Right Moves

One of my goals in starting up this blog was to inspire readers to donate to their favorite melanoma cause (and particularly to mine, the melanoma treatment program at the University of Colorado Cancer Center). Thus far, at least as far as I know, I’ve been quite unsuccessful at fundraising through this medium.

So, I’ve been thinking about boarding up the Hotel Melanoma and taking another tack. I’m more than willing to resort to cheap tricks like shaving my head, sporting pink zinc oxide instead of hair, and standing outside the tanning salon down the hill begging for donations. Or maybe I’ll just keep on blogging, in hopes of providing my fellow guests with a musical break from the reality of life at the Hotel. Let me know what you think is the right move.

Meanwhile, I think I need to take a break to recharge (taking a life lesson from my golden retriever) so I’ll leave you with a new version of Bob Seger’s “Night Moves”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zN1_3zHjhW8

Goal was a little too tall
Could've used some new sounds
Blogging posts hardly renowned
Blog does some black-themed ditties from old rock guys
And rants all my own aiming less than high
Always less than high

Outside of good taste when my jokes get heavy
Often to the sounds of my 60’s bevy
Writin' bout mysteries without any clues
Searchin' for the right moves
Tryin' to make some Black C funding news
Searchin’ for the right moves
In these blogspot lines
In these brief blogspot lines

Black C’s not loved, oh no, far from it
I’m not askin' for some pie in the sky bucks hit
I am just mad my ox has been gored
Lookin’ for a sword
And I'd steal away every song I could
To the chat room, to the facebook, with the hope they’re good
I use them, they muse me
’Cause all of us care
We aren’t gettin' our share
Searchin' for the right moves
Tryin' to lose the Black C funding blues
Searching for the right moves
And I keep bloggin’ lines

And oh the hunger
We want the right things
And we’re waiting for the funders
Waiting for the funders

I pray each night about this cancer’s plunder
How far off I sit and wonder
Started humming a song that’s 1970’s news
Keep on searchin’ for the right moves
’Til we just don't seem to have as much to lose
Aim for the right moves
With autumn closing in

Right moves
Searchin’ for the right moves

Can't Find My Way Home

I know I’m one lucky fellow, having enjoyed nearly eight years of “no evidence of disease” status. Nevertheless, I’ve grown quite weary of being an “at-risk” and closely monitored melanoma survivor who will never hear the words “you’re cured”. I try to keep reminding myself, however, that this beats the only known alternative, as there seems to be but one exit door at the Hotel Melanoma.

It’s not that I dislike the medical profession. Docs and other health care professionals have taken great care of me, and the vast majority of them are truly nice people to boot. It’s just that I’m tired of people messing with my old carcass and am burned out on jousting with health insurance companies. Lucky for me, my oncology posse is not prone to practicing defensive medicine and ordering a lot of tests and scans out of an abundance of caution, despite the fact I’m known to be a recovering attorney. So if I show up to a checkup with no complaints and I present no symptoms of concern discernible from a physical examination, they’ll most likely send me on my merry way without ordering any further diagnostic procedures. Otherwise, by now I’d be screaming “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE”!

I’ll end today’s rant with a new version of Steve Winwood’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT-SFgkVlno


Turn over no stones
And leave my body alone
’til something shows change
Big C’s the reason
They've been checking so long
Nobody knows I’m free
Well, I'm round the bend and I just ain't got the time
Well, I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

Turn over no stones
And leave my body alone
’til something shows change
Big C’s the reason
They’ve been checking all these years
No CT shows I’m free
Well, I'm round the bend and I just ain't got the time
Well, I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
Still, I can't find my way home
And, I ain't got nothing wrong
But, I can't find my way home

Another Day On The Beach

I’m heading off to the golf course this morning, where I just know I’ll spend some quality “beach time” trying to get out of sand traps. With sunscreen applied and sporting some sun-protective golf attire, I’ll leave you with a new version of Bonnie Raitt’s “Runaway”…



As I age along,
I wonder what went wrong,
With my tans, in sun that was so strong.
And as I still age on,
I think of the things I've done
Sun-weathered, a-while my skin was young.

I've had scanners miss my brain,
Docs are callin' and make me insane,
Wishin' you were here by me
To join this sunscreen spree
And I wonder--
I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder,
Why,
Why, why, why, why, why I tanned away,
Yes, and I wonder,
A-where C will stray-ay,
I put my tan away,
Tan, tan, tan, tan, tan way.

I'm a-golfin' in the rain,
Putts aren’t fallin' and I feel the pain,
Wishin' lightning would strike me,
To end this bogey spree
And I wonder--
I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder,
Why,
Why, why, why, why, why I played today,
Yes, and I wonder,
A-why I still play-ay,
Another sunscreen day,
Sun, sun, sun, sun, sunscreen day
Sun, sun, sun, sun, sunscreen day.
Sun, sun, sun, sun, sunscreen day.

Light No Pyre

First, a couple of bad facts: melanoma is the leading cause of cancer death in women ages 25 to 30 and is second only to that more popular pink cancer in women ages 30 to 34. And there’s really no room for doubt that excessive exposure to ultraviolet radiation greatly increases one’s risk of landing here at the Hotel Melanoma. So, please, please use a little common sense, stay out of tanning beds and slap on the sunscreen when you’re enjoying the great outdoors. My “healthy” summer tans weren’t worth the misery of even a single day of biochemotherapy.

Jim Morrison, lead singer for The Doors, was legendary for his self-destructive behavior, so I can’t think of a better song to borrow today than “Light My Fire”…

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


You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I didn’t say to you
Girl, you shouldn't be a fryer

Stop it baby, light no pyre
Stop it baby, light no pyre
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire

The time to tempt your fate is through
No time to wallow in sun fire
Fry now you can only lose
And your tan become your funeral pyre

Stop it baby, light no pyre
Stop it baby, light no pyre
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire, yeah

The time to tempt your fate is through
No time to wallow in sun fire
Fry now you can only lose
And your tan becomes your funeral pyre

Stop it baby, light no pyre
Stop it baby, light no pyre
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire, yeah

You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I didn’t say to you
Girl, you shouldn't be a fryer

Stop it baby, light no pyre
Stop it baby, light no pyre
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire
You’ll regret if skin’s on fire

Verses For Nurses

I spent about twenty days in the critical care oncology unit (“Eight East”) at the University of Colorado Hospital in the fall of 2003, undergoing biochemotherapy treatments. Despite the fact that my performance as a patient was way south of stellar, a bunch of very kind, experienced and professional oncology nurses took great care of me and did everything they could to make me as comfortable as possible. And they worked hard to reassure my wife that, notwithstanding my rather scary appearance and reactions to these harsh treatments, things were all going as expected and I was going to survive the week. Ladies (and a couple of gentlemen), you have no idea how important you all were to my rather peaceful state of mind (it wasn’t all due to those drugs) during this time— because I knew I was in very good and attentive nursing hands that weren’t going to let me fall over the edge. So, with thanks to all of you, here’s my altered version of the Eagles’ “Peaceful Easy Feeling”…



I like the things you caring nurses do,
and with a grin, not a frown.
And I’m gonna sleep, thank you,
in Eight East tonight
with my nursing stars all around.
'Cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling
and I know you won't let me down,
though I'm always demanding on your rounds.

And I found out in a day or so
how tough these drugs can be to control.
Ah, but they can't take me any way
you don't already know how to go.
And I gotta peaceful, easy feeling
and I know you won't let me down,
'cause I'm already counting on your rounds.

I got this feeling I will owe you
as a patient who’s no friend.
And my spouse keeps whispering
in my other ear, tells me
you hope not to see me again.
But I got a peaceful, easy feeling
and I know you won't let me down,
'cause I'm already counting on your rounds,
though I've always been acting...
out of bounds.
oooo, oooo

And please accept my apologies for being an ornery patient.