Rick's Lemonade Stand

Today we celebrate the life of Eleanor (Easy E) Alston

2011-09-18T07:32:00.000-07:00

Eleanor “E” or “Easy E” Alston

E was a campselor at my at my First Descents (FD) 09 camp. She picked me, No-Mo Chemo Man, Scrappy and Worm up at Boise airport. As a brain cancer survivor, I had struggled in my 08 camp just staying up in the boat. As we were driving through Boise, she explained that she earned the nickname “Easy E” in her First Descents 08 camp because she did so well in the kayak, like she was a natural. I’d seen that the year before in a couple of campers. Now I was back to learn to roll and just be better at kayaking, and she was back to shadow people like me on the river and teach us how to paddle. She told me she was an IBC survivor. The subject of nutrition came up when I offered her one of my cookies. She politely refused, explaining that she was on a diet specifically designed to prevent blood sugar spikes. I explained I had developed the recipe when I was on chemo because a side effect of the brain cancer drug I was taking was elevated cholesterol. When I told what was in the cookies, she concluded my recipe was low Glycemic Index and okay for her to eat. It turned out we were both staunch believers in the healing power of nutrition. Right off we had being food nerds in common. It ended up that what I learned from E about Glycemic Index became a cornerstone of my marketing strategy when I decided to go into the cookie business with my recipes. The day I gave her that cookie, it really meant a lot that told me she loved it.

Our first day on the water consisted of E, her husband Hyou and the rest of the FD volunteers fitting us in boats, getting us used to the inevitability of being upside down in the water, and then pounding us during spirited if not gracefully executed game on the Kayak Polo pitch. The next day, we were out on the river and I didn’t see much of E because she was working with other ducklings (novice kayakers). I imagine E was an encouraging force out there, not only just by physical example, but because she had major cancer credentials. The disease she was battling, IBC, is a very bad one, yet there she was she was on the river making it happen for her and for us. She taught, and helped rescue campers that had abandoned their kayaks in the rapids. The next three days on the Middle fork of the Payette provided plenty of challenge for us campers. Hyou and a few of the other volunteers patiently coached me on rolling my kayak during the lunch breaks.

I taught Tai Chi in the mornings. Hyou and E made it for a few mornings together and then for one or two Hyou was there alone. E needed rest, she was tired. Learning this was the first inkling I got that this camp was as much a physical challenge for E as it was to the rest of us. Despite her acumen, she had been through intense treatments and was tired. I had developed this image her, that she was so strong and good at kayaking, that I didn’t imagine she needed rest, that she was vulnerable. Part of this image was her grace as well as her skill. She was LIVING. She didn’t have time to complain, even when a piece of her front tooth broke off out on the river. She just kept going. It was one of her front top center teeth.

E was a very beautiful woman - yet vanity was in no way a hang-up for her. But it couldn’t have been easy for her looking in the mirror and seeing that broken tooth. It was a sign of the wear her treatments had exacted on her body. It was a chink in the armor.

E and Hyou loved to drive across the country and that’s how they had come to the camp from Omaha. They were able to stay an extra day after the rest of us left. They ran with the big dogs on that day. The North Fork of the Payette with Fro and Thrifty. That’s category 4-5 water; “busy” is the euphemistic term whitewater enthusiasts use to describe such a stretch of river. I remember seeing that fork on the first day on our way up to our base house from the airport. I was sitting next to E in the front seat of her van thinking, “Oh my God, I hope we’re not gonna be on that water.” E and Hyou did kayak the North Fork of the Payette. From what I heard, they held up for a respectable stretch, but that water taught them a thing or two in return.

In October of 2009 we had the pleasure of a visit from the Alston Clan plus Cara (Couch Potato) Stirts. They were out for the Kayak Polo Nationals (Internationals really) in Los Angeles. E was a force to be respected out on the pitch. Hyou and Megan played as well. Cara had driven out with E and the girls and was still working on rolling. Cara, a lawyer was on vacation from her court internship. One of the things that impressed me about her was that she was such a good friend and that E and the Alstons meant very much to her. Cara’s loyalty spoke to the quality of the Alstons as a family and as people in general. I truly enjoyed eating fish tacos with this tribe when they spent the night. When it was time for them to move up to Northern Los Angeles County to play in the Nationals my wife and I wished we could have had them around the house longer.

We got our wish when they were able to stop back by on the way out to Omaha. Everyone was in high spirits. I was left with such a loving and positive impression of the whole group. The girls, who had been living with the knowledge that their mom was fighting a deadly disease for two years, were exemplary humans. They got along so well and were great to have around the house. It really cemented my admiration and love for E and Hyou seeing how great of a job they were doing raising their daughters. I’m always grateful when I meet parents that manage to strike that balance, where the kids are able to interact on a mature and loving level. It gives me hope for the future when adults are willing and capable of providing the love in all of its forms. When children are this well mannered, it means that the parents are not afraid to set limits, yet not excessive in discipline. That they’re teaching love.

In the middle of March 2010, I participated in my second St Baldricks fundraiser. I had been growing my beard for a year in anticipation of shaving to raise money for pediatric cancer research. The Alstons were among the people I asked to contribute my campaign. I looked at my fundraising page after the shaving event and found a $5 donation from the Alstons with a note explaining that the treatments E was going through had been very costly and money was tight, but that their youngest daughter "J" had received $5 from her Nana as a gift and she decided she wanted to support what I was doing with that money instead of spending it on some thing for herself. What she really wanted was to help find a cures for cancer. So she asked E and Hyou to send me her $5. I was in tears as I read, knowing that despite the trials this family I had grown to love were going through, even the youngest among them was a generous and selfless soul. J was 7 years old when she made that decision. I had people donate 20 times that amount to my campaign, and it meant a lot to me, but Jillian’s donation was the one I will never forget. It embodied the essence of the Alstons. How could I not love them?

In October of 2010 E, Hyou and the Family were back for the Nationals again with Cara. Cara was a stronger kayaker, having nailed her roll. Megan was playing in the nationals in her age bracket, Hyou was playing, but E, who had qualified for the national women’s national team earlier that year had begun to struggle with chest pain and breathing. It was the IBC. She was unable to compete, and while she whole-heartedly cheered her friends and family, it couldn’t have been easy at times. Just as it was in camp when she broke her tooth and fought fatigue, E handled this new reality with grace, courage and strength. She sat at our dining room table talking with us, aware of her circumstances, yet strong enough in her self to enjoy just being with us.

The journey from October 2010 until she left in early September 2011 was inspiring, yet increasingly difficult for me to watch. I saw it though Facebook and blogs. E never stopped serving her community by providing nutritional knowledge and mentoring other cancer survivors. She had so much love for those around her, so many reasons to want to stay around, so much passion for her fight. She was an excellent resource for many people in the breast cancer community and for all of us who met her through First Descents. Ever since I met E and Hyou and their first visit to the West Coast, I struggled balancing my admiration and love for her, for all of the Alstons really, and that angry child part of me that never accepted that the cancer she was fighting might be just too relentless to overcome. Somehow E would stay with us because that was just what should be. I thought about the Alston family every day, literally. It was a struggle for me knowing how difficult things were for them, but I never stopped focusing on their best possible outcomes. E’s vast reserve of love, resolve and resilience elevated her to the unequivocal status of my heroine. We always want our heroes and heroines to be what they mean to us, who we imagine they are.

The last time I spoke with E she shocked me by telling me I was her hero. I was stunned hearing this from someone I held in such high regard. I suppose our stories have their similarities. We both were dealt some pretty difficult cards. We were both motivated people who sought out knowledge and wellness. We both were passionate about nutrition and serving our fellow humans. We were both empowered. Mostly, I think, our common bond was our unwillingness to let circumstance master our minds and our actions. We pursued our ways to fight for our families and leave legacies by positively impacting our respective circles of humanity.

I could wallow in sadness and mourning for E, and for so many other cherished friends and family I can no longer call on the phone, but that’s not what she or they would want. She would want me to celebrate her life by doing. It was my doing that she probably found heroic anyway - so I will. I will continue to try and emulate what I imagine a person I held in such high regard thought was my essence. For now I take heart in knowing that she taught her family what love is, what strength is and what passion is.

Peace, Light and Blessings to all who celebrate the good fortune of having know Eleanor “Easy E” Alston. We celebrate, we mourn, we love. We were damn lucky to get to know her.

Richard (NoMo Chemo Man) Harvey

Sometimes It's Hard to make lemonade

2011-07-07T22:31:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine recently died. She was about my age, and had been battling brain cancer as long as I have. I only met her once in person, in Florida. She connected with my poetry and hooked me up with some publication opportunities. They were not for prissy Ivy League college journals. She got me published in a fairly hardcore mag, along side tattooed Rubinesque vampire chicks and hardcore satanic metal bands. My friend liked hardcore. She wrote some pretty intense stuff, snuff stories and such. That was just one of her facets.

In the brain tumor world, she assisted, encouraged, and pointed thousands of people in the right direction. She was kind and generous, always doing for others. She put off radiation until it was truly a last resort. I worried her decision would lose her to us too soon. Maybe it did, and it doesn't matter, because, really, now it just sucks that she's gone.

This is what happens when people cannot get access to the help they need when they get sick. The reason I say this is because before she got sick, she worked for a business whose owners embezzled payroll taxes. So when she applied for social security , she was denied Social Security Disability and Medicare. There wasn't a thing anyone would do about it. As exhaustive a researcher as she was, she never cracked that nut. She had Medicaid, and the family, beaten down by the recession (depression) skated along the edge all through the last years and days of her life. I never could get over how unfair it was that she couldn't ever get Medicare, and I did, and still do have it. And it wasn't because she didn't work, it was because her bosses were assholes, and her safety net had some pretty big holes in it.

As we debate national health care, think about people like my friend, who never really got a fair shake. She got herself into numerous clinical trials, but how much of the gold standard treatment she needed did she miss? A lot, I would expect. She liked the idea of possibly helping the others by participating in clinical trials.

I miss her, I miss the way she posted cool music videos on Facebook, her passion for intense poetry, the way she spread so much love. I just can't help focusing on how unfair it is that she never had access even to a meager safety net that she really deserved, and no one was able or at least willing to help. There are two kids who have lost their mother and a man who lost his true love. They're probably glad she's not suffering, but still, it's all so sad.

Where do we draw the line on promises to our own people? Niki didn't get to step past our line in the sand. We've lost her and we're angry.

A Letter to Vanessa

2011-02-10T08:59:00.000-08:00

Hello Loyal Blog followers. I have included a letter I recently sent to someone who is supporting a brain tumor survivor. It is a pretty comprehensive listing of the modalities I have used in my healing.

Hi Vanessa,

I hope today you are feeling better. I am almost a 6-year PXA survivor. PXA is a form of AA3. I was fortunate in that the tumor was in my right temporal lobe region of my brain, so I did not have a lot of language issues compared to what your mom has experienced. I have some recommendations. In terms of quality of life for both of you, your major issue seems to be fear. It is understandable. We all have to take stock in these situations and figure out what we can have influence over and what we cannot. Those things we can change, we pick, hopefully one at a time, and resolve them. For those that we cannot, we have two major choices. Do we dwell in fear or do we give it up to our higher power (it seems you are a believer)? Living in fear is not going to make what time you have very pleasant. It is a choice. I don't recommend it if you want decent quality of life. While it might seem like you cannot control this tendency, really there are tools that work quite well. Mainly what my wife and I have done is carefully define what we want in our outcomes and then begin to imagine how we will feel when we get what we want. It's called The Universal Power of Attraction. A couple of good movies for both of you to watch right now would be The Secret and What The Bleep? They are both pretty good guides on how to manifest your desired outcomes. Focusing on what you want it a tool, initially, for re-occupying your mind with what you want in it, therefore taking power of your time. It is like meditating. Not always the easiest to stay focused while the Monkey Mind tries to fill you with dread or whatever is counter-intuitive to your peace of mind. And teachers of meditation tell us, when the random distracting thoughts come to us, just to embrace them and let them go and return to focusing on what you want. It is a discipline, one that takes time to master but one that will also keep you reoccupying your mind with what you want, not what you don't. And what is the difference, in terms of defining your focus, between what you want and what you don't? In simple terms, here are two possible ways of thinking. 1. "I don't want my mother to get sicker, lose it, fall apart and die." 2. "I want my mother to enjoy life and continue to feel better." You could focus on either one, and I suppose they mean kind of the same thing, but really they're universes apart. Focusing on 1 will make you feel like crap, lose hope and, in my belief system, will attract exactly what you don't want. Focusing on 2 will make you feel better, especially if you put your imagination to work on how great it will feel when those things come to pass. Feeling better in the moment is a keystone of improving your quality of life, and that of your mother. Here is a link to some of my poems that were published online back when I was in my first year of treatment. I hope they help you to feel better: http://www.oncolink.org/coping/article.cfm?c=6&s=31&ss=74&id=1015

Other things to consider. Alternative treatments that work: Acupuncture and Herbs have been very helpful to me. I fought with my insurance company to get this covered and won. The best way to get this is to go through a pain management doctor. The key thing you ask for are help with fatigue, nausea and pain. These are the areas the western medical gatekeepers will accept as viable reasons for acupuncture and herbs. They are not nearly all the cancer related issues that these modalities can help with. For instance I never had issues with my blood work during my two years of chemotherapy, and I know that this modality made a huge difference there. An acupuncturist/OMD will know way more about nutrition than a western medical practitioner. It is a much more holistic approach. Nutrition is KEY to healing. It's not uncommon for Western medical practitioners to believe there is no need to alter diet during BT treatment, and for cancer in general. There are a number of ingredients common in the food supply that are really good for helping cancer to grow. The big ones are refined white sugar, white flour, high fructose corn syrup, and excessive fat, especially non-organic fat. An acupuncturist will encourage you to eat what is best for your healing, and the dietary suggestions will vary as you move through healing. Whole foods are important.

A second modality is marijuana. Recent studies have proven that certain chemicals in marijuana help to kill cancer. Not only does it help relieve the symptoms of having cancer and resulting from western medical treatment modalities, it really does help to kill cancer. It works, and it’s time for our governments to fully embrace this as a treatment modality for cancer, and for many other diseases. While I cannot cite specific studies, I know that Marijuana has worked well specifically for brain tumors. I am living proof, and hey, apparently it hasn’t diminished my ability to communicate, and I’m almost 6 years in with no recurrences so far.

Exercise is key to wellness too. Research has clearly linked language acquisition, especially in relation to grammatical structure, to exercise. This is one of the reasons physical education is so important for children. It should work the same for adults who are trying to re-acquire language. In addition, exercising consistently helps just about anyone to feel better. Any person in treatment for cancer should try and exercise. It releases endorphins, which is good, and it keeps the body strong.

New learning is very helpful for re-establishing neuropathways damaged by radiation therapy. A way to connect exercise and new learning is to take a class. While in treatment I studied to become a certified Tai Chi instructor. I had learned a few forms in the 20 years before I was diagnosed with brain cancer, and relearning them really helped me to deal with balance issues and to build strength. Becoming a teacher forced me to learn new skills. I believe that was very helpful in getting my brain back functioning at a satisfactory level.

I hope these suggestions have been helpful to you. I suggest you look up the following Essay by Steven Jay Gould: The Median Isn’t The Message. It will help you regain your perspective. Here’s the link: http://cancerguide.org/median_not_msg.html

Peace and Blessings

Richard Harvey

Viento Y Agua

2010-11-07T21:46:00.001-08:00

I walked in to deliver cookies today and Alyssandra was singing "I've got a brand new pair of roller skates..." a song I've never much cared for before but who doesn't love everything she sings (?) and then there was Bela and Tree and Jenny and it was just like coming home to a family dinner if you hav...e the kind of family that you love having dinner with and I felt so good I started crying with joy.

B is for Bailey

2010-10-05T20:06:00.000-07:00

David M Bailey

Iconic in
his survivorship
ferocious in sharing
of Hope folksy and
disarming when
recollecting
the commonalities
that people who have
stared down their
mortality share

Anyone who
can relax people
even make them laugh
with a Leviathan in
the room deserves
kudos

He made a
true difference
for so many

He helped
people feel a
lot better

That must have
stood strong
among his manifold
last gratitudes

And if
the universe
has any sense
just now
he’s writing
a brilliant
shining
song

Imagine what a
guy like that could
do with a band of
herald angels

Can We Salvage Health Care Reform?

2010-01-21T07:29:00.001-08:00

Dear BT List Friends,

Below is the text of a letter from my brother, who earned his PHD in
Public Health from Johns Hopkins the year after I was diagnosed with
Brain Cancer. He is one of the people I trust to know what is going on
with health care reform and how I can help to work for the changes this
country needs so badly in this area. Those of us who have been touched
by Brain Tumors know better than most how much suffering can result from
the inadequacies of our current system. I hope you will read what he
says and that you will take the actions he suggests. I'm not interested
or remotely qualified to debate this issue or political positions in
this forum, so please just look through what is written below and see if
it makes sense for you. I will follow what he (Steve) with the text of
an email I will be sending out to my Representative, the HR's Majority
Leader and Speaker for those of you that would like to participate but
are not sure what to write. I hope you will join me in trying to make
the best of our current realities.

Richard Harvey
PXA 3 survivor, 4 3/4 years stable.

*"Obama, Dems consider pared-back health care bill"*
**
That's the latest Associated Press headline in the wake of last night's
election debacle in Massachusetts, and if the Democrats head down that
path, health care reform is DEAD!
It doesn't have to be that way. The next 2-3 days will be critical, and
you can help keep health care reform from dying.
I know a little bit about this. In the early 1990s, I spent several
years working on a campaign for national health care reform. When Bill
Clinton was elected in 1992, we knew we wouldn't get Single Payer, but
we thought we would get something. Many of the participants in that
campaign were senior citizens in their 70s and 80s. They often said that
if Clinton didn't manage to pass some kind of reform bill, it would be
another 20 years before we'd have another chance.
Unfortunately, they were absolutely right. Even more unfortunately,
almost all of them are now dead.
We haven't come this far to wait another generation - by which time many
of us will also be gone.
The Democrats can avoid a filibuster in the Senate by having the House
of Representatives vote for the Senate bill with no changes. If the
House approves the Senate bill unaltered, it goes directly to the
President for signature - no conference committee and no chance for the
Senate to block it.
The Senate bill stinks. It's a poor excuse for health care reform - much
less than we wanted or deserve. But it's a step forward. On that step,
we can construct other things. Congress can amend and improve the bill
using a budget reconciliation resolution. It only requires a simple
majority in the Senate - 51 votes instead of 60.
History suggests that even a bare foundation can provide the basis for
improvement. Medicare and Social Security both started out as much
weaker programs than they are now. On the foundation of those weaker
programs, many congresses and many administrations were able to build
something more robust.
The House leadership - House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, House Majority Leader
Steny Hoyer and others - can make this happen. A lot of people right now
must be telling them that the Massachusetts results indicate that the
voters have rejected health care reform.
WE need to provide some pressure in the other direction.
Please take a moment NOW to send an email to your own representative as
well as Speaker Pelosi and Majority Leader Hoyer.
This link will take you directly to Nancy Pelosi's email:
http://www.speaker.gov/contact/
This one will take you directly to Hoyer's email:
http://democraticleader.house.gov/email_and_rss/email_the_leader/
If you do not know how to contact your own representative, you can find
out here: https://writerep.house.gov/writerep/welcome.shtml . You will
need your 10-digit zip code.
While you're at it, contact the White House, too:
http://www.whitehouse.gov/contact
Don't write a long letter - just a brief message urging each contact to
push the House to approve the Senate bill unaltered. It's a numbers
game, and you can be sure they're getting plenty of contacts from the
other side.
Sorry if I sound like a shrill ideologue or a canned email from MoveOn -
I've received too many of those, too. But some quick action now can make
the difference between keeping health care reform alive or having the
whole effort crash and burn until who knows when. Why should we allow
the Joe Lieberman's the Ben Nelsons and the Scott Browns of this world
to deny all Americans a more just, more economical, and more effective
health system?
Please take a minute and do this NOW. There's nothing you will do in the
next 24 hours that could possibly be so important.
Thanks,
Steve *(My Brother)

Email I am sending to my Representative, The Speaker and The Majority
Leader.
*

Dear Representative/Speaker/Majority Leader;

Given the results of the recent election in Massachusetts, I hope you
will support a vote to approve the Senate’s Health Care Reform bill. We
need to make some progress on this issue, even if it is modest compared
to what we might have hoped for in early 2009. I am a brain cancer
survivor and was fortunate, after a vigorous fight, to qualify for
California’s Medical program after I was declared medically disabled. I
lost my job and could not afford to pay my family’s health insurance.
After two years, I qualified for Medicare, so now I’m covered, but with
California’s budget crisis as it is, if I were diagnosed today I would
not qualify for any significant help from Medical. Our family would most
likely be out on the street or living with relatives. California is the
exception in the United States being a state that offers a medical
safety net for some of it’s citizens. Most states don’t. It costs my
wife 1/3 of her monthly earnings for health insurance by the time we add
in co-pays to the premiums. This is a major hardship, but we are lucky
we can scrape the funds together. Bankruptcy is quite common for people
in situations like ours, so we feel lucky to be in our home with food to
eat and our lights on.

Please vote to pass the Senate Health Care Bill. We need to get this
process started.

(Thanks again for taking the time to read this blog and hopefully act
accordingly Peace and Blessings, Richard Harvey)

FD Idaho Day 1 on the river

2009-11-05T10:29:00.000-08:00

9/15/09

I’m chillin’ with my homies from FD Idaho after our first day on the water. The hours I invested since last year paddling in my kayak made a huge difference in my physical skills and confidence on the pond today. I was easily able to do everything the instructors asked of us. What a fight that was last year, struggling to move my boat around the pond, feeling all tipsy turvy. Today I was right in the fray, keeping up with the counselors and returning campers. Feeling completely in control of my boat as we played a spirited game of kayak water polo felt so rewarding. I started some roll practice with Hyou, who is E’s husband. He became a roll instructor in the year since he and E attended FD couples camp together. Now both of them are here as Campselors. When FD alums become skilled enough kayakers, they can transition into being counselors for first year campers. Perhaps some day I will be able to do that?

*****

Initially, when we got back to the base house, I felt energized. In minutes, fatigue set in. I crashed for a half hour. I woke up hungry and there were snacks set out, but I could smell the pond on my skin. After a refreshing hot shower, I felt awake and ready to munch.

As I was finishing my snack Smelly announced, “We have set up a slack line outside, you are welcome to come out and give it a try.”

I was one of the last people to arrive. Smelly and some of the volunteers had strung a one-inch flat nylon webbing slack line between two trees. Several of the campers and staff members were taking turns walking across, assisted by a steadying aide on both sides.

“NoMo, are you going to try it?” Thrifty, a volunteer from Utah asked.

“I’ll watch for a while.” I sat remembering a ropes course I was forced to attend at a team-building day in the job I worked at before my brain cancer diagnosis. I didn’t like the company. The corporate culture unequivocally communicated that employees were not valued and then on team building day we were all supposed to forget the abuse and act grateful. I had been scared of heights since I was 8 years old. When my turn to walk the tight rope came up, I refused. I was belayed from four sides, but I couldn’t trust the intent of that community’s leadership.

This afternoon, I stood up, feeling calm confidence in the people ready to help me keep my balance on my walk across the slack line. Even with the micro adjusting balance issues that most brain tumor survivors experience after surgery, I made it back and forth several times. After I finished, I watched in amazement while Smelly crossed several times without assistance, squatted down on one leg while holding the other out, stood back up, pivoted around to face the other direction, jumped up and then landed back on the line. She’s quite the stud. Almost all of the campers ended up trying. Some were even able to take a few steps without assistance. Many of the counselors were at least able to walk across unassisted, and some were able to do some of the tricks smelly had shown us.

“Balance,” Fro explained to our group, “is one of the most important skills in Kayaking. Slack line practice really helps on the river.”

Dinner was replete with great food, in the form of vegetarian and meat lasagna donated by a local FD supporter. First Descents networks with the local kayaking community before camps so the food in many of the camps is almost completely donated. This allows the organization to spend more on providing camp experiences to survivors. The fact that neither of the founders is paid for their work with First Descents stretches donations even further. At the campfire I took off my sandals, warmed my feet and stole glances at the gorgeous sky. Beemer, the lead counselor looked around and asked the group, “What are your goals for this camp.” Around the campfire, a lot of individuals connected with wanting to complete rolls, wet rescues or combat rolls, but collectively we all wanted to have a fun week.

I said, “I want to roll. I want to keep facing challenges and overcoming my fears.” I shared my process of deciding to slack line earlier in the afternoon, and then said, “ I feel like I can trust you all. I felt that at last year’s First Descents camp too. And in the year between then and now, I have been able to do things I never imagined doing. Last month I went zip lining in Guatemala. I’ve been terrified of heights since I was 8, but I figured, hell, zip lining is really pretty safe, the fear of heights is all in my mind.
I’ve been whitewater kayaking. There’s some real risk in that.”

I’m enjoying watching the people shed and step away from their protective social and physical shells. Faces are relaxing, smiles are coming easily. We are building a community, overcoming perceived limitations.

First Descents Idaho 9/14/09

2009-10-07T23:20:00.000-07:00

9/14/09

I am in Garden Valley Idaho, grateful to be attending a First Descents (FD) whitewater kayaking camp for young adult cancer survivors. During a two hour mechanical delay in LAX, where I started my trip, I enjoyed the carpets’ stale popcorn odor, ate a cardboard sandwich and remembered that it’s good when the airline announces you won’t be leaving until the problems your plane is having are fixed. Eventually the turboprop puddle jumper was ready and we were on our way. I’m a brain cancer survivor, 2 ½ years past my best prognosis. So far everything has worked out for me in, spite of any gratuitous worrying along the way. But just because I know this doesn’t mean I always believe my good fortune will continue. I hope my time in Idaho as a second year First Descents camper help will fortify my confidence and faith so that they increasingly supplant my fears. That’s what happened last year when I went to and FD camp in California.

I spent a lot of time before leaving Southern California this year worrying, mostly about things that didn’t really need my attention. When I worried about rolling over in my kayak and breaking something important, I remembered that First Descents got me through camp in 2008 with all of my fingers, toes, larger appendages and faculties working just fine. I knew that the neophyte and seasoned Kayakers attracted to this experience share do no harm as our common ethos. I knew the founders of First Descents understand that if their campers go through the ordeal of learning to whitewater kayak in a fun and safe environment, some will return to do it again, and some will become the spokespeople and fundraisers FD needs to make this empowering experience available to other young adult cancer survivors. I remembered to trust that I would be in good hands here in Idaho, even while I scrambled to redesignate the beneficiaries for my life insurance policies before leaving. I buzzed from task to task, fighting survivor’s fatigue and confusion, wondering why I over-commit and why I invariably feel completely exhausted by the time I leave for a vacation.

I recalled feeling exhausted when I arrived at my 2008 FD camp, and how I left that camp with a new understanding of living in the moment. Splashing through challenging whitewater rapids and then floating down beautiful stretches of calm with wonderful new friends leaves no time for non-productive reveries. But the lesson of remaining in the moment is quite difficult to abide in the hustle bustle United States. I begin my second FD camp thirsty to further internalize what I discovered last year.

My 2008 First Descents Camp began at the airport in Yreka, California, where FD founders Brad Ludden and Corey Nielsen picked me and 3 other campers up. Once our luggage was stowed and in the van they asked, “What are your Nicknames?”

“I’m NoMo Chemo Man on my softball team,” I said.

They both shrugged appreciatively. “NoMo,” Corey said, “is your name here.”

“And the rest of you?” Brad said, “or we’ll choose one for you. I am Crotch, Corey’s Rot.”

Right from the start, the leadership of First Descents’ Camps communicates that being with FD is going to be a fun, challenging and playful experience. Campers begin by shedding their birth names for the rest of the camp. We don’t know each other by any other handles than the nicknames we pick for ourselves or ones that get picked for us. Renaming is a metaphor for leaving behind our “sick” cancer patient identities and reclaiming the fun decisive empowered selves that many of us lost during the rigors of treatment.

*****

At the Boise airport this year, Easy E answered Smelly, the Camp Director’s cell phone, “Is this NoMo?”

“Yes, I’m at the baggage claim.”

“This is ‘E’. I have a couple of other campers with me. We’ll be right down.”

“How did you get your nickname?” I asked Easy E as she drove us through Boise towards Garden Valley.

“Well, at last year’s Idaho camp, they named me Easy E because they thought I made everything look easy. I just kind of took to this sport. I shortened it to E ”

“What are your names going to be?” E asked Cindy from Long Beach, California and Kathy and Linda from Omaha, Nebraska. We had all arrived at the airport at about the same time.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither.”

“Not sure.”

“Well,” E said, “you better pick names by the time we get home, or we’ll choose them for you. This is one of those things you’ll probably want to do for yourself.”

I was in the front passenger seat. I smiled over at E and said, “Yep.”

E dropped us off in front of the spacious 3-bedroom home that was going to be the camp’s base house. The front door opened into a large living room. Twelve campers and as many FD volunteers and staff members were chatting energetically. They had chosen names such as Moo, Pixie, Clicks, McFly, Dog Bite and Rockie. Cindy became Smiles, Kathy became Worm and Linda became Scrappy. Our camp mom and dad, who had set out snacks for all of us, introduced themselves as Home Fry and Home Slice respectively. They had volunteered to make sure we ate healthful delicious food through the week of camp. The house smelled like sausages and peppers and garlic bread. My stomach rumbled happily.

Late this afternoon, FD’s staff and volunteers outfitted us campers with whitewater kayaking equipment.

“This is a spray skirt.” Smelly, the camp director explained, “In this camp, it is cool for everyone to wear skirts. This is the skirt’s ‘Oh shit’ strap,” she pointed at the loop sewn in the front of the skirt. “We will teach you how and when to use it tomorrow at the practice pond. This is a spray jacket, it seals around your waist, neck and wrists. It will keep you warm on the river. These are your PFDs. We will fit you in one so if you swim, it will keep you floating on the surface of the water with your head up. These are river shoes. They are by far the best way to walk in a river’s shallows. Here are the helmets. Make sure yours fits securely on your head. The chinstrap should be snug, so that no more than two fingers fit between your neck and the strap.” Fro, an advanced kayaker and volunteer from Idaho put on a helmet and demonstrated adjusting the strap appropriately.

Smelly continued, “Fro, can you please tell the people how to keep their equipment together?”

“Certainly,” he said. “Take the helmet’s chin strap and pull it through one of the spray jacket’s sleeves, one of the PFD’s armholes, the waist seal of the spray skirt and the laces of your river shoes. It all holds together nicely.”

“This is your equipment for the week,” Smelly explained, “it is your responsibility to make sure your stuff is ready to go when we leave for the river in the morning and to lay it out to dry when we get back in the afternoon. You don’t want to start the day with soppy equipment. It’s cold, stinky and nasty.” We campers broke into separate groups and collected our equipment, tied it into “gear babies” and placed it in the base house’s garage to prepare for the next day.

We ate our delicious Italian dinner and talked. I met campers and staff from many regions of the United States and Canada. I knew many things would be different here from my awesome experience at last year’s FD California kayaking camp, but I felt good about this group. I heard lots of playfulness and laugher as people compared common experiences and began to bond. One of the main goals of First Descents, in addition to facilitating young adult cancer survivors’ success in overcoming the physical and emotional challenges that whitewater kayaking provide, is to create a community where survivors can network and have fun with their peers and the seasoned kayakers who are there to support and encourage them. Going through cancer treatment can be a very isolating and at times socially devastating. Last year I loved watching the most guarded new arrivals open up and begin to have fun as the week flowed.

*****

We have enjoyed our first campfire. The chill of the air, the warmth of the fire and the smell of smoke were a nice combination. The stars above Garden Valley Idaho shimmered sublimely.

We are back in the house feeling at home. Smelly and her staff set a friendly goofy and reassuring tone that has helped everyone relax. Tomorrow we will hit the pond and start building skills. For tonight, it’s peace and blessings to my future readers.

NoMo Chemo Man

2009-08-13T23:12:00.000-07:00

First Descents, Day 6

2008-09-15T17:48:00.000-07:00

It’s Friday evening and I’m sitting in the Otter Bar living room. It has been an absolutely wonderful day.

We started the day with Peter, the lead trainer explaining the various levels of risk, and how they move us from ho-hum to adventure to peak adventure to disaster. We ran down a category 2+ section of rapids yesterday. I dumped out of the boat twice. One of our campers, a sarcoma survivor that had to have is leg amputated flipped over in a rapid yesterday. He got hurt and couldn’t get in a Kayak today. It was a huge bummer because he is such a go-getter the whole time, despite a very challenging situation.
Maneuvering a Kayak is pretty much a two-leg gig. You have to use you knees to bank and turn. Anyway, when he was hurt and couldn’t paddle. The lead trainer was very affected by this, and he decided that for today we would run the same rapids, but with less supervision. This was a way to bring up the level of risk and adventure.

I felt pretty tense by the time this talk was over. I didn’t want to miss the two rapids that I couldn’t handle today. So I began preparing my mind with positive focus on the way out. I saw myself coming through the rapids o.k.

We put out, and soon enough it was time to run the rapid that kicked my ass the last time. I spend most of the ride over focusing on how great it would feel to get through it. So I entered it, followed the tongue down through some pretty big tossing rapids, and then I was o.k. I got into a relatively safe zone and raised my paddle in the air with both hands. It was awesome. And such was the case for the rest of the day. I ran all of the rapids without falling. I kept balanced and focused and was totally in it. And after getting through the second rapid that I rolled on yesterday, I was so happy. Before we knew it, we were above the last rapid, and it was almost over.
Everyone got through it. And that was then end of our time on the river.

I wish I could do it again tomorrow. Today I really felt I needed the trainer to go through before I did so I could see the way. Now I think it would be o.k.
For me to go on my own, which was what the trainer wanted us to do, but I felt with my memory, it would be better to go that way. Really once I got into each rapid it was me doing what I needed to get my boat down to then next eddy.

I organized several of the staff and campers to set up Peter, the main trainer, and pour a jug of water over his head. That was lots of fun.

The rest of the day was cool. We listened to Let It Be on the way home. It was so nice.

So tonight has been cool. Sat in the Jacuzzi when we first got back. I took a bunch of pictures and filled out a couple of surveys.

We filled out thank you cards for the staff and trainers and ate dinner. We went back to the training pond and exchanged ribbons. Linda, the nurse gave me hers and said that I had really learned a lot from me.
She felt like if she ever got cancer, she knew how she would respond to the situation. She would take what she learned from what I have done and apply it to her life.

Also, a couple of other people said that my story and poetry and story really moved them. It was awesome knowing that I had affected people pretty deeply. We lit candles for the missing camper. It was a wonderful end to the most awesome day I’ve had in a long time.

First Descents, Day 5

2008-09-15T17:19:00.000-07:00

Thursday Morning

I’m hoping you’re doing great. I’m very good. It’s our second to last day on the river with First Descents. We just had breakfast. It’s been great since the first day.

Yesterday was pretty casual. We spent some time on the Salmon River, which passes through the Otter Bar’s property. It runs pretty low in the late summer so we couldn’t kayak any distance. I practiced pointing the boat upstream into rapids and wet rescues.

The boats were talking to me this morning as I was out in the fire break meadow practicing Tai Chi. They want to get out on the river and hit some rapids. Each day I’m more attuned with fun and trepidation fades. We’ve practiced for 4 days and now comes the two days of using what we learned and having fun. We’ll still practice, but we’re pretty much into being on the river and enjoying the ride. I’m very psyched….

Thursday Evening

We’re back from the river, so the good news is everyone is alive. One of my brain tumor survivor friends, Ariella, was able to come along on the raft, but couldn’t kayak. She started to get a headache yesterday and has a long history of migraines, even before the whole brain tumor thing started. Unfortunately, she had to take a Vicodin today and just ride on the raft. She was a really good sport about it, but we all wished she could come along Kayaking.

We put in and immediately hit a hefty rapid. There was a nut missing on one of the foot adjustments on my boat. We discovered that after my boat tipped. I was going to wait for a rescue, but I ended up just popping out. So about 3 minutes into the day, I had a wet exit.
At least it wasn’t because I pulled the safety strap. I was just out. And I got my first oral enema.

Peter, the lead trainer was there as soon as I came up and got me calmed down and on track right away. We went down another rapid and I made it through. On the next one I hit a rock, and was about to get out of it, but one of the other survivors hit me from behind and in I went. I rolled over and hit the rock, and was kind of being punched against it for a few seconds so I bailed. I just missed a wet rescue, but oh well, I came up laughing.

It was a really fun day. We did 3 or 4 more strong rapids and I managed to say up. It was a lot of fun, and again, I was totally there. I didn’t’ have any other thoughts in my head other than I was floating on the river, enjoying the view, or I was on the rapids and trying to follow the smart person. I just do what I can to imitate what they’re doing, and so far it has worked well.

Well, we’ve got one more day and I’m headed back to So Cal and you. I hope you’re doing well. Please send my love to everyone, and if you have a chance, please ask Chewie and Danny if they want to help you call Kari and wish her a happy birthday.

Otter Bar Day 4

2008-09-15T16:18:00.001-07:00

Wednesday

It is Wednesday afternoon. I thought today would be the day I learned to roll up when my kayak tips over. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to do that. I got in the water and did some warm-up paddling, going into eddies and with rescues. I’m pretty confident that if I flip I’ll be able to get out without a wet exit, which means I won’t pull the release on my skirt. I’m not, at least this time, going to be able to learn how to roll myself upright. I was practicing rolling up with one of our instructors, Leah. The first basic part of rolling up is using pressure from the right knee to get the boat moving towards being right side up. I was up and down about 20 times, and started to get it, but then my left ear started hurting. The next time I came up, everything was spinning. It was like being on a merry go round. We waited for a little while, but nothing changed. So I decided rather than risk having balance issues tomorrow when we’re back on the river, I would quit for the day.

I just took a bunch of pictures of the group, and after that I tried to figure out how to use Apple’s Garage Band to record an interview. I’m sitting out on my room’s porch. A humming bird is buzzing around a little island garden that’s worked into the huge lawn firebreak that surrounds the Otter Bar Lodge. There is a pretty intense forest fire going southwest of us, and the smoke is blowing in this direction. It’s really beautiful here but it would be nice if we didn’t’ have so much ash coming in.

No one is upset by the fires. We’re all in a really good place by now. This has really been a nice break. I’m looking forward to another couple of days on the river.

Well, I’m off to lie down inside where the air is maybe a bit fresher and then maybe a nap?

Otter Bar Day 3

2008-09-15T16:05:00.000-07:00

Today was our third day on the water. We went down 5 miles of a calm section of the Klamath River. There were some moderate rapids, which is a step up from yesterday. I got down the river without flipping over, but I did practice wet rescues a couple of times.

Cory, one of First Descents founders, was coaching me one-on-one for most of the day. I explained to him that my plan was to stay above the surface and not get rescued. Nonetheless, learning to deal with rolling over will doubtless come in handy. I did fine staying stable on today’s small rapids and keeping the boat directed where it was supposed to go. I decided the best strategy was to follow exactly where the instructor was going, to the greatest degree possible. That worked out pretty well. I call this, “Follow the smart person.”

I got through the day pretty well. One of the coolest things I realized about whitewater kayaking is that being on the river totally occupies my consciousness. I don't have any monkey mind chattering in the background at all. When it's calm, I'm enjoying beautiful scenery and steeping in the happiness of the people around me. When I'm running rapids, I'm too busy paying attention to have any time to think about anything else. I also love that other than driving the boaters and kayaks to the river, there is no tangible environmental impact in this sport. It’s about flowing with nature, not dominating it, which is pretty damn cool. My treasured discovery for today is peace of mind.

Otter Bar Day 2

2008-09-15T15:48:00.000-07:00

Monday

I just had a great day. We went to the Klamath River and tried out the skills we learned yesterday. I felt like I did a lot better in the river than when we were training in the pond at Otter Bar. But then I had yesterday's grueling trial by fire to get me ready. I'm not as tired as I was yesterday. I can row straight and bank the kayak into eddies and then back out into the river’s main current. We also learned to "ferry" across the river, which brings the kayaker to the opposite side of the river without moving up or downstream. We ran some very mild rapids. It was pretty cool knowing what to do.

It has been a great couple of days. It's been awesome meeting everyone here. I had about 12 people this morning at the Tai Chi warm up session. I start each day with a sense of trepidation, but eventually when we start learning what we're going to do, everything is fine. Every day we learn new skills and push ourselves in a new way. We also spend a lot of time reinforcing the skills the instructors taught us on previous days. The people are great. When we get back from the river, we rest up in the beautiful Otter Bar Lodge. It is replete with comfy accommodations and fantastic food. Last night we ate prawn and scallop choppino with a wonderful cheesy herbed risotto and an outstanding baby green salad. Each salad has had its own special dressing. Last nights’ featured delicious praline almonds sprinkled on top.

The place is the gorgeous manifestation of a family's dream. Peter and Kristy Sturges have built 16 buildings on their property in the last two decades. The Otter Bar is almost completely powered with hydroelectric energy. It is outfitted with skylights and florescent bulbs for maximum energy efficiency. There are backup diesel generators, but they don't get much use beyond powering the pumps that keep the kayak practice ponds full and irrigate the swaths of firebreak lawns that separate the Otter Bar from the surrounding forests. Forrest fires have been burning in this remote region of Humboldt County’s forests during the summer season. Just before the Lodge opened this season there was a fire that came within 1/8 of a mile of the complex. Fortunately the Sturges family has spent many years living in this environment, so they know how to prepare for the worst and come out o.k.

Well, I guess that's it for now. We’ll see what adventures tomorrow brings.

First Descents, Day 1

2008-09-15T14:57:00.000-07:00

It’s Sunday evening. I just finished my first day with First Descents at The Otter Bar Kayaking School. It was a very physically challenging day and I'm tired. I started this morning doing Chi Kung warm up exercises with a couple of people in the group. After I arrived on and got settled on Saturday evening, I committed to teach these exercises to help people warm up their hips and shoulders for the unique demands of kayaking. I wanted to give something back to First Descents. I felt so grateful for this generous program for Cancer Survivors that teaches participants to learn about kayaking and challenge themselves to accomplish things they might not have thought they could do.

This morning we got our Kayaks set up and adjusted our other safety equipment. We and were in the water pretty quickly after breakfast. The instructors began by flipping us over and turning us back upright. Once I was comfortable with that, I began learning to roll myself over and not panic when I was upside down in the water. At first it was scary, a real exercise in mental control. I wasn't under the water for very long, but it was just kind of freaky when I first started. I learned how to escape from the boat first, which, the instructors stressed, is the least preferable alternative if you flip on white water. Next I learned how to flip my boat over and wait for someone come in to rescue me. Then I had to place my hands on the bow of the boat and roll upright. I learned to use pressure from my knees and bend my waist laterally to roll the boat upright.

Then we learned how to row the boat forward, turn, and then to bank the boat and turn while paddling. It was a lot to remember so much in one day. The last activity was learning to roll the boat upright on our own if we flip. I ended up pooping out before I could learn. I was so tired that the instructions just weren't sticking in my head. I was also hampered by my build, range of motion and limited stamina. Hopefully tomorrow, I'll get it. The instructors suggested I try a different boat tomorrow. I'm kind of heavy for the first boat they gave me. They though it would be easier for me to gain and maintain speed in a larger boat.

So far, this sure has been an adventure. I've already done things I never imagined I would. I'm having a really good time, and being here really is a challenge.

Realities and Refi's

2008-08-09T21:24:00.001-07:00

Last May I participated in Brain Tumor Action Week in Washington DC. I received training from the North American Brain Tumor Coalition in how to lobby congress. We visited our Senators and Representatives just before Lance Armstrong and Elizabeth Edwards testified before full congress. Our part was to encourage our senators and representatives to do three things. The first was to end the Medicare waiting period for people who are declared permanently medically disabled because of diseases like cancer. Right now it takes 2 years after a person becomes permanently medically disabled for them to qualify for Medicare. The financial results are often disastrous. The second thing we asked is that May be declared Brain Tumor Awareness Month. The third was for a 6 percent increase in funding for the National Institute of Health (NIH), which has not had an increase since 2002.

When I went to talk with Senator Feinstein’s and Representative Richardson’s health aides, I told them about a friend of mine who was recently widowed. Her husband had succumbed to Melanoma. She was left with substantial debts. The sting of that reality recently hit home again.

I started off Monday after getting back from the LIVESTRONG Summit by signing papers to refinance the house. We’re grateful that we still have a house to live in 3 ½ years after my brain cancer diagnosis. I had some problems with the necessity to draw on what is left of our equity, especially after the housing market has tanked. The fact is, it became necessary. Like most people that find themselves in our situation, we weren’t able to keep up with the bills without accruing some debt. Fortunately we had equity in the house. Hopefully all is set right now. I am still grateful for what we have, but this was a tough pill to swallow.

While I will avoid sharing dirty laundry on this blog and will keep the focus of my communications positive and proactive, I want to share these details from my life to illustrate that cancer has a huge financial footprint. One in two men and one in three women will experience cancer at some time in their lives. If you don’t get it, you will almost certainly know someone who does and may end up being a support person.

I was lucky enough to have income insurance that provided us with a financial foothold when things got slippery. I’ve got 60% of my 2005 earnings, including Social Security Disability and what my policy pays. It has been tough making things work, but somehow they have. Thank goodness I wasn't the only income source in the house. I was able to get Medical to help us through the two year Medicare waiting period. It was a fight. I had to learn a whole new skill set, but eventually I got covered. We were lucky to be California residents. Many other states don’t have this kind of a safety net. If we hadn’t had that, we probably would have lost the house by now.

I strongly encourage anyone who reading this to call our write your Senators and Representatives and make sure they support ending the Medicare waiting period for people who are medically totally medically disabled. I hope you will also encourage them to support increased funding for the NIH. Research to end cancer and many other serious diseases has been slowed down considerably by the halt in funding increases that has occurred during the Bush Administration. On and encouraging note, May has already been declared Brain Tumor Awareness month. With Edward Kennedy’s unfortunate diagnosis, things began to speed up moving in the right direction.

Finally, if you are working and you haven’t already invested in a long-term disability policy, and there is any way you can afford one, they are worth the sacrifice. If we didn’t have that policy, we wouldn’t still be in the house at this point. So this week began with a lesson. I learned it without whole lot of joy, but I’m again trying to remember to be grateful for what I have.

More LIVESTRONG Snapshots

2008-08-04T22:14:00.000-07:00

Blog # 4

Entry 3 left off Friday evening, less than halfway through the LIVESTRONG Summit. Saturday was a good day. There was some good advice on marketing and then another group project; we put on a mock fundraiser party. Our event was a lot of fun. I got to read poetry and play Demo Chef - in addition to informing people about LAF and some of the good work they do.

On Saturday evening, the LAF hosted a huge dinner at the Columbus Zoo. I enjoyed the opportunity to talk with new friends. I didn’t walk around the zoo but I had a great time. While riding back to the hotel with Julie and Keith Houston, I realized what I like about the LAF. It empowers individuals to use their expertise to help cure cancer. Other major organizations I have worked with have seemed much more hierarchical. They allow volunteers to be a small cog in the big machine, but innovation and moxie are not necessarily welcome. Their message has been, “You can help with our gig, but don’t push the new ideas. We’re not really that interested in what you are doing, so just hush up and do what is best for you.” The LAF encourages individuals to take charge of their own solutions. There is an entrepreneurial spirit. I appreciate the option to not have to kiss butt in order to do I want to.

Sunday morning at the summit was really nice. I finally connected with the majority of the brain tumor survivors in attendance. I did a lot of networking throughout the summit. Again on Sunday, I collected a lot of cards.

The closing session at the summit was very impressive. It opened with an address from the Governor of Ohio. Then there was a panel with a former director of the NIH, The Chief Medical Correspondent for CNN, the president of Ohio State University, the president of the LAF and Lance Armstrong. It was a very inspiring group. The speakers throughout the summit were all impressive. Friday morning opened with a speech by amazing doctor from Harlem, NY. He is renown for having created a system that helps low income patients learn to navigate the medical system. The outcomes of increased survival time and quality of life have been amazingly positive. On Saturday Morning we started off hearing from a former Surgeon General. John McCain was there on Thursday evening for the Presidential Town Hall. The LAF did a great job bringing in influential people to meet with us. We were very appreciative.

It’s a week since the summit convened. I still haven’t had time to send out information about my book, Lemonade - Notes To Cancer or my workshops on Healing Through Creativity. All things in their time, I suppose. I was glad to meet so many great people while I was in Columbus. It is a nice big little city. I hope I can go back to spend a little more time there.

Oh-Hi-o!

From the LIVESTRONG SUMMIT

2008-08-03T19:27:00.001-07:00

Blog #3

I’m hailing from Columbus, OH, where I’m participating in the second LIVESTRONG summit. 800 of the 1000 participants here are cancer survivors. Take that cancer! The event organizers placed me in the fundraising track for breakout sessions. It was a bit intimidating to end up there. I’m a writer and a poet. I’ve had some luck asking friends and family to support my efforts to get out and read poetry at support groups and conferences. I have really appreciated their help, but I’m not so sure how well I can do it on a larger scale. This must be where faith comes in handy, and I get to reckon with there being some reason I ended up where I did.

The first breakout session was pretty fun. They divided our group of about 110 people into 12 smaller teams. They gave us little digital video cameras and assigned us to film commercials for the LIVESTRONG. We had 60 minutes to film a 60 second commercial. Our message needed to support LIVESTRONG’s mission: “To Make Cancer a National Priority. It also had to convince people to donate to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, and share how that can be done. Collaborating in groups to do this was fun, intense, and at times frustrating. We did okay, but there was another group that really nailed the message. Good for them. This project was a pretty good approach to teambuilding. In the next session, a couple that do a lot of fundraising for LAF talked to us about how they have found success. The central message was to work fundraising into something we already have fun with and know.

Since one of my favorite things to do with my friends and family since my diagnosis with brain cancer has been to play softball, I thought a tournament would be a good way to raise funds and have some fun. So now I have an idea for a fundraiser that could actually end up a pretty cool event.

Well, it’s late in the Buckeye state and I have an early date with my LIVESTRONG buddies, so goodnight for tonight. There’s a jazzy piano trickling out of my Mac book. After a quick shower, I’m knockin’ out for hopefully a nice solid night of snooze. Jetlag be gone! As my homie Keith likes to say, “Peace and hair grease.”

Wrick

2008-07-23T11:35:00.000-07:00

Blog #2

Alive and well on for the second blog. The building process was surprisingly challenging. It was supposed to be easy, and it almost was, but using my 1990’s skill set on post millennium software created some interesting issues. For instance, since I never publish anything off the cuff, I wrote in Word. Then I copied and pasted the text into Blogger. - and it didn’t show up. Fortunately I had someone blessed with modern day computer acumen to beg help from. So now I know what I write in Word and paste into Blogger has to go into the html clipboard instead of the text clipboard. That’s your blog reader and aspiring blogger tip for the day….

You know how you need to have kids around to program the VCR properly? If nothing else, that question reveals my Worldview and when my technological aptitude started to fall behind. It was a long time ago. VCR’s are on the way out and I never programmed one. Perhaps that is the price I paid for not parenting young children. Once they get to be teens they indulge you, but don’t necessarily want to be bothered explaining what they did. By they time they’re in their 20’s, you’re already spending most of your time repairing the house and you would rather they just made whatever gizmo you’re trying to turn on work. So I got where I’m at on this blog with a lot of help from more patient people who can read directions on a computer monitors and actually apply them to make processes work. I am humbled and grateful for those who love me enough to help me look competent to the rest of the world.

We’re doing okay at ye ol’ lemonade stand, even though so many loved ones are in turmoil. It has been a very busy 3 weeks. A lot of people are rightfully needy. Major life changes are happening and we are the Kool Aide house. So we welcome strays, and we’ll keep it that way, but we are ready for most of the people in our lives to have things start working for them. We want to enjoy watching people succeeding, getting what they want and understanding the challenges they encounter on their journeys. One central theme always seems to be that you can change yourself, your perspective, and you can want what is best for you and others, but you can’t change another person. Well, I suppose that’s not true for parents, who do their best to show their kids the ropes. Molding, shaping, fine-tuning, detailing - these are the parents’ realms. And then some day, most of them get to give up their role and just hope their baby birds have the balance to fly straight and enough sense the stay away from cats.

Well, that’s it for now. Stay away from those cats, unless you are a cat person, in which case I have to say that dogs rule, but that’s just my opinion, and so’s the rest of this stuff.

Peace and Love

Rick

Check out my Slide Show!

2008-07-19T16:10:00.001-07:00

Chaos and Opportunity

2008-07-19T14:50:00.000-07:00

Opportunity grows in chaos’ fertile soil. This month has brought a nearly overwhelming level of opportunity. People are going through changes at the speed of life and sometimes it’s a rough ride. My grandson is spending lots of time watching Jerry Springer during his visit. Maybe the travails of trailer trash make sense while he processes the unwelcome mess of change that recently landed in his life. The 12 year old girl across the street is a raging cauldron of hormones. She’s not exactly rolling with the changes either. Fortunately they have video games to help them cope.

I’m at a softball game writing my first blog entry. I’ve heard this is the best way to connect with people in Cyber Space, I’m exceeding the scope of my 1990’s computer skill set, post THC and brain surgery. Now here’s a live account of a Friday evening Recreation D Co-Ed softball game: Neither side’s defense was the greatest in the 1st inning, but there’s a strong feeling among on our team that all will be o.k. The cirrus clouds are fading from yellow to orange. Bobby waits for his at bat while the opposing pitcher warms up. Our catcher’s suggested strategy: “Wait for your pitch.” He hits a single on pitch #4. Then Megan’s single advances Bobby to third. It’s only a matter of time. The opposing pitcher walks our next batter to load the bases. Loaded bases…will chaos or opportunity prevail? Is there a difference? Looking up and the clouds are darkened to purple and gray.