Caught In The Crossfire

I expect all of us at the Hotel have heard conflicting opinions from different docs. And even different things from the same doc on separate occasions. And that can and does sometimes drive us a bit wacky.

But as a recovering lawyer-- one day at a time-- I think I may have always been a bit more tolerant and understanding of medical uncertainty. When analyzing legal issues, the relevant facts are rarely entirely known or certain, and they have this annoying tendency to keep changing over time as a matter progresses. The pertinent legal principles and statutes often consist of vaguely worded generalities, and their application to the facts at hand is a matter on which reasonable minds can and will differ. And when it comes to predicting how judges and juries may decide a case, a lawyer might as well be handicapping a high-stakes horse race. Given all of the unknowns of melanoma and the complexity of human anatomy, physiology and biology, how very much harder must it be for an oncologist to predict the future course of this disease and the effectiveness of any of the limited number of treatment options available to halt or slow its progression?

So, I’ve been making a concerted effort not to ask questions that call for my docs to guess. (Call it professional courtesy among two professions that aren’t the best of friends.) And next time I find myself caught in the crossfire of conflicting opinions, I’m going to try to cut oncologists some slack. But that doesn’t mean I won’t whine about it, to the tune of Stevie Ray Vaughan’s “Crossfire”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F73EcycGCO8


Day by day night after night,
Hounded by those Black C frights
Hurry here, hustlin' there,
No one's got a life to spare
Schedule’s tight, nothin's free,
Won't somebody come and rescue me
I am stranded, caught in the crossfire
Stranded, caught in the crossfire

Truth’s obtuse, guessing is nigh,
Check your moles not to die, die, die
Beggin' for quarter, stealin' some time,
Come on can't you see that I
I am stranded, caught in the crossfire
I am stranded, caught in the crossfire

We need to share some kindness,
Some cancer empathy, because
We're stranded, caught in the crossfire

Right the wrong, help the weak,
Always turning the other cheek
Trust your maker, don't be no fool,
Forever mindful of the golden rule
We got stranded, caught in the crossfire
We got stranded, caught in the crossfire
We got stranded, caught in the crossfire
Stranded, caught in the crossfire
Help me

A Beginning, Not An End

As we all know, or will soon learn, life forever changes the day we check into the Hotel Melanoma. Some of those life changes, in a word, bite.

But it seems that quite few of we residents dwell on the bad and, instead, we search for and celebrate the good stuff in our altered lives. We’re thankful for the bonds we share with our new cancer “affinity group”, bonds that are so much deeper than those we share with groups like our college alumni association. (I wonder if some enterprising credit card company would issue us a “Hotel Melanoma” credit card, in black of course, with rewards points redeemable at our favorite cancer treatment centers.) Melanoma reshuffles our priorities and values, and we’re grateful for its kick in the rear. Family, faith, and friends come to the forefront of our lives, where they always should’ve been, but perhaps in the “old days” sometimes weren’t. And we find strengths and abilities within ourselves that we’d never before known were there.

All in all, our check-in day is a beginning, not an end, and the first step in an adventurous new journey into an unknowable future. With apologies to R.E.M., I’ll leave you with my spin on “It’s The End Of The World”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0GFRcFm-aY


That's great, it starts with a skin quake, catch no breaks, some novacaine -
Getting loose in what God made. Eye of a hurricane, listen to your guts churn -
C serves its own needs, regardless of your own needs. Speeding up our clock,
plead, drugs flow, strength goes. Doctors talk in babble, cause fears at night,
much fright. Mired in the fire, we present insurance claims for this medicine for
hire and our claims aren’t light. Find cure, isn't coming in a hurry with this fury
breathing down your neck. Seems my team physicians baffled, pumps, docs in crocs. Look at my slow gains! Fine then. Uh oh, overflow, populating,
flew the coup, but that’s not new. Save yourself, serve yourself. C serves its
own needs, listen to your heart plead. Tell me that it’s captured and it’s
evident in your sights - right. I’m vitriolic, bit psychotic, slammed, fright, bright lights, feeling pretty psyched.

It's the end of my world as I know it.
It's the end of my world as I know it.
It's the end of my world as I know it but I feel fine.

Six o'clock - scanning hour. Don't get caught in that rush hour. Crash and burn,
return, listen to your guts churn. Medics in uniform and tides turning,
blood letting. Every new round escalates. Radioactive incinerate. Light a candle,
fright’s a motive. Calm down, calm down. Spin that wheel, luck, luck. Uh oh,
this means some fear – cancer’s here. Cancer stage is too clear! A tournament,
a tournament, a tournament of tries. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives
I’ll not decline.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

The other night I tripped some new experimental drugs in trials. It’s Dacarbazine.
Interferon. Interleukin, Vinblastin and Cisplatin.
Chemo party, bones quake, belly screams, boom! It’s symbiotic, bit psychotic,
slammed, but live, right? Right.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine...fine...

(It's time I had some time alone)

A Mole Man

To the tune of the Blues Brothers’ version of “Soul Man”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnaSRhMB_qo


Hummin' to you with a UV load
Good sunnin', I did a truckload
And when ya get it, ha
You got somethin'
But don't worry, new meds comin’

I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
Got no sun tan

Got what I got the hard way
And I got to make it better
Each and every day
So honey don't you fret
Cause you ain't seen nothing yet

I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
Got no sun tan

I was brought up without sunscreen
I learned how to burn before docs could speak
I am music-mated to Woodstock
When I start bloggin’
Oh I can't stop

I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
I'm a mole man
Got no sun tan

Grab the rope
And let me pull you in
Give you hope
And be your C-free pale friend, yeah
(Yeah) yeah (yeah)

(I'm talkin about a) mole man
(I'm a) mole man
(And you) mole man
(Ah) mole man
(Oh lord) mole man
(I'm a) mole man
(And you) mole man

Hummin’ to you, with a UV load
Good sunnin’, I did a truck load
and when you get it, you got something
don't worry, 'cause cure’s coming
I'm a mole man
Got what I got, the hard way
and we’ll make it better, each and every day
So honey, I said don't you fret
'cause you ain't seen nothing yet
Well grab the rope, and I'll pull you in
Give you hope, and be your C-free pale friend ya ( ya ) ya ( ya ) help

A Word From The Boss

To the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSgEDKjmT5o


You'd better pale out
You'd better not fry
Better not sprout
I'm telling you why
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds

They’re mapping your skin
And checking it twice
Gonna find out who's naughty and nice
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds

He’ll praise you when you’re ‘screening
He knows when you're fake bake
He knows if moles are bad or good
So you'd better be good for goodness sake!

O! You'd better pale out!
You'd better not fry
You better not sprout
I'm telling you why
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds
Cancer docs are making their rounds

Black Friday

Wouldn’t it be great if “Black Friday” was about raising melanoma awareness rather than about searching for bargain prices on stuff we don’t really need? Or what if one of the big retailers like Walmart agreed to donate .1% of today’s sales revenues to melanoma research? Personally, I’d rather have another round of biochemo than go anywhere near my local Walmart or the like on this Black Friday. But knowing that I’m (in a lot of ways) out there on the fruitcake fringe of American society, perhaps there’s a way we at the Hotel Melanoma can co-opt this annual day of shopping frenzy for the benefit of our cause?

I’ll leave you with a new version of “California Dreamin’” by The Mamas and The Papas…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN3GbF9Bx6E


All my moles are brown
(All my moles are brown)
And my skin is gray.
(And my skin is gray).
I refuse to shop
(I refuse to shop)
On this Black Friday.
(On this Black Friday).

I'll be safe and warm
(I'll be safe and warm)
Since I’m not in this craze
(Since I’m not in this craze)
Melanoma dreamin'
(Melanoma dreamin') on such a Black Friday.

Stopped in to big box I passed along the way.
Well I got down on my knees
(got down on my knees)
And I began to pray.
(I began to pray).
You know we’d love to share in sales.
(love to share in sales).
’Til then I’ll stay away.
(yes I'’ll stay away).
Melanoma dreamin'
(Melanoma dreamin') on one more Black Friday.

All my moles are brown
(All my moles are brown)
And my skin is gray.
(And my skin is gray).
I ain’t goin’ to shop
(I ain’t goin’ to shop)
On this Black Friday.
(On this Black Friday).

If we do some pleadin’
(If we do some pleadin’)
This could be our day.
(This could be our day.)
Melanoma dreamin' (Melanoma dreamin') on one more Black Friday,
Melanoma dreamin' on one more Black Friday,
Melanoma dreamin' on one more Black Friday.

Molemates

We guests of The Hotel Melanoma share an involuntary, yet extraordinary kinship born of shared experiences, hopes and fears. Back in 2003 when things were quite crazy in my own fight with the beast, I was blessed with the love and support of my spouse, family and friends. But I didn’t know a single fellow melanoma fighter with whom I could “vent” or share some dark humor, knowing they’d “get” what I was talking or laughing about because they were walking, or had walked, in my shoes. Consequently, I often felt quite alone in a crowd of well-meaning and supportive, but largely clueless loved ones. And that was entirely my own fault, because I’d made no effort at all to reach out and find a support network of other guests of this Hotel. But, oh my, how things have changed since I came out of my room and met some of the other guests at this place.

With thanks and gratitude to all of my new pale friends and ‘molemates’, here’s a Thanksgiving version of Pink Floyd’s “Us And Them”…



Us, not them
And after all we're more than ordinary friends
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Forward we strive for more years
No more tanning hides
In the cool shade we sat, with sunscreen by the vat
Spread from side to side

Black’s our hue
And we know pale’s so rich and pink’s not new
Ups, some downs
But in the end it's only round and round and round
Haven't you heard it's our battle for cures
We Black C warriors cried
Listen son, said those fools in the sun
There's fun for you outside

Down, not out
It can be helped but there's a lot of this about
With, some clout
And who'll deny it's what our fighting's all about
Out of the way, it's a scanning day
I've got things on my mind
For lack of our slice of research’s price
This cancer’s thrived

Take It From Dr. Bob Dylan

To the tune of Bob Dylan's “Lay, Lady, Lay”…


Bob Dylan Lay Lady Lay by FISHNCHIX2

Stay, lady, stay, stay away from those tan beds
Stay, lady, stay, stay away from those tan beds
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I'll show pale to you and you'll look quite fine.

Stay, lady, stay, stay away from those tan beds
Stray, lady, stray, stray from your tan awhile
Until the end of days, let me see you make docs smile
Black C is dirty but your scans are clean
And use the best ‘screen that you’ve ever seen.

Stray, lady, stray, stray from your tan awhile
Why wait any longer for your pale to begin
You can save your skin and look like new
Why wait any longer for the ones you love
When they’re standing in front of you.

Stay, lady, stay, stay away from those tan beds
Stay, lady, stay, stay while your life is still ahead
I long to see you without cancer’s plight
This song’s to preach to you tan ain’t right
Stay, lady, stay, stay while your life is still ahead.

Idiopathy

For the last eighteen months or so I’ve been seeing an eye doc about a retina problem that may or may not have anything to do with anything else. (These visits are sort of a “fountain of youth” experience for me, as I’m probably the clinic’s only non-Medicare patient, and the only guys my age I see there are wheeling their very elderly parents in for cataract surgery or the like.) I’ve come to the conclusion that there must be something in the Hippocratic Oath that prevents a doc from saying he’s clueless about the cause of a problem-- instead, he tells me it’s “idiopathic”, which is doctor-speak for “I don’t know why this is happening”. Look it up.

But, you know, given what could be causing the problem but most likely isn’t, perhaps I should chalk this up as one more thing to be thankful for?

Which reminds me of a song, Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fqFUmo8VVg0&feature=related


Doctor, my eyes have seen eight years
And a slow parade of fears without dying
Now I want to understand

You have done all that you could
To swap the evil for the good without lying
You must tell me if you can

Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise for getting toxic for so long

'Cause I have wandered through C’s world
And as each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from these dreams
Cancer goes just where it will
I never realized that until I got to reading
That it's sneakier than it seems

Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what you see
Just tell no lies
Just say if meds weren't great for me

Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see balls fly
Is this the PRICE for having learned how not to slice

Survive

The Saturday before Thanksgiving is kind of an unofficial holiday for me. It was the day in 2003 I was discharged from the hospital after completing my fourth and final week of biochemotherapy, a week in which things got kind of crazy towards the end. (When a nurse tells you “don’t try to get out of that bed until I tell you to”, please listen.) On Thanksgiving Day, my wife and I joined some good friends at their home for a very fine dinner, which I barely sampled, and after which I promptly passed out on their couch. And it wasn’t due to the good wine I sipped at dinner, dang it. One of our hosts, a rather strapping retired Naval aviator, offered to carry me home (we live across the street) but I refused his kind offer of assistance and tottered home. And thus began the transition from patient to survivor.

Wishing all of you, wherever you are in your stay at this Hotel, a very Happy Thanksgiving, here’s my version of Jimmy Buffett’s “Survive”…



I play my stereo loud
When I'm away from that hospital crowd
Hopin', jokin'
Clowns we all are

Sometimes, kinda get real ill
When I receive my latest medical bill
But I’ll claim it, and they'll pay it
'Cause it just helps me to

Survive (survive), stay alive
Will I get it again
Survive, stay alive
Can't say where it ends

Clouds lift and there're mountains below
Been awhile since I've seen any snow
It's chillin', so thrillin', so good to be back

Feels nice, to be home for awhile
Let's swig champagne till we break into smiles
We'll keep fightin', incitin'
'Cause that’s the reason we

Survived (survived), stayed alive
Through the thick and the thin
Survive, stay alive
Where will it all end

But my bags ain't unpacked
'Cause I've got to go back some day
But I know we'll all

Survive (survive), stay alive
Through the thick and the thin
Survive, stay alive
Until it all ends

Oh we'll, survive (survive), stay alive
When will it all end
Survive, stay alive
Will we get it again

A Foolish Man

Just a song today, so dust off your Moog Synthesizer and sing along with this golden oldie, Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s “Lucky Man”…



He made poor choices
Found nurses by the score
All dressed in hazmats
And waiting by the door

Ooooh, what a foolish man he was
Ooooh, what a tannin’ fan he was

White coated residents
They stood by his bed
An old lumpy mattress
On which meds were fed

Ooooh, what a foolish man he was
Ooooh, what a tannin’ fan he was

He came to fight wars
For this cancer can’t be king
Started bloggin’ ‘bout his story
So people would sing

Ooooh, what a foolish man he was
Ooooh, what a tannin’ fan he was

This bullet had found him
His skin looked like old hide
Some sunscreen could save him
But he laid out and he fried

Ooooh, what a foolish man he was
Ooooh, what a tannin’ fan he was

A Pharmaceutical Breakthrough?

Believe it or not, recent medical research indicates Viagra may be useful as an “off-label” treatment for advanced melanoma. Which reminds me of one of my favorite old lawyer jokes: “What happens when an attorney takes Viagra? (rimshot) His head swells.”

And that’s the only snickering joke I’ll make about this potential treatment breakthrough. But you just know there’s a song coming, my version of the Eagles’ “Tequila Sunrise”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ws-YqUcD0LY


It's another Viagra surprise,
Spreadin’ quickly around the guys,
We said “oh my”,
He was just a mired man,
Searchin’ for new meds he’d like to try,
As days go by.

Every time when those scans come down,
Not another lonely cell is found,
Black C’s not runnin’ round.

It wasn't just another cancer,
And it couldn't keep from comin’ on,
It stays so long.
Oh and it's a hollow feelin’,
When it comes down to stealin’ friends,
It never ends.

Take another shot of courage,
Wonder will the right meds ever come,
This might be one.

It’s another Viagra surprise,
And this old world don’t look the same,
A welcome gain.

Guessing Our Condition

The only thing that’s certain at the Hotel Melanoma is the fact we’ve been diagnosed with the disease. The rest of our stay is chock full of uncertainty and the best guesses of good doctors. The causes of our disease, choosing docs and treatment options, our prognosis and odds of survival or a recurrence, the biological processes underlying metastasis, you name it, nothing about melanoma is clear or certain. And all of that relentlessly unending uncertainty can drive one just a little bit crazy at times.

But, on the other hand, maybe this is one of the unexpected blessings of life at the Hotel. We now know that all we have for certain is this day and a chance to do something with it-- and perhaps something just a little bit loony. We’ve finally learned that time is, and always was, of the essence. And we’ve lost the arrogant illusion that we’re in control of our lives, and perhaps realized who is and always was.

So, have a happy and full Monday, and sing along with my version of R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion”…



Oh, life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
For distance from your sights
Oh no, docs said too much
They’ve said it all

That's me at the clinic
That's me in the scan sites
Guessing my condition
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, docs said too much
Docs haven't said enough

I thought that I sent you packing
I thought that we had our fling
I think I thought I made you fly

Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm losing my illusions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost, misguided old fool
Oh no, docs said too much
They’ve said it all

Consider this
Consider this C of the century
Consider its grip
That brought me to my knees pale
What if all my fantasies
Come falling back down
And now docs said too much

I thought that I sent you packing
I thought that we had our fling
I think I thought I made you fly

This is not a dream
This is not a dream

That's me at the clinic
That's me in the scan sites
Guessing my condition
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, docs said too much
Docs haven't said enough

I thought that I sent you packing
I thought that we had our fling
I think I thought I made you fly

This is not a dream
Try, cry, why, try
This is not a dream
not a dream, not a dream...

'Screen's So Good

According to The Skin Cancer Foundation, up to 90 percent of the visible changes on our skin that are commonly attributed to aging are in fact caused by years of unprotected sun exposure. This old boomer would be ‘Exhibit A’ in proving the truth of this proposition. If reducing your risk of melanoma isn’t reason enough for you to take care of the skin you’re in, think about looking like an old leather jacket or a weathered-out old barn by the time you reach my age. We guys can maybe get away with sun-weathered faces because some folks may think we look “distinguished”. It’s not fair, but a woman with the same appearance may just hear she looks old. I know I’m probably just preaching to the choir today, but please keep encouraging your friends to practice safe sun.

I'll end this homily with a new version of John Mellencamp’s “Hurts So Good”...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dOsbsuhYGQ


When I was a young boy,
Said put away that young boy pale
Now that I'm gettin' older, so much older
I long for those young boy days
With some ‘screen on you,
With some ‘screen on you,
Lord knows there are things we can do, baby,
Just me and you.
Come on and spread it

’Screen’s so good.
Come on baby, makes you look so good.
Sometimes sun can turn you to wood.
You want to look so good.

Don't want to look so like siding.
Just tryin' to save myself a little bit of sun, yeah.
Sun always looked so invitin'
Please use sunscreen so you look young
Hey baby, it's you.
Come on, girl, it’s for you.
Sink that ‘screen right through your bones, baby.
Let's see what you can do.
Come on and spread it

’Screen’s so good.
Come on baby, makes you look so good.
Sometimes sun can turn you to wood.
You want to look so good.

I ain't talkin' no small deal
I ain't saved from tans myself.
I ain't stalkin' no scan squeals
Maybe we could block around all day long,
block around all day long.

’Screen’s so good.
Come on baby, makes you look so good.
Sometimes sun can turn you to wood.
You want to look so good.

’Screen’s so good.
Come on baby, makes you look so good.
Sometimes sun can turn you to wood.
You want to look so good.

Hey, hey

Law Jive

Not that I’d ever get involved in such mischief, but I heard about a number of my molemates peppering a tanning salon chain’s Facebook page with some ‘public service announcements’ regarding the known link between indoor tanning and melanoma. This got me to wondering about the products liability legal issues arising from tanning bed usage, so I did a brief bit of Googling.

Before I “talk law”, let me set a few things straight. I’m a retired lawyer, in a blissful state of “one day at a time” recovery from the profession. I am NOT giving legal advice. Nor am I suggesting that anyone should remotely consider retaining my legal services if I wasn’t retired-- I was to the courtroom what Deputy Sheriff Barney Fife was to law enforcement. And since personal injury law was not what I did for a living, I hereby disclaim having any expertise whatsoever in this field.

But here’s the scoop. Where medical research goes, plaintiffs’ lawyers quickly follow. So with all of the published medical evidence showing a direct causal link between indoor tanning and a greatly increased risk and incidence of melanoma, particularly among women under age 40, it should come as no surprise to anyone that there are a lot of personal injury plaintiffs’ lawyers out there who seem to be quite interested in bringing products liability claims against tanning bed manufacturers and tanning salons. (At least one of these enterprising lawyers has suggested that tanning beds are “the new cigarette”, and class-action lawyers may go after the indoor tanning industry like they did the tobacco industry.) Theories of liability include the “strict liability” claim that tanning beds are inherently “defective”, liability based on the failure to provide adequate warning of the potential dangers of tanning bed use, and false advertising claims based on misrepresentations concerning the supposed safety of indoor tanning.

My guess is that the industry defends such suits with the time-honored “blame some other guy” defense, arguing that the plaintiff’s melanoma was caused by genetic factors and outdoor tanning, in an effort to deflect the medical evidence linking indoor tanning to melanoma. But that’s the stuff of which lawsuits are made.

So, if your dermatologist or oncologist has ever told you they think your indoor tanning history has something to do with causing your melanoma, you just might want to consider seeking a case evaluation from a first-rate personal injury lawyer with experience in bringing products liability lawsuits against the indoor tanning industry. Just sayin’…

A Commercial Break

I don’t know about you, but I kind of enjoyed watching my local NFL team play the other day without the pink shoes and stuff (and actually win for a change). And I couldn’t help but notice that the official awareness colors for November’s ‘cancers of the month’ were conspicuously absent from Sunday’s NFL games.

Don’t get me wrong, pink cancer is a nasty beast and I hate it as much as I do every other cancer. Like nearly everyone, I know women who are fighting this damn disease and my hat goes off (in the shade) to the millions of folks who participate in fundraising events like the “Race For The Cure”. (And I hope they all wore sunscreen during the events.) But I find the degree of commercialization of this cause just a little bit annoying, and perhaps counterproductive, and there are a lot of breast cancer survivors and breast cancer awareness organizations that agree. Does every product that carries a pink ribbon truly benefit this good cause to any significant degree, or is some of this just a rather cynical marketing ploy to boost sales?

But hey, I’ll be the first guy to be ‘tickled black’ in the unlikely event some professional sports organization adopts melanoma next May. (Women’s Pro Beach Volleyball would fall quite high on my list of preferred sponsors.) If that’s the game we need to play, count me all in.

That’s more than enough venting for today, so I’ll sign off with a new version of John Mellencamp’s “Pink Houses”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOfkpu6749w


He’s a pale man with the black C livin' like a black warrior should
He's got a bigscreen tube showin’ all those hits hard
You see he knows that he's got it so good
And there's a lineman wearin’ pink shoes missin' all his assigned slots
And he looks at him and says, "Hey darlin', I can remember when
you could make a block."

Oh but ain't that America where pink’s the creed
Ain't that America nothin’s for free baby
Ain't that America home of the greed
Little pink ribbons that ain’t for we

There's a boomer in a blue gown
Hooked up to a chemo pumpin' station
He's got queasy stare, queasy smile
He says, "Lord this can’t be my destination."
'Cause they told me when I was younger
"Boy you wanna be tanner yet."
But just like everything else those old crazy dreams
Just kinda came and went

Oh but ain't that America where pink’s the creed
Ain't that America nothin’s for free baby
Ain't that America home of the greed
Little pink ribbons that ain’t for we

Well there's people and more people
Where do they go, go, go
Go to hear all those pink cries
And go walkin’ down at the race for cancer blows
Ooh yeah
And there's winners and there's losers
But this ain't no small deal
'Cause the sponsor man baby pays for the thrills, the bills,
the pills that kill

Oh but ain't that America where pink’s the creed
Ain't that America nothin’s for free baby
Ain't that America home of the greed
Little pink ribbons that ain’t for we

There Must Be Some Way Out Of Here

Every time I have a checkup with the melanoma doc, I walk in hoping that I’ll walk out with some sort of certificate of graduation and lifetime warranty that is my ticket out of the Hotel Melanoma. I know that’s not going to happen, but am nevertheless convinced I’d be foolish not to hope. Meanwhile, with another winter storm approaching, I think I’ll hunker down, call room service, and order in.

My fractured version of Bob Dylan’s “All Along The Watchtower”...



“There must be some way out of here" said the patient ‘bout this grief
"There's too much infusion", I can't get no relief
Toxic meds, they fill my line, surgeons look for worst
All of us among our kind know what any suntan’s not worth.

"No reason to get excited", the doc he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us who feel your life’s not lost all hope
’Cause you and I, we've been through that, and this is not your fate
So let us not talk deeply now, more patients and I’m late".

All along these Hotel halls, doctors scanned anew
While all the nurses came and went, barefoot patients, too.

Outside in the distance a pink crowd did howl
Pink runners were approaching, we black began to growl.

“There must be some way out of here" said the patient ‘bout this thief
"There's too much confusion", I can't get no relief
Cancer docs, they think I’m fine, bring me down to Earth
All of us among our kind know what any doc’s guess is worth.

"No reason to get all frighted", the doc he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us who feel your life’s not lost all hope
”Cause you and I, we've been through that, and this is not your fate
So let us not talk falsely now, your skin is looking great".

All along these Hotel halls, patients share their news
Since all the suntans came and went, pale is cool for you.

Outside in the distance a skin doc did growl
Fool tanners were still broasting, our crowd began to howl.

Rollin' On The Sunscreen

Just my version of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gpqz3cdVPLM


Found some good docs at the clinic,
Lookin' at those scans ev'ry night and day,
And I never lost one minute of fusin',
Worryin' 'bout the way cells might have spread.

Big Earth keeps on turnin',
Proud boomer stopped his burnin',
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.

Had a lot of scans in Denver,
Pumped a lot of meds down into my veins,
But I never saw the good side of this cancer,
'Til I saved my hide from the UV burn pain.

Big Earth keeps on turnin',
Proud boomer stopped his burnin',
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.

Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.

If you come down to the clinic,
Bet they gonna find some bad moles on skin.
You don't have to worry 'cause those spots look funny,
Doctors at the clinic got scalpels real thin.

Big Earth keeps on turnin',
Proud boomer stopped his burnin',
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.

Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the sunscreen.

A Rolling Stone

I saw my doc a week or so ago, and heard what I’ve been hearing for quite some time. While everything looks just fine right now, there’s no guarantee melanoma won’t crop up in some internal organ. So, I sometimes wish I could implant what’s left of my brain into an android body and starting seeing a cyber mechanic for maintenance rather than an oncologist. But since that ain’t happening, I guess I should just be thankful for how far I’ve come.

So, I’ll sign off with a new version of Bob Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone”…



Once upon a time you tanned so fine,
Had some burns at times in your prime, didn't you?
Skin docs’d call, say, "Beware Sol, you're bound to fall,"
You thought they were all a’kiddin' you.
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was palin' out.
Now you don't talk so loud,
Now you don't seem so proud,
About having to be paler less you squeal.

How does it feel?
How does it feel?
With Hotel M your home?
Like a complete unknown?
Like a rolling stone?

Aw, you've gone to the finest docs all right, you boomer,
But you know you only used to get ‘fused for it.
Nobody’s ever taught you how to go out in sunscreen,
And now you're gonna have to get used to it.
You say you’ll never compromise
With this mystery C, but now you realize
Doc's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say, “Can you someday make me heal?

How does it feel?
How does it feel?
Hotel M’s now home?
With no prognosis known?
A complete unknown?
Like a rolling stone?

Aw, you never turned around to see the frowns
On the doctors in their gowns
When they all did tricks for you.
You never understood that sun ain't no good,
You shouldn't let tanning salons get their kicks with you.
You used to tan on a chaise lounge with no ‘screen or hat
You bronzed out on your shoulders where freckles sat.
Ain't it hard when you discover that
Tan really wasn't where it's at
After it took from you everything it could steal?

How does it feel?
How does it feel?
Hotel M’s now your home?
With no prognosis known?
Like a complete unknown?
Like a rolling stone?

Aw, pink is on the steeple and all the football people
They're all pinkin', thinkin' that there’s sales to make.
Receiving all precious gifts,
But you'd better wear your blackest things, you'd better flaunt it babe.
You used to be so confused
‘Cause oncologists are drags with the language that they used.
Go to them now, they scan you, you can't refuse.
When you do have something, you’ve got something to lose
C’s invisible now, it’s got some secrets to conceal.

How does it feel?
Aw, how does it feel?
To make C your own?
With no prognosis known?
Like a complete unknown?
Like a rolling stone?

Tickle Me Black

Thanks to Al at Black is the New Pink , I learned just the other day that November is the official awareness month for both lung and pancreatic cancer. That’s right, two of the five biggest cancer killers have to share an awareness month, which just can’t help but dilute the message. And among the five most common and deadliest cancers (lung, colon, breast, pancreas, prostate), lung and pancreatic cancer are relative losers in receiving National Cancer Institute funding per new case and per patient death. My best guess is that lung and pancreatic cancer are losing the federal funding race because both are so deadly; and sadly, there just aren’t legions of healthy lung and pancreatic cancer survivors out there who are able to form a loud and effective advocacy group for a more level playing field in cancer funding. So maybe the rest of us at The Hotel Carcinoma ought to climb out of our silos this month and speak out on behalf of lung and pancreatic cancers’ victims?

I look forward to the day when the cancer funding game ceases to be a popularity contest. And when that day comes, I’ll be ‘tickled black’.

And, thanks to Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, there’s a song for that: “Don’t Do Me Like That”…



I was talking with a friend of mine, said some donors had hurt his pride.
Told him that they loved pink so and turned around and let him go.
Then he said, "You better watch your step, or you’re gonna get C
yourself.
Some doc’s gonna tell no lies, cut you down to size."
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
What if we fund all cancers?
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
Someday we might cure you cancer.
Please tickle me black.
Listen donors, can’t you see? Cancer, we should bury thee
If they were in the public eye, gettin' some more bucks to fight.
And you know you better watch your step or you're gonna get C
yourself.
Some doc’s gonna tell no lies, cut you down to size.
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
What if we fund all cancers?
Please, please, please, please...
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
What if we fund all cancers?
Please tickle me black.
'Cause somewhere deep down inside
Someone is saying, "Life doesn't last that long."
I got this feelin' inside night and day
And now I can't take it no more.
Listen donors, can’t you see? Cancer, we could bury thee
If they were in the public eye, gettin' some more bucks to fight.
And you know you better watch your step or you're gonna get C
yourself.
Some doc’s gonna tell no lies, cut you down to size.
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
What if we fund all cancers?
Please, please, please, please...
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
We just might cure you cancer.
Please tickle me black.
Wait!
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
Cancer, cancer, cancer,
Please, please, please...
Yes!
Please tickle me black.
Please tickle me black.
Cancer, cancer, cancer...
Oh, oh, oh...

The Question

I don’t know about you, but one of the hardest things I’ve had to get used to at this Hotel is that the honest answer to a lot of my questions to oncologists is “we don’t know”. It’s just the sneaky and unpredictable nature of this beast. I don’t much like it, but I’ve come to accept it. So, I’ve pretty much stopped asking questions that call for any degree of prognostication on the doc’s part. And I’ve learned not to ask a question if I’m not prepared to deal with an answer I don’t much like—that legal training wasn’t totally wasted on me. Plus my doc shares my love of golf, and we’d much rather chat about our trials and tribulations on the links than melanoma. After all, some crooked tee shots and a lot of three-putts are not the worst problems a guy could have.

So, on this blizzardly morning I’ll leave you with a new version of the Moody Blues’ “Question”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmOZFAYeurY


Why do we never get an answer
From our doctors ‘bout the score?
With a thousand million questions
About fate and death and more.

It's when we stop and look around us
There is one thing that we plead.
For a world of cure infusions
That we’re yearning in our need.

Why do we never get an answer
From our doctors ‘bout the score?
Because the truth is hard to swallow
That's what the call of hope is for.

It's not the way that they say it
When they tell those things to me.
It's more the way that they spin it
When they tell me what will be.

And when you stop and think about it
You won't believe it's true.
That all the drugs you've been given
Have all been good for you.

I'm looking for someone to change my slides.
I'm looking for a miracle in my life.
And if you could see what it's done to me
To lose the tans I knew
For safely paler hue.

Between the sunscreen used in mountains
And the thrashing of UV
There lies a tan I near died for
And none’s paler now than me.

But in the rough off the fairway
My mind becomes confused
Between bad lies and the yardage
And golf clubs that I must choose.

I'm looking for someone to save my hide.
I'm looking for a miracle in my life.
And if you could see what it's done to me
To lose the tans I knew
For safely paler hue
The tans that I once knew.
To learn as we grow old
The secrets of bad moles.

It's not the way that they say it
When they tell those things to me.
It's more the way they really spin it
When they tell me what will be.

Why do we never get an answer
From our doctors ‘bout the score?
With a thousand million questions
About fate and health and more.

It's when we stop and look around us
There is one thing that we plead.
For a world of cure infusions
That we’re yearning in our need.

Why do we never get an answer
From our doctors ‘bout the score?

Hotel Carcinoma

Today is the first day of Lung Cancer Awareness Month. Although it’s the biggest cancer killer of all, for both men and women, lung cancer receives a fraction of the National Cancer Institute funding per new case and per patient death that breast cancer receives.

Lung cancer patients too often get hit with the rap that their disease was a self-inflicted wound from smoking. But the fact is that lung cancer also strikes non-smokers and, guess what-- a whole lot of cancer brands are caused, at least in part, by some bad habit or unwise lifestyle choice. (Anyone thinking about all those sunburns you had as a kid?)

My father-in-law died some twenty years ago from lung cancer. I’m pretty certain that the Army taught him to smoke during World War II when he served in the 82nd Airborne Division as a paratrooper, and I can hardly fault him for picking up the habit under the circumstances. (It would take a lot more than a cigarette to get me to jump out of a perfectly good airplane when people down on the ground were already shooting at me.) Years later he quit, but apparently not in time.

Let’s can the blame game for this or any other cancer, and instead focus on prevention and finding better treatments. For Bill, and all of lung cancer’s victims, and everyone else living somewhere in the Hotel Carcinoma chain, here’s a new version of “Hotel California”…



On a dark crowded highway, cool wind ‘stead of hair
Warm sting of new stitches, raising up some new scares
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a hospital light
Lymph nodes grew heavy, and prospects grew dim
I had to stop for the fight.

There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the clinic bell
And I was thinking to myself
‘This could be heaven or this could be Hell’
Then she picked up a clipboard and she showed me the way
There were nurses down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say…

Welcome to the Hotel Carcinoma
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
What a lovely case.
Plenty of meds at the Hotel Carcinoma
Any time of year (any time of year) you can find them here

Her mind is Ativan-twisted, she got the biopsy bends
She got a lot of tricky, tricky docs, for life depends
Got more scans in the morning, sweet smell of sweat
Some scans to check tumors, some scans to regret

So I called up my Doctor,
‘Please tell me I’m fine’
He said, ‘we haven’t lost a patient here since nineteen ninety-nine’
And still those nurses are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say…

Welcome to the Hotel Carcinoma
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely case
They livin’ it up at the Hotel Carcinoma
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise), bring your tumor slides

Bright lights on the ceiling,
Our bad habits on ice
And she said, ‘we will always be patients here, of our own device’
And in the surgeon’s chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can’t kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
‘Relax’ said the night nurse,
‘We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave!’