Giving Thanks

I received a solicitation from the Indiana University Cancer Center yesterday, and my first thought was, "Boy, I'd give my left nut to help find a cure for cancer!"

But seriously folks...

It's coming up on two years since my initial diagnosis, and Thanksgiving seems to be an appropriate time of year to reflect on where we've been in the last couple of years. If not for the intellectual curiosity of folks like Dr. Einhorn, I might not be around today. So the Rev. and I will be making a donation to further research at IU.

You can give to IU online through the IU Foundation, but it's a pain in the butt using this method to designate your gift for cancer research. The easier way to support IU cancer research is to write a check to "IU Foundation/Hem-Onc Gifts" and mail to:

Indiana University Cancer Center
c/o Indiana University Foundation
PO Box 663802
Indianapolis IN 46266-3802

Happy Thanksgiving! Follow the Rev. and I online tomorrow as we head to Atlanta.

Reason # 7,348

Reason #7,348 to thank Dr. Einhorn.

Ok, so I haven't actually sat down and counted up the reasons, but as I was driving in blinding rain to Wally World last night at 11pm on a quest for a pump to keep the water out of the basement I had two flashes of insight:

One, on the heels of being in NOLA it is interesting how big a little bit of water in the basement can seem.
Complaining is a leisure activity: it was late, we were tired, it kept raining, the water kept rising, and after not falling down for well over two years that I slipped twice on our concrete patio and scraped and bruised toe/foot/knee and my ego.
Perspective is a gift: so I may need to repack my grandma's dishes, but I also need to get them out an use them anyway, it's not like the entire basement was flooded 4 or more feet. (What a mess THAT would be!)

Second, (and the reason that I'm blogging) I'm sure glad I am that I don't have to face everything by myself. But it really is easier for me to have someone else sharing in the frustration of the situation. We fell into bed exhausted, resigned to the knowledge that there would be water in the basement in the morning, but we did it together.

Thank you Dr. Einhorn.

BTW: I have bailed that basement window well by myself before, it was a pain, but it was day light. 4 inches of rain fell in an hour that day. And I followed it with 2 hours of what I call the "Shop Vac Shuffle" in the church basement. The church has since installed pumps that worked very nicely last night where were got about 5 inches in total.

IU Redux

Well, I think we've made our last medically related trip to Indianapolis. I like the city, to tell the truth, and I could see myself living there -- there's lots of things to do and it's not as crazy as the "big" cities out there. Anyway, we had one more round of visits with the gurus at IU Cancer Center. Dr. Foster said I was healing very well from the surgery. We also met Dr. Einhorn (the man, the myth, the legend) for the first time. What a nice guy! Very friendly and unassuming, although I will say that his picture on the IU website is a bit out-of-date. Sarah resisted the urge to prostrate herself and kiss his feet in adoration and was content to thank him profusely for pioneering the chemotherapy regime that saved my life.

We also took some pics at the Richard & Annette Bloch Cancer Survivors Park next to the IU Medical Center. As I was making this entry, I discovered that there are multiple versions of this park all over the country! All of the parks have been made possible by the R. A. Bloch Cancer Foundation which is based in Kansas City (Mr. Bloch was the cofounder of H&R Block). Who knew?

We were told that I had maybe a 10% chance of teratoma returning, and a very small chance that the cancer itself would come back. Dr. Einhorn also suggested I could get rid of "Harry the Bastard" (my port-a-cath) if I wanted. I'm giving serious thought to the suggestion. It's not like I need a constant reminder that I'm not out of the woods yet. If I do have a recurrence of the active germ cell cancer that requires additional chemotherapy, I can always have another port put in. I think I'm willing to take that risk if it means asserting my freedom from cancer.

We returned from Indy to find a letter from the FAA telling me that while I couldn't get a regular medical certificate because of my history of cancer, I would be able to get a special issuance certificate. This basically means that I can return to flying, but will need to update the FAA annually on my condition for the next five years or so. I think I can handle that! I'll be scheduling my first post-cancer solo flight as soon as I can.