What's Going On With Tom
  • Home Page
  • Tom's Blog
  • Health Challenges
    • Caring Bridge Posts >
      • 2020
      • 2019
      • 2018
      • 2017
      • 2016
      • 2015: Discovery, Chemo, Radiation
      • 2015: Interim before surgery
      • 2015: Surgery & Aftermath
      • Recovery
  • Camp Sherman
    • Camp Sherman Cam
  • Family
    • Tom & Mad
    • Hayden's Family
    • Brooke's Family
    • Mad's Family
  • Swimming
    • Training Blog
    • Swim Times
    • Awards, Results & Resources
    • Pictures
  • Backpacking
    • Pictures >
      • 2013 Pictures >
        • Gardiner Basin/King Spur
        • Evolution Region
        • Milestone Basin
      • 2012 Pictures >
        • Amphitheater/Palisades
        • Great Western Divide/Mt. Brewer
      • 2011 Pictures >
        • River to Sea Trek >
          • Mojave Desert
          • Sierra/Tehachapi
          • Wind Wolves/Carrizo
          • Los Padres/Morro Bay
        • Sierra Nevada >
          • Harem Trip
          • Tuolumne to Sonora
          • Kaweah Basin
          • Mt. Brewer
  • Surfing
    • Pictures >
      • Slide Show
      • Album
  • 2015: Discovery, Chemo, Radiation
  • 2015: Interim before surgery
  • 2015: Surgery & Aftermath

Doing well, all things considered!!

6/14/2020

4 Comments

 
Journal entry by Tom Landis, photos by Mad​
     Wow, so much is going on in the world that my health issues seem quite mundane. I try to stay upbeat, to live with a positive attitude. Watching the news of the day makes that challenging as it’s hard not to get discouraged by current events. A philosophical base I have tried most of my life to maintain is that “The key to happiness is being content with what you have.” I still feel that way and I am happy most of the time, but… disease and current events make it difficult sometimes. 
     Challenges to contentment abound. From a worldwide perspective the pandemic is horrendous, The same goes for the paroxysm of racial unrest that is sweeping our country. And these have been especially exacerbated by the shocking ineptitude of our national leadership. I would try to say what I think about our president, but the list in my mind of his negative qualities is just too extensive. I believe that all politicians are liars, sometimes for valid reasons, usually not, but our president is in a league all by himself and I simply cannot stand it!!!
     End of diatribe. I turn my head to look out the window and see the most beautiful white headed woodpecker on our suet feeder. Mt. Jefferson is obscured by clouds right now, but just knowing it is there grounds me. Maybe I’ll walk over to the river later this afternoon; the riparian vegetation is so lush. A few months ago everything was brown; now it is a green explosion. Wildflowers are coming out in profusion and should be at their peak in a few weeks. There is so much beauty in life and I am so grateful that I am still around to experience it. This line of thought makes me extremely happy, in spite of the shitstorm of current events.
     Okay. Here’s the gist of what’s going on with me. If that’s all you came here for, my apologies for clogging your mind with philosophical thoughts and rantings.
     Earlier this week we traveled up to Portland; the first time I have been out of Central Oregon since late February. I had a CT scan and meetings with four doctors. Bottom line is that all the doctors are happy because the scan shows very minimal change from the last one in early February. That means that the treatments for both cancer and NTM have stabilized those conditions. They are not going away, nor would I expect them to do so, therefore “stable” is the best scenario I could hope for. Fifteen pills a day fighting the bad bugs in my body are keeping me “healthy” and happy. 
     Friday I went swimming for the first time in three months. It was great to get in the pool and feel myself move through the water, even though I felt a bit stiff from being a terrestrial animal for so long. Getting back to amphibian mode is so nice. I found that my speed has not suffered very much, though my endurance leaves a lot to be desired. But that will take care of itself as I am able to swim consistently. The “new normal” is that I must call in advance to reserve a lane of the pool for a particular time slot, only two times a week. Then I have 45 minutes for my practice but that is usually enough for my aging bod. Walking in the forest and along the river is a good way to maintain a certain level of fitness, but, for me, it does not measure up to a good swim workout.    
     I promised that, for those of you interested in my more mundane thoughts, I would post to my personal web site, tomlandis.com. And I have not done that as yet. Be patient—there is my life long problem of being a lazy slug.
     I love my family, who I hope to see more of when travel becomes less problematic. I love Mad, who is by my side through joy and challenge. I love my friends, who I hope to be able to meet with face to face sometime in the not too far distant future. I wish I could reach out to each of you personally, but I have learned that there are just too many of you who care. 
     And I love the natural world, which keeps me grounded and constantly appreciative for life itself.
     Thanks for listening.
4 Comments

Five Years Ago Today

5/22/2020

3 Comments

 
Journal entry by Tom & Mad

      Today is the fifth anniversary of my nine hour esophagectomy. I just went back and read the blog postings Mad and I wrote in 2015 between then and July 17th, when I finally got out of the hospital. What a ride! When we walked in to the hospital at 5:30 am on that Friday morning, little did we know that we would not be finished with it for eight weeks. In my optimistic as usual mind I figured no longer than ten days and I would be convalescing at home. Thankfully, there is a lot about the tribulations of those two months that I don’t remember. I must admit that going back through the mists of time leaves me a little bit daunted about what I had to go through.     Rereading it, although somewhat uncomfortable, reinforces the gratitude, the joy of life I feel today. Aside from the usual aches and pains of which septuagenarians complain, I feel great.
     And I don’t have any news for you. Last post I mentioned that my April CT scan had been postponed until May due to Coronavirus concerns. Well, now it has been postponed until next month. And so it goes in these uncertain times. So my next scan is set for June 8, with consultations over the next few days, so you know that you may be hearing from me if there is any news after four months.
     Having nature close at hand is my balm for the isolation of the Covid pandemic. Well, to be strictly honest, it always has been a passionate interest, never mind the pandemic. It does make enduring the fact that I must stay close to home a lot easier.
Are any of you birdwatchers? I understand a lot of people have taken it up as an avocation during their forced isolation. It’s amazing how many birds you can identify in your own back yard. I have been at it since my early teens when my mother helped me earn my nature merit badge and birdwatching merit badge, among others, to become an Eagle Scout. It never ceases to be interesting, in spite of the fact that I might see the same birds over and over. We feed birds year round and just now a lot of showy migrants are blowing through, sharing our feeders with the resident woodpeckers, chickadees, juncos, Stellar jays and siskins. We both love the Rufous hummingbirds.
     When I walk over to the river, as I often do, I hope to see a great blue heron, but have not been lucky the last month or so. The last one I saw was back in early March and on that day I also saw a Bald Eagle. The Dipper is a drab but most interesting bird that I usually see on my walks along the river. Not as common is the beautiful Kingfisher, but I got a great look at one yesterday. What else did I see over there? Hmm, let’s see. Mallards, Western Tanager, Black Headed Grosbeak, Yellow Rumped Warbler, McGillvray Warbler, Song Sparrow, Western Kingbird, Grey Flycatcher, Common Yellowthroat, Mountain Bluebird, Dark Eyed Junco, Mountain Chickadee, Mourning Dove. Ahh spring!
     Have I bored you completely with mundane stuff? I worry about clogging up Caring Bridge with inanities. I am gradually getting my web page going at (www.tomlandis.com). There is a lot of old stuff on it, but all the Caring Bridge posts are moved over there and I hope to be posting some of my ongoing but more mundane current thoughts on that blog, with the hope of establishing dialog with some of you on a more consistent basis. 
5:17 am. I was grateful for the .7 mile walk to the tram up to the hospital. I love how Tom is striding bravely towards the great unknown
6:53 am. Emotional! The moment to say goodbye and start waiting for what turned out to be 12 1/2 hours until I would see him again.
6:55 am. The epidural is kicking in, making for a high, happy sendoff.
6:08 pm. Sally and I finally get the update that all went well from Tom's lead surgeon, John Hunter (now CEO of OHSU).
7:53 pm. We finally get to see tom in the ICU with nine different tubes sticking out of him. I thought I had been prepared, but wow! We did not see him conscious until the next morning. It was a long day for all of us in wildly different ways.
3 Comments

Caring Bridge Post

4/14/2020

3 Comments

 
You and Me In the Same Boat. Cherishing Life!
     Yesterday was my 78th birthday. We celebrated with food, dancing and sex. No presents; what do you get for a 78 year old man who has everything? My first experience with Zoom was a birthday gathering with 14 family members sequestered in six different locations. Gratifying and fun; I’m so grateful for family, even if I don’t get to see them in person. 
     As for myself, at this moment, I feel great! Only the normal complaints of an old man accompany the mild and manageable symptoms of my “comorbidities”. I have sequestered myself at home with Mad since March 13th, and, honestly, my life has not changed that much. I feel very fortunate in this respect, compared to the incredible disruption the pandemic has caused in the lives of so many. We were isolated already, with few neighbors, and those staying out of sight. If we want exercise, we can walk out the door into the forest and not see anyone for hours. We avoid the river trails on weekends, but on weekdays there are few people out there to avoid. I miss swimming and sports on TV. I miss being able to go to the market any time I want for ice cream. I’d like to go on a road trip to visit family and friends. I’d like to go on a cruise to see a new part of the world. And on and on… All things considered, though, whatever discontent I may feel inconsequential.
       While Mad was reading an article to me about how doctors are coping with the unbelievably terrifying situation in New York City hospitals, the term “comorbidity” came up. “What’s that” I wondered? It turns out they are underlying conditions in addition to the one being treated. “Wow, do I know comorbiditiies!” 
     If I were to go into the ER with Covid, they will look at my chart and, first, marvel at my comorbidities. They they will shake their heads at the prospect of trying to save someone with cancer, lung disease and heart disease in addition to the virus. In triage, I suspect I will go to the end of the list, in spite of the fact that, outwardly, I seem quite fit.
     For several years now I have had the specter of life threatening health conditions hanging over me. Now we are in the same boat. Not that I would wish the present disease catastrophe upon anyone, certainly not, but I am definitely not as unique anymore.
     Am I worried? Somewhat. Am I afraid? No. I’ve had five years to come to terms with the inevitablity of death and, in my mind, I’ve already been cheating the grim reaper for quite some time. As I’ve told you often before, every new day is a gift for me. I trust that, in the light of the current crisis, many of you are thinking the same thing… in the same boat, so to speak.
     Last week I was supposed to have my latest monitoring CT scan to see what’s happening with cancer and NTM in my lungs. Needless to say it did not happen. Therefore, I have nothing of substance to convey to you all regarding my health struggles except that I feel fine. I’ve been rescheduled to go up to Portland on May 20th. Will that occur? Who knows? So far Oregon has not been hit as hard as other parts of the country, so we are crossing our fingers that things will have calmed down enough by then that I can circulate in society. 
     I have been playing around with the idea of resurrecting my personal web site, [email protected]. I used it to communicate with my hiking and swimming friends, to share workout thoughts and hiking pictures. After I was diagnosed with cancer I stopped posting to that site and have not since. I’m thinking now it might be a good way to blog about “just things” that I don’t want to clog Caring Bridge with, but that I think people might be interested in. It’s still a work in progress; I’ll let you know when things are up and running. Right now I’m moving my Caring Bridge posts over and figuring out how the blog function works so we can communicate back land forth.
     Be well my friends…. and, for the sake of those of us with comorbids, Isolate, Isolate, Isolate!!!
3 Comments

    Tom's Blog

    A place for me to keep you informed about my health challenges and to opine about things that I think might be of interest.
    Resurrecting a blog that I ceased posting to in 2015.

    Archives

    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.