Why We Celebrate Passover - A Modern Take

This off-topic essay is my response to a request from my cousin Shelley.  

We were slaves in the land of Egypt. Our ancestors must’ve been a lot better at manual labor than we are today. Why else would the Pharaohs make them build pyramids?   After years of dreaming of having the freedom to become accountants, doctors, and lawyers, the Jews were fed up. Moses, their leader, went to the Pharaoh and asked him to let his fellow-steins go.

The Pharaoh, in his best Yul Brynner impression, raised one eyebrow towards his bald head and said “No.”

Moses told him he’d be sorry. G-d sent plagues to Egypt. The first was blood.

“No,” said Pharaoh.

Then came fire.

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire! But still, no”

Locusts, hail, and a few others nobody likes to talk about followed.

The last one was the Death of the First Born. The angel of death flew around Egypt, passing over (get it?) the houses of the Jews, but entering the houses of the Egyptians to slay their oldest child.

Finally after his own son died, Pharaoh said, “don’t let the door hit you in the ptolyme (which is Egyptian for ‘ass’).”

So we left, crossed the Red Sea, hung out in the desert and ate food like it was Manna from Heaven, which it was, until we made it to Israel, 40 years later. Apparently, not one Jewish man had been willing to stop and ask for directions.

Of Half-Marathons and Full Hearts

Here's a story about 4 ladies who make me feel good, or at least better than I otherwise would...

Pictured below are Taylor (l) and Trish (r) from Dr. Z's office. The sign in the middle was made by my daughter and her friend, our next door neighbor.

T&T ran the Publix Georgia Half Marathon last Sunday. They both knew of my running history, so we talked often about races. They couldn't believe I ran as much as I did during chemo. Sometimes I felt just the opposite - look how little I'm running.

The Publix Half is a great race, attracting close to 15,000 runners. I've done it myself a few times. Unlike the Savannah Half I've done the last two years, this one's all about the hills. Since I wasn't in race shape. I decided to come out and cheer on two of my favorite healthcare professionals, along with Danny G and many of my fellow Team Phidippides runners.

Taylor was too fast to see me as she rounded the corner from Highland Ave to Virginia, and Trish was only able to slow briefly lest she get trampled by the pack. So they missed the sign I'm holding above.

I wanted to stand out amongst the crowd, and lacking sufficient hair to bother dyeing brightly, a sign seemed like a good idea. Citing a need for good penmanship, I'd asked my daughter to help, and she in turn grabbed our next door neighbor. The two of them came up with this excellent poster, complete with St Patrick's day puns (I Rish you a good, fun race), pot o' gold, etc.

Needless to say the grown up gals were touched and impressed by the younger gals work.

And I'm just the guy who shleps neon-hued poster board from Va-Hi to Johns Creek, making everyone happy in the process.

Including me.

Enter Scanman

No, I'm not posting any Metallica videos to go with that title. If you got that reference, you already have all the James, Lars & Co you need.

Today was the bone scan to make sure that pain in my hip and leg wasn't cancer. The good news is, it's not cancer. The bad news is, that's two scans in 10 days that turned out to be unnecessary. Or maybe that's good news. Whatever.

The pain is actually a little better today. The root cause could still be some damage to the ball and socket caused by my radiation treatments. We're going to keep an eye on it, and if it doesn't heal on its own, perhaps do another scan (yay!) with an MRI.

My other abnormalities this week include a 3 day headache, hoarse voice, and a rather pretty rash under one arm. All are likely compliments of Stivarga, so I'm going to take a couple days off, and then start back at a lower dose.

Bottom line - cancer hasn't returned to my bones, and as they say, Nothing Else Matters.

Don't call it a Comeback!

LL admonished his fans not to call his return a "comeback" in this classic.

I get it. Comebacks can be good, or they can be bad. An injured athlete returning to the field a after weeks of rehab is a good comeback.

A head of hair regrowing after a round of chemotherapy ends? Also good.

But pain in the hip/pelvis, the area that started this now two plus year long ordeal, that's a comeback I could do without. Unfortunately, we don't get to decide these things. We just have to deal with them.

I just have to deal with this.

It could be any number of things causing pain on my left hip that is now radiating down my leg. Scar tissue, a new injury, joint inflammation from increased workouts. So I went to see Dr. Z, and have a bone scan scheduled for later this week. He's on the fence about this - leaning toward injury vs. reemergence of cancer in the area we so thoroughly irradiated two years ago. So I'm replenishing my supply of legal narcotics and hoping the scan tells us what's going on.

Until then, I will continue to enjoy my 90's rap collection on Spotify.

"How Fast Can You Get to the Hospital?"

Those are words you never want to hear. But for many of us Members of the Club, they are words we eventually do hear. My first time was last Tuesday.

The catalyst was my description of the burning sensation I had felt in my throat and lungs since the night before. Dr. Z knew I'd been on a long flight a few days earlier and he was concerned that I could have developed a blood clot, despite having been off any chemo drugs for quite some time. So off I went to Emory, to receive a cardiac CT scan.

As it turns out, I am clot-free in all the right places.

We think this is an upper respiratory infection, which I might owe to my seatmate on the Prague - Brussels leg of my trip home last Friday. I've been on steroids and antibiotics for a few days now. The sensation is still there, which has kept me from exercising much this week. I'd give myself about a B so far, for not turning into a total ass as I might have in the past after a week of little physical activity.

I start my new drug next week. I've written before about the co-pay assistance programs that drug manufacturers have to help put really expensive drugs into the hands of people who might not otherwise be able to afford them. My drug, Stivarga, retails for over $10,000 a month. That's $350 a pill, once a day. My insurance company picks up 75% of that tab, so Marcie and I were trying to figure out where the "extra" $2500 or so a month was going to come from.

But along came the Reach Program from Bayer. To my pleasant surprise, I qualified for a grant. My cost will be, are you sitting down, $50. Not $50 a pill, $50 a month. It's a brilliant thing for Bayer, since they still get the $8k or so from Humana. Otherwise, I might've gone with some other therapy that's less expensive. Like the old saying goes, 8 grand in hand is worth 10k in the bush.