I guess it became time for me to write again, as I'm not sure anyone even reads this, or why. Major life changes happen, and attitude is critical to making them positive. How do you do that when your wife of 32 years deserts you? She passed away after several weeks of agonizing pain from her multiple myeloma. Grieving takes many forms and on a psychological level I had heard of the cycle including anger. That's definitely part of it as it really does feel like she's deserted me. Her cancer was turning the bone lesions of her first bout into fractures. The pain was unmanageable, despite narcotics that seemed beyond tolerable. Her oncologist finally determined she should be hospitalized solely to better manage her pain. Her cancer wasn't responding to the chemo and we had already been in contact with hospice care. I've received all the love and support from family and friends that one can imagine. Two brothers, two kids, loving friends all there in support. I truly am a lucky man. John has collected financial information and I've now got an advisor whom I know I can trust and whom I know is smarter than everyone else. So now I'm in an empty house, except for the two cats. Our old dog Java decided it was time for her to go too, so she shat in the house a couple of times to remind us how old and feeble she was. Having a vet come out to the house and having family comforting the pet as the drugs take affect is the best goodbye available. June 11th just before midnight she cried a tear. Michelle has been at her side, taking her turn telling Betty how much she was loved, and that it was time to go. It seemed as if Betty finally had a moment of lucidity, too weak to speak, she opened her eyes and tried to lift her head. At that point, her daughter, her son, her sister and her husband were all at her side, thanking and loving her all that we could. My primary thought was the need for passage of a death with dignity law. Her last several weeks were an exercise in pain, heavy narcotics and suffering. It's now been three weeks and my grieving is all but over. I was a basket case for several days and slowly got better each day. I decided my lifestyle of a few years ago when Betty was still working had been a good one. I was at the golf course almost every day, walking 18 holes and seemingly in the best physical condition of my life. My weight was at its lowest and motion was easier, moving around what felt like a significantly lighter body. I'm about 235 now and would like to drop about 20 lbs. I expect to do it, too. Three days this week and each finish validates that it's good for me. I've shot 86, 80 and 78 those three days and it doesn't feel at all fluky. My game has improved and with it, my confidence in my game, and that's the best way to get better. So now I've emailed and communicated with an old friend whom I expect to meet with after decades and see how we feel about each other. It's been a difficult spring for old ladies in my network of awareness. Recently deceased in addition to Betty: Norma, the woman who ran a daycare in her rundown Watsonville rental and provided nurturing to our kids from the time they were babies until they started school just around the middle of May. Holli, my old friend Jody's wife of 40 years whom Betty and I spent time with when we were in Rohnert Park before they moved to Oregon, a little later in May. Betty's Aunt Shirley, her mom's sister, who was 91 and whom we got to visit just a few days before she passed, just last Sunday. I know as we get older that more of the people we've known for all these years will eventually pass. The key must be that it's them, not me. I've got things going very well and still feel like a lucky man. No good way to close here, but that's enough for now.

Still managing, not having enough fun, but shouldn't complain. It so rarely does any good. The good news is that I've now been 13 months since my last seizure, mid December of 2013. That one occurred just as I turned off the power to Pat's Prius at her house, dropping her off after our dinner. We'd already dropped off Dave at Aegis. For whatever reason, I thought I'd forego my scheduled doobie before dinner with our old friends. Big mistake. Without the cannabis, tapering the phenytoin left me too under dose. With the seizure, Doc Butowski agreed to change meds, and I began my Lamictal prescription. It's been over a year and I'm getting tired of these side effects. There was a significant relief from depression when I stopped the phenytoin. The Lamictal, being also prescribed for bipolar disorder in addition to being an anti-convulsant, has increased my emotional sensitivity so much that I cry every day, only when I see something very positive, and I feel their perspective and happiness for them, and I tear up. No bawling, but involuntary crying. Weird and I want it to stop. Doc Butowski isn't as knowledgeable as psychiatrists on the various medications involved so he's referring me to a psychiatrist at UCSF. The hope is that person will be able to start me on medications with minimum side effects and complete seizure control. Cannabis daily is still my medicine of choice, but since having a 4 day cold several weeks ago, my cough hasn't cleared up as much as I expect it to, and the smoking exacerbates it. 218 golf rounds posted last year is a personal record that will never be repeated, unless the medication gets magical. My fatigue feels like more now than it did a year ago, but I know it's always been there and may have been worse than I remember. This blog is more a diary for me, and since so little changes, posting here only randomly pretty much covers everything. Oh yeah, I had my semi annual MRi last week and there remains nothing new going on in my brain. That's good news. No tumor growth.

Not much, right? To say? I'll ramble here because that's what I'm getting best at. In my mind. No idea really how this is going to read and not much concern about it either.  I did notice it's been 14 months since my last entry. Depression seemed to be the driving issue there. I've since learned that the Phenytoin I'd been forced to take because of the seizures had actually been given some form of FDA alert for suicide watch due to the depressing side effect in the drug. I began taking it in October of 11, six months before that post where I described the lead suit and lethargy that I felt as a result of depression. My last seizure was still six months in the future, coming last October, and I'm now in the 4th of 6 stages of tapering, down to 200 mg. a night from 500 and planning to be off this nasty pill by the time I turn 60 this summer. So far so good and feeling very optimistic about the freedom from this pill, known for its side effects including depression, bone weakness, liver damage, confusion, dizziness, balance issues, headache, etc.
Golf is coming around as I've learned how to better keep my left arm straighter and my focus on the ball at impact. A new putter grip did well on its first day, with six one putts on the way to an 81, six under 'cap.

the battle continues

There are good days too, but man, what a struggle it can be when you get a bladder infection. I'd been to the urologist last fall as the frequency and urgency both began increasing. January prescription for antibiotic Levaquin, which I learned only through research was chemotherapeutic and after I'd begun to feel the numbness that was in my toes and diagnosed as a side effect of my original chemo, now entering my calves. Doc hadn't said anything about cancer or chemo, so I called after hours so address it. Partner to Andy Knorr, David Benjamin was on call that night and said something to the effect that antibiotics can sometimes do as much harm as good, and you have to be careful with them, and that I didn't need to continue taking it. That was sometime in mid to late January. Going back to early March or before, I'd been experiencing short notice urgent calls to prepare to pee, and didn't always respond quickly enough, although I never lost it completely, I did have minor explosions of pee jumping out just before I could get properly directed, occasionally getting enough on me that I took to using Michelle's roomate's hairdryer in their bathroom at USD, and my hotel room. Betty then bought some Depends and when I got home from San Diego I got into bed and stayed there from Tuesday night until going to the doctors on Friday the 6th. I struggled through that experience more than anything I can recall ever experiencing, at one time responding to Glenn's , "Is there anything else I can get for you?", with "a gun". Extreme lethargy accompanied by a headache that extends down to the toes. I've analyzed it sometimes feels like a lead suit, and can only theorize that it's depression of an extreme order, but I'm already taking the Cymbalta, so suck it up.

Journal

I haven't been keeping one, and now with Glenn's advice, I'll attempt it. The cause is my modifying meds to address seizures and pain. The seizures are getting 500mg. nightly of Phenytoin, except last night's midnight 500 was feared insufficient so I got up at 3 and took another 200. I was up anyway. Last night earlier in the evening I had the worst headache of all time, lasting 20-30 minutes. I took my first Lyrica, had a 37.5 Venlafaxine earlier in the day. Bed about 1 and the headache returned. I'd smoked two bowls and had as bad a night as ever.
Headache returned this morning to about 90% of what it had been last night. I took a Lyrica and the headache subsided. Maybe that's the key, although I still feel the physical weight of depression. It doesn't feel mental, but physical and I'm considering writing Butowski about everything and proposing a different antidepressant.

Valentine's Day

She's in bed at 9:00 this morning, and I'm happy if she's happy. Java got me up and I've eaten and pilled and earlier was proud of deciding not to play golf today, even before I knew it was raining this morning. I'd actually thought I might get out and do a few things more in the garden, firewood, etc. But not with it raining. I'll stay in and serve my queen when she's up and desirous.
 Speaking of gardening. Oh, let's cover the pills first. I've settled into a regimen of 37.5 mg. of Venlafaxine each morning and evening. Last night I couldn't find the 75 mg. bottle, and was looking for it thinking I could use a boost. Yesterday was smooth at work, but I didn't sleep well the night before and was tired and questioning whether or not I needed a bit more of the Venlafaxine. I found it this morning, but took the 37.5 both last night and this morning, feeling much better with a good sleep. Glenn was here and left early this morning, not waking me before he left as Betty said I was snoring. I see that as a good sign that I was sleeping well. I'm still getting up a few times a night to pee, but I don't think it's a prostrate problem, as I had the PSA test months ago when the same nightly condition existed. I just want to drink in the evening, both wine and water, and the result is my bladder fills and refills. I don't have any trouble peeing, and each time it's a good volume. No prostrate problem.
And the garden. With the great weather we've been having, I decided to start the seed germination process a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday, upon examining for the first time to see, I had three seeds that were sending out little sprouts. What I hope will be the beginning of my next harvest. I prepped the garden and planted them. It rained last night. Is that great timing, or what? I see it as a very good sign.
 And that's another part of what makes me a lucky man.

I'm a sick man

Crazy, in fact. Depression is a sickness, right? It's not unusual for me to be down this time of year, but it's worse this year. I'd been proudly smoking my cannabis and managing just fine without any of the prescribed anti-depressants for several months, but with the winter weather, the cough/cold and poison oak outbreak, I have become more depressed and begun using the little pills again, upping yesterday's dosage to a second 37.5 mg of Effexor(venlafaxine). I even contemplated going to the 75 mg. this morning, but now have decided that another 37.5 will do me fine. I took a smaller toke also, theorizing that the less I abuse the sore spot in my throat, the less I'll cough. It may work, as I'm much better this morning than last night, which included the two basketball games and pretty continuous use of my voice for a few hours. What a fun way to spend some time. Golf this morning, so up early, getting ready to head over to Ed's house where he'll drive us down to Laguna Seca to play with the workers who can't play during the week (it's Saturday 1/15).
MRI scheduled 2/23 contributes to the depression, no question. It happens every year. I just don't like winters and don't care if I never see Bear Valley again, at this point anyway. It's likely I'll see it again, just not snowboard, but who knows?
I started this blog last night, feeling really lousy, and I took that second pill, so now I feel better. I keep rationalizing to myself that I must be depressed, as lousy as I've been feeling lately. Much as I dislike the idea of putting the manufactured chemicals into my body, I can also accept that chemistry is a remarkable science, one of man's greatest accomplishments, but at what cost?
Crazy though? I am continuously reminded of the behavioral changes that have taken place since my surgery. Also of the Allman Brother's song that includes the lyrics, "good lord I feel like I'm dying". Now the third reminder that I best telling myself on a regular basis, "quit feeling sorry for yourself and get your lazy ass out of bed. Go out there and live, or lay around and die".I've never had any desire to maintain a diary like this, and I know that blogs aren't intended for that purpose, but unless I gain world fame from this banal banter, I'm pretty much hoping that no one ever reads it. That's crazy, right?