God. After the second round of chemo, after my family had all gone home to Illinois, I was watching a movie called Kingdom of Heaven. If you haven’t seen it, it’s about the Crusdades and the loss of the city of Jerusalem to the Muslims. In fact, that’s what really got my attention, the sub-theme of the religious devotion of the Muslims. One of the characters commented on the fact that they pray to God five times a day. And, at that moment, I found myself envying that kind of devotion to God. I found myself wondering if it was better to die on one’s knees, crying out to heaven for a closer connection to God or to live a long life with a thin, tenuous connection to a God one has little confidence in at all. I still wonder. And, of course, I wonder which one I will end up with and when.

I feel lost and disconnected.
This entire process of dealing with cancer and chemotherapy and medical procedures has left me with a greater sense of how alone I am in the world, and yet how many friends I’m lucky to have. I do worry that I’ll die alone, without family to mourn me. That I’ll be an old man without anyone to care for me or worry about me when I’m old. Perhaps that’s why I always thought I’d die young. Maybe that was the plan, somewhere in the back of my mind, so that I could avoid all that unpleasantness of growing old and dying alone. The friends I’ve shared that with all assure me that I won’t be alone the rest of my life, but, well, I’m not quite as convinced as they seem to be. Truly, I’ve never been as big a believer in myself as the people around me. It is quite possibly my biggest curse. Even my therapist was impressed with the fact that I was, essentially, a self-made man. My family never got me a job or paid my way into a career. Mom and Dad got me through college, but, after that, I pretty well have done the rest on my own, making the most of some lucky breaks and applying myself where lucky breaks weren’t to be had. But, still, I doubt my own abilities to deal with life on life’s terms. And, in spite of that, I still manage to prevail over adversity.
Even today, sitting in this hospital room, I’m here against all odds, still alive and able to fret over the vagaries of fate.

I don’t know where this life of mine is going to take me, and that honestly frightens me a bit, or how I’m going to deal with the wreckage of my mistakes or the medical bills, but, I suppose, there’s time enough to figure that all out while I’m still kicking.  And, from what the doctor has said this week, I’m still alive and kicking and will be for quite some time. So, stay tuned and we’ll find out what happens next, together, faithful readers.  Your guess about what comes next is as good as mine.

I’m still here.

I’d have quoted Monty Python and the Holy Grail and written, “I’m not dead yet!”, but I notice that some folks don’t quite have the same dark sense of humor about my cancer that I do, so I thought better of it.  I’ve really gotten out of the habit of writing anything on the blog here and, I have to admit, it bothers me a bit.  Sure, I have excuses for why, not the least of which is chemotherapy, but when things are going well and I’m not actually in the hospital, I probably could write a bit more than I have.  I have been trying to read more, too.  So much time laying in bed in the hospital has almost over-dosed me on television, which is a Good Thing, as Martha Stewart would say.

I was in the clinic today, getting checked over, and then had the afternoon to relax a bit and rest.  I took that time and did just lay about and, well, read.  In fact, I finished  You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore this afternoon.  It’s a great book, even if it’s not his best, but it’s a sequal to Blood Sucking Fiends: A Love Story and you’ll be hopelessly lost if you don’t read that one first.  Hmm, maybe I’ll review those this week, if I maintain my mental and emotional stamina.  I actually feel pretty good tonight, which, of course, means that it’s about time to check into the hospital again.  And, in fact, I’ll be back in on Monday for five fun-filled days of chemotherapy.

In any case, I just wanted to put something in here so that folks knew I was alive and well and progressing the way the doctors want me to do.  There are a million other things floating about in my head, too, but as yet they’re too nebulous and unformed for me to write about.  Maybe soon.  Stay well everyone.