The Interanimated Life

Speedo, July 10, 2000 - January 24, 2010

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 04:31:00 +0000

Speedo, one of our 2 Italian Greyhounds passed away in his sleep early Sunday morning.
We are reminded of him all the time now when we are at home, and he is not. He was a lap dog, more comfortable in our laps than anywhere else. He was always there at the door to to meet any of us when we got home, and he'd try to climb us when we sat down in order to playfully lick at our ears. We got Rudy, the other hound, about a year after we got Speedo. We're all hoping Rudy adjusts well to his new life without his friend and tormentor. One of Speedo's favorite pranks was to start barking in Rudy's face until Rudy started howling back. Eventually, they would bark in sequence, one, then the other, for minutes until they tired. Speedo seemed like the brighter, more spirited dog.

It was really hard to see Speedo's lifeless body lying on his dog bed Sunday morning at 7. He first appeared to be sleeping, but normally he would be up, or at least move his head to look up at me. As I stood in the doorway to the lower bathroom where the dogs slept, I rubbed my eyes to better focus on his form. His chest was not moving. Rudy was not lying in his familiar place next to Speedo. He was not even in the room. I crossed to the outside door, opened it, poked my head out and shouted for Rudy. He came running from the corner of the yard. When he got close to the house he dovetailed over to the back door, did not seem to want to come to me at the side door. Later on, I walked to the corner of the yard and found a small cleared area in the leaves where it looked like Rudy spent some time sleeping in the cold morning air. Hours before, Rudy must have sensed what happened to Speedo. He was afraid.
Speedo had a vet visit last Tuesday. Dr. Meyers was not hopeful. Speedo had been developing several health problems over the past 3 years. Italian Greyhounds do not have a long lifespan. But it amazed me how the spark and spirit of life animated that little dogs body. Like all animals, his body is the result of perfect creator engineering. Billions of of atoms, molecules, structures, chemicals reactions, come together to animate a small, nervous sack of bones and fur. For all the perfect engineering, the animal was not a machine. It was a unique spark that animated Speedo. It caused him to connect to us in ways that could never be engineered or constructed from the elements. That's my opinion. The spark, the spirit that animated Speedo has moved on, that's all. He died on his own terms. We actually thought we'd have to take him in to be euthanized on Friday. But he seemed to be doing well, not in pain by the end of the week. He still met us at the door with the gyrating tail. He still had an apatite. But he was breathing quite hard. The vet gave us some doggy valium to relax his muscles and not concentrate on the tempest going on inside. Saturday night, while sitting on the couch watching the Vikings self destruct, Speedo sat by my side and kept looking at me with his cute brown eyes. He visited with all of us in turn that night, I think. He knew he had to go. He left on his own terms. We were really glad for his nine and a half year visit with us.

Day +730 TWO YEARS

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 19:59:00 +0000

The suspense for me officially ends today.
Thanx to statistics on post stem cell transplantation outcomes, if I kick off from here on out it will not be because of 'transplant complications'. My odds of living to a normal old age are better than 95%.

Today is the day, 2 years ago that I laid in a hospital bed overlooking the beautiful Torrey Pines golf course, dying; poisoned by chemicals dreamed up by some creative geniuses sitting months before in their cubicles in some silicon valley think tank, clicking furiously on their mice to make new and strange combinations of hexogonal carbon-based chains on their CAD/CAM computer software. The jet from Baltimore had arrived the night before spewing ozone-killing gases from its engines, yet carrying various joy-giving very-late Christmas gifts as well as a life-giving small igloo cooler marked 'Biohazard'.
The poisoning had worked to perfection. Because I was a good and well-behaved patient, the hospital staff had decided to postpone my impending exit by administering daily transfusions of bodily fluids one normally doesnt give a second thought about. The poisoning produced no pain, just a deep, deep queezy feeling and dreams of an increasingly bizarre nature. The dreams were becoming less and less an activity associated with sleeping. I'll be writing more about that one day soon.
On this day in 2008 I was to witness some rare events. It started in the early afternoon. First, I was visited by 2 head nurses at the same time. Even one head nurse was a rarity in my room. They brought in a large round bag with an orange colored concoction. This was the first round bag to be hung from my chemo-tree. Every other bag had been rectangular with round edges. Those bags always came in round around the middle but left the room flat in the middle, empty. The orange bag was round and full. It was like a big orange donut. As I watched in stupefied wonderment, the nurses commenced a procedure between themselves that I instinctively knew would be very very bad to interrupt. For instance, a joke to them about orange donuts, and I'm not here today writing this hoo-ha. The nurses read the copious text on each bag to each other, saying "check" this and "correct" that. I drifted off for what seemed hours, woke up to the head-head nurse asking me "Are you James Anderson, birth date October 4, 1954?" I almost said, "Yes, but I know for a fact there is another James Anderson with the same birth date in this hospital." I really dont know why I think such things at the most inopportune times. The orange fluid in the bag seemed to be glowing. "Yes", I said, "I am one and the same person."
As Tiger Woods warmed up his clubs for the Buick Open on the golf course outside my window, and the afternoon sun shown brightly through the January afternoon mist, a concoction of Steve Ever's blood and stem cells was strapped onto my chemo tree and the pump adjusted to 200ml per hour. The thin plastic tube between the bag and the port on my chest turned neon orange. From a slow death, to a quick poisoning to an unimaginable antidote; in fifteen minutes, the mad path my life been taking had come to this fork. The orange bag was empty. I could once again take some control over my future.
On this day Steve flew home to Pensacola from Baltimore. I entered into a twilight zone. A zone of of waiting, of dreams, of existing; waiting for deliverance, hoping and praying for the next 2 years to be kind.

Steve has had good things happening in his life the last couple years; new kind and caring people, new job advancements, new responsibilities. We keep in touch often. I am very happy about this and think he deserves all good things for what he has done for me and my family. Apparently he was able to grow back the stem cells he so graciously gave me 2 years ago today. Stem cells are like love. You can give some of yours away to someone in need and it will grow back thicker than before. Wait, that makes stem cells more like hair.

Our little bit of Colorado

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 03:48:00 +0000

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

My health is still improving. I had my second baby bout with some bug or bugs in October and November. The sore throat lasted much longer than normal for me, probably due to my immune system still being in training.
Cat, Maddie and Dylan doing well too, all ready for the holiday vacation.

Last Thursday I had my most recent appointment with Doctor Jeffrey Andrey at Scripps Clinic. I had blood samples drawn on Wednesday. All systems are go. All blood counts are in the normal range with the exception of my Ferritin levels. All those blood transfusions loaded my system up with iron, the core element in hemoglobin. My Ferritin is still above normal, so I will start another 3 phlebotomies started in January. Each unit withdrawn will lower my Ferritin level. By April I should be in the normal range. My next appointment with Dr. Andrey is in May.

On January 9, 2010 I will pass a statistical milestone. The long term prognosis for 2 year stem cell survivors is very, very, very good. The graft took perfectly and I've twice been able to fight off common bugs that plague our everyday lives. But I must be respectful of the fates. I don't want to go overboard and jinx my upcoming birthday by presenting too rosy of an outlook.

Meanwhile, the 'treat' for my blog readers in this post will better be appreciated by those live in the North San Diego area. We have a wonderful scenic canyon here called Penasquitos Canyon. Hiking from I15 to I5 is a beautiful 5 mile, gently rolling, under the oaks and sycamores jaunt. In the middle of the hike is a small waterfall. It is the turn-back point for many hikers and runners who don't want to complete the entire 5 miles. San Diego does not get much rain. So our little waterfall does not make a big show. In fact, you can easily tip toe across the stream above the fall without getting your feet wet. In the summer, some of the flow is fed by a small spring a couple miles east, where the old ranch house still stands. The ranch house used to be the center of the Penasquitos cattle ranch around 90 years ago. But I'm afraid most of the water coming down the canyon in the summer is from urban runoff. The canyon is rimmed with houses built during the last 30 years. Many people over water their yards and have leaks in their irrigation system. Even so, there are places in the canyon where kids still throw their fishing lines.
I always wanted to see the canyon waterfall when it really was a waterfall and not just a bunch of gigantic rocks jutting out of the ground. So, a week ago Sunday morning I grabbed Cathie and the camera and hiked to the fall. It had rained heavy the night before. You can click on these images to see much larger versions.

I see indications by the shore that the river was a foot or 2 higher earlier in the morning.

You would definitely not want to tiptoe across this stream.

Not much, but it's our little bit of Colorado in North San Diego.

I'm going to go back for a visit after a REALLY big rain!

The wild torrents of Penasquitos Canyon.

Bye until next year,
Jim

Why the Lizard Does Push-Ups

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 00:46:00 +0000

...but more on the lizard later. First, the topical post.

August 13 I probably had my last bloodletting. Another pint of blood drained and discarded. This should bring my ferritin level down to the normal range. My next appointment at Scripps Clinic is with Doctor Andrey in 2 months. At that time we'll decide if I need 1 more phlebotomy.
In my 2 years of MDS, including the 4 weeks of hospitalization I took in around 50 pints of the red stuff from donors; just to keep me alive. In the last year, starting a few months after my transplant, I've discarded perhaps 30 pints of my own blood; just to get rid of the excess iron from the transfused blood. Interesting. My days as a human pin cushion are coming to an end. On this visit, there was a problem with my left arm vein. It was not productive, so the nurse had to stick my right arm. It was kinda like blood prospecting. First, lidocaine was injected with a tiny needle, producing a quick burning; followed by numbness. Soon followed a big needle into which the blood must freely flow from my body. The lidocaine shot into my left arm was the last from it's vial. I didn't feel the burn. The burn is actually a sensation to be welcomed because it means the wild antics from the big needle's insertion will not be felt. Turns out that last of the lidocaine in a vial is weak. On this day, the big needle was felt. My right arm got a squirt of the first lidocaine from a new vial. The small needle's drug burn was quick and shot up my arm a couple inches. Then it was out and the pain was gone. When the big needle came, it did not hurt.

Here's my perspective: An interesting end to what was once a perfectly choreographed string of phlebotomies.

Warning, there are images and an video in this post that may not be available in the email format. Please see the original post at www.interanimate.com

Here's one thing about the Western Fence Lizard. They are cute little guys. Way too cute to be feared. Over the years I'm sure everyone has seen them masquerading as dinosaurs in front of very small cameras. Take the 1966 movie "One Million Years B.C." for example. This movie had Raquel Welch running in terror from the little slip slips. I've included a photo of the movie poster and a photo of 2 lizard 'extras' pretending to fight. The lead dinosaur in this movie was a Western Fence Lizard who was deemed 'not terrifying' enough for the trailer shots. Despite their less-than-hostile appearance, the WFLs were very good actors and took their art seriously. In the 50s and 60s, many of them started doing standard calisthenics with the hopes of developing a more menacing appearance. None of the lizard actors actually got paid well. An occasional exotic fly was put into their terrarium between sets, a hot rock to sleep on at night. They had no tiny gym equipment available in their tight quarters so they did jumping jacks and push-ups. That explains the push-up way back then. Raquel got older and became a dinosaur herself while acting in another 1 million movies and tv episodes. Movie directors got tired of cleaning lizard cages. Animation technologies improved. The lizards retired from acting.

Here is the other thing about the WFL, and is also true for many small Lizards. Millions of them across the America still do pushups; on rocks, on dirt, on fences, everywhere. It turns out they've been doing push-ups for millions of years. For those of you who have never seen this amazing stunt, see the attached video. If you sneak up upon a lizard, you may often see it doing quick push-ups. These aren't sissy push-ups. These are military style push-ups. From a prone position to a quick jerk upwards with their heads at attention. Once in a while you may see the more buff lizards doing the one handed push-up. Very rare.

Scientists have debated the cause for lizard push-up behavior for decades. It seems the consensus is that push-ups are some kind of lizard language/display/mating behavior. This article gets very scientific with a study on different push-ups and what they all mean. Do NOT attempt to read that article. If you think my little dissertation is putting you to sleep... Well, I'm here to say 'BUNK' to the common theories. No, I'm not going to say they are trying to buff up any more. Those days are gone. And they know it.
I've been studying lizards for years. By 'studying', I mean that I've momentarily observed and marveled about their behavior several times since I was, like 7 years old. My recently developed push-up theory is so simple I don't know how it could have been missed by the scientific community.

Many small animals have side facing eyes. This is a great advantage when you are small and tasty. You get an advantage of a nearly 300 degree field of vision. With this kind of perspective you are not so easily duped by predators sneaking up behind you. Predators, like humans, cats, dogs, eagles, falcons, owls, etc, have forward facing eyes. This is a great advantage when you are trying to sneak up on small tasty animals. You get stereo vision with 2 eyes looking the same direction. Each eye sends a simultaneous, separate picture to the brain. The brain merges the pictures together to make a 3D image of the prey. This gives you a great advantage when it comes to the chase. You can see depth, the distance between you and your dinner. The animal with side facing eyes has little if no, 3D vision. The lizard can see more objects around it but it cannot sense the object's distance.

The poor, lowly lizard. Who cares? As you know, reptiles are amongst the oldest land animals on the planet. They were once pretty big. They once ruled the earth. When things changed the big ones didnt do so well. The smaller reptiles who could hide in the earth survived a long period of harsh conditions. When they emerged, they had competition; they became the hunted. I like to think of the common fence lizards as One Lizard. One Lizard, with it's body comprised of millions upon millions of independently operated franchises. Kinda like Starbucks. There is one in every corner... of your back yard. After all, the same (almost exact) DNA exists in each and every lizard. They are part and parcel of the One Lizard. To survive over millions of years, the One Lizard had to adapt to changing conditions. But the change could only come from the bottom up, from the feet on the ground. The One Falcon and the One Bobcat, amongst others, were always trying to make life impossible for the One Lizard, by eating him. The Falcon and the Bobcats were getting smaller and faster. The One Lizard was caught in an evolutionary vice. The One Lizard was in deep doo-doo. The Falcons and the Cat were pretty happy cuz the Lizard was easy to catch. All too often, the tasty little reptiles just sat on the rock and didn't make a move to escape...until it was too late.

Here's what I think happened.

Hundred of thousands of years ago one female lizard laid some eggs that had a genetic mutation. The DNA in her eggs had a slight flaw from the normal. Mutations have always been common when cells divide. The copying process is prone to errors. Almost 100% of the time, the errors result in nothing. The new cell, the egg, dies. Once in a great while a mutation survives. Of the mutations that slip by, almost 100% result in slight changes to the lizard that do nothing to help the lizard survive. It gets an extra toe. It gets a slightly longer tail. The mutation neither helps nor hinders the lizard, so the expressed trait eventually disappears.

The mutation on this long ago day slipped by and became expressed. The eggs hatched. The new lizards emerged to face the hostile world. This batch of lizards looked no different from their hundreds of siblings or cousins. All toes accounted for. Same lizard odor. Same lizard size and shape. But something changed in the brain. These sisters and brother lizards had a brain that was able to perform a new trick. None of them knew they were different from the rest of their once huge family. Most of their hundred of brothers and sisters were already gone. In many cases, without ever having laid an egg or tasting their first fly, the siblings were eaten by birds or cats. Only by multiplying in vast numbers had the One Lizard been able to survive over the countless millenniums. Most of this special brood of lizards survived to lay their own eggs, thousands of them. All eggs carried the same genetic mutation. Over time the mutation became part of the One Lizard.

What the One Lizard learned starting with those first few franchises was amazing. It learned how to artificially create stereoscopic vision like that of it's predators; by doing simple push-ups. An image of it's surroundings is taken at ground level, and a second image is quickly taken at the top of a push-up. The 2 perspectives from each eye are sent to the brain and the brain returns the concept of depth, in a nearly 300 degree field of view! The Lizard knows how far away an object is located, how fast the object is moving, and in which direction. Birds and Cats now have a really hard time sneaking up on a lizard.

In short, the Lizard does push-ups to get a new perspective.

18 months - All Green

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 23:01:00 +0000

Yesterday I had my most recent 3 month appointment with Dr. Andrey of Scripps Clinic.
Dr. Andrey was happy to report that All systems are green. Blood counts are all good. Metabolic panel counts are perfect. My white counts are still a little low but are of no cause for concern. My iron counts have come way down. Normal Ferritin counts have a range of up to 400 ng/mL (nanogram per mililiter?) of blood. At worst, my count was around 4,000. Since getting around 20 phlembotomies over the last year my count is down to 614. I had one more phlebotomy yesterday, another pint of blood drained off. I'll get one more phlebotomy and I should be in the normal range.
Lately I've been wondering about the swine flu pandemic. They always say that people with 'compromised' immune systems are in more danger from such illnesses than people with normal immune system. Dr. Andrey now places me in the 'normal' immune system group. That is a big relief. I still carry around hand sanitizer and slop it on my hands, shopping cart handles, everything.
I took this week and most of last week off and took Dylan on a car camping/canoeing/hiking vacation in N.California. We hooked up with Rob in Marin county and he joined us for the weekend activities in Hendy Wood State Park and on the Big River near Mendocino. My energy levels were great, took no naps, did lots of rowing and hiking. Had a great vacation with the kids. Life is good.

Meet Dr. Jeffrey Andrey

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Mon, 18 May 2009 03:07:00 +0000

Thursday I had my first round of vaccinations. 5 shots in my arms. These really are small needles so are not a big deal. I'm quite acclimated to needles anyway. This is what I was vaccinated for: Diphtheria, Tetanus, Pertusis, Polio, Haemophilus Influenzae (Hib), Hepatitis B, Pneumococcal disease. The last one is the biggee. Pneumococcal disease kills more people in the US each year that all other vaccine-preventable diseases combined. I'll be joining the ranks of vaccinated in one year after my final doses.

I'm sure it was just a coincidence, but Saturday morning I got up, walked downstair, opened the bathroom door to let the dogs in. When I bent over to pickup a pooch... yikes!, pulled a muscle in my back. It wrecked some activities I had planned for the weekend. I ended up laying around a lot popping Motrin for the pain. I've never pulled a muscle just bending over like this, so I'm gonna suspect the vaccines.

On to the pictures you see here. The first one I took of Dr. Andrey and I at the clinic Thurs afternoon. He was kind enough to take a few minutes to pose while Robin took a couple pix. You can click on these photos to get a larger size. I was going to cut myself out of the photo of Dr. and I cuz I'm not happy with my continuing acne condition. To solve this vanity problem I simply exported the photo to jpg and compressed it 26%. This has the effect of reducing details in the photo. Thus, compression is a marvelous way to get rid of the things about your face you don't want others to see. As I get older, I'll be upping the compression.

The second picture is one of Peter Sarsgaard. I should first mention my purpose here. As a followup to my last post I realized I wanted a picture of Dr. Andrey and I. After all he is also one of the angels who rescued me from MDS. Kind of a 'technical' angel, but an angel he is none the less. I also wanted to show you how Dr. Andrey is a dead ringer for the actor Peter Sarsgaard. The third picture going down the page is one of Dr. Andrey as posted on the Scripps Hospital website. The picture, I understand, was taken around 10 years ago. Dr. Andrey said he grew the beard cuz patients were wary of his expertise, thinking him too young.

The last picture another one of Peter Sarsgaard taken when he was younger as well. I don't know what to tell you. It's kinda like having a celebrity doctor. If I knew how to contact Sargaard, I'd surely alert him to the existence of his angel twin. But then, you know, that's prolly the exact reason why celebrities keep their contact information private. How could he possibly know that I'm not just the run-of-the-mill wacko-stalker fan? I mean, I'm not really a fan anyway. I couldnt even name most of the movies he's acted in. It's just the look-alike thing... Nevermind... Sigh...

At any rate, this post is my Thank You to Dr. Jeffrey Andrey of Scripps Memorial Hospital in San Diego for his wonderful care, his dedication to his patients, his encouragement, his positive attitude, saving my life, and oh, his good looks. His sense of humor is very endearing as well.

Not My Blood

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 19:48:00 +0000

A strange thing happened to me on April 16. At a routine visit to Scripps Green Hospital, Dr. Andrey alerted me to the results of a lab test done in January.
The test indicates that the blood flowing through my veins is not my own. In other words, the report shows that the DNA in all of my various types of blood cells is not my DNA. After his announcement Dr. Andrey had to quickly leave the office for a minute. Unfortunately this left my imagination alone to run wild.

My knowledge of medicine is not extensive. I studied biology at USCD during college. My interest in biology waned when I studied Biochemistry; something about the Krebs Cycle. My foray into Genetics the previous year should have warned me that all was not well with my choice of Biology major. I achieved a 'B' in the study of Mendel's pea plants. At any rate, I'm pretty sure from all my reading that each organism possesses only it's own DNA. Therefore, I had to search elsewhere for an answer to Dr. Andrey's startling news.

First up. Was my body snatched? Had alien beings and taken over my body? I discount this theory because mentally I feel the same. Although, that might be part of the process, not to think you have been taken over. On a similar thought, had I been snatched up by an alien spacecraft and become the subject of their experiments? If this was true then there would be a gap in my presence at home. Surely a family member would have noticed my disappearance for a few days. Unless; they had also been abducted at the same time and do not know it themselves. If I had been abducted how and why did the aliens replace my blood with that of someone, or something, else?

Before I could start thinking up really crazy reasons for my alien blood DNA, Dr. Andrey came back in the room. I dont actually have a picture of him to show you. But it turns out he is a dead ringer for the actor Peter Sarsgaard when Peter is sporting a beard. I found the picture to your left on the internet. Apparently Peter is married to Maggie Gyllenhaal who's brother is Jake Gyllenhaal. Jake starred in the movie "The Day After Tomorrow", which had a scene where Jake gets into a New York Taxi driven by Rik Magon, who I worked with for a year in 2001. Rik just happened to be in New York the day they were filming in 2001. The director picked him out of a crowd to be the taxi driver. What does this have to do with anything? I don't know. Just thinking I guess. Anyway, Dr. Andrey had the explanation for my strange blood. I don't know why I didn't think of it before, other than the fact that it was a lot more fun telling you this way. It turns out... that I had a stem cell transplant 462 days prior. Yes, the alien spacecraft was actually my room at Scripps Green hospital overlooking Torrey Pines golf course! Because my own bone marrow had decided to retire without consulting with me, the doctors performed this procedure that only used to be the stuff of science fiction.

They pumped me full of nasty chemicals that killed what was left of my old derelict marrow stem cells, then they pumped in some stem cells from an angel who now happens to be living in human form, in the same town I was born; Pensacola FL. Steve donated his stem cells though a simple process in Baltimore Maryland on January 8th. Less than 24 hours later his gift was on the opposite coast, being transfused into my vascular system through a plastic tube coming out of my chest. You see, the Body Snatchers explanation seems much more believable, eh?. Last weeks chimerism report results are very good. No sign of my old stem cells coming back. Steve's generosity has given me new life. All else looks good. I feel that I am totally back to normal. Healthly. Energetic. Thankful for life, for friends, for family. Thankful to God.

NOT GUILTY! Citizens Shocked!

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 22:11:00 +0000

San Diego, CA; March 24, 2009
County Superior Court Finds Offender 'Not Guilty'

In a surprise twist to the lengthy legal saga involving James Anderson, a resident of Penasquitos, and the County of San Diego; a supreme court commissioner found Anderson not guilty of a section vc22350 crime. The much anticipated trial ended in the favorable verdict for Mr. Anderson, and a black eye for the Sheriffs department. The lone sheriff left standing in the court was clearly dismayed and had this to say, "This isn't over yet. Our city is not safe with Mr. Anderson on the street and unpunished for his heinous crime." Many parents with children in the 4S Ranch area seem to agree. A community activist, Elba Mayhem, present for the trial stated, "This man is, and will continue to be, a menace to our community and our kids. We will seek to pursue greater protection from Mr. Anderson by consulting with the San Diego Sheriff and perhaps the Department of Homeland Security."

So, yeah. That's my foray into newspaper journalism today. Gotta work on it. Like more and more cities across the country, our fair city may be without a major newspaper soon. They are falling like flies passing over one of Maddies volleyball shoes removed immediately after a weekend tournament. News will have to start coming from your average citizens. Like me. Except for me. I won my traffic court case in which the County charge me with driving 52mph in a 25mph school speed zone. Winning such a case is rare, or so the bailiff says.

Now I first have to quickly do serious damage control. Speeding in front of a Middle School makes people wince, especially those of us with kids. I have 1.5 kids and it makes me wince. It must have taken the commissioner a lot of nerve to find me not guilty of the charge.

When interviewed about his stunning acquittal Anderson said, "I don't know what the big deal is. I was charged with a Basic Speed Law violation when no such violation actually occurred. I simply pointed this out to the commissioner and he agreed."

There was no community activist, no dismayed sheriff. But there was a trial on my case, it was very interesting, and I did prevail. I decided to fight the charge because, going 52 in a 25 is a 'major', two point violation that would have caused my insurance premiums to become large enough to support the bonus packages of several AIG executives. Not to mention the $400 fine and the 'no traffic school' flag. In addition it kinda bothered me that the charge hangs on a sign that cuts the legal speed in half "when children are present". At 7:48am Monday the posted speed is 50mph. 10 minutes later the posted speed is 25mph; "when children are present". I did not see any kids. The Sheriff positioned his cruiser in front of the only area where kids start getting dropped off, and near impossible for people approaching from behind him, to see. He apparently starts issuing tickets as soon as the first car drops off. Not fair I say. Besides, why dont those flashing yellow warning signs just say "School Zone. 25mph when flashing". End of story. My driving record remains unblemished. Sometimes you gotta fight for it.

Based upon the days court session and listening through several other cases, Anderson gave the following advice to California motorists, "First of all, when stopped, be very respectful to the officer. But also say as little as possible. I guarantee that whatever conversation goes on between the 2 of you will be repeated word for word by him/her at a trial. Most of all, do not admit guilt. Even if you feel like you are guilty you may not be. If you are cited for CA vehicle code 22350 (basic speed law) you may be in luck because that is the broadest code and easiest to contest. But be warned; in any court contest of only your word against the Sheriff - you will lose. Be prepared. Full stop vs. rolling stop. Fugedaboudit, you rolled through. For this reason, you may want to look into getting a camera mounted in your car that records video and audio automatically as you drive. As the economy worsens, look to see more revenue generated for local governments by traffic enforcement activities."

Today I watched several people swear they made full stops at their respective stop signs. They were all found guilty. But, hey! No need to get paranoid, right? trafficsafetycam.com, spytechs.com.

Only Bad Witches are Ugly

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 17:16:00 +0000

"Only Bad Witches are Ugly" -Glinda, Wizard of Oz, 1939

No bad witches in my most recent, and final, bone marrow biopsy report.
I got a copy of the report from the nurse yesterday at my phlebotomy. The report is prolly meant to be translated by a doctor, but I can pick out the key news. Since this was my 6th BMB I know what to look for.

"bone marrow is normocellular with orderly hematopoiesis"
- red blood cell production is active and normal

"significant dysplastic features are absent from all three lineages."
- Red, White, and platelet cells are NOT abnormal (dysplastic)

The final report that I dont have yet from the BMB is the 'Chimerism' report. Somehow, the lab analysts can count the stem cells in the sample and group them into 2 categories;
1. Stem Cells of Donor DNA.
2. Stem Cells of my own DNA.
As far as my marrow stem cells go, it would be far greater if they all showed the DNA of my donor. My last 2 Chimerism studies showed 100% donor. I cant imagine this will change.

I have only a few phlembotomies left now. My iron levels (Ferritin) are rapidly returning to normal. The procedure takes only 15 minutes. The silver lining is that I get to visit with my wonderful nurse friends I've known for almost 3 years now.

Well, finally got my first 'cold'. I'm happy to report that it is a lot less severe (so far) than my last cold in November of 2007. I've taken off work the last 2 days in order to recover properly. My new immune system is handling this bug very nicely. Yay!

So why the leading quote from the Good witch of the north? I dunno. I got kinda fascinated with the Wizard of Oz last month in terms of it's many messages of hope and redemption. I thought Glinda's quote was kinda funny. I re-watched the movie, read the screenplay, and read the original story by Frank Baum published in 1900. It's amazing how different the screenplay is from the original.

The Weekend of Oz

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 19:21:00 +0000

On the night of Jan 9 I was looking forward to a nice dinner with Cat, Maddie, and Dylan. I had been on the phone with Cat during the day and she said we should celebrate the 1 year aniversay of my new stem cells. I'm way up for that, I thought, maybe even drink some beer and toast the wonderful donor who made it all possible. After getting home from work (yes, back at work now), the fam seemed to be ready except there was a glitch. It seemed that Cathie's very good friend Anne had her mother flying in from Colorado, but Anne could not pick her up. To convince me of the predicament, Cathie had me listen to Anne's message on our answering machine. Anne was really in a pickle and sounded desperate (I'll leave it at that). I was ok with the whole thing anyway, cuz the plan was to pick up Anne's Mom and then go to a restaurant near the airport. Anne's son Cody would pick up his grandma soon thereafter. It was a small favor we could do. We drove down to the airport but I had not taken my jacket. Upon arrival, I wanted to remain in the car with the heater on. Cat said, "No, I dont get to see you enough during the week, you must come into the terminal with us". Wow, what a sweetie, heh? I did not put up a fight, went along, but thought it was kind of strange. We walked into terminal 2 to the foot of the escalators where there are also some arrival/departure monitors. Mmm, no flights scheduled to arrive from Colorado. Hey Cat, "where is she arriving from?". "Dallas". Mmm. Only a few minutes passed and I saw this gentleman at the top of the escalators, starting down. I noticed him because he seemed to wave down to the four of us, no one else was around. When he got down to our floor and walked towards us I realized that we would have more company to toast my donor. Walking towards us was Steve Evers. I hadnt recognized him at first from the picture I took off Inka's blog last August. But this was the man who made it possible for me to be standing there that night, with my family. This was the man whose blood now literally flows through my veins. And now he was conducting secret operations with my wife! Ha! Well, they had me totally fooled they did. For the record I did NOT EVEN REMOTELY imagine that that was about to happen. You can rest assured that you can now hire Cathie to arrange your future surprise parties. I truly hope that her talents continue to be used only for 'the force'. If she ever decided to use her talent for duplicity to benefit the 'dark side', I will be in deep doo doo. The encounter with Steve at the airport set one of my surreal mental bookmarks. I'm still very choked up about it. Steve gave me a hug right off the bat and made me feel like a brother. I was beside myself, whatever that means. But really; Steve's blood and mine are an identical DNA match so... I was beside myself. Um, Yeah... I wanted to wait around for Anne's mother but Cathie said, "It's alright honey", as she patted my head and showed me to the automatic doors. "Cody will pick her up later". Well, I guess that was awright. My head was spinning anyway. As we made our way up i15 to dinner at The Claim Jumper, the 5 of us talked like a group of monkeys who've discovered a new mango tree. We had a great evening. I've been holding this tidbit back cuz I wanted to establish how we spent some serious time with Steve before I developed an impression. Steve is a total angel! This may still be a little pre-mature because there is more to this story, but I have to tell you. He and I got along like brothers. He is such a gentleman and a kind, caring, patient soul. My heart was really taken by this guy. Cathie said it best a couple days ago, "I'm going through Steve withdrawal". He took a big chance when he accepted Cathie's invitation weeks ago to visit here for this surprise, to spend a weekend with people he's only known from 2 letters and 2 phone calls in the last 6 months. I picked him up at the Double Tree and drove him to the airport for a 6:20am flight home Monday morning.

Sometimes, things work out totally different than they first look. Going back to the diagnosis of my bone marrow disease (MDS) 3 years ago. It seemed so final. The many sick days ahead, the early end to my life, the ensuing chaos for my family. After last weekend I cant imagine my life taking any better route than it has. It was such an incredibly enriching experience meeting and spending time with Steve.

Back to the weekend story. Friday night, discussing the weekend, Cathie suggested Steve and I spend some time in the morning. After that, the family would take him to lunch and see some sights in San Diego. Steve was stationed here 20 years ago. The city has changed so much since then and he's been living in Pensacola, FL for many years.
I picked him up at the Double Tree at 9am Saturday morning and we drove to Torrey Pines beach and parked the car. We hiked to the Del Mar power station along the Coaster tracks trail. I was a great morning. We got to know each other better, sharing stories about working for the Navy, families, travel. I kidded with him about Friday night, how Cathie was able to pull off such a surprise without raising my suspicions. I jokingly said I'd never be able to trust her again. Har dee har. After all, I was talking to her accomplice. After the hike I took him back to the Double Tree and waited outside while he got some things. It took a while. It was around 12noon. I received a call from Cathie asking if I could stop by Costco to get a bag of dry dog food. No problem. I ran the errand by Steve when he got back to the car and he was cool with it. It'd be kinda fun he said, cuz they don't have Costcos in Pensacola. They have Sam's clubs in FL. Hey, I've always wanted to see a Sam's club, I thought! I get it. Mmm. What a guy, this Steve. So nice, so agreeable. So, it was off to Costco. While I was there I thought, buy a pizza too! I phoned in the idea to Cathie. "Sure!", She said. "Great idea". What a gal, this Cathie. So nice, so agreeable. Gad, I was living a charmed morning. I Spoke to my dad on the cell phone around 11am to tell him about Steve's surprise visit. He was overjoyed, said he would tell Mom. After Costco, Steve and I drove back home. Parked outside my house was my Dad's car. How nice, I thought. So nice, so agreeable. Dad decided he wanted to meet Steve so he drove over from La Jolla. His car was flanked by a couple other cars I did not recognize. We usually dont get many people parking on the street outside our house. Must be people visiting neighbors I thought. I could not park in the garage, cuz, drat that Dylan. He parked his car up against the garage door on the side I usually drive in. Mmm. I'll have to talk to that young man, I thought. I parked on the driveway behind Dylans car. I took the pizza box out of the car, Steve grabbed the huge bag of dog food and we walked to the front door. Unlocked. Cool. As the door opened I first saw a table with food off to the left. How about that Cat, fixing a nice lunch here, I started to think as the door opened. "Surprise!", everyone shouted as I stood there gaping at the scene. Drat! Duped again! I quickly thought, before I was overcome with emotion at seeing the faces of most of the people who made it possible for me to be standing there. Another mental bookmark. These are exactly the kind of moments I want to remember the rest of my life. This is how I felt; like Dorothy, at the end of 'The Wizard of Oz'. In the scene, she's in bed, finally awake after getting hit in the head by flying debris tossed by a tornado days before. Awake from a fantastic dream she finds herself surrounded by the people she loves, people who aided her to get home in her dream. They are all looking at her asking her how she feels, "we were all so worried", they said. Back at my door, I stood aside and let Steve come in, the (kind of) Wizard of my Oz. Everyone was eager to meet him. In a span of 4 hours, Cathie, Maddie, Dylan, Anne, Jennifer, Pat & Dave, had put together a fantastic party. There were several tables of great food, newly planted flowers inside and out, balloons, drinks. I had the opportunity to thank many of you in person who were critical in helping me maintain a positive outlook in the first few months of my recovery last year. Thank you all again and again.

It was a magical weekend that I will remember forever. I guess there isnt much more to say on that.

But not so fast. Hee hee. Please allow me to indulge just a bit on the Wizard of Oz.

Isn't this the story of the endurance and triumph of the human spirit? This is the story of a severely head-injured girl who has lapsed into unconsciousness and possibly a coma. To get 'home' to her family and friends she realizes that she will have to muster all her courage, intelligence, and heart. She has much doubt about her ability to do it. In her dream state, she hears the voices of her family around her bed providing encouragement. If she stays where she is, the wicked witch of the east (her illness), means to consume her. She strikes off to find her way home. When she finally gets close to what seems to be the way out (emerald city), she finds that she must reach inside even deeper to free herself of the illness if she is continue on. Only with the help of the voices of her family and friends, she is able to conquer her fears and vanquish the darkness trying to take her. Her magical journey home is finally threatened when the voices around her seem to be giving up hope. The wizard, who was going to take her home in a balloon (a friend who was at her bedside) flies off without her. Realizing that the way home was not going to be provided by anyone other than herself, she reaches even deeper inside and wills herself to wake up. She passed 3 increasing levels of personal challenge. At any level she could have assumed defeat, given up, and been consumed.

And finally...
For possibly the last recovery report in a while, I have some news. My 1 year visit with Dr. Andrey at Scripps Green hospital (but at the Rancho Bernardo clinic), was Jan 15. Cathie came to this appointment. During the appointment Dr. Andrey congratulated Cathie and I on my rapid and remarkable recovery. He took me off my last prescription medicine, informed me that my iron levels were coming down very nicely due to the ongoing phlebotomies, and set the next appointment for 3 months hence. After that good news, his assistant stuck an auger in my lower back to collect a bone marrow sample. Cathie held my hand. In a few weeks I expect to get a report showing that my marrow stem cells are 100% donor!

Since this blog was created as a means to communicate with friends and family regarding my stem cell transplant I'll definitely be running out of newsworthy events. Thanx for staying with me during the last 15 months of this blog. You know how important your support has been to me and my family. I will continue to post updates when there is news. I have a few more monthly phlebotomies and will start my re-vaccinations in 3 months.

I'll post a slide show this week with pictures from last weekend. The slide show will only have pictures of people who have given me permission to include them. If anyone wants a CD burned of the 89 pictures just let me know.
Love you All!
Jim

Smart Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 20:54:00 +0000

The picture below is of Cathie's great nephews, Samuel and Parker. They were over in July for a Roedl family reunion. In the picture, they were watching TV on our couch. Sooo cute. Cathie's nephew Cory, added the captions. You might have to click on the picture to see a larger version in order to read the captions.

Day +365 A Year in the Life

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 16:23:00 +0000

It's been exactly one year today.

One day last month I was at Costco standing in a checkout line. I have been in Costco checkout lines many times over the years. They are not moments that normally produce mental bookmarks. December was a busy month. Every checkout station was open. Lines of shoppers snaked around the last parallel product isle into the 2 long pedestrian isles that run the length of the store. It was busy. It was noisy. There were lots of people. Carts were full of gifts. As I looked out across the heads of shoppers I decided to stop thinking about the things I normally think about. I stopped reviewing, for the umpteenth time, what was in my cart and whether I was forgetting something. I vanquished thoughts of what I had to do later in the day; putting up Christmas lights, checking email, checking on my Mom's welfare. I stopped it all, except for the thought of moving forward in the line when it moved. I decided to focus on the people. What was there? What could I learn from them? What were they thinking? I should say that I've done this kind of thing before. In previous years I vaguely remember similar experiments lasting only a few moments. I never knew why I did it, maybe from boredom, maybe from some desire to learn. But on the prior occasions I quickly resumed thinking about the usual things.
This year has been different.
As I focused on the people waiting in line and I shut out my own usual thoughts, I became aware of a very different scene than what I previously described. First, I was aware of a mental bookmark being made, almost like the slow shuttering of a camera lens in low light conditions. The visual image I had of the shoppers changed. I sensed and then saw an energy around each person. Stop. Obviously I'm getting into a weird part here, but I'm going to forge ahead cuz it's my birthday. Each person waiting in line began to reflect light as they stood there checking the contents of their carts, fidgeting in their purses or speaking to their kids. The reflected light from each person was not constant and was not the same intensity. Suddenly I realized this scene was similar to another scene in my memory. Sitting on a cliff over a beach at night; slight breeze, clear skies, full moon out over the ocean. As the breeze slowly glided over the surface it pushed the water into little waves that broke up the reflection of the moon. On a quiet and still night I knew I would see a whole reflection of the moon on the water. But on that night, the wind broke the reflection up into thousands of reflective pieces. Each wave, with it's own energy from the wind, reflected a different aspect of the one moon; into my perspective. Yet the moon itself was reflecting light from a higher source, the sun; which was located 91 million miles to my back. It was a dazzling display, that day at night; at Costco, on the beach. All the shoppers were luminous beings emanating energy in the form of glowing and reflecting lights; yet with no visible source of illumination. No moon. No sun. It was just us people. I really don't think the illumination was coming from the overhead halogen lights, even though one of them was kind of flickering. The light reflections were not of a halogen origin. They were of halo origin. By that I mean I realized that each person has an inner light, their own halo. I've only recently learned to get a glimpse of them once in a while. In fact, when I can see this phenomenon, I feel an immense affinity with each person. I want to communicate with everyone. I feel that if I could get in a conversation with someone, unbeknownst to them, they would be giving me a gift of themselves, a piece of their light. This might appear selfish of me if it is not assumed that such gifts must travel in both directions. That is my hope. I feel I have the same gift to offer. It just may not be readily apparent. And this is the point to my story, but not the cause. The point is, that, I've found more and more over the past 20 years, what people have to offer me, and what I have to offer them; may not readily apparent. I do not always see the value until I take the time and effort to know them. When I take the time and effort, there is always a great reward. I think people are all diamonds on the inside. But that fact is often hidden from view by what looks like a rough surface. The rough surface (in this very lame analogy) is only a perception created by my own self preoccupation, preconceptions, biases, and proclivities. So that's the point of my story. This year, I've really been learning how wonderful people are and how important they are in my life, and to the story of my life.

Now I can talk about the cause to my story. The cause has a name and her name is Cathie.

A year ago on this date as my body was being slowly poisoned by liquids running into my veins from plastic bags hanging on a metal tree with pig tail branches, I felt the cord of life loosening it's grip. There was no pain. There was just this increasing feeling of impending doom. Technically, all cell division in my body had been stopped by the chemicals. The biological party was over. The gas tank was running dry. The generators were coughing on fumes and the lights were beginning to dim. It was a nightmarish feeling. And it may have resulted in a nightmarish end if not for the fact I had a guardian angel with me in the flesh. Cathie. Those of you who know Cathie will understand what I'm writing about. As she has done so many times since I met her almost 23 years ago, she poured on the love, affection, and hope. I could easily have let that silver cord slip away if not for Cathie's encouragement and insatiable cheer. For the last year, she has been my care giver, my light, my angel. She has been the source of my awakening. She is the cause for my story today. To this day she has not flinched from her optimism. I have a lot yet to learn from her so I am determined to stick around.

Since this is my birthday I will share another quick story. This is the story of an artist.
Again, this one was inspired by Cathie.

One Artists Story.
I was born into life with an immense empty canvas. I was provided with paints, brushes and an easel. At the end of my life my goal is to have my canvas filled with the paintings of other people; family, friends, strangers. I am not concerned with how 'good' they paint. There are no qualifications for someone to paint on my canvas. They can paint whatever they want; fun, serious, angry, happy. I only ask that people paint what they feel. People can paint over other peoples paintings on my canvas. However, I may protect certain painted areas on my canvas from re-painting because I like what is on that spot. There will always be new places to paint on my canvas. People are welcome to come back to finish a painting started on an earlier date. People are welcome to continue painting a design started by someone else. I will never paint over what someone else has painted on my canvas because the paints and brushes I was provided were not meant for my canvas. At the end of my life I will show my canvas to everyone I know and say, "Look, this is the story of my life".

--

Thank You Cathie. Next week I get my 1 year bone marrow biopsy. This will be my 6th one. I'll need you to hold my hand again.

Day +277 No Highs or Lows, ALTBUN CLAST KALB, Gulp

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 17:13:00 +0000

Referring to one of my two blood test on Sept 24, there are no highs and no lows!
For the first time in almost 3 years, all CMP numbers are in the normal range! The test is called a 'comprehensive metabolic panel' or CMP. It reveals whether some organs are under stress, functioning properly. Typical components of the test are abbreviated BUN, ALT, AST and the like.
Dr. Andrey was so happy with the results he reduced my prescribed meds down to 2 from 4. That is now only 1 gulp per night for me. I'm now down to the lowest dose of Tacrolimus possible. This is further confirmation that my immune system has been trained enough to allow a resumption of normal activities outside the home.
This appointment was different than others for more reasons. First of all the Rancho Bernardo Scripps Clinic moved to a brand spanking new building across the street. The prior location of the oncology unit was in the basement of the old building. It was dark, small, and kind of cluttered. The new onco unit is on the 2nd floor of the 5 story building across from Costco. The unit is graced with large windows on 2 sides. It is bright, cheerful, and large. Parking, which was always a problem across the street, is now a breeze due to the 4 story parking structure. Before Dr. Andrey entered my examination room Thursday, I was reading my blood report and getting choked up. A quick scan of the report column between the component values and the normal ranges came up... blank! This is the column that, over the last 3 years, has frequently displayed 1 of 2 single letters, an H or an L. Some of my letters were normally H, for 'high'. Over the last few months, as my kidney and liver functions have been recovering, the level of enzymes indicative of organ stress, have steadily dropped. Now they are normal. As a consequence of my good numbers, Dr. Andrey, for the first time, did not do the usual poking around in my mouth and belly looking for various inflammations. It's been a long road. I feel a debt of gratitude to everyone who has enabled my arrival at this milestone.
Of course, the great doctors, nurses were instrumental for their medical skills. Deserving credit are all the patients who have walked this road previously and provided the data needed to fine tune the transplant process. Many did not make it to my point, but their experiences have been analyzed and all the lessons learned from past failures have been put to good use in giving others a better chance. The stem cell transplant treatment is still considered a clinical trial. On the papers I signed last year, my 'lead investigator' was Dr. Andrey. In January, I voluntarily participated in a clinical trial for a post-transplant drug. That drug, Maribavir, may become part of the normal protocol for post-transplant treatments. It worked well for me although I still dont know if I got the placebo.
I applied and was selected to participate in a study being conducted by the Mt. Sinai School of Medicine, 'Sharing our Strength, Life's Journey After Transplant'. This is a study that, I think, will attempt to quantitatively link transplant success with psychological factors. The study will also test treatment methods devised to increase transplant success rates. After the first couple phone interviews, my role in the study will be in the form of 4 writing exercises over a 1 month period. I'm not exactly an impartial study participant. I feel that my recovery success, to date, has largely been a result of the support from my family, including all of you, my blog family and friends. A particularly sensitive time for me was the first 4 weeks of the process. Your support was overwhelming and made *the* difference. My chemo brain was playing strange tricks and it was all of you who pulled me back from the abyss.

Day +245 A Question of Passion

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 17:44:00 +0000

A father once said, "Son, you have tried for many years to become a successful actor but had no luck. You continue to live hand to mouth and your health suffers. Maybe it's time you look for other types of employment." The son replied, "Dad I love acting. I'll never give it up."

A wife once said, "Husband, you have been in several bicycle accidents and had many broken bones. Maybe you should give up this hobby for your own good." The husband replied, "Dear wife, I love riding my bicycle. I can never give it up".

A friend once said, "My best friend, you have had a serious accident on your motorcycle in which you lost control; but you survived with only cuts and bruises. Maybe motorcycle riding is not a good match for your personality." The man replied, "Dear friend, I love riding my bike. I will never give it up."

A stranger once said to another, "Stranger, I saw you hyperventilating just now to the extent that you passed out. Maybe you should give up breathing." The other replied, "Kind stranger, thank you for your concern. But I love breathing. I will never give it up."

for Trevor White - 1987-2008 - A Man of Great Passion

Day +240 A Friend Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 20:10:00 +0000

I am physically well today, not so much mentally. Today, a very special young friend has been lost to a motorcycle accident a couple miles from my home. Trevor White passed away at the scene of the accident. We think he was on his way to work. Trevor was very young and leaves many hearts broken and missing him already. All of us Andersons have known Trevor for the last 13 years as his mother and Cathie became good friends through their connection at a preschool where Trevor's brother Cody and my son Dylan were classmates. We are all very sad for Trevor's mother Anne, father Steve, and brothers Cody and Weston. It is such a shock for the heart to realize that this wonderful and vibrant young man will no longer be with us. God bless his young soul and help comfort his family. He was loved by many.
News story.

Day +233 Eight Months All is Well

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 18:04:00 +0000

Yesterday's appointment with Dr. Andrey happily produced no surprises. He has given me the go-ahead to mingle with people in normal environments. Doctors are pretty conservative with their assessments, so his directions are significant. Now I can feel safe going to a movie, working in an office, eating at a restaurant!
It's kinda weird doing this well for so long. I've actually felt pretty well both physically and mentally for several months. It's been the danger of opportunistic infections, as gauged by the doctor, that has kept me home. He says my immune system is like a baby's immune system, except that babies start out with a jump start from their mother's immune system. It takes plenty of time and training for a new immune system to be ready for serious battle with everyday pathogens.
My iron levels are slowly going down due to the phlebotomies. My dry eye and mouth problems seem to be going away. My WBC is 3.9, Hgb is 14.1, Plat is 232. My metabolic panel shows that the elevated liver enzyme counts associated with liver stress are going down. The counts have been slightly above normal, probably because of the iron overload.
Thanx to Steve my new stem cells are operating like all of yours, cranking out red, white and blue cells as needed. (I'm calling platelet cells 'blue' cuz it's an election year). Thanx everyone!

Day +229 Hero of the Year

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 05:04:00 +0000

I met and spoke to Steve on the phone for the first time yesterday. He gave me permission to link you to his story, posted on Inka's website Jun 29, inklingsdesigns.com.

Here is Steve's story:
Show and Tell Monday...Who's Your Hero??.

Steve Evers is my hero. Please read his complete story. Thank You Inka and Steve.

Day +227 Bridge Show, Better Half Letter

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 23:01:00 +0000

This week was interesting. Thursday I had my 6th phlebotomy, the wonderful nurses at the clinic drained another pint of iron-laden blood from my veins. Unlike the previous visit, the pencil-sized needle, (inserted after a bee sting of lidocaine), found the sweet spot. The pint was drained in only 10 minutes. The other 4 chemo chairs were empty. Two weeks ago the chairs were full. During that visit, there was a young Mexican man from Guadalajara named Carlos in the chair next to me. He and his beautiful wife chose to get treatment for his lymphoma in the U.S. where they give him a 95% chance of recovery. Really nice couple. An angel, she runs a clinic in Mexico for sick underprivileged kids. Ok, back on track this week. They did not have me on schedule for some reason, so there would have been a problem if not for the fact that the chemo room was deserted. Maybe that's why my procedure went so quickly, the nurse gave me her full attention. Yesterday, Friday, I traveled to the hospital in the other direction, to inhale a mysterious gas out of a plastic pipe in a room well stocked with old People magazines. This event was interesting cuz this was the first time I've traveled for a gassing by myself. The concern is that the gassing leaves one a little woozy, not a good state in which to operate a motor vehicle. But I had a subsequent visit with the head transplant nurse, so any dizziness wore off during that time. The reason for the visit at the BMT (Blood and Marrow Transplant) unit, where I was incarcerated in January, was that... Cindy had a letter from my (better-half) donor! Yay! The letter was on a single sheet of typewritten paper that she placed in my hand. We talked for a few minutes. Dr. Andrey was behind the counter with a new haircut so I complimented his hairdo. Linda, one of the many angel nurses I got to know in January, appeared out of nowhere and gave me a hug. Karen, one of the original transplant nurses, along with Cindy, stopped by to chat. It was great. I caught Dr. Andrey looking at me for a minute or two, just smiling. What's going on there is simple; his job would be dismal and depressing if he didnt get the occasional success. I've heard stories, actually from his mouth a year ago, of the very bad things that can occur when a human being is injected with someone else's stem cells. He was brave to tell me these stories, knowing that I might react by taking my transplant business elsewhere. However, being an honest man he decided to scare the shit out me. Both he and I are all smiles now. At some point, Cindy took the donor letter out of my hand, saying she wanted to edit it a bit more. Mmmmm. After a brief absence, she returned with the sheet. It had become a copy and it had 3 word blacked out. She said she first blacked out the words on the original and then made a copy so that I would 'not be able to decipher' the words. Mmmmm. The letter was very nice anyway. And now I know that the donor belongs to a (censored) group. He has received a state-level award from the group for his stem cell donation. He is now in the running for the same award at the national level. If he wins that award, he will have to travel to (censored city) in (censored state) to receive it. Mmmmm, and Wow! He also indicated that he is having difficulty with the notoriety because he felt he was "just doing the right thing" by being a stem cell donor. More things that I learned are that Mr. donor has a grown daughter, he is divorced and he is getting a promotion at work. Well, to all this I say: His daughter is the luckiest daughter on earth, his ex wife must be crazy, and he should be made president of his company! What can I say? I'm his greatest fan! I'm glad he is getting the recognition he deserves with the award. Mr. Donor, if, by some impossibility, you are reading this. I suspect you did a lot more than just drive across town to get a few shots to make this happen for me. If you were not near a donation center and had to fly somewhere far away from home and had to stay in a hotel for a week during the prep I hope you allow me to reimburse you for your expenses! Thank you Mr. donor.
And now for today's post entertainment, for your viewing pleasure, to the right of these words (you might not see this if you are reading this via Email), there is a slide show of a piece of the San Diego Trans-County trail as it winds underneath the I-15 freeway between the Mercy and Poway Rd. exits. I posted a story about this hike last month.
My Dad and I have hiked to this location several times to sit and talk on the Kara Knott memorial bench in the Kara Knott memorial park. We've decided that the other memorials located throughout the park are dedicated to other young people who were also also murder victims. Ok, so that last sentence does not qualify as entertainment. However, this is a good, beautiful, yet thoughtful hike to make if you live in the area. Maybe it's a transplant thing, but I've recently developed an appreciation for bridges, not unlike my buddy over at The Journal of a Prizefighter. Hey, I should do a photo shoot on the Coronado bay bridge!
To wrap it up, next Thursday is my next doctor's appointment. I suspect Dr. Andrey will give me the all-clear to expose myself again. Er.. I mean... to a normal life, along with it's inherent risk of contact with germs, bugs and various bacterias and nematodes. Trips to subtropical Africa are still out of the question.

Day +209 Iron Man to Retire, Normal Day Approaching

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 19:38:00 +0000

At last Thursday's Dr. appointment there were no surprises. Everything is near-perfect with my stem cell transplant recovery. The dry eyes, mouth and low sweat problems are lingering; no better, no worse. The Dr. still has me on the same Tacrolimus dose of 2Mg/Day. This may be keeping the dryness from getting worse. However, it's kept me in recovery mode for 2 months longer than was possible. He thinks Sept 1 will be the time when he can reduce the Tacrolimus to a mere 1 Mg/Day. That low dose will be the signal that my new immune system is ready to handle real world situations. My 'normal' day is fast approaching; not that I've been sitting around in a bubble the last couple months. For the next couple years, I'll need to take more precautions than immune-healthy people. GVHD symptoms, I have learned, can suddenly appear at any time. My blog inspiration buddy Duane over at thejournalofaprizefighter.com has seen an increase in skin problems on day +339. Recently he's contracted some kind of intestinal bug. I am very thankful not to have had these kind of problems so far.
I've had 4 phlebotomys. The Dr. thought my hemoglobin was coming down a little too fast (13.0) so he has spaced the phlebotomys out to a 1 pint every 2 weeks for the time being. My Ferritin (iron) level has been reduced to around 2450 from 3200 prior to the phlebotomys. The normal range tops out at around 400. Elimination of another 12 pints of blood (with it's extra iron) will get that number down. This morning I had to inhale my tri-weekly dose of the antibiotic Pentamidine. I might have 2 of these treatments to go before my immune system can be trusted with my health again. Meanwhile I have to keep up on ordering my remaining 3 prescriptions.
Thank you for all your support!
Jim

Day +177 Independence, Birthday, Overreacting

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 20:18:00 +0000

Happy Independence day! I hope everyone had a great day!

I wanted to let you know that yesterday was Dylan's 18th birthday. We have a new man in the house. We did whatever he wanted, which was to see a movie, eat out, and open presents with his family. Next weekend we will have a back yard party for him with his friends. Dylan is rapidly approaching 6 feet in height. His shoe size is bigger than mine and he has more hair on his legs than me. I still have him beat in hat size though! He is a senior in high school this year and has a real positive attitude about learning and education. He has been a wonderful help and inspiration to me this year. Good kid!

Yesterday I was happy to be able to report actual medical data on my progress. Going a month between doctor visits means that, if I am to post more than once a month, I have to write about the more subjective aspects of my recovery. One day I may collect enough of my thoughts to write something coherent about my 'mental' journey covering the past 6 months. Some of you have asked about this. However, I know such a post will be a great opportunity for me to ramble so I'm putting it off until I can compress into something of reasonable content and size.

Regarding 'overreacting', since yesterday I have been trying to find the right analogy for explaining the overreaction of a new immune system to a minor injury like a sunburn. So here it is. Imagine a convoy of heavily armed Blackwater contractors traveling through a busy marketplace in Sadr City and a firecracker goes off next to one of their vehicles... Yikes! I'll be staying in the shade!

Day +176 Good Numbers, Phlebotomy

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 18:30:00 +0000

All my blood line counts are up from last month! See the blog page. Even my white cell counts are up a tenth. At today's appointment Dr. Andrey said the whites always come up slower because T-cells have to get 'educated' by the lymphatic system, Lymphatic U., so to speak. Dr. Andrey was very positive about my progress. He did say, for the first time, that he thinks I am definitely experiencing some minor, chronic, GVHD symptoms. These are: dry eyes, dry mouth, some facial rash, and some skin itching (without rashes). This means he wants to keep me on Tacrolimus for the time being. Supposedly, if I were not taking Tacrolimus, these GVHD symptoms would be more pronounced. These kind of symptoms generally disappear as the new immune system becomes accustomed to it's new surroundings. So I am to drink lots of fluids, use the 'Tears II' solution in my eyes from time to time, and occasionally employ the bamboo back scratcher that I obtained in a tropical drink years ago in Waikiki. The GVHD symptoms are very minor so I feel very lucky. However, even light symptoms are considered a problem because it does not take much to cause the new immune system to overreact in unpredictable ways. That is the reason SCT patients are told to stay out of the sun. A common sunburn can cause the new immune system to go bonkers, to start mistaking good skin cells for alien invaders. It's kind of a a tight rope for the first year after a SCT. The new immune system is kept mellow by the Tacrolimus and eventually learns to discern friends from foes on it's own.
My Ferritin level tested out at 3132 ng/mL. Normal range is 10 to 291. All those blood transfusions the last 2 years loaded up my system with iron (Fe). The body has no way of getting rid of iron once it enters the vascular system. The excess iron gets stored in places where it doesnt belong, eventually damaging organs. With my newly functioning red blood cell system able to make lots of blood now, the way they get rid of excess iron is to perform a phlebotomy, not to be confused with 'lobotomy' where they snip the connection between the prefrontal cortex and the rest of the brain. In the phlebotomy procedure a nurse inserts a needle into a vein in your arm and drains a quantity of blood. Starting today I will have this done weekly for around 16 weeks. Each pint of blood removed will eliminate 1/4 gram of iron. The blood, of course, is useless and cannot be donated. It is thrown away. How strange. I went from needing blood for 2 years to now needing to get rid of it. In 16 weeks I should lose around 4 grams of iron, bringing my Ferritin level down to normal. The 1 pint drained each week represents only about 6% of my circulating blood, so I will only feel slightly fatigued during the period. Not to worry, I am used to feeling much more fatigued because of the chronic anemia I experienced for more than 2 years.
With all your help and support I will continue to try to beat the odds and stick around a while longer! Thank You!

Day +172 Hiking to Cara, Bachin It

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 20:17:00 +0000

I had a good week except for one major problem. My family was gone. They boarded the germ factory called a Boeing 737 and flew off on their annual vacation to Cathie's home town, Lake Mills, WI. They return tonight.
Dad and I hung out and were able to find a new trail to hike every day of the week. We found some great ones. At this point we are trying to walk different segments of some of the same trails we discovered previously. Maybe I'll write a book, "The Hikes of Ranchos Penasquitos". It really is amazing how many trail hikes exist in this area. San Diego's 'Trans County Trail' provides some great jaunts. One of our best discoveries last week was the TCT trail portion between Black Mountain Road and I15. This turns out to be a very nicely shaded trail in the canyon with a running stream. We ran across some kids fishing in the stream. If you park at Canyonside, the round trip hike to I15 is approximately 1.5 hours. If you park at Ridgewood Park you can cut the trip in half. When you round a certain turn in the canyon, the 100 yard wide, massive I15 bridge between Mercy and RPQ Blvd suddenly appears in the west sky overhead like something out of a science fiction movie. Next to the I15 bridge is the old I395 bridge, rising out of the canyon to only half the height of it's replacement. As you walk under the 100ft high bridge, the sounds of traffic drown out the sounds of the Phoebees and finches chattering in the steam-side trees. You can't see the traffic, even from a distance. However we saw a lone yellow grading tractor sitting on the west edge of the southbound lanes. It was parked directly over one of the 100ft high columns. Caltrans is in the process of widening the freeway at this point and down to the south. On the East side of I15 you are still in the canyon. There is a single lane, mostly unused, road leading North-South to a waste water treatment plant that is visible in the canyon below to the Northbound I15 travelers. The road, Cara Way, is special. Dad and I first became award of this due to the fact that the road had numerous retaining walls on either side that were decorated in reliefs by a local artist. The designs were a celebration of the Kumeya’ay Indians. I could tell that great expense went into designing these retaining walls on a road that I thought just led to a treatment plant. We walked a hundred yards down the oak and willow tree lined road toward the treatment plant. Just outside the locked gates of the plant we discovered the reason for the fancy retaining walls. This was the location of the Cara Knott memorial park. Cara was 20 years old when she was killed by a California Highway Patrol officer in 1986. The park is a volunteer-maintained clearing with planted baby oak trees. Many trees are ringed with memorial rocks and artifacts for other young people who passed-on too early in life. Someone constructed a beautiful wooden gazebo in the South end of the 1 acre park. Walking around and reading the various inscribed memorial objects was a time to reflect upon how tragedy can strike so unexpectedly.

Day +172 Eternal Vigilance One Can Only Hope For?

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 18:51:00 +0000

Last Sunday my Dad and I attended a seminar/celebration at Scripps. It was the 21st Annual National Cancer Survivors Day. The event was held in a nice sized amphitheater at Scripps Green hospital. It was attended by over 300 people, including 3 speakers, a musical entertainer and the San Diego Union newspaper. This wasn't so much of a 'support' gathering as it was a celebration for cancer survivors. 2 of the 3 speakers were cancer survivors, the other was my doctor, Jeffrey Andrey. I want to write about Dr. Andreys presentation and mention that the musical entertainment was really good. The lone performer was Steve White. He played blues guitar, harmonica, vocals and foot drums. Everyone was stomping their feet to the music. He was very good.
Dr. Andrey's presentation was very interesting to me in terms of understanding cancer. His topic was the increasing use of SCT (stem cell transplantation) for the treatment of tumorous cancers. I've always thought of SCT for the treatment of bone marrow cancers, which are non-tumorous. A traditional SCT is meant to replace defective marrow stem cells with a donor's good marrow stem cells. With the new tumorous SCT therapy, there is presumably nothing wrong with the patients marrow stem cells. Instead, tumors elsewhere in the body are the target. How could this be?
The answer may be surprising. Replacing bad stem cells with good ones make sense, but this cannot be done without the necessary side effect of a cold 'reboot' of the entire immune system. For people with bad stem cells, they would love to not have a cold reboot. The results of an immune system reboot is unpredictable. What will the new immune system attack? The liver? The heart? The lungs? Nothing? Most people, like me, are extremely happy if the new immune system attack nothing except for invading pathogens, bugs, and other usual suspects. For SCTs done to tumorous cancer patients whose stem cells were fine to start with, they *want* their new immune system to function better than their old immune system. In other words, they want an immune system transplant. Why?
This is the intriguing part. A cancer patient's old immune system somehow became lazy. Their immune system allowed itself to be duped by line of cells that were 'not right'. In other words, the tumorous cancer cells established themselves in their body and their immune system allowed it to happen. This is how cancer gets established. Errant cells, randomly created by faulty cell divisions, are supposed to be detected and killed by the immune system. Cancer is an immune system failure. With traditional SCT's like mine, some Graft Vs. Host (GVH) reaction is expected. It is expected that the new immune system may target good organs by mistake. But the immune system may target cancer tumors just as well! They call this side effect Graft vs. Tumor (GVT). It is hoped that the new immune system will not find fault with healthy, desired, organs; but it *will* find fault with any tumor cells it finds. Dr. Andrey produced slides during his presentation that demonstrated lung tumors clearing out in one SCT survivor. This is an important frontier in cancer research. But how can we direct a (new) immune system to attack only things we want it to attack?
Eternal vigilance. One thing I've come to realize from all this is that our immune systems are the key to a healthy, cancer free, disease free life. What is it that causes an immune system to give a free pass to a new line of mal-organized cells? What happens early on when there are only a few malignant cells? Why does the immune system let down it's guard? How does it get duped? The immune system must remain eternally vigilant. Is this something we can only hope for or are there things we can do to help?

God bless!

Day +162 News From My Other Half

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 22:09:00 +0000

Today was not going to be a post day even though I had 2 appointments at the hospital. But now that I'm back I have something. One appointment was for a blood draw, a residual from the Maribavir clinical trial study I was on until April. Not much excitement there. The other was my 3 week gassing with Pentamadine. This is where I suck an antibiotic gas under a hood for 10 minutes while I read a 6 month old issue of People Magazine. Not much excitement there.
The real treat was getting a letter from my donor. Mr. 'D' sent me, through the numerous editing channels of course, a nice letter on regular paper. This was exciting to me. I'm going to reproduce it below cuz it's not really personal and I want you to see how Mr. D's life has been affected as a donor. I'm sure he won't mind me posting this.

But before typing in the letter I want to say that I am doing great. My Dad and I have been finding many hidden trails within 5 miles of my house for our hiking excursions. The area is literally riddled with canyons sporting old trails and roads. The wild thistle artichokes are blooming a bright purple. The plant looks like an regular artichoke on steroids. Rabbits scurry everywhere as we approach and birds drunkenly fly about after munching on the ripe red monkey berries. It's getting hot so we plan our trips for 6:30pm when the ocean breeze starts pushing the sea mist back up the gentle marine terraced slopes.
My next doctors appt is July 3. He will be advising me on whether he thinks I can resume mingling with other people in offices and other gathering places. Believe me, I'm missed many gatherings that I wished I hadn't. The fact is, we are a pretty healthy society what with all the vaccinations we received as kids. So now I, who have lost all my immunities, get to take advantage of all of your good health, which is attributable to your childhood-engineered vaccines. I can catch colds and the flu, but all the really nasty stuff is pretty rare these days due to the childhood vaccination program. I'll start re-taking the vaccinations in around 6 months.

Without further adieu, meet my donor, Mr. 'D':

Dear Recipient,

Have received your letters and I am so glad that the donation was a success. It has been a unique and rewarding experience for me. I never thought that I would get called to donate. When I was contacted in 2006 I had forgotten that I had signed up. Through talking with my coordinator I found that I had enrolled in the program in 1992 - many years and quite a few moves ago. How they tracked me down I am not sure. The coordinator told me that that was the longest span between sign up and donation that they had seen. It was obviously meant to be.

Many of my coworkers have given me so much support when they heard I was in line to donate. They had many questions. Since I have returned from the donation I know of one person that has signed up to be a donor. My employer is a big advocate for the program and is going to have a sign up drive in a few months. I have been asked to speak of my experiences during the whole procedure. They were surprised to see me back to work at full steam the day after the donation. A lot of people thought of the old procedure where the marrow had to come from the hip. (I would have done that if needed.)

As far as all of the medical terminology, I am not very well versed. Science was not my strong point in school.

I am happy to hear that you are progressing and I also look forward to the day we can exchange information. I have a 'motto' that I live by - We are all in this together. Life is hard enough and we have the choice to help each other or not.

I am not very good at the letter writing (my Mom gets onto me about it) but I will try to get better. I am using a friend's computer to write this so that it is legible. As you can tell from the card I sent that I do not have the best handwriting in the world.

Look forward to hearing from you.

Your Donor

I typed that word-for-word from Mr. D's letter, which I received from the transplant nurse today. It makes me feel great to know that Mr D's donor experience is enriching his life. I did not want to feel like his experience has not been good. Anyway, it is my intention to remind Mr. D from time to time what great things his generosity has done for my family. We will never forget his effort and hope to establish non-censored contact with him when the NBDP allows.

Day +148 Two Out of Three Aint Bad

noreply@blogger.com (Jim Anderson) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:31:00 +0000

Today was my first doctors appt since May 15.
I've been feeling pretty good the past 3 weeks. My energy continues to return. I find myself walking farther and taking on more daily projects, mindful of minimizing unnecessary contacts with crowds and airborne particles.
My father has returned to our house to stay with us for a while. He and I have returned to being walking buddies. Around 6 weeks ago, after my good 100 day checkup I released him from his co-caregiver duties and he returned home to my mom. However, even after 57 years of marriage couples can need temporary breaks. So he is a welcomed returning house guest and is keeping me honest with my daily exercise routine. He is also a great companion, enjoying a conversation about anything and is very supportive and patient.
I cant mention great companions without talking about Cathie again. She is off the scale in the companion and caregiver categories. She is actually more mindful of my health dangers than I am. Around 3 weeks ago I started developing a couple small issues and she was the first to notice one of them. I've developed a slight rash on my face, no where else. The rash is only noticeable up close and is similar to a mild case of teenage acne. The other minor issue is that my eyes seem to be drier than usual. I've experienced some dry eye issues over the past few years but this time around it is more irritating. I have to rub my eyes a lot and/or apply some 'tears' solution. Cathie convinced me to consult with the doctor about these things. It was hard for me to do this because I know that Graft Vs. Host symptoms can be much, much more pronounced, and I've never read about dry eyes and face rashes being symptoms. Well, the good doctor is not alarmed but wants to keep an eye (no pun) on the 2 things because they are sometimes an early sign of GVHD. He was going to reduce my immune-suppressant drug Tacrolimus to 1Mg from 2Mg per day, but decided against it until we see if anything develops. So maybe my 'perfect' recovery from the transplant is in doubt. Oh well. If this is the only symptom of GVHD I ever get then I'll still be extremely lucky. I've made it this far because many of you willed, wished, and prayed for it. I have to thank you all again!
My counts remain on a positive upwards trend. Now my platelets have reached a normal count. My white cells will not fully recover until I am off the Tacrolimus and Diflucan. But they remain close to normal and are not falling. My red cells remain in the normal range. Two out of three aint bad! My new stem cells continue to graft well and repopulate.
My mental outlook improves all the time. It's hard to believe that only 6 months ago I was looking down the barrel of a biological gun. Now I feel the gun has been lowered but is still lurking. I have a great hope for being around for at least a couple dozen more years! This is my fathers day present from all of you!
My next doctors visit is July 3.