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