What's Eating You?

“Everything gives you cancer,
There's no cure, there's no answer,
Everything gives you cancer,
Don't touch that dial,
Don't try to smile,
Just take this pill,
It's in your file.”   -  Lyrics from“Cancer” by Joe Jackson

My father died of cancer. He was 62 years old. He had smoked non-filtered cigarettes (called ‘studs’ back in those days) from the time he was 12 years old until just before he died. Back in his time, just about every man smoked. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, and a lot of men used tobacco as a way of escaping the fear, anxiety and confusion of war. Smoking reminded them of the civilian life back in the states, and they all longed for that.  My dad lost his ability to speak normally on Memorial Day of 1975. Subsequent visits to doctors revealed that one cancerous lung had collapsed. We didn’t know it at the time, but cancer had metastasized not only to his other lung, but to other organs and to his bones. He died less than two and a half months later.

My father-in-law was diagnosed with stomach cancer in the spring of 1998. After several surgeries, chemotherapy treatments and radiation, he died from his metastasized cancer at the end of July of that year. He had a history of skin cancer, and had many spots removed during his lifetime. Did this lead to his stomach cancer?

My dear sweet wife discovered that she had early-stage breast cancer in 2004. A lumpectomy and a month of radiation made her right as rain. Follow-ups over the years have shown that she is still cancer-free.

Here is my guilty cancer experience. I had a spot on my arm that would not heal. When the prescription antibiotic cream that the doctor prescribed failed to heal it, he scheduled a biopsy. The worst part of the biopsy procedure was the local anesthetic. That stuff hurts! Anyway, a little chunk of flesh was removed to send off for analysis, and three stitches closed the wound.

When the time came for stitch removal, the doctor informed me that the biopsy revealed basal cell cancer. This is a relatively slow-growing cancer and usually only causes problems if it is left untreated. I was scheduled to get the rest removed in a few weeks.

As I was showering the next day, the biopsy spot tore open. To me, this was horrific! Yeah, it was just a small area, but it was now an open, bloody wound. A call to the doctor led to apologies and an appointment for the wound to be closed by reinforced fabric strips. The doctor explained that cancerous tissue doesn’t always mend well. His tape strip remedy did the trick until my scheduled surgery.

Earlier this week, the same doctor removed the rest of my basal cell carcinoma. Again, the worst part was the local anesthesia. Just for your information, I do not look at what is going on with the needles and scalpels until the surgery is over and the stitches have been sewn. This keeps me from passing out.

I currently sport a stitched wound that is well over 2” long. The surgery ensures that all of the cancerous tissue plus a (hopefully) small healthy margin was removed. There are a few dissolving stitches underneath holding the “meat” together, and eight traditional stitches keeping the skin closed. Those will be removed next Wednesday. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a little tender. I just hope that this wound doesn’t tear open the day after the stitches are removed!

What is funny is that I never really sweated having that spot of skin cancer on my arm – at least as long as I didn’t dwell on it. I KNEW that this cancer was unlikely to spread, but in the back of my mind was the realization that I did indeed have a little bit of cancer. 

I actually feel guilty, as if I had some kind of impostor cancer. After all, I know a lot of people who have endured numerous surgeries, bouts of chemo and many, many doses of radiation. 

There is no chance that I will take a lap at next year’s Relay for Life. It is a strange to think that your cancer wasn’t good enough (or more accurately, bad enough) to consider yourself a member of the fraternity of cancer survivors.

No family has been untouched by cancer. My hope is that one day in the not-too-distant future, all cancer will be simply a footnote in history. My dream is that once that cure is discovered, it will be available to everyone.

Driving Me Crazy

You know, baby, driving is a serious game,
You gonna get me a heart attack....
                                              - lyrics from "I Love You" by Yello

I have known for many years that there are some pretty bad drivers on Ohio’s roadways. Some are licensed, and some are probably not but drive nevertheless. I know for a fact that many Ohio drivers do not have insurance on their vehicles as the law requires, but since there is little consequence legally, those same drivers keep on keepin’ on. Why let trivial matters like driver’s licenses and insurance keep them from their “God-given right” to drive like an idiot?

You are probably wondering why I am on this tangent. Well, to be blunt, I am SICK of crappy drivers! Since I live in a small town in a rural part of Buckeye Nation, my wife and I are required to navigate two-lane roads to get from Point A to Point B. It is a rare car ride indeed when we are not greeted by an oncoming vehicle drifting over the center line.

Some like to hang the driver’s side of their vehicles over the center line once in a while, as if challenging this artificial barrier that they appear to have some disagreement with. Sometimes they wander over the line so far, we think we may have to drive into a ditch to avoid a head-on collision. What is strange is that “driver drift” has increased quite noticeably over the last month and a half. The offending vehicles are cars, SUVs, dump trucks… just about every vehicle type you can imagine, including the occasional motorcycle.

Sometimes the reason for this poor driving is obvious. When the driver of the oncoming vehicle keeps glancing towards their lap, he or she must have spilled a cup of fire ants on their britches, or else he or she is looking at his or her phone. Since we don’t see many fire ants in Ohio, I am assuming the latter is more likely.

 It is pretty obvious that precious few drivers in Ohio were taught how to make a left turn. I somehow doubt that driver’s education instructors across the state told their charges, “When turning left, be sure to drive through as many lanes as possible before finally reaching the lane you desire. If you feel especially kind that day, use your left turn signal before you drive through everyone else’s lane.”

While I see many case of this left turn disease daily, I saw the epitome of this epidemic just yesterday, which was Labor Day. Since it was a holiday, The Highway Patrol was out in force, pulling over speeders and other ne’er-do-wells. My wife and I had a little shopping to do in the Lima, Ohio area. We were in the left turn lane at a major intersection, and were approaching the red traffic light. Another vehicle approaching from the right was making a left turn, and not surprisingly drove through my lane, coming close to hitting the left front of my vehicle as they usually do. The big surprise was that this vehicle was an Ohio State Highway Patrol car being piloted by a trooper. Yes, a state trooper, sworn with enforcing the traffic laws of Ohio, was incapable of making a left turn!  He was not responding to a call, as there were no lights or siren, and no high speed acceleration once past the turn. He was just another crappy Ohio driver on his way to make other Ohio drivers a little more miserable. By the way, I have never had a ticket or other citation, so I have no bad experiences with the Highway Patrol to jade my viewpoint (other than that trooper’s poor driving, that is).

Anyone who has been driving for a while has some close-call stories. Our closest call came on a Saturday evening as we were driving to town for some Chinese food. As we were rolling along, a sedan driven by a teenage girl passed us as about 65 MPH or so. She must have had her cruise control on since her speed never wavered, and it was obvious that she was distracted by her phone. Coming toward us in the opposite direction was a Buick with two people on board. We saw what the possibility for a head-on collision coming, since the teen girl was driving in their lane while passing us. I hit the brakes so as to allow the girl plenty of time to get in front of us. Because she was clueless to what was about to happen and her highest priority at that moment was her damn phone, she continued in the oncoming lane. Fortunately, the Buick realized that the idiot teen was not going to return to her own lane and drove their car off the side of the road. This likely saved their lives. The clueless moron continued on her way, eventually getting back into her own lane.

The moral of my blog story today is simple. When you are driving, just drive. We all want to get where we are going without someone causing an accident!