Life Goes On In Spite Of.....

Okay!

Where do I start this Web Log or journal? Bright idea! From the beginning. No, not the beginning of me, but the beginning of this spring. I won't be able to catch you "up to speed" this sitting. I'll just work on it. I will keep in mind that most of my readers will be family and friends, so I will keep it lite and interesting.

This past summer has been one of many changes for me. I announced my retirement from education in late March and dealt with that better than most. I told myself (and others told me as well) that that part of my life was ending and new one is beginning; that I was retiring from the job as a principal, but not from the job of life. I am surrounded by a lot of very smart people.

Anyway, that was in June. In early July Barb and I were off to Atlanta, Texas. (Yes, there is an Atlanta, Texas) We attended a reunion of the Thomas, Allen and Green families, my father's family. Before Atlanta we stopped in Vicksburg to see mama who had been hospitalized because she had develop complications associated with her diabetes. We left her in good spirits and headed to Atlanta. On Sunday, July 3rd her condition deteriorated and we returned to Vicksburg. Very quietly, just after mid-night, she slipped off to Heaven surrounded by her children. The medical staff commented that they had never witnessed a more peaceful passing. It's something that will always be with me. (More about mama in the summer newsletter)

I took another trip to Louisiana in early August. It was hotter than....everyday. By the time I ventured out to breakfast, bout 10AM, it was in the low 90's. I hadn't been South in August in a long time. Now I know why. That trip was for a little RnR and I promised my nephew Kenny that I would bring the boat so we could go fishing. And we did and we caught fish. Besides, fishing and RnR, I did a lot of research of my father's ancestors. I spent four days in the archives at New Orleans and Baton Rouge, Louisiana. New Orleans won't be the same anymore either, but that's another writing.

For some of you this is an affirmation and for others of you this is news. In mid-June I completed my routine physical examination which included among other things a prostrate test. You know when you get over 50 your body parts act like they don't know you anymore. Anyway the test showed that my PSA level has increased significantly since the last time. PSA is an enzyme produced only by the prostrate. It's the amount of PSA that is leaked into the blood that is measured. As one gets older the prostrate enlarges and produces more of the enzyme. The normal range for men my age is between 2.5-4.0. My first test was 12.1. The second test in mid-July showed showed it at 9.9. Dr. Nemovitz had felt a hard spot on my prostrate during the physical exam. My urologist confirmed that my prostrate was in the early stage of cancer. Meaning that the cancer was confined to the prostrate. Needless to say, I was very concerned but not alarmed. That's probably because my urologist was cool about the whole thing. Nonetheless, I was concerned about my quality of life and just plain life.

Life took on a new meaning. I developed an urgency about matters, especially family. You don't know if all will be well in the end or if the end is near. But life must go on in spite of all else. No matter the end results, I promised myself that I would not lie around and wallow in slop.

The first test put a lot on my mind during mamma's funeral but I chose to not talk about it until the results of the second test were known. The family didn't need anything else on its plate except mama. By the time I made the second trip to Tallulah I knew a decision had to be made with respect to a treatment plan. My options were to do nothing, radical surgery to remove the prostrate, radiation seed implant into the prostrate, freezing the prostrate, and radiation treatment. The second trip to Tallulah was more than RnR and family research. I was a time to think and to decide. All of the treatment options, I was told, had a 98% cure rate.

As I said before, when you get older your parts forget who the boss is and act like they don't know the rest of the body anymore. And that goes for dogs too. Beau Jangles of Buckeye, my Black Lab and hunting companion of twelve and a half years didn't fair well when I was gone the second time. He was blind, couldn't walk down the stairs to the basement and couldn't hear. He was suffering and I was suffering watching him suffer. On Wednesday, August 24 I had the vet put him to sleep. I thought it was going to be easy, but it was one of the most traumatic things I have ever done. Thursday I was close to hitting bottom. I had an appointment to see a web designer on the west side about Yogi's Gang our family web Site. She had a Yellow Lab named Katie. I think Katie knew something was up with me. She couldn't talk so I will never know what she knew. Anyway I spent most of the appointment hugging and kissing Katie. That was just the therapy the doctor ordered. Katie was happy and I was happy. Very happy.