UP AND RUNNING - I THINK!

UP AND RUNNING - I THINK!

As some of you know, it has been awhile since I published a blog and the reason is an attack - or more appropriately - a continued attack of gross stupidity on my part.

My computer became lame and it reached a point where it was extremely slow and undependable - much like it's operator, and it was becoming difficult to get along with - again much like it's operator. My very wonderful son Scott, and his equally wonderful wife Sheri, either felt sorry for me or got tired of hearing me moan and groan as I called them repeatedly with a message like; "What's wrong with this *%#&*! computer! It doesn't work. I hit all the keys and punched all the buttons and it still doesn't work".

I created a huge sense of guilt for myself because of all my whining and fussing - they presented me with a brand new computer. It is beautiful! It is pink - if you can believe that. Or more unbelievable is the fact that I was receptive to having a pink computer. There are three good reasons for me graciously accepting a pink computer. First, it is pink because Dell made a contribution to breast cancer for every pink computer it sold. That in itself is reason enough. I would drive a pink car, live in a pink house and wear pink clothes if it would help the fight against breast cancer. The second good reason is that it was a gift from my wonderful son who has been a very giving and generous person his whole life and who has been with me every step of the way in my little battle with cancer and with other battles I have had. Third, I used to think I was too macho to do anything like use a pink computer. Now that I'm old I realize there is nothing macho about me - and there really never was - I just didn't realize it. So, "Thanks once again Scott and Sheri - you are very special people!"

Along with this new pink computer came a new keyboard and a whole new display on the screen and everything is in a different place and there are different symbols on the screen and the keyboard does things I am not used to and won't do the things I am used to. So, even with this new wonderful computer - we still have the old operator with all the old broken elements that don't compute with the computer. I am so old that I am actually afraid of the computer. I sit here and stare at it in disbelief and am afraid I am going to hit the wrong key or say the wrong thing and it will self destruct. In fact, because it is pink, I was afraid at first that my correspondence would have ruffles and lace around the borders. The long and the short of the whole thing is that I have a new computer but Scott still gets calls from me with; "How's it going?, How was your day?, How's the dog? Oh, by the way - how to you make this computer find the letter I typed yesterday?" In fact I try to casually get my wife to call Scott and then; "Oh by the way - while you are talking to Scott, why don't you ask him how to - - - - .

Okay a little update on health issues. Went in to Presbyterian today and had another doppler exam on my legs to check out my blood clots and aneurysms. Got a good report and it appears they are no worse and are probably a little better than they were last time. They were pleased, and if they are pleased I will accept that as something positive. In addition to this good news, I went to my own doctor and had a blood test last week and - according to him - I no longer have any indication of diabetes. I mentioned that I had been told that once you have diabetes you will always have diabetes. He said that my blood tests indicated that in the past I definitely had diabetes but the current blood tests show that I no longer have it. I guess that is probably because of the good clean living I engage in! Then my cardiologist told me that my cholesterol was perfect - this, after having had a problem with cholesterol for at least the past twenty years. I really think the main reason for the vast improvement in both areas is related to the weight loss I had after the cancer surgery. I lost one hundred pounds after surgery. That was not a bad thing as I was way over-weight before. I have gained about twenty five to thirty pounds back and need to keep it where it is from now on. The cancer surgery was tough but the only other option I had to get rid of a hundred pounds of ugly fat was to cut my head off and even the cancer surgery is a better option for me.

I still have a couple more exams and check-ups to go through in the upcoming days and months but I have gotten pretty well used to it. Any more I know what to expect, and even though I don't enjoy the routine it is something I can easily tolerate. If I had been more astute about regular check-ups and doing the things I should do in the past, I might have been able to avoid some of the problems I have had. But, back then I was Mr. Macho!

My Cardiologist pretty much set me straight on the "Macho" business. About fifty years ago, on a dare, I got a tattoo way up on my right arm. It is an eagle surrounded by a wreath of flame - The Flaming Eagle. It was nothing distasteful - it was a symbol of "Machoism" in my earlier years. My Cardiologist is a woman doctor, and a very good doctor whom I really appreciate. During my examination I was down to my underwear and she looked over and said; "Oh, do you have a fondness for humming birds?" At first I couldn't figure out what she was talking about, then I realized that she was calling my eagle a humming bird. You talk about deflation! I thought I was going to start crying - she called my eagle a humming bird! Of course, that eagle has been hanging around on my arm for around fifty years and I don't even think about it any more. I have given it about the same attention that I have given my own health. He automatically gets washed when I take a shower, but I never comb his hair or trim his feathers or spruce him up. And, I have lost a lot of weight and some of that has been in my arms, so I guess it makes sense. I'm just glad she didn't ask why I had a dead sparrow on my arm.

Anyhow, all is okay - in fact it is great. I am very lucky and very grateful for everything that has happened over the past couple of years. When I was in Houston last month, my cancer surgeon said they had recently discovered that if you survive pancreatic cancer for two years, the mortality rate drops way down. They don't know why, but their research proves this is true. My two years is up at the end of this month!!!

God Bless all of you - have a wonderful Thanksgiving and very Merry Christmas!!

AL

Back from latest trip to MD Anderson

[again posted for my father while he works out the Windows Vista interface... -- Scott]

I will get this blog problem I am having solved soon, in the meantime a brief update.

It is kind of funny in one way, but I have spent the first part of this week in Houston and I really haven't done that much physically, but I am worn out. I think just the trip, sitting around the various offices and clinics and waiting - waiting and waiting takes it toll. The exams were not that difficult or painful, but still the whole process is not fun. Also, I think there is an element of worry and anticipation as you wait to find out what the results of all the tests are.

In any event, I have some very good news. I have had a number of people in the medical profession tell me that the mortality rate for pancreatic cancer is about 75%. Obviously, the mortality rate for all of us is 100% - we are all going to go some time, but when people in the medical profession learn that I have had pancreatic cancer their eyes get big and they saying like; "No kidding - and you are still here - wow." or something to that affect. Those comments have had a bothersome affect on me for sure, but there isn't too much I can do but keep on going.

I learned this week for the first time that two years is a magic number. If you make it for two years your chances of it coming back drop significantly. My two years is up!! The tests show no new tumors and everything is looking good.
I do have an aortic aneurysm and it has increased in size from 3.5 cm six months ago to 3.9 cm. A reading of 5 cm is considered dangerous so I am still okay, but I guess I will start visiting my cardiologist now to see if I can reverse this number.

I recall when I first went down to MD Anderson I asked if smoking caused pancreatic cancer and was told that smoking does cause cancer but it had nothing to do with the cancer I had. Now they are telling me that smoking is one of the major causes of pancreatic cancer. I don't smoke any more but I did for years and I know I was offended or put off when people told me I shouldn't smoke. My attitude today is that if you know someone who smokes or someone you love smokes, do whatever you can to get them to quit. I know from experience when you start preaching to someone about something the tendency is for them to resist even more. I don't know how you can get someone to listen because I never listened - but do what you can to help them quit. It can be done - I know, but better if done earlier than later.

We were a little nervous as Hurricane Rick was supposed to be creating a problem in Houston Wednesday night, but it was downgraded to a tropical storm and never really did anything bad. In the meantime, I guess Albuquerque had heavy rain for two days straight while we were gone.

Anyway - all is good! Now that I have quit smoking and have reached the two year mark I guess that all I have to do is start drinking purified water, sucking purified air and not eat anything and I will be okay. I'm off the smokes for good but will have to work hard to develop the kind of diet I am supposed to follow. But I will try hard and won't be as stubborn as I was about smoking for sure.

God Bless and thanks for your friendship and prayers!!

AL

Another trip to Houston

(posted for my Father who was having problems logging into the blog and used email instead. He arrived at the hotel in Houston tonight -- Scott)

Too much has been going on and my small brain has not be able to cope with all of it. I had some computer problems and now have a new computer and the Blog Program I have been using changed something and I can't access it now. I am sure it is a simple matter of me making a call and following instructions - but that is too much for me. I am mad at them for changing something and then forcing me to talk to a computerized menu of instructions to get it all worked out, so I will just pout for awhile until I get in the mood to do what needs to be done. I have also been very busy with work and don't get a chance to do too much, or am too tired to do it, when I get home late at night.

I am going back down to Houston tomorrow for another check-up and hopefully everything will be okay. I am still wearing my elastic belt (girdle) every day. I guess it will be part of me for the rest of my life. I still have pain in my abdomen pretty much all the time and I guess that is just from all the cutting and sewing. But I am okay with it - I am so used to it I would probably miss it if it wasn't there. I have had some concern lately about the surgery I had in April. As you may know, they had to replace the lining in my stomach because of the damage that was done by the radiation I went through. They use a fairly new process where they relined my stomach with pig skin. Now I am concerned that I might be stricken with the swine flu. If it's not one thing it's another!

Since my last Blog entry - I have had another hernia surgery here in Albuquerque and several visits to the dentist. I didn't think anything would ever be more painful and difficult than the cancer surgery. I had forgotten about the dentist. I hate to go to the dentist! Dentists were invented to take the place of executioners and others who practiced various forms of torture in days past. I only took two days off during the month of September and one of those days was spent with the dentist. I had a tooth broken off at the gum which they cut out in little bitty pieces and then they pulled three others and created a partial plate to fill that gap in the front of my face. I would sign a contract to work every single day for the rest of my life if there was some form of guarantee that I would never have to go to the dentist again if I did this.

*A little side story related to my dental problems. Years ago when I had an insurance brokerage agency, I got a call from someone who wanted some insurance. I met with this person - whom I had never met before, and discovered he was a football coach at the University of New Mexico. I had seen his picture in the paper and seen him a couple of times on T.V., but I did not know him. In the process of completing the paper work I asked where he was born. He replied that he was born in Gunnison, Colorado. I mumbled something to the affect that I had fond memories of Gunnison, Colorado. He stared at me and asked why I had said that. I went on to tell him that the first football game I ever played in, some guy from Gunnison kicked me right in the mouth during a kickoff. He stared at me for a moment and asked me when this had happened. I gave him an approximate date and he responded; "That wasn't in the third quarter by any chance was it?" I thought for a moment and said; "Yes, as a matter of fact I think it was!" He then said; "I always did feel bad about that - I didn't mean to kick you in the face!"

This was in the days before we wore face masks - in fact I think I was the first person in our school who had a face mask. And - this was the beginning of a problem I have had with my front teeth for the rest of my life - up until now. As of now I don't have the problem any more as I don't have the teeth any more.

Like they say; "no matter where you go - there you are." It is amazing how often you will meet someone who is a total stranger and then learn they are someone you know or someone who knows someone else you know.

The upcoming trip to Houston should be pretty easy, at least compared to some of the others. MD Anderson is very systematized and they have a routine which never seems to change. The first day will be blood tests and other evaluations and then the CT-Scan. The CT-Scan is a real pain in the butt in more ways than one. You can't eat before you go in, then you have to report at noon to be checked in, then you have to drink two bottles of this horrible stuff which temporarily makes you swear you will never put another thing in your mouth. You are in a large room with probably fifty to seventy five people who are waiting for the same ritual of torture. As you look around they all look like grumpy, tired and hungry refugees from some kind of concentration camp - just like you do. They are not dressed up in their finest - for sure. They are, like you, staring at the big board with all the names listed in hope that their name will suddenly appear and they can get this ordeal over with. And, because you are in a hospital environment where they are always concerned with germs and the spread of germs - the temperature is not cool - it is absolutely cold. So, you sit there shivering, sipping on the asbestos tasting drink, staring at the walls, occasionally glancing through a six month old magazine for the umpteenth time - waiting your turn. Finally they call your name and you go back to this little dressing room where you remove everything but your socks and put on this flimsy one-size-fits-all gown. It only has one string - the string on the other side is missing, and you are supposed to reach behind your back and tie the gown shut and there is nothing to tie it to anyway. I have a hard enough time tying my shoes and they are right in front of my face. There is no way I will ever be able to tie something behind my back. At this point they show some real compassion - they bring you a heated blanket. Now you sit in this tiny cubical and wait, and then wait, and then wait some more. You are tired of waiting, the blanket is no longer warm, you are freezing, and now all of a sudden you need to go to the bathroom. It is just like magic - as soon as you build up the courage to try to sneak out of the little cubical and slip down the hall to find the bathroom, an attendent comes in to take you into the room where the big machine is. The CT Scan itself only last about fifteen minutes, but you have now been there for five hours waiting for this event to take place. After the scan you have to go to a nurse station where they do some monitoring and pull the needles out and put the band aids on and you are worn out.

The way the system works is you have all these tests and examinations on one day - Monday in this case. Then you have to hang around Houston on Tuesday and then come back in on Wednesday for consultation with the surgeon, the plastic surgeon and any other specialists. If you have an appointment first thing in the morning with the doctor, chances are he is already behind schedule. We have waited until noon when we had a 9:00AM appointment. But that is okay - if it sounds like I am complaining, I am not. I am absolutely grateful for everything the people at MD Anderson have done. They have a system that sometimes tests your endurance, but it works and it is the best in the world, in my opinion. In Houston there is always something interesting to see and do. The day off in-between gives you a chance to kind of refresh and relax. I understand that Houston has a good China Town and I think we will check this out on this trip and get some good Chinese food.

Sorry for the long email. If my system was working it would be a long Blog entry instead!!

AL

A STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE - BALONEY!

One more time! Yesterday I went in to let them cut on me again. I've been sewn up so many times that Mary is starting to use me as a source of thread for her sewing projects. As I think I mentioned before, I am just going to have them install a zipper so they won't have to cut into me each time.

Actually, I'm a pretty nice guy - sometimes, and I feel sorry for these doctors. They spend years and lots of money getting their degrees which enable them to cut on people. And, after all the sacrifices they make, they spend the rest of their lives just practicing. Every doctor you know "practices" medicine. Football players and baseball players practice a little bit each year and then they get to go out and play in front of a crowd of cheering fans and they make big bucks for this. The poor doctor just goes on year after year practicing in some little room with a single person audience (me on the table) and a few on lookers. I just feel sorry for these guys so every opportunity I get I give them a chance to practice a little more.

As you may remember, I had the big operation in Houston in April where they cut me open from the chest down to my belt buckle to remove four hernias and do some scraping and cutting of other things they found down there - including the doctor's wrist watch he had left in there by accident during the first operation. I'll be darned if I didn't get home and after awhile I developed a whole new very painful situation which turned out to be another hernia. This is one where the intestine drops down through a hole into the groin area - and boy does that hurt. This problem is insignificant compared to the cancer surgery and the other hernias, but it has been the most painful of all.

It took me about a month to be able to get in to see the doctor and once I did he was ready to operate right away. I saw him last Thursday and he operated yesterday - Monday. He assured me that the incision would be small - about the size of a credit card. It made me feel good it would be a small incision but then when I thought about it, maybe he was suggesting that the surgery would be dependent upon the size of what my credit card could pay for. That caused me new worry as I realized that it would indeed be a very small incision - maybe the size of a pin hole - if it was dependent upon what the credit card could support.

After all the pain and suffering these people (doctors, wife and son) have put me through, they treat me like a child. They wouldn't let me drive to the hospital by myself. I can drive better when I am disabled than some of my substitute drivers can drive when they are at the top of their physical form. Anyway, I had to let my wife drive me and when we got there we were the first people for the day. I checked in at the appropriate cubical and was instructed to go sit in the waiting room and wait for the nurse to come and fetch me. There was no one else in the waiting room but me and my wife and pretty soon this lady came walking through with a folder in her hand yelling for "Alberto". She wandered around for a bit and left and returned twice more with the same announcement. Finally I said; "I'm Albert and I don't think there is anyone else here." She said; "I have been looking for you - I came in here calling for you, why didn't you answer?" I said; "My name is Albert." She said; "It's Alberto in Spanish" Maybe I should have gone to Houston for this operation after all. Or, mayber I forgot to push #1 indicating I wanted to speak English.

At MD Anderson in Houston, you talk to a nurse or some kind of aide and they ask about your medications and from that point on every person you talk to has it right on the computer screen. Here I talked to several different nurses and each time I had to go through the list of my medications for each one. I am sure that none of the lists were the same - I don't remember all that stuff. One lady wanted to know about my prior operations and I told her about the cancer surgery and the hernia operation in Houston. She got this surprised look on her face and said; "You never had your tonsils out?" Well - yes I did when I was about five years old. She wanted to know each and every operation I have ever had. This covers a big part of a century - I tried hard to think of everything and she kept pressing me for complete and accurate answers. I had surgery on my knee about thirty five years ago. "Which knee?" I don't know - it was either my right knee or my left knee. You would think I was going to have open heart surgery.

Mary dropped me off and stayed with me until she had to go to work - someone has to supplement that credit card. Then she came back on her lunch hour just as the took me to the recovery room. Scott and Sheri brought me home and Scott was real careful going over the speed bumps - thank God. We dropped off the prescription for my pain medicine and they brought me home and said they would pick up the medicine in about an hour and come back.

On their way back they called and asked if I would like to have them bring me a malt. That kind of turned me off and I asked them to stop and get me a green chili cheeseburger instead. That sounded nourishing to me. Just before they got back I had to rush back to the bathroom and regurgitated anything and everything I have eaten for the past six months, so when they came in with the green chile cheeseburger I asked if they had ever eaten one before and told them they were going to get to eat one now.

I messed up a bit last night and by accident took a double dose of pain pills and didn't realize it until this morning. I sure did sleep good last night and most of the morning. I also got a mighty scolding from my parole officer. It was an honest accident, but in retrospect I am sure glad I did it - by accident of course.

All in all - I know I am still a very lucky person. Everything is okay. In between these little episodes I have sold a few cars and that is fun for me. I have some more people at work that look after me and take care of me. They kind of fill in for Mary and Scott. I seem to always have someone who is supervising my behavior. Everyone is very generous and the customers are all nice and life is just a lot of fun.

Hopefully this is the last "cutting episode" for awhile. But, if I didn't have health issues to talk about I would have to talk about something like politics - and that would be more sickening than any operation.

God Bless!!

AL

POST - HOUSTON

Just a note to bring everyone up to date since Houston. Compared to the cancer surgery in late 2007, this wasn't too bad but it still knocks you down a bit. I believe I was off work approximately six months after my cancer surgery and it has only been two months since this last surgery and I have been working again the last four or five weeks. The first month I had a pretty constant awareness of the surgery as it hurt almost every time I moved. Just as things were starting to get a little better I developed another very sharp pain in my lower abdomen that pretty much made it impossible to work or do anything. I finally got to a doctor and I guess I have another - new - hernia (at least one) in my lower abdomen and groin. If you've ever had a really bad tooth ache and you just can't get away from the pain and you think you're going to go crazy if you don't - that is what this is like.

I guess the radiation I had in Houston, and maybe the chemo, pretty well destroyed a lot of the tissue that holds everything together. Whenever I take something out of the microwave and see how the solid matter has been changed into a bubbling, gurgling liquified mass, I think that this must be me after radiation. However, I'm not complaining! I guess any other course of action - or maybe a course of inaction, and I wouldn't be here to complain. I'll just hang around and complain for as long as I can.

When I finally hurt so bad I decided I would go to a doctor, I discovered my primary care doctor was on vacation. So, I was scheduled with a substitue doctor I had never met before. This doctor was a female doctor - which I wasn't prepared for. I am, after all, still an old fashioned male chauvinest. Under normal circumstances I would have left, but I was hurting so bad I stuck around. I was reluctant to have any doctor exam my lower abdominal area and groin - let alone a female doctor, but I was hurting so bad I didn't really care at the moment. She said I definately had a pretty bad hernia and maybe more than one.

I really didn't want to go back to Houston again for another surgery because of the expense of just going down and staying there, plus the time involved. I had several conversations with the surgeon's office in Houston and they agreed it would be alright for me to have this surgery in Albuqueruqe. After all, they wouldn't be replacing the lining in my entire abdomen as the did in Houston - at least I hope not.

The hernia or hernias I now have are no major thing. A lot of people have hernias like this and it is no big deal. However, regardless of how bad it is, the pain was driving me crazy - in fact I almost went to the emergeny room one night before I saw this doctor. The doctor who examined me referred me to a surgeon who is supposed to be very good and I went upstairs to make an appointment and learned he is booked up for almost a month. I am scheduled to see him on June 25th. This is just for an appointment to see him. The surgery will be sometime after that. The doctor did get me a very uncomfortable belt to wrap around me to reduce the pain and that helps some. Now I have a body wrap from my chest down to my hips from the first surgery and I have this other belt to strap on. I feel like I am wearing a suit of armor. If I happen to catch a stray bullet I know it will just bounce off. I can barely bend over to pick anything up if I drop it.

I have had a lot of luck and many blessings, and one of the blessings I have had is the fact that I work at CarMax. I know they have been listed as one of the top 100 companies in the nation to work for by Forbes Magazine for five years in a row. While that sounds nice, and it really is nice, it never had the impact on me that I guess it should. But now I know. They allow me to come in when I feel like it. I am not even on the schedule. I can't really do anything physically (my wife and son keep reminding me that I am not supposed to lift anything over five pounds), and it is painful for me to get into and out of cars - so I really can't demonstrate a car to anyone, so they have me just sitting in an office answering the phone and emails. They have a great web site which shows every car we have in the country - between 20,000 and 25,000 cars, and people look at this web site and see a car they want that is in Nashville, Baltimore, Orlando, Las Vegas - or anywhere else, and they call or email us and we transfer the car in for them. I do all of that and then hand the customer off to someone else and they take care of actually demonstrating the car and selling it when it comes in. I get half the sale for that and the other sales associate gets half. The only problem with this arrangement is that we have a lot of half cars running around Albuquerque. I try to always get the front half because in New Mexico you don't need a license plate on the front end of the car - just on the back end. It is kind of funny seeing a half a car driving down the freeway though. The poor guy with just the back half doesn't even have an engine to propell his car - but he has lots of luggage space. The strange thing about this arrangement, you would think the other employees would be resentful because I am getting some kind of special treatment. They all go out of their way to do anything they can to help me. None of them have objected in any way. I do make a little money, but I work there because it is a really neat place to work. It's like another family.

To add to my current discomfort, I got up the other morning and opened up some of my mail. There was a bill from my insurance company stating that the cost of this little procedure in Houston was $23,706. The surgery only lasted four hours! But I guess they did put me up in the hospital for a few days, gave me a CT Scan, some medicine and pain medication - and I almost forgot - this wonder elastic thing I have to wear around my body every day. In addition to that, our out of pocket cost - just for going down and staying through the whole thing was close to $5,000. But the part of the bill that got my attention was the last column that said my part of the bill was going to be$11,303. My coffee wasn't black enough to get me through that little shock. I called the health care plan and got a very nice lady - but she did not speak English very well - and I was concerned that she wouldn't even understand what I was talking about. I surely didn't understand much of what she said. But, she did act interested and kept excusing herself to go look at my records and finally excused herself to go speak to her supervisor. Finally she got back on the phone and said; "No - No, you no have to pay that much. You pay two hundred fifty dollar - you okay." I asked if she was sure and she assured me she was - so we will see.

We had a nice visit from our oldest son, John Leslie from Dallas and he wife Leslea and two of their six children, Emily and Andrew, this past week. He came back to Albuquerque for his 30th class reunion - I think. This is the first reunion he has attended and I don't think either of our other sons have ever gone to a high school reunion. I guess when you have seven or eight hundred people in your graduating class it doesn't mean as much as it does when you have 33. And, I guess, I have only been to three reunions myself. One for every eleven people in my class. Anyway they all had a good time and we enjoyed them and Scott and Sheri who came up to visit with them. For some reason, when JL comes over here - which isn't often, he loves to go out and work in the yard. He and his mother and Andrew spent two solid days really shaping up the yard - cutting bushes I didn't want cut down, trimming shrubs more than I liked, and otherwise just taking control of the whole yard. Seriously - they did a fantastic job and I really do appreciate it. Mary enjoys working in the yard but she has had to do everything by herself since my surgery. I am not even allowed to push the power mower. I really do feel guilty watching her work very hard out in the yard while I sit in a chair on the patio.

Hope to get back to normal soon, but in the meantime I appreciate how lucky I am and am just thankful that everything has turned out as well as it has so far. We will be in touch soon.

ALBUQUERQUE AL

NO MORE HOUSTON - I HOPE!

THIS ONE IS A LITTLE LONG - I APOLOGIZE! BUT - IT WILL PROBABLY BE MY LAST ONE - AT LEAST ON THIS ONE SUBJECT.

My immediate question to myself is; "Why I am sitting here doing a Blog Entry when I have been off work for two weeks or more?" "Don't I have more productive things I could be doing?"

More productive - yes, more fun - no! There are a lot more productive things I could be doing if I could only do them, but there aren't too many things I can actually do right now. First, almost any movement I make hurts - not a whole bunch most of the time, but it just flat out hurts to move at all. You know that someone has been tinkering with your body.
Secondly, the good doctor did put the fear of God into me this time about taking care of myself and following the rules - which means not doing much physically for awhile and in some cases forever.

He has restricted me to lifting nothing more than 5 pounds (I was sure he said 8 pounds, but my daughter-in-law and son were right there and they swear he said 5.) Of course, they are not always to be trusted when it comes to a difference in opinion between me and either of them on the subject of what the doctor said. Any way you look at it, 5 pounds is not much weight; maybe a blank sheet of paper, a pen, my name badge (good thing I have a short name), my proxy key and a light lunch. On the other hand - 5 pounds could allow 20 "Quarter Pounder" hamburgers - okay, cut that number in half because we need to allow for the weight of the french fries, lettuce and a pickle slice. Still you would at least have 10 Quarter Pounders - that's something to look forward to each day.

The real reason, and the big reason, I am spending my time doing this blog is I enjoy doing it. For me it is fun, it is therapeutic and it has been a very positive tool for me in coping with this little problem of cancer. I have heard from many others who have felt it has been a positive tool for them or people they have passed it on to, so I do get some sense of satisfaction from the thought that this jumbled mess of words with all sorts of grammatical and punctuation and spelling errors will possibly help put a smile on someone's face. It is also remotely possible that I might even provide some information once in awhile that will be useful.

My last Blog Entry under the banner of "Hurry Up and Wait" was a little pre-mature. The real demonstration of "Hurry Up and Wait" was to take place a few days later - when I actually started to leave for Houston.

I was frustrated about everything that was going to happen that day, April 23rd, before it even happened. I have this personality defect (one of many which I have) which causes me to become anxious and nervous and all worked up over anticipating a problem that hasn't even occured - but could possibly occur. Today when everyone complains about having to be at the airport an hour and a half before flight time - don't worry about me. I have already been there for two or three hours. I worry about; "What if I have a flat tire on the way to the airport, have a wreck, run out of gas, can't find a parking space, get a speeding ticket, etc." I have all of these "What If" conditions tied to every activity I am involved with all day long.

This particular Monday the 23rd I was destined for an overload of frustration. The night before I had been up late packing for this trip. At this point I didn't know how long I would be gone, what I would be able to do, how long I would actually be in the hospital - so what do I take? Just in case, I took enough "stuff" to open a small clothing store, a library, a convenience store and first aid station. I also took a half dozen folders on different projects I was working on, including income tax, just so I would be sure to have something to do. Needless to say, I never touched these folders. So, on this Monday morning - after being up most of the night deciding what to take - I got up at 4:00 am - I am sure I got at least one hour of sleep that night to start loading the car.

This Monday morning it was cold, damp and dark as I started dragging everything out to the car. (I even bought a brand new suitcase for this trip. It is basically a small bedroom on wheels) I drug that oversized suitcase all the way through the house out to the garage and opened the garage door (where my wife's car sits all snug and warm and dry and taking up so much space I can hardly get past it with my suitcase) and opened the big garage door to the driveway to a blast of cold air that made me want to go back and crawl back into bed.

After stumbling over a garden hose someone left in the driveway and tripping over a few cracks in the concrete driveway, I am ready to reach into my pocket, get the keys to the car, unlock the door and load my suitcases.

I stick my hand deep into my pocket and search around until I locate my key ring which contains approximately forty keys. I think I can still remember what maybe five or six of these keys are for. The other thirty-five or so keys - I can't remember for sure. I think there is one key that might have been a key to my first apartment when I was a young bachelor. Gosh - that was a long time ago. There is one that looks like it could have been a key to my office - maybe that was from a time I got promoted and got a bigger office, or moved to a different office building or maybe to a different company - who knows. It could be 20 years and 10 states away from today for all I know. Then I do have this one beautiful key that is blue and orange - my Denver Bronco Key. It is supposed to open the front door to the house but it doesn't. It doesn't do anything but look good - a Bronco tradition. The guy who made that key for my wife hated the Broncos and was an admitted Cowboy fan and probably sabotaged that key so it wouldn't work. I like it - so I keep it
anyway.

I have gone through this routine many, many times and keep promising myself that I am going to figure out what all of these keys are for and get rid of those that have no purpose. I am not sure how I will do that - go around to all the apartments I might have lived in as a young bachelor and try the key on the doors, or go back to all of the office building I might have had an office in and check out the keys. But I know for sure - if I get rid of just one key - within a week I will discover what that key was for and I will desperately need that key (probably a key to a fortune) and it will be impossible for me to replace that key. So for now, I will just play it safe.

The problem is that with this system, this time of discovery always happens under the same circumstances. I pull out this handfull of keys when my hands are full, it is dark, it is raining, my cell phone is ringing, etc. So I kind of stumble around in my pocket with my fingers feeling each key to see, if by the feel, I can discover the key I actually need.

This system usually causes the keys to slip through my fingers onto the pavement, sometimes wet pavement, as I bend over to pick up the now slimy or wet keys and start the process all over again. And it always happens that I will eventually find the right key, guide the key to the lock on the door holding it between my thumb and little finger and go to insert it into the lock - when I drop it one more time just for good mesure. Kind of a punctuation mark to the whole process. Of course this creates a mild explosion of profanity, which is either amusing or frightening to someone who might be out walking their dog at three in the morning.

Now you can understand why I am so uptight when I need to meet a schedule of any kind. All of these unforeseen obstacles which attach themselves to me to test my skills and strength of character really do delay me.

Okay, I now have the car open and have wrestled my suitcases inside the car (no wonder I had four hernias that had to be repaired) I am all ready to roll now and - Oh Wait!! - Crap!
I am standing here in the middle of the driveway with the garage door open and the garage door opener in my hand. Now if I hit the little button, the garage door will close and I will still be on the outside with the garage door opener in my hand. The garage door opener needs to be back inside the house on the kitchen table. (Don't ask me why - I don't write the rules - I just obey them.) So I go back into the house and place the garage door opener on the kitchen table and now I am inside the house with the garage door opener but the garage door is shut again. I am getting nowhere fast!

I have six outside doors to my house and because of little challenges at each of these doors, like a heavy swing set in front of one door, a lawn mower in front of another, total darness outside another, etc., none of these doors are potential choices.

But a solution has just exploded in my mind. I will close the garage door with the garage door opener, I will place the garage door opener on the kitchen table - as I have been instructed to do, I will go to the front door - where I know the lock is difficult to work with and the motion detector light is burned out (someone keeps forgetting to replace it) and make my exit.

I drop the set of keys two more times and finally I get the inside house door locked. I insert the key into the outside glass door and it will not turn either left or right. I struggle and twist and curse and finally it turns to the left. Now it won't turn back. It has my key - the door is in the locked position and it won't give my key back. Finally I force it back into the unlocked position - afraid that I am going to snap the key off right in the lock - and I am now able to extract my key, but it is getting late and I need to get to the airport. I unlock the inside door one more time and go in and write a note so that when my wife wakes up she will know the outside glass door is not locked. I write the note and go back out to tape it to the door when it hits me - it might not be a good idea to tape a note to the front door stating that it is not locked. The inside front will lock after all, so I decided to leave the outside door unlocked and will wait until I get to the airport and call Scott ahd have him call his mother and give her the news. I was not about to call her at 4:00 in the morning to tell her that I had gone off and left her asleep with the front door unlocked.

So here it is - it seems that half the morning has been spent - and I am still in my driveway. I still have to get out of my driveway, drive to the airport, drag my baggage inside, check in, go through security, go stand by a post with a number on it and eventually get on the plane. Still plenty of opportunities for something to happen and totally screw up my day.

I haven't even gotten to the part that has me the most upset. The schedule I have received from MD Anderson has me on a non-stop program for today that is so tight that I will - at some point - need to make a decision on whether to spend a few minutes to go to the bathroom or to blow my nose. I will just have to wait and see which becomes urgent first.

By the time I got to the airport, I ws too uptight to even think about eating anything - which under current circumstances would have probably made me sick - so I didn't eat. I got to Houston and had just enough time to get from the airport to the hotel and check in and go across the sky-bridge to the Main building of MD Anderson and check in for blood/specimen collection. Actually I was lucky and made up a little time (good cab driver) and was able to check in for Blood/Specimen an hour early. It was a good thing as there were more than hundred people in line and they were running an hour behind schedule - but at least I didn't lose too much ground. I was scheduled to do check in/prep for CT Scan at 3:40 pm - which gave me approximately an hour to eat for the first time for the day. There was no way I was going to eat before going in for the CT Scan, so I went on up and got ready for this procedure. In the meantime, Scott and Sheri arrived from Albuquerque and were there when I finally got through with the CT Scan around 7:30 PM. It had been a very long day and I still hadn't eaten all day, but after the CT Scan I am never hungry anyway. Scott and Sheri talked me into going down to Rice Village next to Rice University for something to eat and I ate something - can't even remember what it was.

That was one of the longest Mondays in my life - I think it was about 48 hours long and I was totally wiped out at the end of the day.

Tuesday we had an off day and Scott and Sheri had never been to Galveston Island, so we went down there for the day. It is a neat place with a beach and sand and sea shells and they had a good time collecting sea shells. Then we went to the "Spot" a restaurant and bar right across the street from the Sea Wall. This place never closed during the hurricane and it is right across the street from the ocean. Buildings fifteen, twenty and forty miles and more away from the Sea Wall were destroyed, but the Spot stayed open the entire time. They have a video camera on the patio so we ate out there and Scott and Sheri called their friends back home and had them pull up the web site and waved to them as they ate their lunch.

We went to the Aquarium which has to be one of the very best in the Nation. It is worth going to Galveston just to see this aquarium. You walk in and see an army of penguins - must be at least fifty of them -swimming in this glass pool that is three stories tall, some of them are just walking around, some shooting through the water - boy they can really propell through the water at a high speed and others are just standing around.

You walk down a pathway that is circular and winds up or down and you have tanks of all types of beautiful fish on both sides and then over the top of you swimming back and forth. The have a great collection of sharks swimming around, some great looking sea turtles and even new born sea horses.

We went down town to an area called the Strand. It is an old historic area with old buildings that go back several hundred years. This was the original downtown area of Galveston. This is a well known shopping and tourist area with all kinds of neat shops. When Mary I are were down there the last part of the year the place was bustling with all kinds of activity and lots of tourists. This time only two or three shops were even open. The rest will filled with carpenters building walls, ceilings, floors and getting ready to try to go back into business. The whole area was just gutted during the hurricane. The sidwalk in this area is a good two feet above street level, and with me standing on the sidewalk, the water mark during the hurricane ws a good two to three feet above my head. That means the whole area was under ten to twelve feet of water. Imagine downtown Albuquerque, Denver, Santa Fe, or any other city being under 12 feet of water for as far as you can see.

I didn't get a chance to eat all day Monday until late at night after the CT Scan, so Scott and Sheri made up for it on Tuesday. We started out with a big breakfast buffet at the hotel, two hours later we were having lunch at the "Spot" in Galveston and now one last stop before we leave Galveston. Galveston has a Rain Forest Cafe and Scott and Sheri are fans of this restaurant and make sure to visit this restaurant in each area they travel to if one is there. (They do the same thing with the Hard Rock Cafe) So roughly two hours after our first lunch we stopped at the Rain Forest Cafe and had another lunch. This time I just couldn't force myself to eat. I ordered and took about one bite.

Wednesday we were back to the regular routine. We had an appointment with the Cancer Surgeon at 10:00 AM and they were hopelessly behind schedule. Next we had to go through the patient check in for the surgery and anestehsia assessment. We then dashed over to Mays Clinic for an appointment with the Plastic Surgeon which was scheduled at 2:30PM and we finally got in to see him at 5:00PM.

Scott threw me a curve while we were visiting with Dr. Baumann, the Plastic Surgeon. Scott is normally very sophisticated and intellectual during the conversations with the doctors, and when Dr. Baumann finished going through everything - what was going to happen, why they would do the things they were going to do, the recovery process, etc., he asked if there were any questions. Scott immediately asked; "After the surgery, will my dad be able to play the piano?" Dr. Baumann had this puzzled look on his face and replied; "Of course - he will be able to play the piano - shouldn't be any problem at all." Scott said; "That's great - because he can't play the piano now." Unfortunately, it looks like one of my many undesirable personality characteristics did in fact slip through to my son, Scott. Anyway, when it is all said and done, I guess I will go buy a piano and start taking lessons.

Thursday we just puttered around and went downtown Houston to the Hard Rock Cafe and just killed time. I had talked to Mary several times during the week and she was really sick. It seemed there was no way she was going to be able to even come over, but she did come in Thursday night and after a real tough week at home was set to get up early the next day for the surgery.

I guess things happen for a reason, but all of the frustration I had just trying to end work and get ready to go to Houston, all of the tight schedules we had with appointments for the week and all the other little surprises kept me so distracted that I didn't have much of a chance to think about the surgery - much less worry about it. That was good.

As they did the last time, they scheduled me for surgery at 5:00 am Friday morning. And as happened last time, because it was still dark when we went in for the surgery, I had the feeling that the surgery had started at night. So shortly after 5:00 am Friday morning I have an empty space in my mind of what happened for the next 24 to 48 hours. Scott said he spent the first two nights with me, but I have no recollection of that. This surgery was in the same section of the hospital as my last surgery and other than being on a different floor, everything was pretty much the same.

The first thing I remember was sitting there (I must have been sitting up in bed) staring at a huge clock on the wall. The big hand ws pointed at 12 and the litle hand was pointed at 1. This meant it was one o'clock. (I learned that in 7th grade and still remember it) There was a door to my left and it ws slightly open and I could see some people - like nurses and administrative people moving around out there.

I remember yelling for someone to come in and saw a couple of people glance up and then go back to whatever they were doing. I started to become angry - and this not me or my personality. I started yelling loudly and started ordering someone to get in there. I guess I made sufficient fuss as pretty soon this tough unsmiling nurse came in and asked what my problem was.

I told her; " I was supposed to have surgery here. I had surgery here once before and it was a beautiful building and everything was very nice and now you have me down here in the basement in the supply room - what is going on?" "My family is supposed to be in to see me at one o"clock and they won't even be able to find me down here in the basement." She replied; "It is one o'clock in the morning. Your family has been here all night. You have already had your surgery - and you are not in the basement - now go to sleep." (I later found out that I was on something like the 14th floor and it was almost identical to the floor I had my last surgery on. Different circumstances - different perception.)

The next thing I remember was that my whole stomach area really hurt. My cancer doctor had cut me open and gone in to check on the previous operation and move a few pieces around a bit - and best of all find there was no sign of cancer. The Plastic Surgeon went in and cut away the excess flesh and remains of not one hernia but four hernias and tucked everything in neatly and sewed a patch over the entire stomach area. The four hernias are pretty much guaranteed to be from doing things I shouldn't have done - lifting heavy tailgates, third row seats and other acts of lifting. I have an elastic belt that goes over the entire stomach area that I have to wear 24 hours a day for the next six weeks and after that I can take it off only while sleeping.

I was then introduced to five drainage ports which were implanted into five holes in the bottom of my stomach area with clear plastic tubes which dangle down to about my ankles. Attached to each of the tubes are containers called grenades. They are also clear plastic and actually are about the size of a real grenade and they look like a grenade. This is the most awkward and inconvenient things I have ever had to deal with. First - it hurts like Hell every time you take a step or move as this grenade is sewed into the hole in the belly and it has weight and each and any movement causes it to swing back and forth and pull and tug at the sitiches and the hole. It is very awkward to just move or even get dressed. But they help the situation some by a holster that goes around your neck and the grenades now dangle about chest high instead of all the way down your leg. Still hurts, but not as bad. These grenades have to be cleaned and monitored each morning and each night as you measure the amount of fluid in each container until hopefully there is none.

After a few days, I had it down so I could wear this gear up around my shoulders and let them hang down over my chest and you couldn't tell I had anything hanging there. That is mostly because I am so skinny now I could have a watermelon in there and no one would notice.

I had to start walking as this is a requirement with all surgery. I started right away and pushed myself each day to do as much as I possibly could. They brought me a walker and I used it for a couple of days and then parked and made it on my own two legs from then on.

They discharged me from the hospital on the 23rd and Scott and Sheri came on back to Albuquerque the next day. Mary and I went back to The Rotary House, where she had been staying since she came down. We stayed there for the next 7 days until we had our final appointments with both surgeons on the 30th. We were in a very nice hotel which is connected to all the hospital facilities by sky-bridges, so there were plenty of different places to eat and plenty to see. It was a good place to kind of wind down.

On the 30th we had our final two appointments with the doctors, the Cancer doctor at 11:30 and the Plastic Surgeon at 1:00 PM. I had called and warned them that we had to catch a plane later in the day so we couldn't have any massive delays. They told me to come early for the first one and they would work me in. I got there at 10:30 am - an hour early and they were already two hours behind schedule. I did get in finally about noon, I did get in for just a shake of hands and a "Good-Bye", but that was all that was really necessary with the Cancer people. We got in right on schedule with the Plastic Surgeon and they examined everything and removed 3 of the 5 grenades and showed my wife how to remove the other two when we got home. (We removed the last one tonight, and in addition to being three to four feet long on the outside, there was around one foot of tube inside me.) After they removed the 3 in Houston, it was hardly noticeable that I had anything under my shirt. I wondered what would happen if the security guard asked; "What do you have under your shirt?" "Oh nothing - just a couple of grenades."

The last few nights in Houston they had flash flood warnings and tornadeo warnings in the area we were in and even told people to stay off I-45, the interstate to the airport. It is always bumper to bumper in good weather, so in bad weather it is not a place to be. So, while it is completely out of character for me - I made sure we were at the airport around three hours before flight time - just in case. Scott and Sheri met us at the airport in Albuquerque just to lift my suitcases and followed us home to get them in the house. They are really such a blessing - and now because of Scott ,I may become a famous piano player too.

I am pretty well wiped out - just a short trip out to CarMax for a few minutes really did me in for the next day. It is going to take awhile - but I will be back on my feet again. At least I know now that I am not Super Man and am going to have to change my ways a little.

God Bless and thanks for your support and prayers over the past couple of years.

AL

HURRY UP AND WAIT

While many of you know what has been going on in my life for the past couple of years, I have a few new friends (bet you didn't think I had any friends) who are not aware of this brief history. For that reason, I need to do a little instant replay of the past. I apologize - I don't mean to bore anyone with this little repeat. If you already know about this old stuff - it's okay if you want to just shut your eyes for a few minutes as you read through this stuff you already know. Whenever you get to a part you don't already know about - go ahead and open your eyes again. That is what I do when I read a book that is a little boring. I just shut my eyes as I read a part I don't like and open them again when I get to an exciting part.

In 2007 I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and ended up going to MD Anderson in Houston for treatment and eventually surgery. I spent the month of June and part of July going through radiation treatment and chemo therapy in Houston and was back and forth for examinations and treatment for most of the year. The year ended with surgery - the Whipple procedure - in late October 2007. This was a ten hour surgery where they basically remove everything from the stomach area and put it up on your chest or put it on a shelf or something. I don't know exactly how or what they do as I was not there for the ceremony - I was "out of it". They did tell me that they did cut and throw out a bunch of pieces from my stomach area and tossed them in the trash or something and glued or welded or used duct tape to put everything back together again so everything would work the way it was supposed to. I have always visualized them cutting me open and finding a cache of green chili cheeseburgers, French fries, tacos and other forms of my type of nourishment in the stomach. Whatever they did toss out ended up causing me to lose about 100 pounds. Warning! Don't try this at home!

During 2008 I made a number of trips to Houston for follow up examinations. In fact I have made so many flights on Soutwest Airlines I have been given a Frequent Bathroom pass for any of their flights. This allows me to use any restroom on a Southwest plane as long as it is not already in use. This demonstrates what a great bunch of people they are at Southwest Airlines. As you may know - and I now know, they are kind of well known for the little teeny-weeny bags of peanuts they give passengers on a flight. I remember I felt insulted the first time this SW girl came up and asked; "Do you wanna peanut?" I thought she was referring to me as the "Nut" and was asking me if I wanted to use the restroom.

All of these exams proved I am cancer free - I guess, but all this cutting caused me to develop a huge and painful hernia which covers almost all of my stomach area. My weight loss caused me to kind of look like I had just come out of a concentration camp - a bag of skin and bones. But I had, or I should say I still have, a large protrusion in my stomach area. Now I know how some of you girls feel in the eighth month!

Anyway, the end of the end was supposed to come late in 2008. They scheduled me to go down to Houston in October for preliminary exams, with surgery scheduled for late November. The surgery was to be for fixing this hernia and to go back in to check up on the repair job they did inside my stomach. Rumor has it the Doc is also looking for a few tools he hasn't been able to find since he did my Whipple surgery, so I have an idea he may be looking for those too. I did go down in October for the tests and was all prepared to go back in November for surgery. Unfortunately I have never done too good on tests. A few days after I got home, they called me and told me they had discovered a new aneurysm. (this makes three for me - shows how competitive I am. You got two? I'll see your two and raise you one!) They also found some new blood clots - so they decided to postpone the surgery scheduled for November.

This really messes me up when I have made plans and schedules to accomodate these trips and they change the schedule. For example, as a patient at MD Anderson, I can go down to the basement and get a free haircut. I try to time my need for a haircut around these trips and when they change the schedule it totally messes up my hairdo. Of course it messes me up with other little things like my job, time off, taking out the trash at home, etc. It is very stressful.

They rescheduled me to come back in early 2009 for some more tests and I guess i passed this time, so they invited me to come back for surgery the first part of March. Now I am supposed to have two different surgeons working on me. (I remember when being a two car family was a sign of affluence. I am stating a new trend by being a two surgeon guy.) Anyway, my cancer Doc is supposed to open me up and go down and examine his previous work to see if everything is still hooked up the way it is supposed to be and then a plastic surgeon is supposed to come in with Super Glue - or something and put me all back together again.

Just prior to my surgery date in early March, they called and told me the plastic surgeon was not going to be there on that date (after I had already made arrangements to take time off from work, get someone to take out the trash, get someone to pick up the mail - and of course made plans for a free haircut) so, they rescheduled me to come down the end of March. Just prior to the new re-scheduled date at the end of March, they called and told me my cancer surgeon would not be able to be there on that date - so they rescheduled me for tests starting April 13th and surgery on April 17th.

I now have my fingers crossed that I can get out of town before the phone rings with another cancellation. It isn't that I am looking forward to this little exercise on the operating table, I would just like to get it over with. It's kind of funny, but when I went down the first time it was for a very major surgery and I was not really afraid or apprehensive about anything. I didn't know what to expect, so I was just fat, dumb, and happy about the whole thing. They took care of the fat part right away by lopping off around 100 pounds. And I wasn't all that happy by the time I woke up from the surgery, so that took care of the happy part. However other aspects of my personality remained the same. While this surgery is supposed to be tinker-toys compared to the first surgery, I still have vivid memories of what I went through following the first surgery and I am not at all excited about going through that again.

Sometimes I don't know whether to have fear or joy, but again - still being almost fat, kind of happy and still dumb as a rock - helps me overcome the fear part. I will have to go on lovenox (self administered injections with a long needle in the belly) three days prior to surgery. I had to go to a clinic this morning for all the details and instructions. When I was asked for the details or what had happened and why, the nurse got this wide-eyed startled look on her face. She said; "you had pancreatic surgery in October of 2007 - the survival rate for that is only supposed to be six months." I am sure glad I didn't know that before the six months was up or I might have quit showing up for work. But it has been right a eighteen months now - so I think that she must have had this mixed up with something else. In any event - I don't plan on cashing in for some time yet. I never did read instructions or pay attention too much to the rules. My only fear now is that I might die from extreme old age (I guess - according to others, I have already reached the old age mark) before they finally get me scheduled for this next surgery.

As the date grows near, I am starting to feel the anxiety and pressure - not from the upcoming surgery but from all the little details I have to take care of first. In any event, I guess I'd better stop now and hurry up - so I can wait!

THIS IS A TEST BLOG TO SEE WHAT THE ADDRESS IS.

I'M JUST A BIG "CUT-UP"

I went back down to Houston last week and went through the examination process again, and even though the results were exactly the same as they were last time, and even though they cancelled the surgery last time because of the results, they are going to go ahead with the surgery now. I love MD Anderson, but this was one wasted trip - the first one - and it does get to be expensive to just run down to Houston and spend three or four days in a hotel. But on the other hand, the expense is small in relation to the big picture I guess.

I will go back around the first of March and will go through the whole examination process again, including the CAT- Scan and other tests related to the cancer - just to make certain there is no new evidence of cancer. I believe the surgery is scheduled for the 6th and it will start with my cancer surgeon going in to examine things from the cancer surgery - and as he put it; "clean up anything that needs to be cleaned up". I got the impression that he is missing a couple of tools of some kind and wants to see if they might be inside me somewhere. He did remove a good part of my stomach and re-arranged some of the pieces that were left and tried to hook them all up together and get them to function. I guarantee they were not compatible and working together at first. I get this mental picture of duct tape and bailing wire and maybe some small timbers propping things up down there inside me. To be honest - it has sure felt like something like that is down there at times.

When my cancer surgeon is finished - the plastic surgeon is going to come in and make me beautiful - I guess. I get some mental flashes of this process also. Maybe I am going to have a clear plastic stomach so they can examine me easier in the future. Just get some windex and clean off the plastic and look right in. They can watch all the little corpsuckles or - whatever is down there - and make sure they are functioning properly - hopefully marching in step, or whatever they do. They can even see what I had for lunch. No more cheating on my diet. "Don't tell me you had fruit and vegetables for lunch. We see Potato chips, a Big Mac and a taco - who are you trying to fool?"

I guess this surgical experience should be tinker-toys compared to the cancer surgery which lasted almost ten hours, but I am more apprehensive about this one than I was about the cancer surgery. Ignorance is bliss - and I didn't know what to anticipate for the first surgery. I was just fat, dumb and happy about the whole thing. I still don't know what the surgery was all about, but I do have some vivid memories of what the recovery was like - and those are not pleasant memories. I just wish there was some kind of pill I could swallow that would straighten all this out without going through this cutting and recuperation process. But on the other hand, it wasn't too many years ago that they didn't even have the ability to do what they have done for me - so I am very lucky and grateful.

When I was down in Houston, I was reminded - once again, just how very lucky I am. Each time I see people who are so much worse off than I am and most of them have a smile on their face and a great attitude. Many of them are young people too. It is hard to imagine a child or teenager or young person in their early twenties going through something that is a lot more serious than I have to go through in many cases.

In the meantime, my good wife is down, or over, or up - in Egypt somewhere. I have no sense of direction - I get lost in Houston, so don't expect me to have any idea of what direction Egypt is from here. I think the first day between flying and waiting in airports she spent somewhere around 24 hours traveling. I am sure that was a hard day and hope that she holds up okay. She still has some small challenges with her hip replacement - but something like that won't ever keep her from doing what she wants to do. I believe there is a nine hour time difference from here to there - so I guess it is already tomorrow there. I might show up at the airport to pick her up on the wrong day - if today is supposed to be tomorrow or tomorrow is supposed to be yesterday - who knows! I should have just given her cab fare I guess.

After spending a few years in the automobile business - I just can't help but to relate myself to some of these cars I see each day. You can buy the fanciest most expensive car they build, but after a certain number of years and miles it starts to break down and wear out. You can fix the engine - or even do an engine transplant - but other parts that may be worn are not always compatible with that new engine. And, even if they are compatible, there are lots of different parts to break down even after you get the engine fixed. I see myself now as having had a major component of my engine fixed, but I know right now that I have a little rust in some areas of the body, need some work done on my under-carriage and springs and probably have some wiring that needs to be patched up or replaced. But fortunately I am not leaking any fluids at this time - except when I barely scrape my hand on something the blood flows like water for several days. The good news is that if I can hold on for awhile - I might even be considered a "Classic" and be worth even more than I am today.

I will probably give you one more account prior to going back to Houston if anything worth reporting happens.

God Bless and wishes for a great 2009!!

AL