December 03, 1998
Well, amazingly enough a few people have demanded another issue of the Stephen Newsletter - must be gluttons for punishment! I guess I'm a real publisher now because I've mastered this irregular publication schedule. Or maybe I'm just a little irregular anyway. I feel like I'm walking down a street and people are pointing at me and saying - "yeah, but don't the suit fit great!" (and if you don't get that classic punch line you know too many dirty jokes cause that one's clean.) Of course, if one more person asks if I'm back at work yet I'll kill 'em. I'm proud of the fact that I managed to work full time though this whole adventure, give speeches and travel and help IHS/MML to it's most successful year ever. Then again, a year off wouldn't be too bad either.

Anyway, it has been a momentous Autumn leading up to this week - the first anniversary of my operation and a psychological finish line of sorts. Being the paranoid type (even paranoids are right sometimes!), I told the oncology team that shooting pains had returned to my spine and other telltale signs of potential problems had me worried sick about getting sick again. God knows the variety of dreams and nightmares you can have about this is amazing. We decided to run the full spate of tests again - full body MRI, C-T Scan with dye, blood work-ups, etc. Given the state of the Ontario Hospital system - this round of tests took from September until my appointment today to complete. It took two weeks just to get a callback with a date for the MRI - which they won't leave a message with the spousal unit just in case you're keeping your cancer a secret from the family. Raises the question about when the hospital's obsession with patient confidentiality gets in the way of treatment - it has a real Orwellian feel to it when the hospital booking staff TELL you that they won't talk to your wife about your appointment times to protect your privacy despite being told in simple words of short length that they have my permission to do so. I guess that's the trouble with guidelines and rules - they mutate into laws. They finally agreed to leave a note on the file that they had permission to talk to any adult who answered the phone, but they warned it might not work. In the end they left messages on both my work and home answering machines which broadcast for a range of three blocks when you pick up the messages - twilight zone time.

Anyway, since I'd already decided I was dying and I was giving a few speeches at the Internet Librarian Conference in Monterey California, I decided that it was time to take a family vacation. Air Canada had just been on strike for weeks and was offering apology fares to frequent flyers. The normal short fare to San Francisco from Toronto can be over $1000.00 each. This can be a bit steep for a family trip but, putting my money where my mouth is I ventured onto the Internet and bought my tickets there at the best buy rate of $299.00 each - cheaper than the travel agent quoted! I can say that I'm one of the 1% of the population that have spent more than $1000.00 on the Internet using secure transaction services - Shit, I think that if I'm ripped off we can pay it off with the life insurance money anyway. Nothing like a black mood to get you to take risks, eh?

So we're off to San Francisco for 10 days from Oct. 28th - Nov. 7th. Stephanie's birthday is on Halloween and we talked Sydney into losing Halloween in Trawna for one on Castro street in SF. We stayed in a Best Western by Civic Center. We quickly discovered that our kids are snobs. They were appalled by the concept of a motor inn - no halls, no room service, HBO's a little fuzzy and the fact that it's a hundred dollars cheaper than all the other hotels in town doesn't impress them. It doesn't help that the two bars out the front door were one called STUDS and the other Bears. Sydney wanted to know if she could buy teddies in the Bears place. Zac told her no and to shut up - It worries me that he knew. He was relieved that there was a twelve foot high fence around the motel and the front gate was chained shut every night. Steph and I tried to explain that it was still a nice place - but they never shut up about it - snobs. Hell, I never stayed in a hotel until I was in my twenties - we always camped and with real bears not ersatz bikers in leather - come to think of it Ontario provincial parks are loaded with biker gangs - hmmmm. My own kids make me feel unsophisticated.

We took the kids on a bus tour and a harbour tour and did the wharf - pretty whirlwind. The most exciting part for Syd was beanie babies are cheaper in the US and she must have bought one daily. Then on the 31st we took a bus to Monterey. Of course, only Greyhound can turn a 2 hour trip into a 4 1/2 hour journey, and, of course it stopped in every town along the way. Do you know the way to San Jose? We do - and every other San too. Passed tons of workers harvesting garlic, artichokes and brussels sprouts. Monterey was lovely. Very resort-style and quaint with all the sea life you can imagine right out your front door. We spent a day at the aquarium. It was great. Part of the aquarium includes a tidal pool in Monterey Bay and a full school of tuna and a jellyfish collection. After that we did what all Canadians do in the States - went to the Factory Outlet Mall (bought shoes, shirts, sweaters, all bargains even with our 60 cent dollar.)

The best thing the kids and Steph did was a whale watch. I was speaking so I missed this. It was a six hour cruise with a marine biologist. They were very lucky - beautiful weather, calm sea and lots and lots of creatures. They saw a blue whale!, seals, sea lions, a school of 600-700!!! dolphins, and about 22 killer whales!! A right whale was spotted and an elephant seal popped up but quickly disappeared to avoid the killer whales. They saw a killer whale eat a sea lion alive - real nature and an interesting metaphor to have in my pocket whenever Syd's vegan tendencies emerge. ("But dear, how would Mr. Killer Whale survive if he wouldn't eat anything with a face - poor Free Willy would starve to death!") Steph was so awed when a killer whale jumped right beside the boat that she forgot to take a picture.

Another day Steph and the kids took a walking tour. There are a number of original adobe buildings still standing from the 1500's when the Spanish first settled there. The particular building they toured was the one Robert Louis Stevenson stayed in when he came to court his wife-to-be. (She was married with two children at the time, so it was quite a colourful tour for the kids. Her ex-husband ended up supporting him through his illnesses.) What's the point of moderating their TV watching when history is so, so entertaining?

We spent a final day and night in San Francisco (Chinatown, Japantown, Union Square, Nordstroms, Macys, Needless Markup, etc.) and then we came home on Nov. 7th. The cane and the tired parent look got us through customs. Since then, nothing too exciting has happened other than wait (on edge) for the results of the tests, hoping for the best, but cynically expecting the worst.

So we re-enacted what we did last year before the MRI results and not being allowed to leave the hospital. We started to panic about Christmas. We've been invited to a few Do's and we've planned a couple of get togethers. We put the tree up, Steph went to the craft show, and we're ready. I even washed and ironed the drapes in a fit of energy somewhat equivalent to the one Stephanie experienced just before every birth. In the middle of doing THE BIG CLEAN the vacuum cleaner blew up - probably from too much cat fur - so we had to run out and buy a new one.

The kids are doing well. Zac is my big boy in man's clothing. He's just a hair under 6 feet, ranges between high comic intensity that has me rolling in the aisle and morose 13 year-old angst and his new winter coat is a Man's XL! School is going very well. It's not his first year there so he's used to the routine for grade 8. Good news is he's ready, willing and able to babysit so Steph and I have actually gone out a couple of times. The scary part is his essays are getting to be educational for me. His science fair project is on operant conditioning and he is amassing tools and tests for his 30-40 test subjects to learn. Each test must be repeated a few dozen times so we'll be real popular all Xmas season as Zac turns all our friends and relatives into Pavlov's dog. I bought him The Catcher in the Rye because I was sick of seeing him read nothing by Agatha Christie and science fiction. He loved it, especially the part where Holden Caulfield hires a hooker. I'd forgotten about that part - the teacher will get a real kick out of his report on this one. He's got a whole load of new opinions! I got him a copy of Animal Farm to encourage a little politics with the sex. That'll teach those teachers to encourage them to choose their own books - subversive parents arise. I'm taking suggestions for the next book report - Maybe something politically incorrect for the oral book report - Satanic Verses might do.

Sydney's as busy as usual. She's doing well at school and she got elected to the Student Council even though she was in San Franscisco. She's still in the choir and library club and she goes twice a week to advanced gymnastics where she can do a flip in the air over the Great Wall of Gymnastics (I haven't seen this one yet but it just sounds frightening). Yesterday she came home and told us that she had gone to an environmental committee meeting. I can't keep up. She is also in second year viola. If you've never heard what public school itinerant music teachers can do with children and strings - count yourself lucky. If your children must choose an instrument, encourage them to choose one that actually plays the melody. Those viola pieces aren't really that hummable although they do stick in your mind long after you wish they were gone.

Stephanie's going crazy. She's finished the bartenders guide and it's finally going to press next week to be in stores for Xmas. The gymnastics book is down to final edit and goes to press after Xmas. She's 1/4 the way through the history textbook she's on the authors team for McGraw Hill and is buried in books about the War of 1812 (which Canadians think is a big deal and we love having burned the Whitehouse down but basically means nothing to history really) and she just signed a contract to write a book on parenting. So much for free time at all.

Anyway, with the Xmas stuff up and Halloween decorations down I'm ready to have the doctors tell me the results. I got my teeth cleaned at the dentist on Tuesday - which I normally wouldn't mention except I was sure they'd be terrible. You're not supposed to brush your teeth while you're on chemo - just rinse with baking soda 6-10 times a day. So I assumed my teeth would be wreck after 6 months of not brushing and so did the dental technician who decided to book two appointments to scrape and scale - yeecchhh. Anyway, I guess the toxic saliva from the chemo cleaned off plaque because she had a real easy time of it. Or maybe this toothpaste and flossing bit is a big conspiracy from the peppermint growers of the world.

Steph and I went to a fun IHS Micromedia office Christmas party last night and I drank more than a few Rusty Nails - just the perfect thing before blood tests. I wonder if they do blood alcohol levels or just count other stuff.

We arrive at Princess Margaret Hospital this afternoon and they've renovated the whole place. They moved my clinic from the 14th floor to the second floor. It took ten minutes to find it since the signs are all falling down. The blood work group is now on the main level and runs like a spa now. Those vampire nurses are the funnest people in the hospital - great senses of humour despite the work pace that would kill most people. You take a number like they have in the butcher shoppe, they call you by name and number and then you have to match your name with your actual birthday - I guess there's blood test junkies out there who try to illegally have additional blood workups.

So we get to the appointment and wait. None of the computers are working very fast after the move and it took 15 minutes to register one woman ahead of me. It's like arriving at the bank and being second in line for the only teller and you just know you're going to move along quickly and what luck you've had today. Then you overhear the person in front of you decide that she wants to probate three estates and purchase two mortgages in her self-directed RRSP from her favourite teller. You're doomed.

Anyway, we finally get acknowledged as being there and the nice volunteer who weighs you every visit starts her drill. I've gained back a lot of the weight that I didn't want back but what the hey, it's all me. Then you get your room assignment and wait. The new renovations here haven't been an improvement. They're smaller and there's only one chair so I let Steph have it and I sit on the bed/table or pace. The problem with pacing is that the new sink is run by an electric eye and every time you pass by it it turns itself on. It's a little sensitive - if the electric eye urinals at the airport were that sensitive you could play them like the dancing waters fountains. And the blinds haven't been installed yet and the window looks directly into the Ontario Hydro offices across the street. It'll make for an interesting flasher place - "breath deeply, hold, cough, flash, repeat". Must be waiting for a corporate sponsor for the window treatments.

Jeremy and Woody, my two favourite doctors are there but I'm visited first by a new doctor who's transferred down to Toronto from Ottawa, ostensibly for the better weather, he says with his silent medical student shadow in tow. He's read parts of the file but says he's a haematology specialist and my radar is going crazy and I'm wondering why I've got a new doctor now. He's got the results of the C-T scan and they're completely clear - good. Step one of three - check. I ask about the blood workup and he goes and finds that. It's all fine too expect for an expected lower white cell count which is normal after all the treatments - and besides I've got Bronchitis and I'm on amoxicillin to clean that up. Step two of three - check. OK - where's the MRI. They can't find it. It was done three weeks ago and it's not been entered in the computer system yet - their TQM rules are that all tests should be entered and read by a real doctor within 48 hours. For the past month I've been telling myself that they would call if the results were bad - I hadn't considered that they would just lose the file. Jeremy is furious - I like a doctor who gets mad on behalf of his patients. He personally goes down to the imaging centre and finds the file. Not only was it lost in the system - it had never been read or reported - jeeeeez. All this time, Stephanie and I are waiting, scared shitless, upstairs. Jeremy made it get read immediately while we waited. And since he chairs the committee that sets the hospital standards I think my experience may actually result in some system improvements - at least I hope so - or a return to the good standards before the triple hospital merger. Anyway, last but not least, the MRI shows absolutely no compression of the spinal cord, no tumours, nothing, clear, nada. Step three of three - check check check. Even better, Jeremy took over the file again and told me that I was totally clear. He believes that we've beaten it and that I should not expect any reoccurrence of the NHL on my spine or anywhere else. It's his speciality and he's been right about everything so far and I trust him. He also isn't prone to hyperbole (much like myself - haha) so when he is clearly positive I believe him.

All the pains I feel are probably normal recovery pains. Since they removed so many nerves out of my spine nothing can feel completely normal again since it can't feel and I'll have to get used to the way things feel as normal. The cooking of my stomach and esophagus by the radiation is mostly healing so that should be all gone soon. Jeremy thinks that the problems and pain in my legs and knees will go away when they get used to my new gait - apparently when you change your gait you create new wear patterns on the bones and cartilage which old middle-aged, overweight bodies like mine take some getting used to. Anyway, the end result is I'm normal for my age - I can go back to whining with my friends about our mutual aches and pains - and since we're mostly boomers we'll make all of society listen to the whining too. The hair's back but there's still not enough of it (whining again).

So there's the news. I'm clear and cured. I remain whiny and paranoid but then that's normal for me and half of my generation. I get to see the kids grow up and Stephanie gets to start treating me normally again. Everybody can stand down on Stephen alert. I've got a touch of post traumatic distress syndrome but that's normal and should decrease over time - or I'll go postal at Internet World Canada - one or the other.

Sincere thanks for everyone's good wishes, concerns, cards, and too many small and big kindnesses too mention here. From jokes through e-mail to regular funny cards, phone calls, and everything else. I owe everyone for keeping me positive through this whole adventure - now on to the next one.