A Fond Farewell

Today we bid the fondest of farewells to Marvin Kaplan.

Husband, father, grandfather, friend. It didn't seem like he was quite ready or that we were quite ready but 85 years, good years, is a blessing. I hope he knows how much he was loved, and that he is at peace.

Good News for Slackers

Thank you to everyone who signed up for the Paddle Lung Cancer Dead and Kill It event. Participation has exceeded expectations, and it is sure to be a fun adventure, especially for you, Ruth. No sneaking out of this one. You are getting in that boat and heading downstream. If you end up upstream, well, some things just can't be helped.

The deadline for registering has been extended to April 24. So all you procrastinators with names like Bernstein, Bordett, Cynman, Gaslowitz, Martin, Perlman, Somerstein, Steine and West still have time to sign up. Did I forget anyone? If I did and I remember who you are, I will do another blog post just for you.

xoxoxoxo

PS Steve B we miss you.

Good News and Other Stuff

The Other Stuff first.

This is like the last day of the semi-annual public radio fund raising week. No time left to make your pledge. This is it. This is the end of line. There is NO MORE TIME to register for the Paddle Lung Cancer Dead event. You have to sign up today. Or else. The boats (not votes!) have to be counted. There will not be another opportunity to get one. This is the drop deadline. It's now or never. Really.





Oh, the good news. Today's lung xray was clear. NED. No evidence of disease.



See you on the river!

Spring Break 2009

Fatal Attraction?

Two times last week I was confronted with the word "fatal." The first time it was aimed directly at my apparently imminent demise. The other encounter referred to someone else's "fatal" lung cancer diagnosis, despite her thriving lifestyle.

Well.

I am very interested in viewing the tools used to deliver this summation. Was it a crystal ball? Tarot cards? Was a seer consulted?

The grim reaper may be camped out in my back yard, but he (he is definitely a he) will not be invited in. I spend a lot of time in cars. Can I assume that I am now safe, protected from an accident that would otherwise result in my death? If my cancer is fatal, then I can totally relax during take off and landing. No more worries about a funny looking mole or crossing a busy street. Whew. That's a load off my shoulders.

And does "fatal" come with a date? That would sure help for planning purposes.

Not a single one of my doctors has ever told me that my situation is terminal, let alone referred to my diagnosis as fatal.

My deepest appreciation goes out to every single person who sees me as a living, breathing being, even if it is only with one lung. (Remember, I am doing fine with just one.) Unless you care to share with me the date, time and precise cause of my demise, I will continue to choose life. Every day.