Always Get a Second Opinion!

I went to see my radiation Oncologist today; Dr. David Diamond in Winter Park, Florida. He’s basically been the coordinator of all my treatments – surgical, medical, and radiation. So when I see him, I tend to get the “bigger” picture of all of my treatments. I also have the best relationship with him – he is an amazing doctor.

Anyway, for the past couple of months I have had this “numbness” and “tingling” in my lower back, buttocks, and legs whenever I look straight down towards my feet or the floor.

I always assumed that I had a pinched nerve or something. I never had this issue before my head and neck surgery, so I thought that it was a side effect of my radical neck dissection in September.

So when I went to see my surgeon this week I asked him about it. He suggested that I might have arthritis and was going to schedule a follow-up appointment for me to get it tested. That didn’t sit right with me – I knew it had to be something else. I don’t have any arthritis and it was too coincidental that it started showing up just as I was recovering from my treatments. I thanked my surgeon and told him I would call to schedule later.

When I went to Dr. Diamond today I brought the same issue up. He didn’t even blink. He looked at me and immediately said “I did that to you.”

Apparently, it’s rare but it does happen. Radiation against the spinal column affects the nerves. So, when I compress the nerves in my neck by looking down, the damage to the nerves translates into a feeling of “electricity” running down the spine. That’s EXACTLY what I have. For me, it’s a literal “shock” at the base of my spine and into my legs. It doesn’t run all the way down my spine.

The good news – it will go away. It takes time, but my nerves will heal.

This is why it’s IMPERATIVE that you never get a single opinion, people. My surgeon, who did my neck surgery made a guess based on his skill set and knowledge that, had I taken seriously, may have led to arthritis medication that I didn’t need. With no training in radiation oncology he had no reason to suspect that radiation could have temporarily damaged my nerves.

Your health is in your own hands. I trust all of my doctors – but each one has only one small part of the puzzle that is my health and well-being. It’s up to me to pull it all together and use that knowledge to make the right choice. I urge you all to consider this when seeing your health care providers.

Cancer and Social Networking

The most amazing thing happened to me today. I was sitting in my doctor’s office – the office of the surgeon who removed my cancer from my tonsils and lymph nodes to be exact – when I twittered on my iPhone the following:

Sitting in my surgeon’s office waiting for my next post treatment checkup.

I set my iPhone down and turned to talk to my fiance for a few minutes. During a lull in the conversation I picked my iPhone back up and re-loaded Twitterrific. I was stunned when I saw the mass of messages pour in.

Apparently one of my tweeps re-posted (re-tweeted) my message to HER network of tweeps with a message of support attached. Someone in her network re-tweeted it and added their own message of support. And someone in THAT network re-tweeted it. And so on.

In less time than it takes to have a short conversation with a loved one my tweet was broadcast all over the world to, literally, thousands of people.

Additionally, I have Twitter set up to automatically update my Facebook status when I tweet. My not-insignificant network on Facebook got that tweet as well – and the messages of support came pouring on on that venue as well. I work in Internet technology for a living, but sometimes the sheer beauty and power of social networking stuns and amazes me.

As a cancer patient the power of social media is astounding. I religiously follow Lance Armstrong on Twitter. All of his tweets show up instantaneously show up on my TweetDeck screen. I follow Stand Up To Cancer – you may have seen the celebrity TV special a few months ago they sponsored to raise money for cancer research. I follow fellow cancer survivors, such as am amazingly strong woman named Carrie Robison.

As a result of following these people and organizations I see the good, the bad, and the ugly of cancer. I hear of new trends in cancer research. I learn of fundraising opportunities. I learn the personal details of fellow survivors. Most of all I see the amazing forces we’re marshaling to fight this disease that never sleeps.

I see the hope and determination of an entire species – the human spirit is indomitable. My hope, endurance, and perseverance is increased as a result – for how can I be weak when so many people are fighting the battle with me? How can I give in when these people never give in? How can I succumb to hopelessness when these people help define what hope is?

Through my Twitter network I can follow trends, get insights from people who have been where I am going, learn what questions to ask my doctors, and I can participate in similar fashion to others who subscribe to ME. I give advice, hope, charity, and unconditional support to those who are in the fight with me.

There is a dark side to the social network that is Twitter. Like any community – is has a seedy underside. I have followers who have latched on to me because I have cancer and they occasionally try to peddle snake oil to me. I have a follower who claims to be a doctor in Mexico who has “all natural CURES” for cancer. I don’t block him because I want to see what kind of disinformation he is spreading. So far it’s been surprisingly light, but I do want to keep an eye on it.

Also, unfortunately, as a result of this virtual community I am aware and I feel the pain of loss when one of the community suffers or is taken from us as a result of this disease. I haven’t met any of these people in my “cancer network” but I grieve when they grieve. I cry when they cry. I feel the hole in my chest when they are taken or suffer.

I wouldn’t trade any of it, though. Social media, Twitter in particular, is reshaping how we share information and how communities form in an information age. We, all of us, have to be careful in a virtual community just as we do in a real on – but the benefits far and away outweigh the risks.

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Orlando Relay For Life

My daughter has a classmate who has cancer. Her name is Ebony and you can see her above right next to me in the picture.

Her teacher formed a team for the Orlando American Cancer Society Relay for Life this afternoon. A number of students and parents attended, along with Ebony and her family, to raise cancer awareness and money for researching a cure for cancer.

As you know, I too have cancer. I was diagnosed nine months ago and have been through surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation therapy. It was a brutal experience, but I pulled through and, so far, I seem to be cancer-free.

I am a survivor.

One of the speakers, the leader of the Orlando Police Department SWAT team, spoke before the Relay started and said that I became a survivor the moment my doctor said “You have cancer.” I never thought about it that way – I assumed I would be cancer free for x-number of years before I adopted the label “survivor.”

If you’ve read my non-cancer blog entries you know I have issues with OPD; I feel many OPD officers abuse their power simply because they can. I must say, though, that the officers at the Relay were what I would consider exemplary ambassadors of the department. I was very impressed with them and even ran a lap with one of the officers, chatting with him the entire way.

Here’s a picture of my daughter Ashlee in front of the OPD armored vehicle they brought to the Relay:

Anyway, this was my first Relay – but it won’t be my last. I was, frankly, surprised at the attention and respect cancer survivors were given. I was a little embarrassed by it, to be honest. I was asked, first, to introduce myself and tell the entire crowd how long I had been a survivor.

I was a “six-month” survivor. There were some, like the man to my left in the picture above, who had been survivors for 18 years or more. There was only one other survivor as “young” as I was – and he was even younger. He was a 4-month survivor and, strangely enough, his name was Ron too. There were quite a few 1-year survivors, including Ashlee’s classmate, Ebony.

After I introduced myself and endured the thunderous applause, I stood with the other survivors, waiting for the first lap – the “survivors only” lap.

I lined up at the back of the survivors group, because I saw that there was a banner. The front-runners would have to carry the banner and I really didn’t want to do that. I was foiled, though, when another survivor energetically waved me forward and told me to take my place up front with here. So, against my better judgement, I ended up being a banner carrier for the Relay for Life survivor lap.

As we walked the lap we were applauded vigorously. Again, it made me slightly uncomfortable and I wasn’t sure why this was so. I am not afraid to be in the center – I am a fairly good public speaker (although I seem to have lost some of my skill in the past couple of years). So why was I so uncomfortable and embarrassed to be applauded and recognized at the Relay for Life?

After the Survivor lap, we had a “survivor and caregiver” lap – where the survivors were asked to walk with their caregivers. In my case, it was Carey and Ashlee. Our sons were not with us – Christopher was spending the night with a friend and Matthew was attending the Chorus Awards banquet at his high school. Hand-in-hand, Carey, Ashlee, and I walked the lap – again to thunderous applause and my acute embarrassment.

After those first two laps, the track was opened up for everyone. The goal of a Relay for Life is to have a person from each team on the track every second for 18-hours straight. Symbolically it represents solidarity and endurance against a disease that never sleeps.

Ashlee made it a point to walk a few laps with her classmate, Ebony:

After the first few laps, the next surprise was sprung on me. The survivors were being served a free dinner in the Survivor tent. Caregivers could come too, but only survivors and caregivers for a survivor on the field could attend. Bemused, I allowed myself to be led to the tent and served a very nice meal from Brio, followed by a nice slice of chocolate raspberry cake from Publix:

Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay all night – I ran some laps with the OPD cops, I had a free meal, and I was overwhelmed by the attention , but we did have to leave after a couple of hours there. I had no idea what an amazing event this would be – and now I am planning on staying the whole 18 hours for the next one.

I think I figured out why I was so uncomfortable with the attention. Basically, I don’t feel like I deserve the attentions. First, while I recognize that I have a “great attitude” and a “fighting spirit” I didn’t do all that much to save myself. While there is a certain X-factor in my recovery as a result of my attitude, spirit, and prayers of others – the real credit for my survival goes to my doctors and the incredible care they give me.

Secondly, I am still such a “young” survivor that I don’t feel like I have really survived yet. At some level I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop – that I will have to continue chemo and radiation. I felt like a “poser.”

Lastly, while I went through hell in my treatments many people endure much more than I have. They deserve more recognition than me. Additionally, I have never REALLY defined myself by my cancer and, for the first time, I was surrounded by a large group of people for do define themselves thusly and I felt like I was not part of the “crowd.” I felt a little like an outsider and that maybe I didn’t belong because I wasn’t as “hard core” as others.

Silly, I know – but those were my emotions.

Anyway, my messed-up emotional state aside, I will definitely do this again. Cancer survivors and caregivers need this community of support and caring. It really felt good to see so many survivors and to see the community rally around finding a cure for this disease. Next time, I;m creating a team and I’m going to stick it out for theentire 18 hours.

Cancer Blog Index

Hi;

My name is Ron Sparks and I have cancer.

Sounds like a 12-step program, huh? Being diagnosed with cancer has changed my life. It’s been an incredible journey and it’s not nearly over yet. Not even close. As a writer, I have a cathartic need to express myself when I am in trouble – so it’s no surprise that I blog profusely about my cancer and my recovery. Here is a date-indexed list of my cancer and recovery blogs.

I was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma in August 2008. I had radical neck dissection surgery in September 2008 to remove the cancer from my lymph nodes and from my tonsils. Six weeks after surgery, in November 2008, I started chemotherapy and radiation therapy.

Chemo and radiation ended in January 2009 and I have been in recovery ever since.

If you are a cancer patient and have found this page; take heart. You are not alone. We, all of us, need to stand together in the face of this disease.

INDEX

08/27/08 The Scariest Words
09/15/08 John Stamos Cell Carcinoma
09/22/08 Cancer Surgery Date and Details
10/03/08 Post Operation Details
10/07/08 Surgery Post-Op Results
10/07/08 Poetry Contest Winner
10/13/08 The Cancer Reailty Check
10/14/08 Living With Cancer – Understanding Sycophants
10/14/08 First Post-Survery Workout
10/16/08 Meeting with my Radiation Oncologist
10/17/08 Update on Radiation Oncologist
10/20/08 Ear Mania
10/24/08 Body Image Post Cancer Surgery
10/31/08 My Chemo and Radiation Treatment Plan
11/10/08 Radiation Day 1: Chemo Day 1
11/17/08 The Toughest Battle Of My Life
11/26/08 Tasteless
12/03/08 Ceiling cat Is Watching Me Get Radiation
12/09/08 Not By The Hair of my CHinny-Cin-Chin!
12/15/08 Feeding Tube Madness
12/22/08 Hell of a Week
01/07/09 My Shrinking Belly
01/07/09 Foods I Crave
01/10/09 I Emerge From Round 1 Victorious!
01/22/09 Recovery Status
01/30/09 There’s a Fungus Among Us!
02/04/09 Recovery Update
02/15/09 Cancer Memories
02/16/09 Loving Couples Share Everything
02/20/09 Pickle Surprise!
03/02/09 First Day Back to Work!
03/11/09 I’m Not A Cyborg Anymore!
03/13/09 Binary’s Kids
03/17/09 Emerging From The Ashes Reborn
03/24/09 First Workout Post Cancer Treatment
03/26/09 Another Clean Bill of Health
03/31/09 Bald Binary Biker!
04/04/09 Surfing Again
04/13/09 Easter Weekend Surfing
04/17/09 The IOA 5K Race
04/21/09 I Have an Itch . . .
05/04/09 Recovery Status
05/15/09 Orlando Relay for Life
05/19/09 Cancer and Social Networking
05/22/09 Always Get A Second Opinion!
06/16/09 Stupid Cancer
06/29/09 Chewing Gum and Cancer
07/30/09 Did Chemo Brain Influence My Decision?
08/24/09 What do Fish and Cancer Have in Common?
08/29/09 Cancer and Bench Pressing
09/12/09 Telling Cancer Supporters What You Need
11/14/09 Dealing with Cancer Anxiety
12/30/09 Chemo Brain Attack

End Index . . .

Recovery Status

It’s been a while since I posted my current recovery status.

For those of you new to my blog: I am a cancer patient. I’d like to call myself a survivor, but that term will apply to me in a couple of years. Right now, I am still recovering from my first (and hopefully last) round of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation therapy.

I was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma in August 2008. I had radical neck dissection surgery in September 2008 to remove the cancer from my lymph nodes and from my tonsils. Six weeks after surgery, in November 2008, I started chemotherapy and radiation therapy.

Chemo and radiation ended in January 2009 and I have been in recovery ever since. I need to be cancer-free for at least 2 years before I’ll consider really calling myself a survivor. You can read about my entire journey here on my blog; just click on “Cancer” and “Recovery” in the categories on the right. Newest entries are on top – so if you want to read in order, you’ll have to scroll to the last entry and read your way up.

So where am I today?

  • I still weigh less than 160lbs. I am trying really hard to keep my weight down. I was over 200lbs and “comfortably plump” before I started treatment.
  • I work out 2-4 times a week. I go to the gym with my lovely fiance, or I’ll paddle board around Lake Fairview with my buddy Jorge, or I’ll go surfing with my brother-in-law, Craig. When I’m truly unlucky I get to do yard work.
  • I’ve been back to work since March 2nd. I love my job – they allowed me to slowly get back into the groove of things and are very understanding of my physical limitations (mentioned below).
  • I still have no saliva. None. Zero. This has a number of significant impacts on my lifestyle:

I can’t swallow very well. Breads and dry foods are my bane. I have to take small, small bites and use lots of water to get it down. I used to be the first person done at every meal; now I am the last.

I wake up every night 3-4 times to drink water, because my mouth is so dry it’s painful and actually gags me.

I wake up another 2-3 times a night to pee because I drink so much water in the middle of the night. My lovely fiance Carey has finally learned to sleep through my nighttime restlessness, thank goodness.

I have to carry a bottle of water with my everywhere. EVERYWHERE. My mouth is so dry that I need to sip water every 5-10 minutes. Heaven forbid I have a difficult bowel movement – I need to “stop,” go get a drink, come back and “resume” activity.

  • My esophageal muscles are still weak from the radiation trauma. Food gets stuck in my throat quite often. It’s a good thing I don’t have a horrible gag reflex (go ahead and make the obligatory joke here, I’ll wait) because I get food stuck every meal and either have to chase it down quickly with water or “hack” and bring it back up to try again. It’s quite a spectacle when I’m out at a restaurant.
  • I still have no feeling on the left side of my face where my surgery scar is. It can take a year or longer to come back and, as I have explained before, I’ll never get feeling back in my left earlobe as they were forced to take that nerve when they removed the cancer.
  • I ITCH. I think I am having some long-term reaction to chemo. I need to see my doctor about it. I blogged about it already – you can read it HERE.
  • Psychologically I’m still dealing with the fact that I have cancer, that I survived the first round of treatments, and that I’m still here to tell the tale. I was telling Carey last week that there is great irony in this if you think about it. Last year I thought I would never die, but I was so unhealthy I couldn’t DO anything with my life. Now, I’m fully aware of my mortality but am in the best shape I have been in in decades- and yet I’m terrified to DO anything. It’s ironic – but I am besting it. I am not letting fear stop me from living – I am active, healthy, planning a wedding, etc. But I am so much more acutely aware of my mortality now.
  • I have “chemo brain.” I’ve heard about it from a couple of other cancer patients and it fits what is going on with me perfectly. After treatments, I am not as quick-witted as I once once. I feel “slower” mentally – not less intelligent, just slower. I used to be the quip guy – I could come up with a pithy response to anything. I could engage in active and fierce debate at the drop of a hat. Now, it’s much harder – I need a few extra seconds to collect my thoughts and I feel a step behind when in a room full of people I used to think I was a step ahead of. I hear that this goes away eventually – I hope so. I miss being able to aggressively insert myself into conversations and debates.
  • The hearing in my left ear is SHOT to hell. This is a direct result of chemotherapy. I have a doctor’s appointment soon to get my hearing tested, but I know I have less than 50% function in my left ear. It rings constantly and I honestly can’t hear from it most of the time.

All in all I have very mild side effects. I survived – I am here to tell the tale. I am at a healthy weight – I have a new lease on life. I see things a LOT differently now than I used to – I don’t take the people in my life for granted any more. I have made a huge effort to be a better friend, father, son, brother, lover – you never know when your last breath is going to come, so live and embrace your life.

I was reading on FaceBook about a high-school classmate of mine who died from breast cancer last week. She was 38-years-old. I don’t remember this woman from school – but learning of her death seriously depressed me. She had a husband of 17 years and twin babies. Babies that will never know their mommy because of this vile disease. I immediately felt sympathy for her family, fear and anxiety for myself, and guilt.

Yes – guilt – I felt some measure of guilt that I have survived my cancer. I wasn’t expecting that emotion – I guess I bottled it up before now. I have some kind of survivor’s guilt. I feel like my battle so far wasn’t tough enough.

And that’s silly, I know. I lost 50 lbs, was on disability for 4 months, had a feeding tube in my belly for months, was unable to talk for weeks, unable to lay flat, was hospitalized twice, couldn’t eat, drink, or keep food down, had surgery that forever altered my appearance above the neck, lost my hair. I had a tough battle – as tough as any I think. And yet I felt guilty when I read about this classmate who I couldn’t remember dying from cancer.

It’s become abundantly clear to me over the past couple of weeks that the emotional and psychological trauma of what I went through will be years in the curing. I am a strong man – I learned that through my treatments. I can handle a lot and keep smiling – but all the while there was a continual and incessant chipping away of my strength, my self-consciousness, my view of myself, my self-esteem, my pride in myself.

One thing’s for sure – I am a much humbler man than I was a year ago. I have a lot of recovery to go – a lot of it physical and a lot of it mental. I am so, so thankful for my wonderful family.

Carey continues to be my angel and my very best friend. She loves me and understands all the emotional baggage I still carry – she never shies away and always just . . . loves me.

My children are amazing sources of joy for me. They are strong, happy, and well-adjusted. They love me and still see me as a super-dad, even if I sometimes don’t feel like one.

As you can see from this post – I am doing very well, but I wouldn’t say my recovery is behind me yet. Now that the physical symptoms are finally getting manageable I am able to focus on the mental ones. I hadn’t even realized I had them until recently – but I am strong and I am sure that with the love of my family I will get through them just like I have everything else.

Beware Drivers . . .

I am teaching my oldest son, Matthew, how to drive. He’s 15-years-old and is preparing for his learner’s permit. Over the past few months I have gradually let him drive on back roads more and more often.

Yesterday, we went to the empty student parking lot at Boone High School in Orlando – that’s where he goes to school. We took Carey’s old Honda because it’s easier to drive than the Durango for a beginner. I let Matthew drive solo around the parking lot and we worked on parking for about 45 minutes.

The gas was low in the car and traffic was light, so I let Matthew drive the car from the high school to the 7/11 down the street. It’s all back roads, with a speed limit of 25-miles-per-hour the entire way.

He did great. He listened well. Drove responsibly. I was impressed and started feeling confident about his ability to drive.

After we pumped gas, I drove down Orange Avenue, a major road, towards the house. Once we entered the residential neighborhood again, I swapped with Matthew and let him behind the wheel. The goal was to let him drive the rest of the way home.

And again, he did great. There was a bicyclist who was weaving all over the road and Matthew was calm and collected – he managed to work his way around the cyclist with no issues.

Then we pulled into the driveway. Matthew, being cautious, left too much distance between the Honda and the Durango. I told him to creep the car up just a little. The car started inching forward slowly.

Then WHAM!

Before I had a chance to say anything, the car leaped forward and slammed into the back of the Durango.

Matthew was just as shocked as I was. I very quietly told him to put the car in reverse and back the car up a little. He was shaking now – he was so upset. He managed to back the car up, put it in park, and get out before he started getting so upset that he was crying.

He very apologetically told me he thought his foot had been on the brake and not the accelerator. He was afraid I was going to be mad, but I was just laughing. He wasn’t sure how to handle my humor and later told me he didn’t understand how I can get so upset when he loses his cell phone or drops it in the toilet and yet laugh off this incident.

He doesn’t understand that as a father I get annoyed when he costs me money because of his lack of attention to detail but I have no problems with accidents as I teach him to drive. But that’s a story for another day.

Here’s a picture of the damage. The Durango is completely unharmed – Matthew smacked into the towing hitch. The Honda has some bumper damage – not that much, but enough that it has to get fixed.


Matthew got a healthy dose of respect for his vehicle knocked into him, but still I would stay away from Orlando for a while if I were you. Beware drivers!

I have an itch . . .

For about 2 months now I have been dealing with completely random attacks of extreme itching.

At first I thought that I was just having an allergic reaction to the detergent we use to wash our clothes. I had Carey buy some dye and scent-free detergent and it seemed to work. For a week or two at least. Then it started up again.

Then I thought maybe the dog had fleas – yeah, that was the cause of my itching. So we bought flea dip, washed the dog’s bed, and refused to let her crawl in bed with us as she is wont to do occasionally. It seemed to work. For a week or two. Then it started up again.

It began to dawn on me that my itching wasn’t normal. I had no hives. No rash. No bumps or marks of any kind. Just a random itch that was so severe that it was, literally, painful.

I wake up in the middle of the night scratching my thighs and back madly. I absently scratch my belly and chest as I watch television.

Last weekend, Carey and I were driving and I was hit by an itch attack. This time, though, I determined to ignore it. I learned that scratching the itch only makes it worse – it stays with me.

My lower back was itching. Initially I scratched it and made the appropriate near-orgasmic noises that accompany a really good scratch. But it just wouldn’t stop itching. As I was driving, my gyrations were causing the car to swerve dangerously and Carey was getting nervous.

So I determined to ignore the itch. And I was reminded of the Frank Herbert novel “Dune.” Young Paul Atreides received his “humanity test” from the Reverend Mother. The concept is that only a “human” could resist the baser instincts – animals have no choice but to react to stimuli that a human could ignore.

So Paul places his hand in the gom jabbar, a device that stimulates nerve endings. It starts as an itch and moves to pain then to unbearable pain. An “animal” would yank his hand out and fail the test (and therefore die) but a human would be able to resist the urge to pull away and endure the pain and thus pass the test (and live to tell the tale).

I failed my humanity test – my gom jabbar bested me and were I in the Dune universe I would have been slain for being merely an animal.

I managed to resist the itch for a minute, maybe 90 seconds, before it bested me. I was rocking in my seat as I drove, making low growls and whimpers as I tried to resist the urge to itch. Carey was laughing at my plight; I’m sure I made quite a spectacle of myself.

Finally, the itch won and, with a cry of tormented failure and anticipatory ecstasy, I scratched the itch.

So where is my itch coming from?

My best guess is that it’s a chronic side-effect of my chemotherapy. I have done a little research and it seems that there is a possibility of this happening, but I can find no specific reference to itching and the specific chemo drug I was on.

I suppose I’ll have to contact my oncologist – all because I have an itch. sigh.

The IOA 5k Race

There is a yearly 5k run sponsored by “Insurance Office of America” here in the Orlando area. Every year my company, Channel Intelligence, encourages everyone to participate and attend. Easily 1/2 of our company attends each year – and that’s a staggering statistic if you stop to think about it. What other company can confidently say that close to 50%-60% of it’s employees run a race together? Not many; that’s one of the reasons why I like working at CI so much.

Last year was my first year to attend and I had a great time. I’m not much of a runner because of my lack of an arch in my 4E wide feet, but I will jog/walk as much as I can. This year, my second year participating, was something special for me.

My recovery from cancer is far from complete, but I would have never thought, even for a second, that 8 weeks after my treatments ended I would be fit enough to participate in the race this year. I not only participated, I enjoyed it and didn’t wear myself out. Even three weeks ago that would have been impossible; my strength and stamina are increasing every day.

I didn’t set any records yesterday. The field was so crowded that it was all I could do just to walk in a straight line. There was no way me, as a walker, could pull ahead of the crowd for some clear space. There were, literally, tens of thousands of people attending. I managed to walk all 5k in 1:01:24. 1 hour, 1 minute, and 24 seconds. Like I said, no records were broken, but I couldn’t have done this even a month ago.

I’m paying for it a bit today with some stiffness and soreness, but I am so happy to have been able to do this. The best moment was as we were driving home last night when Carey reached over and grabbed my hand and just smiled and said “I’m proud of you, honey.”

And I have great reason to be proud. I am not letting my weakness stop me from living. I am working every day to get stronger. To get better. I may have to continue this cancer battle in the future, you never know, but I am not living my life in fear. I’m proud of myself too.

I loved the fact that this is a family event and we got to bring the kids. Matthew, Christopher, and Ashlee had a blast as well. The enjoyed the crowds, the free food, the drink, and going from tent to tent and just looking around. The crowds were a bit much for Carey and me – we have large crowd issues – but we all enjoyed every minute of it.

The only part that “bothered” me was when I saw myself in the pictures I hadn’t realized how prominent my scar was. Nothing major, though – I love my scar and think it’s cool as hell. I just hadn’t realized that it was so obvious.

Anyway, here are some pictures of the race:


Some of the Channel Intelligence crowd before the race.


The CEO of our company Rob Wight (right) talking to one of our VPs, Roger (left).


Me just before the race: notice my scar. Sexy, huh?


Another pic of me just before the race.


Carey and co-worker Ann.


Carey and me lounging around just before the race.


Carey and Ashlee.


Christopher and me.


Matthew and me.


Me and co-worker Todd.


The massive crowd starts to line up.


That’s a lot of damned people!


I was feeling so strong that I was even able to carry Christopher for about 1/4 of a mile because his feet were hurting. He has flat feet like me.

I had a great time at the IOA 5k yesterday. I am so proud of my determination to recovery and my persistence in making it happen. I am tickled pink that I got to attend this year when just a few short months ago it was in doubt. I love that my co-workers and family get to see me well on the recovery road and that they get to see the results of their love and support of me.

I can’t wait to do it again.

I have a lot of pictures. If you want to see them, just click the link below:

2009-04-16 IOA 5K

Is Sexting Child Pornography?

When I was a kid we had Playboy Magazine. We would pay a wino to go into 7/11 and buy us Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, or whatever adult material we were too young to buy.

We had mirrors on our shoes. This was back when girls still wore skirts to school. Some genius would steal his mom’s compact and tie it to his shoes and try to get a peek at the female goods before school, at lunch, or between classes.

We had 1-900 numbers that we would convince some unsuspecting schmuck to call because his parents were at work and he had no idea it cost. We’d all huddle around the earpiece and listen as the lady on the other end talked dirty to us.

We sneaked into the girl’s locker room and hid, hoping to get a view of female undress. Usually we were too chicken to hide in the locker room when there was an actual chance that a girl would walk in, but there were always rumors of that one guy who was brave enough to stay and received his reward.

We were kids doing what kids do. We explored our burgeoning sexuality, we learned right from wrong, and when we were caught we were embarrassed, chastised, and maybe even suspended from school for a day or two.

We turned out OK.

We’re not depraved. We’re not sick. And certainly no one would label us as sex offenders.

Fast forward 25 years to today. 2009. The technology has changed but kids have not. They are the same as they have been for thousands of years. Today, though, kids have technology we never had; they have the Internet and cell phones. And therein lies the problem.

Our ability to capture and record every moment of our lives has increased dramatically. No longer do kids need to buy Playboy; they can log onto a website and watch sex acts as they happen via web cams. In fact, sometimes one, or both, of the participants in a web-cam sex session are unaware that they are being filmed.

So what happens if one kid snaps a nekkid picture of his girlfriend on his cell phone without her knowing and shows it to some friends?

Is it poor taste? Sure.
Is it child pornography? Yes.

At least that’s what so many wants us to think. In fact, there are numerous cases in courts right now across the country where this very issue is being weighed. Children barely old enough to stay up and watch the late show, filled with hormones and doing what kids do, are finding themselves faced with lifetime “Sex Offender” labels attached to their public record.

The boy who snaps a naked cell phone picture of his girlfriend who is also underage is certainly a cad and undeserving of his girlfriend. He’s also being charged with viewing and disseminating child pornography.

And I have an issue with that.

They say ignorance of the law is no excuse, and by and large it seems to make sense. Until you see how many laws there are and until you realize that nearly any law can be twisted and subverted to apply to cases against which it was never intended. And that’s what’s happening here, people.

Child pornography laws are intended to protect children from malicious adults who would take advantage of them. They are not intended to be applied in child-on-child situations. In fact, it goes even further than that.

If I, for instance, were to take a picture of Carey in the shower without her knowing and share it with friends I would not go to jail for it. That’s not pornography; that’s just poor taste. Take two 17-year-old kids in the same situation and suddenly it’s pornography. This is why the new buzzword, “sexting” is so, well, charged.

Sexting is the term used to describe the sending of sexual content from cell phone to cell phone using MMS messaging. I can sext; you can sext. There’s nothing illegal about it. The illegality of it comes in when the content being sexted is of an underage person.

So age of the sender is not accounted for when sexting becomes an issue. Only the age of the person being “sexted.” On the outside it makes sense – sending sexually explicit content of children is child pornography. There are laws to protect children from exploitation like this.

I think we all agree that children need to be protected from sexual exploitation and that adults who sexually exploit children should be treated as the criminals that they are. But I do not think that the laws apply to children sexting other children in their age group.

Some modicum of common sense needs to be applied here. We, as a nation, continually try to kill cockroaches with bazookas. If we throw the book at a few, the rest will stop. If we come down like a ton of bricks and forever ruin the life of one child, it will make others think twice before they do it.

But that’s not true. It’s not right. It’s not fair. Kids are kids, people. Kids need to be firmly and gently guided to appropriate sexual behavior and respect for the other sex. Labeling a 16-year-old as a sex offender for having a picture of his girlfriend is not appropriate. Period. It’s just not.

It’s stupid and asinine. How can kids be expected to know, and follow, every law pertaining to appropriate social behavior when the laws are continually being changed or interpreted to mean different things? Adults cant keep up – that’s why we need lawyers, unfortunately. How can we honestly be OK labeling a child as a sex offender for life in this situation? For having a naked picture of his girlfriend?

The punishment does not fit the crime, people. Instead of being offended that kids use today’s technology to explore their sexuality (just like you did at their age) we should be offended at the judges who allow these lawsuits to continue. These children need to be punished for such gross indiscretions – but not labeled for life. These kids can’t get jobs, get scholarships, go to colleges – all because they had a naked picture of a girl on their cell phone. Or because they sent it to some buddies.

How does that rehabilitate behavior? How is that anything other than punitive to the point of ridiculousness? How does that teach a child right from wrong?

Zero-tolerance is very rarely appropriate, people.

Instead, why aren’t the lawsuits against the companies that facilitate the exchange of this data? I disagree with that as well – but I have yet to see a cell company get sued for being the willing vehicle for the dissemination of pornographic material.

Hell, we have peer-to-peer companies getting sued for making it easy to download illegal music – why isn’t someone making the cell companies take a stake in this issue? With today’s technology it is easy to pattern recognize a boob, penis, or vagina in a picture and stop it from transmitting. I don’t agree with that censorship – but why are we killing the future of these kids without ever once looking for alternative ways to protect our children?

Children should not be labeled as sex offenders for sexting. It does no good, harms their future, and teaches no valid moral lesson. We, as a society, need to take less interest in punitive measures and more interest in rehabilitative measures and teaching acceptable social conduct to our children.

Easter Weekend Surfing

So far I’m holding true to the promise I made myself. When I sick from chemotherapy, weak from radiation, unable to walk across the house from malnutrition weakness, I promised myself that when I got better I would spend as many weekends as I could at the beach.

In the past four weeks I have been to the beach three times.

The beach has always been one of my “sacred sanctuaries.” If I’m sitting on my board looking at the waves or just sitting on the sand and feeling the warm sun on my face, the beach has always been one of those places where I just let go and exist in relative harmony with the universe.

I’ve been trying to get back into surfing. I was never a great surfer, but I was decent enough to ride the Florida waves and sometimes attempt a tricky move or two. Now that I’m starting back up again, I find that my general weakness is a detriment to me; I can’t paddle the damned board fast enough to catch the waves I want to ride half the time. My timing is off; I can’t recognize a good wave to ride from a poor one to ride any more. My endurance is non-existent; I catch a single wave and have to wait ten minutes before I can even think of trying again.

Even with those “handicaps,” which I will quickly overcome as my strength returns, I am having a blast. There’s nothing quite like floating in the ocean and waiting for a wave to ride.

An added bonus this weekend was that I got to surf with my brother-in-law, Craig, and my sons Matthew and Christopher (as well as Craig’s nephew Chandler). Craig has been surfing since before I even knew there was such a thing as surfing. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger.

Even Carey took a ride on a surfboard this weekend! She didn’t stand on the board, but I taught her how to balance her weight on the board and how to paddle. She rode a couple of waves on her belly. I think she’s truly addicted. She wants to go again soon.

The water was chilly, but not so cold that it prevented us from surfing and having fun. We went surfing right by Patrick Air Force Base, by North Housing. That’s just south of Cocoa Beach; we avoided Cocoa Beach because of the yearly Ron-Jon’s sponsored surf contest happening. We wanted nothing to do with the crowds!

The waves were small, but it was perfect for teaching the younger kids how to surf and, truthfully, great for me in my weakened state. I didn’t have to fight to get out past the breaks – when you’re weak or tired that’s the most frustrating thing about surfing.

Here are some pictures of our day:


Our daughter Ashlee, our son Christopher, Me, our son Matthew, my brother-in-law Craig, and his nephew Chandler.


Craig and I working with Christopher.


Christopher catching a wave! He’s a natural.


Chandler catching his first wave!


Matthew coming in to switch boards. He didn’t like mine as much as he liked Craig’s.


Matthew riding a wave!


I am about to ride this wave. Carey wasn’t quite fast enough to get the next picture of me riding the wave. Or maybe I fell off and don’t want to admit it. You decide.


Where have all the waves gone? Oh woe is me!


This is me coming in. Tired. Even small waves like these tire me out – but I am getting better! I stayed out longer than I did last weekend.

All-in-all I had a great weekend. I spent some quality time with my sister, drinking wine and chatting the night away. I managed to (barely) beat Craig at a game of pool. I wisely decided against a re-match; I knew the first win was a fluke and I wanted to look like I was really good at pool. I got to surf and watch my children surf. I got to watch Carey learn to surf a little.

How much better can Easter weekend get?