On the Trails Again (Should be a Song)

It was cold, just twenty four degrees but with the absence of wind it was quite comfortable to join my trail group Sunday morning for the first officially “sanctioned” trail run since surgery. The main group would run eleven to thirteen miles with large hills thrown into the mix. I, along with a couple others, would be content with some seven plus miles. Finishing an hour or so ahead of the main group, I decided to “spoil” them one more time with Hot Apple Cider and treats after the completion of their run.

A day earlier I provided an aid station at Hamburg road for a small group of runners running the Catoctin 50K course. (The Winter CAT). They could not of had better weather, no snow on the trails with temperatures in the thirties and forties during their run. While I would have preferred to be running I was content to help.

Saturday evening the annual Steeplechaser Banquet was held. I was honored with the Anderer Award which recognizes service and contribution to the running club. I knew I was going to receive the award even though I protested to the awards committee that my “service” to the club was simply too much fun to justify such an honor.

What I didn't know was that I would also be recognized along with two other runners, Beverly Black, who has recovered from a bad stroke and Rick O'Donnell who is dealing with Cancer a second time. Rick has been a true inspiration to me; his cancer is being managed with little chance today of a total cure. He has perhaps the best outlook on life among all I know and lives each day to the fullest.

As I received each of my awards I would return to Susan amidst many high fives and hugs. The amount of love, compassion and support from my fellow runners and my wife almost started a torrent of water works which I would have found difficult to control if it had started.

The only negative aspect of the evening were multiple trips to the men's room, followed by minutes of barefoot walking along Carroll Creek to cool off burning feet.

My recovery crawls along, emphasis on the crawling part. It seems that my body has settled into a three or four day routine wherein I feel pretty darn good followed by a difficult twenty four to thirty hour period. I have not been able to connect the pattern with diet, activity or sleep and hope I will settle into a more predictable routine sooner rather than later.

On February 17^th I am planning on participating in the American Cancer Society's “Relay For Life”, which will be held at Mount Saint Mary's College. The Relay Director has approached me about being the Opening Speaker at this years event. I will have to decide quickly, I'm just not sure I could keep myself together speaking about my journey while it is so fresh.

Keep Smiling, Stay Happy...... Mike

Telemarkerter Timing

I am beginning to wonder if I am being monitored due to our proximity to Camp David. It may well be that I am simply paranoid but I doubt it's coincidence that for the past few days, when I require the office throne, when no one else is available, the phone will ring.

If there is a monitor, you can sense the diabolical nature of the "handler" as he calculates my  approach to the bathroom. "Subject, twenty seconds from pants down, prepare to let the telemarketers through. Four, Three, Two and One commence." 

Meanwhile as you might guess there is nothing less wanted then a phone call in this state, but it may be a client, up I will jump. "Subject done with call, seeking relief, thirty seconds to pass through next telemarketer".

"Hello Mr. O'Grady this is John from Family Films", John says.....  John I think, how appropriate. "John, our kids have grown up and hopefully will move out of the house in the next few years. We enjoyed your movies when they were seven, why don't you call back in ten years or fifteen years, when we may have Grand-kids" I also think, "perhaps I may be senile and enjoy them anyway" , CLICK".

Back at central control the "handler" wonders how many more I can endure before I crack.

Ring, Ring, Ring.............
You have got to be kidding me.
Hello, all I hear on the other end is the sound of a hundred voices, my caller, sitting behind a Robo Dial does not have a chance to say a first word, CLICK !

The "handler" now get really nasty. "We'll Pass through an actual customer, pants down in five, four, three, two one".

Ring.

Oh My God, you have got to be kidding me.

I am so beat down I waddle out with ankle hugging undergarments to answer the phone. This time it's a client with a question about a forty dollar order. Of course this order is most important and must ship out Monday, she needs me to email a tracking number and make sure that everything is perfect.I am polite but I'm thinking that if anything drops out on the way back to the bathroom she may have a surprise in her box next week.

Back on the throne the phone rings again and the fact that I did not get up, I imagine five times is my breaking point.

I am getting stronger and better even if I have some bumps along the way.

Mike

Staples Removed / Cleared To Run

Today marks yet another small step towards recovery, my surgical staples have been removed ! The process was a snap with only one staple having sting as it was pulled. The area is sore but I am much more comfortable then I had been.

Susie came along with me I'm sure because she was concerned that I would filter out Dr. Berg's words to hear only what I wanted to hear. So what did we hear today; only that I am cleared to resume running and all other activities. (Within Reason)

I wore my Brilliant Yellow Terrapin Mountain run shirt to the appointment for good luck and apparently it paid off, seeing how I had already registered for this years half marathon trail run at the end of March.

I could not be happier, my head is swimming with all I want to do.

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On other matters, my healing continues even if at a rate slower than I would like. The problems with my hands and feet still plague me requiring me to have both feet sticking out of the covers in our mostly unheated bedroom. I also get relief from walking barefoot on our front porch, I especially like it when there is just a slight film of snow so I can track my melted footsteps as I move from one end to another.

Most of the pain pills I received after surgery are being used to assist sleep as I lay down with hands buzzing and feet burning with fire. I don't need them every evening, only after I have been active during the day with a walk or run, it is the “price” the “retribution” mandated by the chemo.

Dee, my Reiki Care Giver, asked me at my last session if I would be interested in taking a class she will be giving sometime in the near future. Though I don't have a clue how Reiki works I do know it has done me a world of good so I will be taking the class when it is available.

Finally, in my own moment of joy I am reminded of the the hardships of life. In the waiting room was a young man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. It was his first time to see Dr. Berg; (Quite frankly if your there to see Dr. Berg something serious is going on). As he sat in the waiting room he seemed to sink lower and lower into the chair, looking completely despondent. I tried to start a conversation but he was either in no mood or perhaps just numb with what was ahead of him. It was then I appreciated the personality I was given or forged during my life; even in my darkest moments I don't think I looked so terrible. We would, of course, have to ask Susie to be sure.

Mike

Perception, Meet Reality

Sometimes, it's amazing the difference between perception and reality.

I promise not to focus on my “Potty Training” for all my future blog posts but for now it's a rather controlling force of life.

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Last night, my children, Beverly and I had planned a nice dinner for Susan's birthday, Chinese food, carrot cake (her favorite), sparkling wine, flowers and presents. Since I have been having issues with my feet after walking I decided to skip my afternoon walk to be one hundred percent for the evening festivities. What I hadn't factored in was the treatment I would receive from regions “North of DA Feet”.

For some reason my bathroom requirements have more necessary in the evenings then in the mornings, this evening would border on the the ridiculous. My sessions started off innocently enough later afternoon with no hint that they would soon be required every fifteen to twenty minutes as evening approached.

As time passed, the perception that I had just passed the Rock of Gibraltar was met with the reality that “Bunny Foo Foo” could have laid down a bigger marker. Fire flowed from the depths of hell to the point that even the baby wipes presented no relief.

Sorry, I digress, but while I'm on the subject of baby wipes, those who know me can testify to my skills with Photoshop. In every bathroom of my house and office you can find a package of baby wipes bearing a lovely picture of a woman cradling an adorable baby. It is a comforting picture, yet in my darkest bathroom moments the devil is trying to convince me to replace it with a photo of a balding middle age man, tears steaming out of his eyes as fire shoots from the throne below. Temptation has almost won out.

Where was I, oh yea, Susan's birthday dinner.

Like Custer's last stand I made a valiant effort to make it through dinner, standing up of course. After too many trips back and forth, I made my apologies and off to bed I headed. Laying down felt good but did not help the frequency of visits. Soon, sitting on the throne I heard voices raised in song and joined in with my grunt loaded rendition of Happy Birthday.

I don't feel a bit sorry for myself, instead I'm grateful that I'm here knowing that each day may present it's own challenges but I will meet them knowing I will prevail, one day laughing about it all. At this second in time I don't want to laugh too hard as it might just shake something loose.

Keep Smiling, keep your sense of humor ................. Mike

Stools in the Pool

Rounding that corner towards sixty one does not expect to speak about “Poo” except perhaps when discussing the adventures of potty training or explosive diapers emulating from grand kids. Even then, as a guy, I would have thought I would have simply been nodding as the ladies of the family discussed and reminisced these adventures.

Following the twenty four hours of Volcanic activity starting this past Tuesday night, ending early Thursday morning, an eerie calm descended upon the landscape. Perhaps, Freedrick, exhausted from the rage he put forth after banishment was content to be part of the system instead of a main player. Though the calm was nice it stated becoming a worry by Sunday morning when no further action had been noted.

Most Sunday mornings, by design I'll head down to the trail head at Hamburg Road to run with my trail group. Even if I'm not running I'll typically head down to chat and see who showed up. This Sunday was no different but as the group headed out in eighteen degree temperatures I thought how good a hot cup of apple cider might taste after the run. Since I not supposed to drive I asked Sue if she would go to the Weis to get some cider with me.

Perhaps it was the walking around or the stress of being in public away from my own bathroom that worked but by the time I got home I ran, rephrase, waddled, to the house with butt cheeks clenched tightly. Minutes later, with more effort then I imagined my “Prize” awaited, small yet solid, my first “Duty”.

I am so at ease with my running friends that I'll tell them anything so an hour and a half later, while handing out hot cups of apple cider I mentioned my adventure. High fives and slaps on the back followed with some jokes as well. The title of this post came from Craig one of my running buddies.

Since Sunday morning not much going on until last night when I went through a most unpleasant eight hour stretch. This is going to be a process that shall take time but it will get better every day. If I'm “upset” with anything it's that the neuropathy has returned, yesterday after just a two mile walk my feet burned and sessions on the throne sent my hands and feet “a buzzing”.

On the bright side, I've just signed up for my first race of 2012, the Terrapin Mountain half trail marathon. This was the only “distance” race I ran last year and hence it is appropriate to be my first recovery race. The race is held at the end of March so I should have enough time to get some training in, I realize I may not be in top shape but I am excited never the less.

Much to do........ Much to look forward too................ Much to be excited about

Mike

Thousand Hot Tamales.

WARNING, THIS POST HAS SOME GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF RECENT EVENTS. DON'T READ ON IF YOU DON'T HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR.

“Mike, You're Going to Have a Couple of Rough Days, Get some Desitin and Baby Wipes”, were the words of Dr. Berg as he visited with me Tuesday morning.

As far as days go, Tuesday was simply splendid, I was feeling good even though the “on demand” pain medication had been removed. Pain medication was available in a pill form if I requested it but I simply did not feel I needed it.

Sue had spent the night with me and sometime early afternoon she left and Mother took watch over me. Between an occasional nodding off I spent several special hours of important conversations with Mom. I am grateful for those hours, they were special.

As the afternoon passed along there were rumblings from “down below” that the beast was awakening. After surgery the nurses would place stethoscopes along my belly to listen for the beast but now the rumblings and grumblings were loud enough that I swear the woman in the next room was ready to yell “Shut Up ! “

Early evening arrived with the return of Sue, My Kids, Father and a surprise visit by Larry Key. I felt great, perhaps pumped up by the presence of friends and family yet somewhat apprehensive since I knew the “beast” was going to awaken from his sleep soon.

I made it; for everyone left, excepting Sue, before my first trip to the bathroom !

Who knows what to expect after so many months of inactivity? It wasn't much, and in a strange way I was disappointed.

Round two was a different story; leaving my bed with the IV stand I moved with the speed and precision of a NASCAR crew ready change tires and refuel their car. Positioned solidly on the throne I started to pass gas, not just a little, but an amount that legends are borne on. On and on it went until, at wits ends, I just started laughing as it continued. At one point I thought, “This isn't too bad.”

For those who don't know the O'Grady men, there has always been a childlike fascination with this digestive aspect of life. As a “Younger” man I can remember the formula....... Meat, Eggs,Beer and High Fat Ice Cream to prepare for a “Brothers Road Trip”. Pity the fool who had no window privileges

when we drove in a pickup truck with a single bench seat.

Three times a charm? Where the heck does that phrase come from? I like to know because for me it was no charm.

With the third visit to the bathroom reality set in, immediately set in. Imagine that someone just thew acid down there. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if it happened quickly but each session seemed to last for three to ten minutes, just when you thought you might be done, surprise, your not.

As the evening progressed the story was essentially the same, yet as bad as it might have been I was proud that I maintained control with no accidents ................. until. I'm not sure what time it may have been but Sue decided to head down to the coffee shop. Laying in bed by myself I nodded off only to awaken with an urgent requirement to sprint to the bathroom. I am happy to say my cat like reflexes resulted in me missing me the bed. With the exception of the bed, I managed to leave a trail of sludge and blood that covered the floor, legs, gown and socks. I know I should have called the Hospital staff but instead I grabbed paper towels and cleaned up as best I could. My gown and socks were discarded and a shower from the waist down cleaned me up. This would be my only accident.

The night was a slow torture with a bathroom trip required every hour or so, the discomfort was tolerable but highly unpleasant. It was the night of a thousand hot tamales.

Mike

Surgery

Surgery went well, the fact that somewhere along the way I herniated myself made Dr. Berg's job just a bit easier. Looking back, I remember a “tug” and some pain around the area of the stoma while splitting firewood. Instead of this being a negative it worked in my favor with an operation that should have taken about two hours ending up just being forty five minutes.

Don't worry, I won't be splitting firewood anytime soon.

Early Tuesday morning Dr. Berg came in to check on me, I was feeling pretty good especially since I managed to avoid getting a Foley bag when taking a pee became difficult. (A hot lap around the ward helped to solve that problem). Doc is a no nonsense kind of guy and after seeing how good I was doing he just looked at me and said, “Mike, you're going to have a couple of rough days”.

My belly, when not covered with a bandage looks like a smile with a full complement of braces.

It's Gametime

We'll guys there are no bottles of beer left on the wall, game time is finally here.

With a giant hug I put Maggie on the school bus and shall return to the house to get ready as soon as this post is completed.

I opted not to run on Saturday as I found out it was the last day of hunting season, instead I wrestled with one of the two logs I intend to turn into a bench. After finally getting it into position I had to enlist the help of Patrick for the final placement. That was followed by wood splitting and chores outside.

Later in the evening we enjoyed a "September" bonfire in January. What a great evening, at Ten O'clock when we were finished, I'm sure the temperature still had to be in the mid forties, a sure bonus for January.  

Sunday I ran three miles without my feet burning up! They got a little bit tender near the end of the run but it was not an issue. I am optimistic that this signals that the side effects of the chemo are waning so that when I am able to start running again that may be a non issue.

Mom and Dad will be heading this way later today and Kevin will be taking care of the office, with Susan by my side today I'm sure all will go well.

Time to go all, God Bless.

Mike  

I

Two Bottles of Beer

Pockets of warm and cold air blew into my face as I ran past the half frozen pond just a half mile from my house. It was a highly unusual January day as evidenced by both Tee Times and Ski passes being issued at one of our local resorts; certainly a day I could not pass up for running.

The plan was for a three and a half mile loop, my feet felt good and I left hopeful that I'd cover the distance before my feet caught fire. I made it two and a half but even so it was a sort of victory, my feet, burning hot recovered quickly and were not nearly as bad as my New Years Day run. Today the weather is once again unusually warm so I will try again.

The wind blowing in my face brought forefront the memory of the morning Reiki session. Perhaps ten minutes into the session the background music sounded reminiscent of a small mountain bird that I have heard thousands of times every season of the year in the Adirondacks. Soon, I was transported there, sitting on the summit of Mt Joe gazing down at Heart Lake and beyond to the high peaks. I was alone, watching the clouds roll up and over Wright Peak, fixated upon the simplicity and beauty of it all. It seemed as though minutes had passed when I was joined by Kevin and Patrick, a memory from the first time we had climbed Mt Joe.  Soon they disappeared leaving me along again gazing out at the scene before me. It was quite a moment but what happened next simply left me hardly able to contain myself , I was no longer alone, standing next to me was my father, in his prime, a memory of him from when I was a kid. We did not exchange any words, simply looked out over the mountains and then as quick as it started it was over. Fifteen or so minutes later, my session over, I cried and cried again later when I told Sue what I had experienced. By letting “myself let go” and with the help of Dee and Lorett I was given a gift that even now chokes me up as I write about it.

I would be lying to say that I'm not nervous about what is to come on Monday but at the same time I'm ready to get on with my life. Recovery may take some time but if nothing else I have learned patience to a degree I have never known before.

Ninety eight bottles of beer on the wall ago it seemed forever, chemotherapy seemed forever, six months of wearing a bag seemed forever but in the context of an entire life it has passed quickly. 

Two bottles of beer on the wall left and I probably will drink both of them this evening when we are having a family camp fire.

I am Thankful for so much, I love the life I've had and what I will have.

Mike

Felling Trees - Recovery

Last night I went to bed at eight P.M., thinking it was much later. Even though I have been off chemotherapy for a month now I still find that when my “Batteries” wear down it's time to head off for bed regardless of time. New Years Eve I made it to eleven forty five when my body told me “Time To Shut It Down”.

New Years Day was busy for me; I started at eight in the morning cutting down a beautiful old dead oak tree. The combination of Gypsy Moths, Old Oak Borers and a Root Fungus has killed and weakened most of my oaks, in time I suspect that only a few will remain. An hour of cutting was followed with a New Years Day run. I would like to say that I enjoyed myself, I did get personal satisfaction, but after a few hundred yards both feet were “On Fire” and my run was over after two miles. Standing at the finish, I got a number of people asking me if I was into barefoot running since I was standing there barefoot. (Simply an attempt to quell the burning fire)

Returning home I went back to my tree for some more cutting, splitting and hauling until it started to rain. I “piddled” in the office a while trying to get organized, catching some football until the rain stopped. Back at my tree, I swung the maul at a very large and stubborn log until I realized my heart was pounding and I was breathing like a race horse; Lord it felt good! Eventually the maul struck with a hollow thud indicating the log had yielded to my efforts.

So last night, when my body said enough, it was a good tired, not brought on by stress or drugs but only through physical activity.

This morning my neighbor and friend, Tom Bunk called to tell me he was on his way up to take down several large oaks near my office building. Tom has years of experience with rigging and logging, with his direction we dropped five large trees within inches of where we wanted them to go. It was a learning experience for Patrick, Kevin and I. Tom, would cut a wedge followed by a “Plunge Cut”, this is a cut in which the tip of the saw is used to “dill” a path straight through the tree just behind the wedge. I have seen Tom do this in the past and watched today with extreme interest, I will try this technique sometime later this year.

Early in the afternoon Patrick, Kevin and I started cutting, splitting and hauling the trees felled in the morning. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed seeing Patrick manning the saw, within an hour of starting he looked like an “Old Pro”. I split and hauled wood along with Kevin; Tomorrow Kevin will man the saw and Patrick and I will be the “Grunts”. In a couple of days I'm sure we'll have enough wood to last all winter.

The hospital called while I was working on this post, surgery is now less then a week away. I can't imagine how I will feel once I am whole again. I'm sure there will be a transition period that may not be easy but at least this time, with this surgery, I feel I'm moving forward towards a more normal life. I think that everyone will understand; awakening from my first surgery with a thumb size protrusion (Freedrick) lounging around my belly button did not feel like forward progress. I have imagined many nights, coming out of anesthesia, looking down to my belly button seeing nothing more than a bandage.

OK, bring it on ........... Mike