I had my chemo infusion at the hospital yesterday and I wear the chemo pump until tomorrow. I think and hope that 20 years from now people will look back at chemotherapy for the treatment of cancer the way we look at trephination for the release of evil spirits. My mom accompanied me to chemo, as usual, and departed for Maine early this morning.
Some people have asked me about the LGBTQ reference in a previous blog post. I have seen/heard that extended to LGBTQQIA for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Questioning, Intersex, and Allies. I am an ally and proud of it. At WWU I served on the LGBT Advocacy Council. I have a placard on my office door that signals that I intend to be an ally and a safe resource.
Technically, LGBTQ is an abbreviation or initialism, not an acronym, because it does not form a pronounceable word (I don't think). SCUBA (Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus) is an acronym because you can say it as a word (in fact, by now it can be considered a word in its own right). IRA (Individual Retirement Account) is a borderline case because it can be pronounced as a word (like our Dr. Hyman's first name) but is often said as letters (I-R-A).
If you haven't seen it before, I like this classic satirical essay about homosexuality and the Bible:
http://www.snopes.com/politics/religion/drlaura.asp
Like a good liberal/progressive, I think our interpretation of texts such as the Bible or the Constitution can and should evolve as our culture evolves. I think originalism, such as that promulgated by Justice Scalia with regard to the Consitution, is a ridiculous philosophy. Should we consider blacks as 3/5 of a person in the census because the Founding Fathers did? Should women have the right to vote? Clearly the existence of an amendment process shows that the Founding Fathers recognized that things change as new issues and knowledge arise.
For example, the 2005 Supreme Court decision to ban the execution of individuals who were minors when they committed their crimes (Roper v. Simmons) overturned a 1989 Supreme Court decision to allow the practice. Justice Kennedy, who switched positions, wrote the 5-4 majority opinion and cited "evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society." Needless to say, Scalia dissented.
The American Psychological Association (APA) supported the Roper v. Simmons decision, citing research that adolescents are not cognitively mature as evidence that the consequences of their actions should be judged differently from those of adults, and that minors should be given a chance to mature into productive members of society. In his dissent, Scalia, I think cleverly, argued that the APA was being inconsistent because in a 1989 case the APA submitted an amicus brief that argued that adolescents are cognitively mature enough to make abortion decisions without necessarily obtaining parental consent. The APA responded that the cases and considerations are different enough that there is no inconsistency, but I think Scalia succeeded in calling into question whether the APA's positions are based on objective scientific facts or subjective moral-political biases.
I doubt this would make either side happy, but modern philosophy of science holds that there are no such thing as "objective scientific facts." Scientific beliefs are continually revised in light of new evidence, and the research process cannot be entirely insulated from human biases. But at least scientific beliefs are based on evidence and not simply personal taste, popular vote, or antiquated tradition, and the research process and replication can control for, if not eliminate, individual biases.
Ethan
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Basketball
I went to the university to play basketball yesterday but because of the MLK holiday nobody else was there except Kirk. We shot around, chatted, and played two games of Pressure (a 3-point shooting game). I shot unusually well in the Pressure games - I would guess around 75-80%. Kirk is one of the better 3-point shooters in our game but I won 21-5, I think, and 21-3.
I played basketball today - 4 games of half court. I felt the best physically I have in a while - quicker and more coordinated. I decided to keep track of my 3-pointers: I made my first 5, then 7 of my first 9, then missed my last two. I also had some good post-up moves. The last game was 2-on-2 with Ernie on my team. Ernie is around 75 but still pretty good. We won and that was satisfying.
Seth's first two basketball practices (Saturday and Monday) went well. We seem to have a good bunch of kids and I enjoyed working with them.
Tonight we had my friend Ben and his parents Richard and Helen over for dinner. Richard played the autoharp and Miles was entranced.
I have chemo tomorrow so I might be out of it for the next few days.
Ethan
I played basketball today - 4 games of half court. I felt the best physically I have in a while - quicker and more coordinated. I decided to keep track of my 3-pointers: I made my first 5, then 7 of my first 9, then missed my last two. I also had some good post-up moves. The last game was 2-on-2 with Ernie on my team. Ernie is around 75 but still pretty good. We won and that was satisfying.
Seth's first two basketball practices (Saturday and Monday) went well. We seem to have a good bunch of kids and I enjoyed working with them.
Tonight we had my friend Ben and his parents Richard and Helen over for dinner. Richard played the autoharp and Miles was entranced.
I have chemo tomorrow so I might be out of it for the next few days.
Ethan
Monday, January 17, 2011
Flashback
My friend Vandy sent me this awesome picture from a Burning Man festival in the late 90s. Burning Man is a crazy festival in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada every Labor Day weekend that culminates in the burning of a giant wooden effigy (the "Man"). Apparently our friend Jonathan Ainscow found this picture on the internet, taken by someone else. From left, that's Lynn, me, Jonathan, and Vandy.
I went to Burning Man several times in the 1990s. I hear it's more controlled now. It was really crazy back then. I first heard about Burning Man from Catherine (always ahead of the curve). I first went with Michael and Lauren and met up with Catherine, Angela, and others there. Lynn and I went to one during our first few weeks of dating and my car broke down in the desert (that's quite a story). The last couple times we went with Vandy and Leo and other friends. Later some of our SF friends had our own mini-festivals in the Black Rock Desert. We would bring something to burn (Burning Chair, Burning Futon - my old futon after I finally got a real bed). We have some great photos from those trips, including some taken by Hannah (an amazing photographer). Black Rock is such a dramatic landscape. When you see car commercials of cars driving across a big flat dry expanse - that's Black Rock. It would be fun to go back someday.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Love
Another quote from Victor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning":
"A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth - that love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist of enduring his sufferings in the right way - an honorable way - in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment."
"A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth - that love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist of enduring his sufferings in the right way - an honorable way - in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment."
Jane & Al's visit
Yesterday Jane, Al, my mom, Seth, and I took a walk through the woods and down to the beach at Point Whitehorn. Al, ever the good sport, crawled into into Seth's driftwood fort despite the damp weather. Today we all, plus Grace and Miles, took a walk in the Stimpson Nature Preserve. Al, again the good sport, stayed with Seth for an hour while Seth floated sticks down a stream and Jane, my mom, and I did one of the loop trails. Jane made a yummy chili and we had some friends over. There was also a football game but the less said about it the better.
Pics from our walks: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/2384
Pics from our walks: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/2384
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Anger
I was thinking some more about anger. My Aunt Vicki wrote me about her experience working with people dying of AIDS. She said that "some were wild with anger and fought it to the end and others took a softer approach, embracing it and learning to live with it." I guess I aim more for the latter approach, although sometimes I wonder whether more defiance might help me hold on longer. I am reminded of a quote from the essay Steven Jay Gould wrote after being diagnosed with a type of cancer that had an 8-month median survival time (Gould actually lived for 20 more years):
"It has become, in my view, a bit too trendy to regard the acceptance of death as something tantamount to intrinsic dignity. Of course I agree with the preacher of Ecclesiastes that there is a time to love and a time to die - and when my skein runs out I hope to face the end calmly and in my own way. For most situations, however, I prefer the more martial view that death is the ultimate enemy - and I find nothing reproachable in those who rage mightily against the dying of the light." (http://cancerguide.org/median_not_msg.html)
(The last line of course echoes the Dylan Thomas poem, which you can read and hear read by Thomas himself at this site: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15377 - Macromedia Flash Player needed to hear poem)
Since being diagnosed with incurable cancer, I have struggled with how to live. I have decided that there is value in trying to die well, although I'm still trying to decide what dying well is. Is it graceful acceptance or going down fighting? Some combination? I'm skeptical of the "battle" metaphor for dealing with terminal illness (e.g., "Mr. Smith lost his battle with cancer..."). Maybe it's my competitiveness, but I don't want to think of my death as "I lost." But maybe engaging my competitiveness is the key to not losing.
I just finished reading Victor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning." Frankl survived horrific conditions in Nazi concentration camps, but lost his entire family and all his possessions. One of his points is that we cannot always choose our circumstances, but we always have the freedom to choose our attitude toward our circumstances. He argues that life inevitably involves suffering, but we can survive great suffering with dignity if we can find meaning in our lives, including in our suffering. From the book:
"The way in which a man accepts his fate and all the suffering it entails, the way in which he takes up his cross, gives him ample opportunity - even under the most difficult circumstances - to add a deeper meaning to his life. It may remain brave, dignified and unselfish. Or in the bitter fight for self-preservation he may forget his human dignity and become no more than an animal. Here lies the chance for a man either to make use of or to forgo the opportunities of attaining the moral values that a difficult situation may afford him. And this decides whether he is worthy of his sufferings or not."
"It has become, in my view, a bit too trendy to regard the acceptance of death as something tantamount to intrinsic dignity. Of course I agree with the preacher of Ecclesiastes that there is a time to love and a time to die - and when my skein runs out I hope to face the end calmly and in my own way. For most situations, however, I prefer the more martial view that death is the ultimate enemy - and I find nothing reproachable in those who rage mightily against the dying of the light." (http://cancerguide.org/median_not_msg.html)
(The last line of course echoes the Dylan Thomas poem, which you can read and hear read by Thomas himself at this site: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15377 - Macromedia Flash Player needed to hear poem)
Since being diagnosed with incurable cancer, I have struggled with how to live. I have decided that there is value in trying to die well, although I'm still trying to decide what dying well is. Is it graceful acceptance or going down fighting? Some combination? I'm skeptical of the "battle" metaphor for dealing with terminal illness (e.g., "Mr. Smith lost his battle with cancer..."). Maybe it's my competitiveness, but I don't want to think of my death as "I lost." But maybe engaging my competitiveness is the key to not losing.
I just finished reading Victor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning." Frankl survived horrific conditions in Nazi concentration camps, but lost his entire family and all his possessions. One of his points is that we cannot always choose our circumstances, but we always have the freedom to choose our attitude toward our circumstances. He argues that life inevitably involves suffering, but we can survive great suffering with dignity if we can find meaning in our lives, including in our suffering. From the book:
"The way in which a man accepts his fate and all the suffering it entails, the way in which he takes up his cross, gives him ample opportunity - even under the most difficult circumstances - to add a deeper meaning to his life. It may remain brave, dignified and unselfish. Or in the bitter fight for self-preservation he may forget his human dignity and become no more than an animal. Here lies the chance for a man either to make use of or to forgo the opportunities of attaining the moral values that a difficult situation may afford him. And this decides whether he is worthy of his sufferings or not."
Friday, January 14, 2011
Religion
I don't feel angry about my situation often, because (a) I'm often too tired to feel angry, (b) there is nobody/nothing to be angry at, and (c) I don't want to be filled with negative feelings. But the other day I did feel a wave of anger, not for myself but for my sons. I think their lives would be better with me around, and I felt angry that I might not be. I don't want to offend anyone's religious sensibilities, but I don't believe there is a just god who would cause or allow my sons to be deprived of their dad. I don't believe there is any higher meaning or purpose in that. Even if some positives can be found in my situation, they don't justify it.
I'm not anti-religion. I was raised Episcopalian and even was an acolyte (altar boy). I did have an angry atheist phase in adolescence, like many people. I became a more mellow agnostic in adulthood, in part due to conversations with my college roommate Curt Chase and his then-girlfriend now-wife Lisa, both people of sincere faith. I still can't take religion literally. It seems obvious to me that mankind created gods, and not the reverse. When people speak literally of a God, it sounds to me like defending the existence of Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Invoking God as an explanation for anything, such as our existence, just replaces one mystery with another - so who created God? I don't think science can answer some basic questions either - why is there something instead of nothing? where did matter come from? what was before time?
I think religion has value. The community it provides can be very valuable. The moral framework it provides can also be valuable. I think the moral philosophy of Jesus Christ is incredibly admirable. The world would be a better place if more people, including many who call themselves Christians, actually practiced it. I have a problem with how Christianity has become claimed by conservatives in this country. I think Jesus was a liberal and if he were around today many conservatives would think he was a dangerous socialist hippie. I also have a problem with Christianity being used as a cover for discrimination, such as against LGBTQ people.
OK, I need to put Seth to bed.
Ethan
I'm not anti-religion. I was raised Episcopalian and even was an acolyte (altar boy). I did have an angry atheist phase in adolescence, like many people. I became a more mellow agnostic in adulthood, in part due to conversations with my college roommate Curt Chase and his then-girlfriend now-wife Lisa, both people of sincere faith. I still can't take religion literally. It seems obvious to me that mankind created gods, and not the reverse. When people speak literally of a God, it sounds to me like defending the existence of Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Invoking God as an explanation for anything, such as our existence, just replaces one mystery with another - so who created God? I don't think science can answer some basic questions either - why is there something instead of nothing? where did matter come from? what was before time?
I think religion has value. The community it provides can be very valuable. The moral framework it provides can also be valuable. I think the moral philosophy of Jesus Christ is incredibly admirable. The world would be a better place if more people, including many who call themselves Christians, actually practiced it. I have a problem with how Christianity has become claimed by conservatives in this country. I think Jesus was a liberal and if he were around today many conservatives would think he was a dangerous socialist hippie. I also have a problem with Christianity being used as a cover for discrimination, such as against LGBTQ people.
OK, I need to put Seth to bed.
Ethan
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