One thing about the online support groups is that we make friends with people from all over the world. Different personalities come into our lives and our homes that we might never have met under other circumstances. One of the friends whose online company I enjoy is Alan. I can't quite figure him out. He's a tech guru, a long time choir participant, knows his Guinness, and really knows how to celebrate the New Years, according to his entertaining tales.

So, to my friend, Alan of Northamptonshire, UK, I dedicate today's blog. He was diagnosed with chondrosarcoma in his Lumbar spine, and treated by the finest sarcoma Multi-Disciplinary Team at Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital, Stanmore, UK. He had surgery in December 2005.

His tumour was quite large, he says, “bigger than a pint of beer!” (I think UK pints are larger than US pints. Aren't they?)

Though having Chondrosarcoma is rare. (An average of 90 patients a year are diagnosed in the UK.) Alan has the dubious distinction of having CS as a secondary cancer. His first, though unrelated to Chondrosarcoma, was in 1982. For this, he received radiotherapy. There is some question as to whether his radiation treatments may have contributed to his having CS, as there are medical references to be found in Pubmed.

After his surgery Alan had a routine chest X-ray which showed three 'spots' on one lung. This frightened everyone. A CT scan revealed, however, that there was nothing to worry about - it was clear. There was much relief all round. I mention this occurrence, so that anyone reading might keep in mind the inconsistencies of medical diagnostics. Though frightening at times, keep a level head, and wait until a final consensus.

Though glad to have his "pint size" tumour removed intact. Post surgically, Alan has had to deal with loss of his previously normal activities. Since a huge amount of muscle from one side of his back was removed with his tumour, he has developed a 'rolling gait'. And has been in PT and some home-made hydrotherapy ever since.

Alan wrote to the group: "I am no longer able to enjoy long country walks, or even short ones for that matter, and cannot YET ride my bicycle safely. BUT - I can still ring church bells, sing in the choir, even carry the cross if pushed, so my life has NOT come to an end! But it IS different!"

This scan is the British pint sized tumour.

He once told me that he uses a walking stick which happens to have been presented to him by the Minister for Education of the Sudan (not everyone can say THAT).

I still don't know the full story of the walking stick. Maybe Alan will fill us in.

By February of this year Alan had been
experiencing increasing pain and loss of mobility until his legs felt quite useless, and climbing stairs became almost impossible. After having a long process to wait for appointments and scans, he finally got the news he needed more surgery. Thank heavens, not for Chondrosarcoma, but for stenosis of the spine. The surgery would involve removal of the roof of the spinal canal at around L3 and insert some metalwork to stabilize the spine.

Who would be glad, and relieved, to be told he was to have spinal surgery? Alan, of course. Chondrosarcoma in the spine, once, is enough! Since his surgery in April, he has had considerable pain relief. But now, he is practically back to square one in his strength and ability to be upright, drive, walk or even sit at the computer.

Though Alan has had the previous cancer, then Chondrosarcoma, and now this new recovery to get through, he sure has a reassuring way of giving himself (and others) a morale boost.

"It WILL take a long time to improve - and it may NEVER get back to how it was - but "every day is a bonus". It could have been a whole lot worse!

I know there have been days, too, when things were very discouraging, but one time Alan shared with the Chondrosarcoma group some very astute words of wisdom about how to handle things when you want to pull up from troubles. These words come from his own father, and I think we can all relate:

"You won't get anywhere if you start with one wheel in the ditch"

~~~

Speaking of wheels in a ditch. That is just about where mine have been relegated. After sclerotherapy treatments today, the doctor informed me... no walking, no bathing, no hot tubbing, keep wearing those tight stockings, etc. etc.

I will call tomorrow, report how I am, and see if I can use my wheels again. Or maybe, I will walk without them?

So, aside from walking over to my neighbor's to get a ride to the doctor and walking from the car to his office and back, that was the extent of my "stepping out" for today.

I am beginning to wonder if I would have had better luck if I had taken up cartwheeling!

That's not me in the picture. That's Carly, who also had spine surgery (when she was age four). Remember her?

Those who are the Caregivers for Sarcoma patients often have a lot more to deal with than we think. Friends and families may have a lot of understanding for the patient, but please do not forget the one who is the closest to the patient. They need support and understanding too. And sometimes a really trustworthy babysitter.

Today I dedicate the blog to this very special young woman, who managed to be there for her husband through the most difficult times, and then turned around and gave her loving support to others in the Chondrosarcoma Support Group.

Everything was beautiful for Carrie. She and the love of her life were married, and settled down. Soon their first born son came along to put more sunshine into their lives.

But, her husband had that annoying swelling on the back of his thigh. They thought it was a muscle injury. But, then, after scans, the preliminary announcement was: Extraskeletal Myxoid Chondrosarcoma. They would have to wait until after surgery before it would be verified by biopsy. The tumor was so large, it seemed to be imperative to get to it immediately, and amputation was the treatment option offered.

Carrie's infant was just 14 days old at this point. You can just imagine how Carrie and her husband felt!!!

Wanting to be sure that amputation was not the only answer, Carrie called around, and pressed to have an appointment for a second opinion from a Musculoskeletal Tumor Specialist at their nearest University Medical Center. Even though they were frightened that every day which passed would make the cancer spread, they hung onto their decision to see this specialist.

Her husband's surgery was scheduled the day after her birthday. The tumor weighed almost as much as their baby! It was about the size of a large papaya, leaving 70 stitches to remember it by. Best of all, there was no amputation needed. He left the hospital 2 days later and was able to walk without crutches.

Because the final biopsy showed that it was a Liposarcoma, he received 5 weeks of radiation.

Carrie's husband can walk just fine now, and has no further evidence of disease.

The baby is soon coming up to his first birthday!

I wish all sarcoma stories could have such happy endings.

~~
It was a cold and windy day...

Seriously! Northern California coast can be so chilly, when the rest of the nation is warm!

The chill put a damper on my venturing out, so I waited until afternoon and did a short walk around the neighborhood with my friend, "Mr. Tri-Walker". (No, not sky walker!)

It gets a little bumpy over sidewalks. Some of the neighbors have the popular California gardening trend of covering their front yard completely with stones. The lava stones are the worst, as they are easily scattered. I am glad that my walker has such thick tires and can take the stones in stride.

As for my own front yard, no stones, just flowers and plants, all wild, (much to my neighbors discomfort). It is a senior neighborhood, after all.
I just don't conform.

I grew those poppies myself, by scattering seed. No they aren't California poppies. They are like the ones in the Wizard of Oz, except they don't make you sleepy as far as I can tell. And, no they are not opium poppies, either. Just poppies.

Needless to say, my walk was short. Going back over my blogs, based on the streets covered. I can estimate it was about 1200 steps.

Today, I dedicate to Sarcoma survivor, Linda, who just recently celebrated 5 years of survival. This is a woman who could write a book about her experiences that would benefit so many others with similar kinds of diagnoses.

Ask yourself how in the world you would figure out what to do in the following circumstances:

How fast could you learn to maneuver through the medical system?

How would you keep your focus if you had a tumor located beneath the skull, on your sixth cranial nerve, producing double vision?

What would you think if you were told the tumor is up against the carotid artery on one side, and the brain stem on the other?

How would you manage it, having to wait months for diagnosis, surgery, biopsy, radiation.

How would you feel knowing that not only might you lose your sight, but your hearing too?

In March of 2002, Linda woke up with double vision that did not go away.

Unfortunately, it is not always easy to find a doctor who has experience with her diagnosis. When she saw the first doctor, he was not aware of what kind of tumor she had. Then, she had a doctor who wanted to just do radiation without a biopsy. He did not suggest referring her to someone who could operate.

Instead of just going along with the treatments suggested, she had the presence of mind to start to ask questions. How much radiation would be given? Why would he offer it to her even if he didn't know what kind of tumor it was? Why would he do this without knowing if it was malignant or not? He told her he would give her the strongest photon radiation the brain could handle without giving her satisfactory reasons for her other questions.

Often, when a patient is diagnosed with a tumor within the head, the fear takes over, and they just want to have it treated right away without thinking about the fact that they might have other options than those being offered. They may not think about making the effort to get a second opinion which might make a difference in outcome. But Linda, wanted a true understanding that made sense to her. She thought it more important to take the time get a another opinion. So, she researched her options for a doctor who might be more experienced. In the meantime she taped one lens of her glasses with surgical tape so she could only see out of one side in order to see just one image instead of two. It was not very comfortable but it helped her to function.

Finally she found a doctor with whom she felt secure enough to have a craniotomy for her biopsy, He could not remove all of the tumor because of the difficult location being so close to nerves and the brain. Even though the surgery was done to just debulk the tumor and get a biopsy, it was more than a simple procedure. Linda was told that her ear canal would need to be removed in order to access the tumor. Fortunately, her doctor found a way to avoid that. Her surgery involved cutting a C shaped incision from one side of her ear, near her face, all the way around to the bottom of her neck. The surgeon had to cut thru her jaw in order to go around and save her ear canal.

The biopsy revealed an agressive grade 2-3 Chondrosarcoma.

About five months after the surgery her double vision improved. It was said that probably some swelling went down and enough of the tumor was removed to relieve the pressure near the cranial nerve.

Linda, then learned that Proton Beam radiation was her next step for the best option. She went to Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston for 7 weeks of proton radiation. She contacted Dr. Norbert Liebsch who has seen and treated more than 300 cases of skull base tumors over thirty years and has had 95% success rate. It has took several months to get an appointment, but it was well worth the wait.

She had to be fitted for a special mask, which took about 25 minutes for the whole process. The radiation went right thru her ear canal. Even though she again was told she would loose her hearing, fortunately it did not happen. Linda has learned that many times doctors have to tell us the best, as well as the worst case scenarios, and not to be afraid. She made great progress with her proton radiation treatments and felt fine throughout the seven weeks. Except for some fatigue Linda did not have any complications. She was able to walk from her lodgings to the hospital every day for 7 weeks, and she was able to fly home from Boston, eight states away to her home when necessary. Her side effects are numbness on the right side, the tongue and bottom right lip. Numbness is from the surgery not the radiation. Today the tumor is doing exactly what is expected. It is sitting there, not shrinking, not growing and not moving. Just Dormant. She does not have any damage to the brain or brain stem from the radiation.

(note: the photo is representative)

Though her original biopsy came back Grade 2-3, Dr. Liebsch arranged for a second opinion on it. It was Grade 1.

She was told that having Sarcoma in the skull was so rare that it is 1 in 10 million. Considering that statistic, it is amazing that we have about 60 members in the Chondrosarcoma Support Group with a similar diagnosis.

This indomitable woman got herself the best of care by researching her options, following through with having to wait until she could get the best possible treatment. She always brought a tape recorder with her to all visits and listened again when she got home, in order to sort out the facts from the misconceptions. She knew that though you think you are paying attention you really cannot comprehend everything while you in the doctor’s office.

Linda helped so many others in the Chondrosarcoma Support Group while she was going through all her treatments. She emailed the group from the hospital several times offering information from her experiences, and positive feedback on how she was managing. She taught others how to get through the boondoggle of diagnosis, second opinion, biopsy, surgery, radiation, and keeping a positive attitude as well as accepting the challenges.

After five years of survival Linda says, “Life is Good.”

~~~
Today was not a "happy camper" day for me. I had to use my walker.

I had already put it away in the garage a few months ago, but here it is in my life again. Oh well, it is my friend, keeping me stabilized and relieving my pelvis from stress and pain, so this is the way it is.

Still, I went for a walk of sorts. I went to a doctor's appointment, and waiting, I walked in the hallway of the clinic. Turned out my appointment was much later than I thought, so I walked, and walked up and down the corridor, and no cell phone call from the office. Finally, I went in and asked if the doctor was behind on his schedule.

"No", they said, "You arrived quite early." Hmmm. I am glad I got to walk on smooth ground with my handy dandy walker. It once belonged to my mother. She used to call it her Cadillac Walker. It really is unusual in that it is not something you have to lift and step, lift and step. It has heavy duty air filled wheels, and best of all, it folds in half, length wise, so it can be stowed away quite easily. It is the next best thing to the sit-down walker. I have one of those too. But, so glad I don't need to use it right now.

I have been calling around to see if I can rent a recumbent exercise bike that will fit well in my living room. I know I can pedal one of those as I have done it before in Physical Therapy a few months ago. If I can get a smaller model than they had, then I can at least use it on those days when standing to walk any distance might be a problem. That has been part of the problem all along. If I have some good days where I have stamina, strength and will power, that's great. But, if my body decides it wants a break and I have to take it easy for a while, then it feels like I am losing ground, losing the strength I had already built up and then I have to start all over again. It used to be easier when I was younger, but I am now puttering along at nearly 62. (My birthday is next month.) Really, one does slow down a bit as one ages. It's annoying.

Today's walk lasted approximately 35 minutes at a slow and painless pace.

Today is dedicated to Jehuda.

When he first contacted me in 2004, through the Chondrosarcoma Support Group, I wondered. Who is this goofy guy?

Though he was dead serious about his diagnosis and finding the "best place in the world" to receive treatment, I could tell he had a zany sense of humor. We researched diligently. It appeared that the best place in the world for his particular kind of Chondrosarcoma, would be at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester Minnesota, with Dr. Franklin Sim. And that is where he went for treatment.

It is very challenging for anyone to be able to go to another country for treatment. However, friends from Switzerland did fund raising for Jehuda's surgery. They said: "Under such conditions one should not have to worry about money." His wife, Dorothee, also pushed a lot. Some money was raised in the USA, while they were there trying to cover the costs. Jehuda says, "I would never have thought that this part of my life's journey would entitle me to so much money! Too bad it could only be used for "repair work". I liked the trip to the USA though, even when the most part of it was flat on my back!"

Jehuda was away from his kids a long time. He had the same kind of surgery located in the same part of the body as me. I consider him my "bone brother".


The members of the group, and I, followed Jehuda's story as it unfolded, and worried when we didn't hear from him throughout his surgery and long recovery. Then, finally a word or two, or three, and then three hundred, many of them quite zany, funny and full-hearted. One does not go through something like this without freeing oneself, and enjoying life to the fullest as best one can. Too bad we have to come to the point of being diagnosed with cancer, and so close to the threat of death to achieve that kind of freedom of spirit.

Jehuda once wrote: "After chondrosarcoma, one has the opportunity to realize every day of life is a flame, and it burns brightest in darkness."

Jehuda has been right there with us in the group since then. We have watched his children grow up, seen him make new strides, (literally!) in his life, go through bombings in the middle of a MRI scan, and have to make his way home on foot during the worst of it, and come home to the children hidden beneath a kitchen table with a mattress over the window. With the same surgery as he, I don't know that I would have been able to depend on my body to have the physical stamina to get there through all that. I picture myself like the lady who was last down the staircase in the world trade center on 9/11. She just still kept on truckin' along , and steppin' to her own beat. Bless her heart, she is my She-ro! (hero). And Jehuda is my inspiration. Between them both, if I keep them in my mind, I can be ready for Team Sarcoma in July.

Jehuda has supported, and entertained us, the other chondrosarcoma members of the group, with his delightful take on everything. He's been there for so many others, supporting and giving of himself, good information, humor, hope and a prayer. With laughter and tears, he's shared our companionship and our grief

I don't wish to make light of it all. Really, it's no picnic to be diagnosed with chondrosarcoma, even though it might be "one of the lucky cancers to get," as some doctors, say! Yes, some of them do say it, really. I guess they see some other horrendous cases. Then when a chondrosarcoma patient comes in, it may be simple to just "cut it out" and send us home to watch and wait. But, when we are first diagnosed it doesn't seem that easy. In fact it can be just as terrifying to be told no chemo or radiation will touch it. (except Proton Beam, maybe, and in rare cases). It is a bone cancer, and there is a lot of fear ingrained regarding those two words. A flippant reassurance can come across as not intended.

Incidentally, Jehuda is a Research Scientist, like Zheng-yu Peng, previously mentioned in my blog. He teaches medical students and works on brain cancer. Just a another reminder that no one is immune from Sarcomas. Fortunately, he is still with us!

Jehuda says: My favorite Rabbi, Harry Danziger, said repeatedly (If I a more or less remember correctly) "At any point in your life, don't worry about being on the top or not. Just look back at your life and see how many mountains you have climbed. Of course, between all the mountains were valleys. The important thing is, you went the road."

~~~

Katsumi came over today and we walked together down at Capitola (by the sea) after making a quick stop at the book store, where I found some interesting local authors books. And, best of all, was able to order a new Warriors spin off, apparently in manga style. Can't wait to send it to my granddaughter.

Unfortunately, I had another seizure. I was aware of it only a second after Kats did. He was asking me if I was alright, just when I realized I was in staring mode. We all have those moments of "spacing out", but this is extended. Except for the inner electrical vibrations coming up my body, it really is quite pleasant. Like everything slows down and I'm non-distractible. Well, I just feel a little detached, that is.

I do get these episodes when I am by myself and can manage. It's just always easier when someone is with me. It's not so much that I need someone to watch over me, as I am really fine. It's just nice that I am not standing/or sitting there staring (scaring little kids or their moms?). I can talk or walk when I am in it. Just not articulately.

Kats took me over to the bookshop cafe, sat me down, and got a drink of water so I could take my medicine. I had a normal dosage this morning. The only thing I can think of triggering it, is that I only slept four hours last night. Anyhow, I took my med and sat there quietly until I felt more "normal". I am always left feeling a little disoriented and distracted. But, not any worse than a parent who is driving a car with four noisy kids inside.

We walked outside and I sat on a bench, while Kats went to get the car. I just closed my eyes and relaxed while he drove. By the time we got down to the beach, I had begun to feel better. So, we walked along the beach and around town before we went up to our favorite place for Jazz. Going up the stairs, there are 14 of them, was a challenge as my legs are still not over the pain issues they had yesterday. And later coming down was doing the two-step.

I ran into an old friend from when I worked in the computer lab in college. I hadn't seen her in six years. Funny how our paths diverged in our work. She is a serious computer whiz kid, now. And here I am wondering how to do things without DOS, and html code. Wish I still had my MAC. Okay, I'm not that bad, but I do think I need to upgrade my skills!!! Now that we are back in touch, perhaps, Jacqueline will bring me up to date.

The picture is sunset at Capitola Beach. Gorgeous, huh?


I didn't wear my IPOD. Kats provided the music. He sang traditional Japanese Noh. I have never cared for it because of the instruments always seem to overtake the vocalist. But Kats singing solo Noh is very peaceful.

Our walk tonight lasted 45 minutes not counting the stairs.

I dedicate today's walk to Jackie and her family. They have been a unified support for one another through Jackie's diagnosis since August 2006. The tumor in her head was located directly behind her sphenoid and behind the optical nerves adjacent to the pituitary gland. Portions of it were wrapped around the left optic nerve. The lesion behind the sternum was about 3-4cm. After surgical biopsy the brain lesion was considered to be a metastasis from the sternum. Though the pathology was determined to be chondrosarcoma, there was also a question of chordoma. Occasionally the two can appear together.

She received radiation and chemotherapy, and Jackie's family rallied round her, keeping her spirits up, taking her out of the hospital for little excursions, encouraging her to eat, taking care of her with patience and understanding while in the midst of their own pain, and making sure she got the rest she needed when at home. This is the kind of family that sticks together and manages to gets through the tough times, with continued love, committment and respect. Probably the most challenging for them all was arranging for her son to come visit her at every opportunity, and helping him to understand her illness, and not leaving him out of the situation. Just how does one handle telling a young child about Mommy's hospitalizations, chemotherapy, radiation treatsments, changes in appearance.

On behalf of his 6 year old nephew, Neil, he asked for recommendations from cancer counselors for book titles to help children dealing with cancer in the family. He found that he wanted to have a more straight forward approach than those suggested, so that Neil could understand what was occuring. So, Joseph has published a book, "My Mom has Cancer". It is a child's photo essay, less about words than what a child can see with his own eyes. I think any family going through similar circumstances might find this worthwhile.

Her brother also created her blog in order to keep family on both sides of the Pacific apprised of her health.

~~~

Tummy pain is GONE! Yay!

My energy is pretty good. I was able to borrow my neighbor's car and go to the bank. Standing in line on a Friday after 5 PM! What was I thinking? Standing for long periods of time without an opportunity to move around or sit down puts me into pain!! And this line went slowly.

I didn't get out of the bank until it closed. When will I learn? So, I went to walk off the pain, but I went too far. By the time I returned home, I was in high pain. It is so difficult to tell how my body will respond, even after all these years. Sometimes it will take the same activities quite well, and other times it will not. There seems to be no rhyme or reason. However, if I err on the side of caution than I cheat myself of the opportunity to thrive. If I overestimate my abilities, and have to deal with the outcome, it balances out for all those times when I made improvement.

I took meds and had to lie down until they took affect, before I could get up and function again. Well, this is the way it is. Sometimes the difficulties get me down. But, I am grateful to be able to be here, to walk, and to enjoy the little things in life.

Listening to San Jose Japanese Taiko on my IPOD, my walk lasted one hour.

Today I dedicate this walk to a long term survivor, Paula, from Australia who was
diagnosed with chondrosarcoma 1998 and underwent an internal hemipelvectomy.

She had an internal hemipelvectomy whereby she underwent a 10 hour operation to remove her tumor along with the bottom part of the pelvis, hip, pubic bone and quite a few muscles. A saddle prosthesis was implanted. After considerable physical therapy, and hydrotherapy she became mobile with just one elbow crutch.

Some surgeons suggest that after five years without recurrence a chondrosarcoma patient can be considered to be "cured". Well here's Paula having gone seven years before recurrence. Another member had recurrence 8 years later. Another, 11 years later. Dr. Eugene Mindell once told me that he knew of a case whereby Chondrosarcoma returned 30 years later. Even though these are exceptions to the rule, please, Doctors, watch what you say! And CS patients, I hope you will consider continuing to request check ups and scans long past the five year mark. It may save your life!

In September 2005 she had recurrence which necessitated further surgery to remove remaining pelvis along with the top part of the prosthesis. Further reconstructive surgery was aborted due to complications. Many complications after this included a chronic infection, blood transfusions, and 3 more surgeries to clean out and remove abcess. It also became necessary to have the remaining prosthesis removed. Paula now uses two elbow crutches to get around and her left leg is quite a lot shorter. She says she presently she does not suffer a lot from pain, unless she has walked too much. Then her hands, arms and shoulders get sore from the crutches. She occasionally gets pain in her right leg and back, but has learned to rest and it gets better.

She has children, one of which has mild cerebral palsy in which the left side of her body is affected including her arm and leg.

Paula says "I had to live!! Who was going to look after my children?"

I totally admire Paula's indomitable spirt. Though sometimes the struggle to be well can be difficult, she continues to be positive, and focuses on the things she can do rather than what she cannot.

"I can still play with my children, read to them, take them on outings (even if it takes me a bit longer and I have to have rest breaks!!) take them to school, take them to soccer or the things that "normal" mums do. I'm just happy to be alive and to be around to watch them grow up."

My sentiments exactly!

~~~~
Speaking rest breaks:

This is the third day with RUQ stomach pain. Today is the worst. It's the kind of pain that makes it senseless to take medication, unless it gets really bad, and in that case it is time for the ER. I must be passing a gall stone.
The stone just has to pass. Medication isn't appropriate. I have been through this before numerous times. You may be wondering why I don't get a cholecystectomy. I already did, some years ago. My gall duct has decided to morph into a substitute gallbladder, and I don't think they can take remove it. If anyone knows that they can, please let me know!!!

Curling up in bed with a good book, with my IPOD playing Armik, (ahhh...), cat comfort, a heating pad and staying hydrated is all I can do for now. I called my friend Mimi. She got me laughing, and it kept my mind off the pain.

So, needless to say, today was not a walking day.

Like many Chondrosarcoma patients, it is hard to believe one has cancer, at all. Chondrosarcoma is sneaky that way. Generally, there are no outward, obvious symptoms until it has grown quite a bit. No one is really prepared for a cancer diagnosis, but how does one handle hearing that one's jaw has to be completely removed!

Today is dedicated to a Canadian forester, Keith.


In 2003, Keith was a healthy young man of 29 years, and his tumor caused no pain of any sort. He had been under the impression that he always had that little lump there on his chin. But as time went by, others noticed, and commented on it. By the time he had realized it was more than nothing, the tumor had spread symmetrically, throughout most of the mandible.


He was referred to the Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto where doctors performed the surgery and reconstructed his jaw using his left fibula. The two surgeries in one left him with an arduous recovery, not only for his face, but for his leg. Once he was sufficiently healed he had 25 Intensity Modulated Radiation Therapy (IMRT) treatments.

After a couple of years and some significant loss to the vertical height of this graft, he had his right fibula added to the area as well.

One thing that has impressed me about Keith is his incredible wisdom, compassion for others with the same diagnosis, and sense of humor throughout his journey. He once wrote to the Chondrosarcoma Support Group:

"I think I still look pretty decent for a guy who has his leg where his jaw used to be. There are all kinds of (foot in mouth) jokes around this…

"I’ve gotten used to having my leg in my jaw, though some mornings I have a strange desire to put a sock on my chin. If we can’t laugh at ourselves, who can we laugh at?"

His doctors made a video. Take a look.

I have such admiration for the unique attitude Keith has regarding his experiences with Chondrosarcoma. It seems he doesn't consider himself a "cancer victim" and maybe not even a "cancer warrior". I get this impression because of something else he said:

“Dr. Irish and Dr. Gilbert and all the oncology nurses and the researchers are the ones battling cancer,” he says. “I’m just the battlefield.”

~~~
The mini van ride came to pick me up on time. It was crammed full of people. I got the last seat. After I arrived, I had a VNG test . Funny, I didn't get nauseated even though my tummy is giving me a hard time.

I have had the dizziness since last August. At least, that is when I became aware of it. The neuro Doc at UCSF assured me it has nothing to do with the lesion in my parietal lobe. But, since it has continued to bother me, and because I have allergies that have been exaserbated for as long, that was the next diagnostic step. The unofficial results of the VNG test show that my measurements are within normal range and probably not the cause of these episodes. So, back to step 1.

Speaking of steps, after the test was finished, I realized I had another half hour before the transportation would arrive. I took the opportunity to walk around the clinic, through a little woods, and over to my local (seizure care) neurologist's office to drop him a note, asking if he
might have some other suggestions as to causes. Then, I walked around those offices, which are very interesting, architecturally speaking. Many of the Santa Cruz medical doctor's offices throughout the city were designed by a Frank Lloyd Wright protege. Can recall his name at the moment.

It was nice to walk along some curvy pathways through a mini-woods. It beats hanging out in my own neighborhood all the time. I think if I plan things right, I will be able to do some more walks after appointments while waiting for the transportation. I will just have to find a way to get my tummy to be more agreeable, so I can put out more energy and work harder.

Today's walk was one half hour, without IPOD. The birds supplied the music.

Today, I honor and dedicate my walk to Zheng-yu Peng. He had Chondrosarcoma of the pelvis. Later on his diagnosis was changed to Mesenchymal Chondrosarcoma.

I was surprised when a research scientist joined the Chondrosarcoma group. I should not have been. Even doctors and scientists are not immune to bone cancer, or any other kind of cancer, for that matter. Originally, he came from mainland China. Well educated, he made his way to the top. He was Associate professor of Biochemistry at University of Connecticut Health Center and had his own research lab. This is where he made several significant discoveries, (along with his wife and colleagues).

See: Protein Folding

Some members of the chondrosarcoma group join, quietly introduce themselves and then remain quiet, passing each day reading the group emails, but never sharing, and then one day the relatives write in to say they are gone. This was not Peng. He participated, sharing his journey, giving words of support to others, sharing his wisdom and understandings, and enlightening the group. He taught us to search for documentation of those claims for cures that were being sent our way from dubious sources. He continued his research work while struggling with invasive surgeries, and debilitating treatments until nearly the end. In the two years he was a member of the Chondrosarcoma Support Group, he wrote 130 messages. Where did he find the time?

Peng sought out every possible form of medical treatment available for Chondrosarcoma the way a bull dog keeps a grip on his opponent. He researched the options, discussed his case with countless specialists, and got the best available. Even while he was in hospice we spoke on the phone about some new clinical trials that appeared to be promising that might benefit future members

When he died there were over 40 messages written within the group giving condolences, not to mention the private ones sent to his family. So many people loved him. We still miss you, Peng.

The world has lost a great mind.

Things have not changed much since I was first diagnosed 40 years ago. Why is there no effective treatment for Chondrosarcoma? Why is there no cure? Why is getting research funds for sarcomas so difficult? Just because sarcomas are rare? Just because there's no money to be made from medicines that could help? Why does it have to be this way?

~
Today, I realized, by looking at my calendar, this week is full of medical appointments. I managed to cancel the one I had for yesterday. I was on the phone most of the day working out my schedule with the ride program provided for those with disabilities and low income. (That's me.) I hate using this service. I always feel like there are others who need it worse than me. But, here I am, in need again. Can't cancel tomorrow's appointment. It has already been moved forward once before! Since they use a mini-bus, it is not so good on my loose pelvis, either.

Setting up ride appointments is nearly as complicated as setting up a round-trip flight to Vermont! Each ride needs to be measured in miles by the provider in order to determine what time I should be available to be picked up, and the same for when I return. I often push for an extra 15 minutes earlier and later. I would rather show up early for an medical appt. than later, and I would rather find myself waiting longer at the doctor's office after already having seen him or her. If the ride shows up at my house to take me, but it is late, I have no choice but to live with it, and show up late for my appt. However, if the ride comes on time, while I am still in with the doctor, then I am screwed. They leave!!! Then, another call has to be put into their dispatcher to send out another ride. This was not a pleasant thing in more than one circumstance in the past. Getting stranded more than 20 miles from home when the dispatch is closed, the sun is going down and the weather not so loving...well....there's the reason for my setting up things to my liking!

One must call ahead by four days and no longer than fourteen days. That's the window of opportunity to get a ride for medical appointments. I had to do some fast talking to get the dispatcher to agree to have someone pick me up tomorrow.

By the time, I finally got off the phone, dusk had fallen. I headed out for my walk and took my cellphone with me, which I forgot yesterday. Though I have been sick to my stomach all day, (nope, I am not going into the details) my IPOD kept me going at a better pace than yesteday.
I loaded some "trance dance" music on it, played it loud, and that kept me going. The last time I played it was back in 2001 which was the last time I could ride a stationary bike.
Mischa Daniels - Take Me Higher (Original Club Mix)

Kats called on my cell as I was heading back home. He was not very happy that I was "out alone in the dark". I truly think that my cavalier attitude about many risks I take in life are directly related to having had cancer. I was never so brazen in before bone cancer hit me. I have thought about this before, as my "double-daring" has been brought to my attention by those who were concerned about it. By now, it is second nature, and I don't really give it much thought. Back when I was dealing with the recurrences and so on, I had a philosophy that since cancer hadn't killed me, I wasn't going to worry about what else might do me in. I was quite willing to take the risk in order to "enjoy life to the fullest". After injuring myself a few times, (I mean, seriously!) I put a limit on foolish physical challenges. I didn't mind taking life-threatening risks, as they were and either/or situation in my eyes. Either it will kill me or it won't. If it doesn't, then I have done what I wanted to do, and had a good time. Just call me, Danger Girl! Where the risks were more heavy on the possibility of injury instead of death, I just didn't think the pain and suffering was worth it. What a deterrent! Risk-Benefit ratio of a sort, huh? To get to the point, Kats stayed on the cell with me until I entered my home. Since I still haven't found my pedometer, and don't know the mileage, I will just have to say, my walk lasted about 35 minutes.


Responding to comments:

Janine, David, Diane and I think I know who,

Thank you for reading and your support!

Yes, this old girl is back to the blog. Nothin's gonna keep me away.

Yes, I think the walking is improving my general health and stamina.

I do hope, so very much, that other sarcoma patients can benefit from the knowledge that this old girl is still here, and that they too can have the possibility of a future. I've even got great-grandchildren I never imagined!

Diane: So, now I know who has been following me! I thought it was just the cat! I like to think I am not alone in my walks, and here you all are! I know there is a song called, "Me and My Shadow". I think I will have to find it and put it on my IPOD.

He's got Sarcoma and the cure rate is abysmal. His chances are less than slim. Do you believe in miracles? Here's the opportunity. Let's have one.

Is the world is losing a valuable diamond? Gaze upon some of the clarity before it is gone.

Quoting Miles Levin
October 17, 2006….

“If my struggle with cancer galvanizes actions of goodness, I can rest assured that even if I succumb to the rogue cells, I will leave behind a legacy of victory. Dying is not what scares me, it’s dying having had no impact. I know a lot of eyes are watching me suffer; and---win or lose---this is my time for impact. If all is naught but random atoms in the void, then that would explain a lot, like Darfur and why I wound up with alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma; but if there be a purpose, then this is my hour. I have tried my best to show what it is to persevere, and what it means to be strong.”

2007 "Those words are something different now. They came true."

I have mentioned him before in a dedication. I know there are thousands of people now following his blog; all his friends from school, and surely those he doesn't know from school. His family, their friends, and friends' friends. This includes the media, and those who have found his story to have touched them. There are so many, many who are inspired by his journey.

All I can say is that if you are not on the bandwagon of Mile's "fans", you are missing the most valuable lesson in your life. The lesson of how to get through the tough stuff, how to communicate with your own soul, how to know who you are, even when you feel like you don't. How to keep on living when everything you ever knew, everything by which you ever measured yourself has been stripped away. And how to take the loss, and grief and sadness and make it work for you so it is okay to those have those feelings without being a martyr, without having shame, without regret for what you don't have.

Well, I could go on and on, but I just hope you will take the time to learn who is Miles Levin, and what does he have to do with your life.

Then, ponder why research for Sarcomas is so limited.

The best source to learn about Miles is his Carepage Blog. But you will need to sign up. No big thing. Just create a user name and ID.

~
Jet lag! I didn't really know what that meant until today. Is it late in hitting me? I feel like I am dragging the jet behind me. My walk is slow and laborious. (or is it laborous?) Didn't have much energy for walking, but did it anyway. The cat followed me halfway. That's Cinnamon. She really belongs to my neighbor, but has moved in with me and my 17 year old calico. Her real mother doesn't mind. We are sharing her. It was nice to have Cinnamon walk with me, though she is young and has the energy to run circles around me. She went back after I turned to go around the back of our neighborhood. The breeze was brisk and invigorating, so by the time I got that far I made up my mind to go further down Bridge St towards Mount Madonna. It's a nice view from here, but no goal for me at this time! I think I did about a mile today.

As can happen with Sarcomas, not only can there be misdiagnosis, but discrepancy even when it is recognized as a sarcoma. This is no fault of the medical professionals. Sarcomas are frequently very difficult to diagnose. An example of this is Brian.

He was first diagnosed with Chordoma. His golfball sized tumor was surgically removed by way of Transphenoidal Surgery in February of 2005. Further, a craniotomy was performed the following month.


Because Chordoma and Chondrosarcoma have similarities in appearance on scans as well as on the cellular level, it took a second opinion on the biopsy to have a clear diagnosis. It turned out to be Chondrosarcoma.

Since there was a remnant of the tumor not able to be removed without serious damage to Brian's optic nerve, he was referred to Boston for Proton Beam Radiation

Brian has recovered well since then, and recently participated in a Marathon in Vancouver BC. He raised over four thousand dollars for the National Brain Tumor Foundation. ( I hope I can do as well for Team Sarcoma.) His run was quite inspiring.

A quote I like from Brian is:
"life is a gift. surprising that i still struggle to remember that, but it's true"



~

Looks like I will do a lot more walking from now on. My car died on the highway coming home today. Got towed and now it sits in my driveway, a testament to the long life of a 1987 turbocharged Dodge. Oh well. At least I have fairly reliable transportation to medical appointments, provided by an outside source. Since I have been venturing out so much lately with my walking, it doesn't seem as daunting to not have a car. At least now I feel more secure that I can actually walk a distance without such extreme exhaustion or pain. There are a couple little stores within a mile or so. If I need something I can
always walk!

This afternoon, I walked over to the nearest Grocery Store. Felt an earthquake, by the way. It wasn't much, though. But, I was able let go of my disappointment in my car's demise while listening to Johannes Linstead and Esteban on my IPOD. Their music soothed my own internal "tremblars" while keeping my walk even and at a reasonable pace.

I didn't count my steps. (Where is that durned pedometer anyways?) But, Google maps gave me a round trip of 1.4 miles. Not too long ago, I had to drive to the store, use their complementary wheelchair shopping cart to get around, and drive back home. Honestly, I am a bit proud that I can manage better. Though I cannot run, Brian has had a good influence on me!

Today's dedication is for two long-term Chondrosarcoma survivors, James and Genevieve Deane, the parents of a young woman who had an internal hemipelvectomy and seven recurrences throughout eleven years.

Those people are my parents. My father died at the age of 90, eighteen months ago. My mother died at age 85, six months ago.

Mom sat by my bedside on a hard chair many hours a day. They didn't have luxury accommodations for "visitors" back in those days. They weren't expected to stay, in fact. She was dressed appropriately uncomfortable for a woman her age back then. (Just picture a newer version of Scarlet O'hara, including high heels.) She stayed with me beyond visiting hours, which was against the rules. So was having anyone under the age of 18 visit a patient. But, Mom dared to defy, by bringin my little brother and sister in to see me a few times, too.

Thank you, Dr. Mindell, for taking up her side in the matter.

Dad worked long hours on his job, and was threatened with losing it when he made the decision to come see me in the hospital. I was there from January until June. Recovery took a long time back then. They didn't get me up to walk as they didn't think I would. I had lots of complications, too.

I never knew Dad's boss told him his job would NOT be waiting for him when he got back, until just a few years ago. Dad walked out and took his chances, and still managed to keep his job. During the time I was in the hospital, I lost half my body weight, and wasn't interested in eating anything. Dad knew not to pressure me to eat. He just brought in a Hot Fudge Sundae for his own snack, and ate it in front of me! It wasn't long before I was begging for a taste. From that time on, his visits included my decadent nutritional supplement!!!

My parents once told me that I wasn't the only one with Cancer, and I didn't understand, until I founded the Chondrosarcoma Support Group. Now, I get it. Not only did they, and the rest of my loved ones, have cancer, but we are all survivors, too.

Sarcoma has forever changed our lives. Not for the worse, (though they did seem like the worst of times) but for the better. It drew us together in ways that only the years could tell. It gave us all an awareness of a strength and solidarity that we didn't know we had. We all grew together in ways we could never have foreseen. Best of all, Mom and Dad's prayers were answered.... that all their children got to outlive them.

I just returned from a week in Texas, to attend my parents' belated memorial service. They would have smiled about that. Our family motto is "Better Late than Never".

~
On Friday, May 11, I was in bad shape, barely able to walk. I called the pain specialist who gives me an epidural every once in a while. It beats giving up and wheeling about. I knew I would need help so that I might be able to handle the flight, the memorial, the family get-together and the return. However, no appointment was available. Thank heavens my regular doctor thought to order Prednisone for me to take internally. It worked. By Sunday night when my son came to pick me up, I was walking pretty good.

I made it through the airport without a wheelchair. I managed sitting in the plane without severe pain. When changing planes, I tired out from the long walk with my carry-on bag over my shoulder. My son had his, plus my laptop on his shoulder and finally took mine away from me too. Fortunately we found a shuttle. Dallas is one big airport!

I didn't take my pedometer with me. I figured my walking would definitely be increased without my having to count steps or keep track of time or mileage. I most definitely walked a lot every day. Sometimes, it was tiring, but I think the Prednisone helped considerably.

My sister made all the arrangements for the memorial service and it was beautiful. Why did we wait until now to have the memorial? This week would have been my parents 70th wedding anniversary. So, it was not just about their deaths, it was about the survival of their long-standing Love.


Visiting with family was so healing. Mom and Dad are gone, but we can go on now. It truly did bring completion to the grieving process. We were able to celebrate the fact that, if our parents were there, they would have enjoyed every minute with us. We had a great family "geek-together". Yes, I am not the only nerd in the family. My sis does family photos. Her hubby works for Dell, my brother has his peripherals business, and my son works in the video game field. (Every young man's dream!) Can you guess from the picture which one is which?

I learned a couple valuable lessons from the flight experience that will help prepare me further for the Team Sarcoma event in July. I had two seizures, (complex partial) even though I was on proper dosage of medicine. One time I was in an airport. Though I originally had trepidation in making the decision to be in Vermont, I know I can manage way better than I thought. I'm glad I had this dry run, to help me to be more ready come summer.

The valuable lessons I learned?

• Drink more water to avoid dehydration
• Carry granola bars or something to munch on in case there's no time for a meal.
  
• Wear a medic-alert bracelet in the future.
• Increase my seizure medication dosage before I begin to travel, not after.
• Research what the airline policies are regarding passengers with seizure disorders.
• Accept use of the wheelchair to conserve energy and ability to function in the long run.
  
• Put the laptop inside the carry-on, not separately.
  
• Absolutely, do not take any carry-on luggage that doesn't have wheels!!!

At home now, my pain levels are well controlled. My physical abilities are not hampered. Though a little tired, I am ready to continue.

.

I dedicate this walk today to Hank.

Coincidences happen. Carl Jung called them synchronicity and attributed a sort of mystical quality to them. I have had three coincidences today.

1. My brother's dog. (see below)

2. A dog article entitled: Life As A Dog Means Faster Mutations that showed up in my email box.

3. The dog about whom I accidentally learned in someone else's blog.

Her name was Hank.... a pseudonym for Hannabelle. She was a Chocolate Labrador Retriever diagnosed with Histiocytic Sarcoma in 2005. Radiation treatment helped to shrink the tumors for a while. But then, treatment was followed by chemo in Feb 2006. In a very short time Hank was gone.

Hank's final message

"Just throw the ball for me one more time. But not too far. Just one more time."

My brother called to tell me that Tuffy died.

After darn near tripping over him every time I stayed overnight at my brother's house I realized that Tuffy thought it was his duty protect me. Or maybe it was to protect the house from this intruder? I prefer to believe the first. I'll miss him.

I know my brother is going to miss Tuffy. No more pulling cactus needles out of his muzzle!

But, I suspect that Molly may miss him more. They used to lie together touching paws as they slept. Now, who will she touch paws with?

(He's the chubby masculine one on the right. Molly is the pretty feminine one on the left.)

Just throw the ball for me one more time. But not too far. Just one more time.

Walked my own neighborhood again. At almost four dollars a gallon, I'm not wanting to drive even ten miles and back for a scenic place to walk. With the gas mileage of my 1987 Turbocharged Dodge, that would be eight bucks to just go for a walk! Certainly not on SS disability income! Feeling frugal today, I guess! I know myself well enough that I will probably turn around and splurge some other time.

Well, I did meet a special goal! Remember when I said I had dreamed I wanted to make it all the way up to the Buddhist Temple? I did it!

I listened to Yanni and War. What a mix, huh? I forget the Yanni album I listened to on the way. Coming back, it was War (The World is a Ghetto). I needed that extra push. Lots of roses in bloom today. It was tempting to stop and smell them on behalf of all those critters who like to smell things.

I really think that my pedometer is worthless! I know I walked further today than I did yesterday, but today it claims 2831 steps. (and yesterday the pedometer made it seem phenomenal.

Truly, I wonder if I should continue to count, as it seems counterproductive. Just like stepping on a scale everyday and noticing the biological fluctuations of body weight. It's confusing.

Today's dedication is to a brilliant man of many talents. A biomedical scientist, researcher and educator,


David was diagnosed with an aggressive form of Chondrosarcoma.

It took one year and one day from his diagnosis to his passing. In accordance to his wishes his memorial was observed with a New Orleans style celebration.

“David didn’t want a funeral.... he wanted a party.”



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What an awesome day! No pain today, no soreness. I must have had that infection longer than I thought I did! What a little antibiotic can do to bring up one's spirits. Huh? Who woulda thunk it? (If only they had such medicines when my grandmother had appendicitis!)

Sun shining, cool breeze. Today was a no brainer. (Didn't want to leave the neighborhood as Cinnamon had gotten out. I wanted to keep an eye out for her.) I just went out that door with my pinkies on, walked down the street, around the corner, around the block, and back, listening to my IPOD. (Bobby McFerrin - Simple Pleasures) Kept up a pretty good pace. About halfway had to slow down a bit, then glad to get home. Still no Cinnamon! Even the blue jays didn't know where she was.

Later, went out again. This time with Locos Bravos - Mandala. Not such an exuberant long walk as earlier. But, mello is good. Still no Cinnamon!

She finally came home just in time for the brooms to start flying. Oh, you know....the witching hour!

What a difference a little good music makes. 4221 steps

Today, I dedicate my walk to Marty. I remember him on the phone. He asked all the right questions, was very logical and wanted to succeed where others had failed. I don't have a picture of him, nor was I able to find one on the web. So, I am putting a pic of the school in his home town. You will see why later.

Marty was born with Hereditary Multiple Exostoses. (like me) That means many benign cartilage bone tumors. People with this condition have a higher percentage of getting bone sarcomas.

In 1999 he was diagnosed with Chondrosarcoma of the rib cage - (left chest wall) resulting in surgery to remove ribs and tumor.

2003 recurrence and another surgery in 2003 Thoracic surgeries for CS can be quite difficult.

2004 another recurrence noted in August.

After much shopping around to find qualified surgeons to take care of his complicated case, he went to one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. He had a myriad of tests and it was determined surgery would be performed. But when the Thoracic surgeon opened him up, he closed him without doing any surgery. It was determined there could be nothing more to do and his time was limited.

Very discouraged, he went home and, upon the advice of his doctors, signed up for Hospice. He wanted to spend time with his family and friends, rather than traipse all over the country hunting down a doctor who would make the cut. But, Marty continued to feel well and signed out of hospice. So he began alternative treatments, which made his general health feel better but his tumor continued to grow. Marty continued on another 6 months

Marty was a High School Teacher, beloved by his family, students and his community. He was a loving, caring man and held a positive note interlaced with his faith to get him and his family through 6 years with Chondrosarcoma.
~~~~~~~~~~
This morning awakened with fever, infection and inflammation. Won't go into the details of the first two. Just bear with me, it is related to the missing part of my pelvis, and doesn't happen very often any more. I went to the doctor and got some meds to clear it up.

The inflammation, on the other hand, is Oral Lichen Planus. I do not have a mild case of it.

Just the same, I was able to walk around the halls at the doctor's office, while waiting to be called in. Then, went to the Watsonville Hospital to pick up my prescriptions, and walked the halls there while waiting.

Though I wasn't feeling good, it was better than sitting there in the doctor's office paging through old magazines, or standing in line at the pharmacy. I gave them my cell number and asked them to call when they were ready for me. Maybe that is why I had more stamina for walking. I am so spoiled, I guess.

I liked walking inside because it was air conditioned!

This part of California had record breaking temps today over the 90's. Well, I guess So. Cal. is having the same, but that is normal for them. Very sad about the brushfires. My sister used to live in the area that is being decimated.

I managed to do 2678 steps today.

Today is dedicated to a miraculous little girl who has survived against the odds with three different cancers in nine short years.

Isn't she adorable?

At age four months Krista was diagnosed with Malignant Choroid Plexus Carcinoma a very rare type of brain cancer. She had surgery, then a clinical trial of 3 different chemo drugs, taken for 2 years. Then again later treated with Surgery, Chemo, another surgery.

A few years later she was then diagnosed with a different kind of brain tumor: a Malignant Small Cell Neoplasm or Medulloblastoma. More surgery, more chemo plus radiation this time.

Now, just recently Krista is diagnosed with Malignant Fibrous Histiocytoma, a form of Bone Sarcoma. Another rare cancer. It is unknown just yet what her treatment will be.

Her mother once asked her, "If everyday could be a holiday what would you want it to be?" Krista said, "My birthday!"

Why don't you drop in to her site? Then, you can sign her guest book and wish her a happy birthday... today... every day... or on May 15th. That's Krista's tenth birthday.

I had a shrink's appointment today. I see a real shrink, ( M.D. Ph.D. ) He's the best in the county. I have known him longer than I've known Katsumi.

Among other things, like how am I doing balancing all my meds, we discussed Team Sarcoma. I gave him a printed sheet of information on Sarcomas.

They are rare.
They are less than 1% of all Adult Cancers, and about 20% of all childhood cancers.
There is very little research funding for Sarcomas.
Team Sarcoma is about Sarcoma Awareness and raising funds for Sarcoma Research in the best way possible. Low overhead, large percentage of funds (97%) goes to directly to research.

Guess what!!! He gave me a check to sponsor me!

If you want to do the same:

Go here.

Print out the form, fill it out, and mail it. You will receive a tax deductible receipt. If you have to do it by credit, instructions are on the bottom of the form.

Please make sure you put my name, ( Elizabeth Munroz ) in the slot that says, "name of person you are sponsoring". I don't get anything for having you do that, except a little bit of a swelled head. There's a certain satisfaction that I can finally do something to "pay back" for the years, and I mean, Years, when I had Chondrosarcoma growing in my pelvis. It heals my soul to be able to do this.

Thank you for your sponsorship.

Thank you for reading my blog, sharing it with others, and offering your support by way of comments.

Oh, since my doctor's office is located in downtown Santa Cruz, I decided to do my walk there. I didn't wear my pedometer because it wouldn't work while wearing it on my dress.

Today's walk was up one side and down the other, one mile total.

My only regret was that I had not worn my pink skechers walking shoes. So, when I got home it was rest and pain pills. I took tylenol and aspirin both. Don't like to mix the two, but it was that or another half a Dilaudid. Not worth it. Once I rested I was okay.

The picture is of the end of the street from across from the clock tower. The foreground is a lovely little garden where one can sit and relax outside the Jamba Juice. But, if you look beyond you might notice a space between two buildings and fencing with a No Trespassing sign. This is the very last hole in the ground left over from the Loma Linda Earthquake of 1989. You probably heard of it, and associated it with San Francisco buildings and bridge and freeway collapse. But, Since Santa Cruz was closer to the Epicenter we lost the whole downtown! All of it has been rebuilt over the years except this one last hole, 17 years later.

Today goes to the dogs!

I had someone else in mind for today's dedication, but I must dedicate it to 8 year old, Lord Shoobington who was diagnosed March of 2004 with Orbital Chondrosarcoma. After his original successful surgery and radiation at Cornell University Hospital for Animals, Shoob later enrolled in a clinical trial when lung mets occurred This consisted of cisplatin and calsitrol (vitamin D). He handled it like a trooper, but this did not stop the tumor growth. His lung mets have increased in size. His activity level has so far been like a normal golden retriever at his age. Shoob still enjoys hiking through his favorite Pennsyvania hills and woodlands. I think Shoob probably has the same positive philosophy we could all adopt. Enjoy the sun, the trees, the grass, and stop to smell (the roses) along the way!

Dog Day Afternoon

Kats and I drove Hiway 1 going south and stopped in Carmel at the Crossroads Shopping Village for lunch. It has grown considerably since we were last there some years