Sunday

Well, my first colonoscopy is now - so to speak - behind me, as well as my second (non)-biopsy.  More on the latter in a minute.  I was told my colon is "perfect" - I doubt that, but it is comforting to know that the combination of good genes and no-red-meat diet for many years has somehow resulted in no polyps or other issues.  I didn't ask, but I believe I won't need another colonoscopy for 5 or 10 years.

As far as the biopsy, I was told - on waking up - that once Dr. M got in/up there, there was nothing to biopsy; everything was normal.  Okay with me.  I told him of our move to Maine.  I will miss him.  Seeing him always gives me confidence in my own well-being.  He said my next check-up should be in 6 months - for a CT scan and follow up visit with him.  I think I may try to return to CT for that scan and visit with him.  I will probably also set up a relationship with the doctor to whom Dr. M referred me in Portland, but if it can be arranged (and is covered by my insurance), I would still like to come back to see Dr. M for follow ups, at least for the next couple years.  Maybe until I reach my 5 year NED milestone (I'm half way there already!).

The worst part of the whole experience was the "bowel prep" which involves - for those of you too young, too lucky or too anxious to have had to deal with this - typically I believe and at least in my own case, taking 4 laxative tablets (4 x the "normal" dose) AND an entire 8 oz bottle of something like Miramax mixed in 64 ounces of Gatorade, lemonade or the like (typically I believe you mix a tablespoon or so with an 8 oz glass of water, etc.).  The idea is to clean you out, and I do mean clean you out.


I've done this a few times now, and this was the hardest time for me.  I ended up getting nauseous - which I guess is fairly common - and then throwing up (not that there was anything to throw up since for the day before the procedure you can't eat solid food, only clear liquids, Jello, bouillon, etc.).  But I made it and it's now over.

Hurricane Isaac ... Haiti ...

Keeping all of Haiti in my thoughts tonight as Hurricane Isaac bears down.

Peace.

Update and a little bitty rant

First, update: saw Dr. R today; all is well. I told her about our relocation plans. She was happy for me. She did say she thought I was due for a CT scan in October, but my memory is that Dr. M said I was now on a yearly CT scan schedule rather than every 6 months. Dr. R said she would defer to him, and she tended to be conservative, but she thought 6 months was a good idea. That was a bit of a bummer. I'll talk to Dr. M about it when I go through the BP&VP (butt poke and vagina pull), but I'm thinking a year is soon enough. I've read some disturbing things about the amount of radiation from CT scans; it would be pretty ironic to GET cancer from CT scans whose purpose is to look for cancer recurrence.

Second, little bitty rant: I was thinking it might be appropriate to see how Todd Akin liked a little legitimate - or even illegitimate - bop upside his bitty brain. Of course, the Democrats may end up owing him a debt of gratitude. I hear Paul Ryan proposed legislation in 2011 that said essentially the same thing Akin is now being torn limb-from-limb over. Be nice if some of Akin's tar could run off onto Ryan's arrogant feathers. Enough.

As Rodney King - may he rest in peace - would ask, "Can't we all just get along?" Tonight I would answer, "Honestly, Rodney, I don't know, I really don't know. How does one get along with someone like a Congressman who talks about 'legitimate rape'? I don't know, Rodney, makes me feel kind of blue."

Peace anyway.

Update and news...

A brief update re post-cancer treatment news and other NEWS. First, it has been an almost doctor-free summer, and wonderful for that. Dr. R's office called some time ago and postponed my appointment almost a month from late July to August 21st - tomorrow. Meantime I met with a PA in the colo-rectal practice as prep for scheduling a colonoscopy together with another vaginal biopsy. A two-for. One out-patient procedure and two doctors: the Butt Doctor and Dr. M. Can't say I'm looking forward to it, but it'll be good to get it over with.

Anyway, I see Dr. R tomorrow, first time since she failed to answer phone calls or give me results from the CT scan for 4-1/2 days. Oh well, not so important given my other NEWS.

Only a couple of the people who may still be checking in on this Blog now and then know this news, because it isn't yet fixed in stone - but getting there. I'm trying to buy a house in Rockland, Maine. The closing is scheduled for September 20th and - assuming all goes well with the rest of the process - David and I (and Ella) will be moving there some time in October, hopefully the first week or so. It's a smallish old house in decent condition right in town, about 7-8 blocks from the coast. Not a big yard - which is okay, we don't really need to take care of a yard. It has 3 bedrooms, so there will be a guest room for visitors. Anyway, it's a big deal for us. A big life change. I will be keeping my job, and working remotely, and David hopes to transfer to a store location in Maine.

Here's the "coast" we're near - Rockland has an almost mile-long breakwater - beautiful:

This impacts my medical situation because I'll be telling Dr. R tomorrow that it may be my last visit to her. I had already raised this with Dr. M months ago, when David and I began considering the idea, and Dr. M referred me to an oncology gynacologist up there. It's scary to be leaving the doctors who cared for me during the cancer treatment and have watched over me since then, but I can either go forward and live my life, not always looking over my shoulder anv expecting the worse... or not. I'm choosing to go forward and live, as well and as long as I can.

More later re medical after the visit tomorrow (if there's any news) and more re the house and relocating as the closing approaches.

Meanwhile we look forward to a week's vacation the first week of September, going back to WoodenBoat School, where I'll take a kayak class and David will relax. Then the butt-etc. thingy the week we get back, and hopefully, the closing week after that.

One friend - truly a FRIEND - mentioned that she actually misses my partisan political rants here since I haven't been posting much. I'm gearing up to get back into that mode. Check back soon if you're thirsting for rants.

Peace. Peace. Now if possible, and as soon as would be convenient to all of humanity otherwise.

Two years +

Again, so long since I've written - back in March. Since then I had the CT scan - the results of which were good, but were a pain in the ass to obtain.

In the "old" days - a year ago - Dr. R would call me the day of or the day following the CT scan so that I "shouldn't worry". This time, I had the scan on Tuesday morning and didn't get results until Friday after 5:00 p.m. The most troubling thing was that I tried calling Dr. R's office over and over, leaving messages, and didn't get a call back for days. Then when I did speak to her, she said she had not received any of the messages. I'm not sure what is more troubling: to think that I left 5 or 6 messages my doctor didn't get - or to think that she got one or more of the messages and didn't find time to call me back for 4 days. Anyway, done now.

I had to reschedule the appointment with Dr. M for a follow-up internal exam because I inadvertently scheduled it for 3:00 in the afternoon. I didn't want to do a bowel prep and then not be able to eat all day, so I rescheduled it for a morning appointment, but that pushed it back to the end of May. Finally I did it. The bowel prep was ... not fun. The internal exam ... sort of inconclusive. He thought once again he detected a "thickening" and asked if I would mind if his colleague also did an exam. What the hell? What's another hand up your vagina anyway - just another 5 fingers. It was a woman doctor, older (e.g., maybe 5 years younger than me or my age), and very nice. She did the exam and said she didn't feel anything unusual. That was a comfort.

To be really careful, though, Dr. M recommended - and I agreed - to go ahead and schedule a colonoscopy - which I've been putting off just because I couldn't stand the idea of yet more doctors, yet more procedures - and when I do the colonoscopy, Dr. M will come in and do another exam under anesthesia (and presumably another biopsy if the exam suggests it would be appropriate); that way I get a two-for: one bowel prep, one anesthesia and 2 procedures. So Dr. M's office made an appointment for me for a consult with a ... bowel doctor (actually a PA). I'll see them in July and agreed to schedule the colonoscopy etc. in September. Dr. M agreed that this is all just being super careful and there is no reason why I can't have a doctor/procedure free summer. Hurrah!

And that's pretty much the cancer-related news - thank god. No more CT scans until next April. Seeing Dr. R in the fall sometime, and not "seeing" Dr. M at the September procedure, but he'll be "seeing" me. I've come to really love Dr. M. On the one hand, he seems very confident that I am doing well. On the other hand, he is clearly very conservative and wants to be very careful to watch for any possible reoccurrence of the cancer. I guess making 2 years post-treatment is "a" milestone, but really that's all. It's hard sometimes to keep in mind, when I feel good, healthy - old and creaky sometimes - but good, that I HAD cancer and therefore my chances of having cancer AGAIN are greater than someone who hasn't had cancer. I still have never asked him - or looked up on the web - to see what "statistics" say the chances of reoccurence are for a cancer such as I had. I continue to think that for the foreseeable future, that information isn't helpful to me. Say the chances that cancer WILL reoccur are 50%. How does knowing that help me? What would I do differently? Assuming the cancer does NOT come back for at least several more years, I sometimes think that there may be a future milestone at which I may want to ask the question and seek the answer. Maybe at 5 years post-treatment; maybe not until 10 years post-treatment. I guess when I find out the odds, I'd like to already pretty much be on the side of having beaten them.

Finally - for anyone who is still even occasionally checking this blog to see if I have posted here, I apologize for the long delay. I think the lead-up to the CT scan, the sort of "semi" results from the February exam by Dr. M, the CT scan, the wait for the results of that, the follow-up internal exam by Dr. M - I just didn't want to sit down and write about it at the time.

I've gotten through it, now, and I kind of look forward to writing about the colonoscopy experience here - that's not exactly true: what is true is that I look forward to having that experience be behind me (no pun intended) and writing about it will mean that that has happened.

But I expect to be posting more often over the coming days, weeks and months, not about my health necessarily, but just generally about my life and thoughts and feelings. I MISS writing here, for myself mostly (and certainly by not writing here, I likely have driven away most of the few people who were regularly checking in). And I understand that this blog began as a way for family and friends to know how I was doing - when facing a life threatening disease. I understand if the pedestrian meanderings of my brain on daily experience do not rivet people. Nonetheless, I'm going to write. Feel free to read if you care to.

Peace. Peace. Peace.

Sunday morning

It's been so long since I wrote here - January 31st I think - that I hardly know where to start. Let's start with cancer-related news.

I saw Dr. M on February 29th. Like Dr. R, he too graduated me to seeing him every 6 months. Except...

Except that during the internal exam he once again thought he felt a "thickening". I mentioned to him that - not to be too too graphic, but remember, this blog began as a way to communicate my experience and feelings about dealing with a cancer diagnosis, so grit your teeth or jump to the next paragraph - I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. To be frank, that I either had to take a crap or pass gas. He was actually happy to hear it, thought that might be what he was encountering. So he asked me to come back another day, after using a bowel prep the night before. I asked if it would be okay to wait until after the CT scan - scheduled for April 16 - and he said sure.

So the CT scan is on April 16 - that will be my 2 year post-treatment CT scan. And I made an appointment to see him on April 18 but since then I've been scheduled to attend a 6 hour meeting at work that conflicts with my appointment with Dr. M, so I need to call him and reschedule it.

As the CT scan date approaches, again I feel that place in the back of my throat and in my chest, the tightening up, the flutter in my stomach, from time to time. I've just gotten over 2 bouts of "illness" - first a regular head cold, and then 10 days later, something more flu-like, 36 hours of fever, chills, ending with chest congestion that I"m still feeling the lingering effects of. The good thing about being "sick" is that it's kept my mind off of other, deeper fears. Actually, although I feel the nervousness stirring and beginning to rise, like sap in the early days of spring, I actually in some weird way look forward to this CT scan. First, because it is a true milestone, the first chronological milestone the medical profession seems to mark: 2 years post treatment. Second, related to that, it means no further CT scan for 12 months. And only 2 doctor visits in the intervening months.

So that's the cancer news.

Other news, let's see, the 200 residents of Alligator, Mississippi, where my father was born, elected their first black mayor by a decisive vote of 37 to 27, I think.

The Republican primary rolls out across the months like some coldly reptilian slithering snake. It does appear to have turned back on itself, found a juicy morsel of "prey" to feed upon and is now busy swallowing its own head and consuming itself. Nonetheless, I find I have boundless faith in the Democrats - that is, in their ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. My grandmother, whom we called Big Mama, used to tell me: We're all entitled to be wrong. Indeed.

Green is creeping out the branches of trees, silently signaling spring - which newly arrived migrating birds are joyously announcing. Seems early, but I haven't gone back and looked at this blog from last year to check dates. I do know that I saw the first robin in the park as long ago March 6, and red winged blackbirds on the same day. Ella and I were at the park Friday (I took the day off), yesterday and again this morning. Many, many robins, red winged blackbirds, downy and hairy woodpeckers, black capped chickadees, and other birds I heard but didn't see. Spring is a feast for the ears.

Peace.

Tuesday night

A milestone: I saw Dr. R this afternoon. My next CT scan will be at the end of April but - BUT - but I don't see Dr. R again until July - I have graduated to seeing her every 6 months. How about them apples?

As I walked from the cancer center, the sun was setting, the sky glowed that shimmering blue fading slowly to black except in the west, glowing pink-red-orange. Overhead a murder of crows flew from north north west to south south east. Flew and flew and flew. They were continuously streaming overhead for the entire 25 minutes I stood and waited for my bus. How many were there? Thousands upon thousands I'm sure. Where were they going? Do they fly in family groups? Where were they? Why did they leave?

Now that the Republicans are - presumably - leaving Florida since the primary is over, perhaps the crows have decided to really go south.

I'm grateful for good news today. I'm grateful for good doctors, for having a job, for having health insurance, for being ... healthy.

Peace.

Sunday morning

First, photos from Honduras, from Melina and the boys' visit to family there (Cach and his cousin, Gracia! And little Cello-growing!)






Now back to today:

Ella and I went to the park this morning, a little after sunrise. I think we've been going too early; the light of the sun, newly risen, was beautiful. It was brisk but not really cold. Cold enough apparently for the skim of ice on the pond to mostly stick. I was happy to hear the laughing duck this morning as we got out of the car - it's been colder when we've been there lately and the ducks were not visible, making me wonder where they "go". Still the little group of Mallards was confined to a small portion of the lower pond where the ice was melted. Good to see them though.

I see Dr. R on Tuesday afternoon, just the regular blood work and checkup, but I realize the white noise stress is in the background of my consciousness, level rising ever so slightly as the day approaches (and since she postponed 10 days ago or so to this coming Tuesday, the incremental increasing has continued). Once again I realize that in the days/weeks leading up to the appointment, every odd ache or pang or twinge becomes further static in that white noise stress. I'm wondering when you come to trust your body and your mental experience of your body again. It's not that I'm consumed by stress or worry; it's just that it's ... there ... in the background .. like people who have the condition of hearing ringing in their ears all the time. I'm writing about it not because it's especially BAD right now, but because it is apparent to me, I'm conscious of it, and I'm wondering when - or if - it will fade and become part of my background consciousness and be indistinguishable.

My son Sam stopped by for a quick overnight visit on his way from NY/NJ, where he was working, to Boston, where he visits a friend with whom he is collaborating on a new documentary. It was a really nice, if short, visit. My daughter Corinne continues her work in Haiti, planning to stay for 6 months; it seems difficult, rewarding, frustrating, intense, occasionally inspirational, all at once. Yet the rest of her life calls.

Isn't that true for any of us paying attention. What next? It's important to ask, without being paralyzed by the question so that we lose today, which is actually the only real life we live. Still as I enter my seventh decade, I need remind myself.

I've been enjoying - in a perverse sense - the Republican primary race, if watching the stupidity, moral degeneracy, arrogance, and general cluelessness of the species acting out in front of you can be said to be "enjoyable". Not that I'd expect more from the "liberal," "left," "Democratic" side of the American political spectrum. Still, can it hurt to smile and even laugh out loud when the alternative is to weep?

Peace, peace, far and near, Soon, if not soon enough.

Thursday - 2 year anniversary

Two years ago this morning, the Haitian people woke up to an earthquake - except the 300,000 that died, and the 500,000 that still live in "shelters" - if you call living in a tropical area subject to wind and rain under a tarp living in "shelter." Please do not forget. Please watch this video and read these articles.

lhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=PfTBMeT921c

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/01/11/haiti-earthquake-recovery_n_1197730.html#s603514&title=Watch_Related_Video

http://www.counterpunch.org/2012/01/03/haiti-after-the-quake/


Please do what you can.

If not now, when?

If not us, who?

Wednesday evening

I was to have seen Dr. R on Tuesday afternoon. Monday afternoon her office called and left a message, canceling; no reason given except she is unable to make the appointment. They told me the new appointment would be next week at 1:30. I called them back, of course not reaching a human being, and left a message to say I can't make a 1:30 appointment; I need the latest appointment available (so I don't have to take a whole or even half day vacation). Long and short, the appointment is now rescheduled for January 31.

I'm not feeling especially stressed about this visit. This is my mid-scan cycle appointment that involves blood tests and a visit/exam by Dr. R. Generally not invasive (unless you consider needles for blood letting invasive, something I no longer do). But somehow I am conscious that this appointment is the turning of the cycle from the good news-based optimism immediately after a "good scan" coasting along until the time to the next scan is shorter than the time since the prior one. That's where I am now. Midway between scans. That means every day brings me closer to the next scan. The next scan - toward the end of April - is a big one. It marks my two year anniversary post-treatment. Assuming it goes well - and I have no reason to believe it will not - then I believe I will go from visits with both doctors every 3 months to visits every 6 months, and from scans every 6 months to 1 scan a year. Two years NED (no evidence of disease) is an important milestone. The first. The next big one will be five years.

Anyway, that's where things stand.

Meanwhile, cat-sitting - actually, not sitting, just stopping by twice a day - for a couple of days for my friend H's new kittens, Pearl and Paulie (who began life as Polly until the first vet visit indicated Paulie might be more appropriate). Not sure exactly how old they are now - but definitely still kittens, 3 months maybe! If watching a couple of kittens tumble around and wrestle and drag a toy "bird" around and pounce on it and anything else that moves - if that doesn't put a smile on your face, then just take a few minutes to enjoy the Republican battle for the presidential nomination.

Peace

Sunday morning

Odd weather - shirt sleeves in mid-January in New England. Mother Nature is having a hot flash. Does that mean she is menopausal?

Posting really to share this link to a clip from a documentary in the works about a very special school in Georgia. Gives me hope. Keeps the sun in my sky.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ctqfilms/a-place-in-the-world

Please go and share.

Peace.

Friday evening

The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

(To hear the poem read: http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2009/rv-listeners/poem_berry-thepeaceofwildthings.shtml )


Peace.

Saturday night - New Year's Eve

Happy New Year to all. Is it possible that in 2012 we'll begin to treat each other with respect if not kindness and care for the planet as if we understood that our lives and our children's and grandchildren's lives depended on it? I have to hope so and nurture faith in my fellow human beings. I have faith in nature, in its ability to be challenged, to repair itself and go on. And we human beings are part of nature, whatever grandiose (and wrong) ideas we may have about ourselves.

But in the meantime, still so much suffering. Poverty. War. Disease. Hunger. Loneliness.

My prayer of hope for this new year 2012 - may each of us be free of fear; may each of us be healthy; may each of us be happy; may every single one of us live in peace.

Sunday morning

Ella and I went to the park this morning. I awoke - actually Ella woke me (David and I had gone to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie last night and got home and went to bed later than usual) later than usual, after 7:00 am, so arrived at the park at around 7:30. A bright and beautiful and cold morning. The sun already 15 degrees over the horizon, a position it may usually just be reaching as we leave the park. The season's first skims of ice formed on the pond. We also were at the park yesterday, and yesterday there was a flock of Canada geese there. Yesterday was a still chilly morning and the flock of geese floated almost motionless across the pond, as if planted in soil rather than floating on water. Today no geese at all, a couple of Mallards and that was all. On our way around the western loop we met a friendly man and dog (the latter named Malya) and I let Ella say hello. The man was - as often is the case - quite taken with Ella and asked questions about her. Meanwhile Ella and Malya became acquainted - Ella on lease, Malya (male) not. Eventually I let Ella go and the two had quite a romp. Ella is twice Malya's size but his littler teeth were just as sharp and he was not shy with his nips if Ella got out of line. It was good for Ella. I wish I had more occasions when I felt comfortable letting her romp with another dog.

Today's walk in the park reminded me of why I love going to the park. It reminded me of how good it is to pay attention to what is happening in your life right at this moment, since there actually isn't any other moment. To be caught up in what already happened - which is gone, done and over - or what might happen - which hasn't yet happened and may never happen or may happen entirely differently than you imagine - what a waste. And yet we do it. I do it. My guess is I do it more than I do not do it. In other words, most of my life I am living and not paying attention to it, but thinking (in my case at least) usually of what is to come. Why? What is so intimidating or frightening about paying attention to now? Is it that we think we'll be unprepared for what comes? The closer the end of my life comes - and even believing that I am well and cancer-free and going to stay that way, nonetheless, the end of my life is coming closer, no two ways about that - the more afraid I become of getting to the end and realizing I didn't pay attention to my life, I didn't LIVE my life, and now it is too late.

Christopher Hitchens died this past week, may he rest in peace. I type those words and wonder what he would think of them. I think he would appreciate the sentiment but not the factual content. I've been reading quite a few obituaries and appreciations of him and I realize that he seems one person who actually did live his life in the now, paying attention. His writing certainly evidences the breadth of scope of his attention. So he died at age 62, but boy, did he live those 62 years. Would that we could all say the same.

Okay, time to go pay attention.

Peace.

Friday night

I saw Dr. M this morning. I remember that there was a time when I wasn't so enamored of Dr. M; after all, it was someone in his office who initially blurted out to me on my very first phone call to him before I even had a diagnosis that "he recommended chemo therapy and radiation" when I had asked whether he recommended me coming into the office or consulting with him by phone. But I am enamored of him now. Some how, every time I see him, I leave feeling great. He radiates confidence in my continued health. One more check up with him before my 2 year NED date of April 2012. At any rate, a good visit, good discussion with him about a couple of things. Just good. I told him that Friday after Thanksgiving was the 2 year anniversary of having my fuzz cut off after I loss my hair from the first chemo. He thought it was "an emotional" or "draining" experience, recognizing the anniversary. No, I told him, it was a good, joyful experience. I am grateful I lost my hair from chemo. It did something wonderful for me. Freed me in some way from some hair-bound insecurity. At this most recent hair cut I asked the hairdresser to cut my hair "shorter" than usual. It's very short. I'm happy. Now if I can learn what "product" to use and how to use it to give a little spiky edge, I'll be even hap;pier.

I am a lucky person.

Had a scare about my son's health tonight. Turned out fine. Another reminder - I am a very lucky person.

Truly.






This old tree has, I believe, been standing on this slight rise in the park since before any person alive today was born. The blizzard of this past October stressed it but it stands.
Peace, peace, peace to all, all, all.

Saturday

Happy Thanksgiving. I just skimmed an article that said that the fact that Obama gave a speech on Thanksgiving that did not expressly mention "God" caused "outrage." Not here. Yesterday I was listening to an NPR show - that hotbed of left-wing socialistic godless atheism - on historical issues relating to Thanksgiving. It was pointed out what a perfect holiday Thanksgiving is for America, exactly because it is a non-religious religious holiday, being "thankful" for "blessings" without actually being tied to any particular religion and therefore being inclusive in a way that religious religious holidays are not. Perhaps that is where Obama was coming from? But, gee, why give him the benefit of the doubt.

I had a wonderful visit to Atlanta. Pics to be attached.




Big brother helps little brother who pulls himself to his feet and investigates big brother's Monopoly game.


























Yesterday, "black Friday" after Thanksgiving, I went and got my hair cut. I was reminded that it was the second anniversary of the day I had my hair cut off after beginning chemo therapy. Two years. Seems longer. And also, seems like just yesterday.

Ella and I went to the park in the morning yesterday and again this morning. The park is full of overturned trees and giant limbs torn from still standing trunks, from the October 30 snow storm. While we were there a full complement of Canada geese flew in and landed on the north pond. It was good to see them back.

Peace, peace, far and near.

Tuesday morning

Power to the people.

At least, power to this people - David called me at work at around 2:30 yesterday afternoon. Power had come back on. It was weird coming home to a lit street and lit house. Even this morning when I turned on a light switch, I didn't really expect anything to happen. And yet, it was almost as if nothing happened. When the local news came on, I couldn't believe any story came before the power outages. I checked this morning, and there are still 23,000 people in the state without power. I feel for them. I'm grateful to have power back. And I'm pissed at CL&P and Butler in his $1.8 million house. Worst part is, if anger swells and he loses his job, he probably has an employment contract that will pay him millions in "severance". Golden f'ing parachute. Someone needs to snip those strings.

Power to the people.

Peace.

Monday morning

Still no power.

Saturday morning

No power since 8:00 p.m. Saturday October 29. We had a snow storm - about 8 inches in my area - but with leaves still on the trees, there were branches, limbs and whole trees down everywhere. More than 800,000 customers without power. 8 days later, it's down to 230,000 without power - our neighborhood among them. It's been an interesting experience. I've been able to shower at work in the women's locker room, only having to wait in line for 20 minutes or so. David has made do with heating water on the store (we have a gas stove and that is working) and then taking a Haiti-style bath: get in the tub, ladle warm water over yourself, soap yourself, and ladle more warm water over yourself to wash off.

It's cold at night. About 50 degrees in the apartment. That doesn't sound that cold, but it grinds you down.

Still it's been interesting. I'm at Panera Bread this morning using Wi-Fi. One evening David and I went to Barnes & Noble to check email. Both times, both places have been real community scenes. People talking to strangers, getting to know each other, helping out. Perhaps we should lose power more often.

I wish there was a place that would take bets (actually, come to think of it, there probably is) on whether the power company will restore 99% of customers' power by Sunday evening at 11:59 p.m. I would bet against them. From what I've been hearing, it would be hard to find someone betting they will do it.

Many people have given up and gone elsewhere - to family or friends who do have power, to people whose power has been restored, to hotels. Some have traveled out of town. David and I (and Ella) have hunkered down.

Well, wishing peace and power (people power and otherwise) to all.

Saturday night

I can't believe I'm up this late. David and I went to a concert sponsored by a local organization - Red Hen String Band. Fun. I came home to find a message from my daughter. She sent me a 1,000 word piece she'd written for a Canadian on-line journal about SOIL's work in Haiti. I have known that she's a wonderful writer; I've read other stuff she's written, but even so, I was impressed. Once the piece is published, I'll see if I can link to it here.

The main reason I'm writing actually is that my sweet Dr. R also left a voice message for me yesterday afternoon that I didn't listen to until tonight. I don't actually see her until this coming Tuesday but she must have remembered how nervous I was last CT scan time, during the period between the scan (Friday morning) and my appointment with her (Tuesday afternoon), so she called to tell me the results were excellent. Happy news.

Occupy this has spread not only across the U.S., but the world.

Peace.

Out.