Author: MichaelHeil

Monday, July 11

I must admit that I am not excited about tomorrow’s appointment. Perhaps,it is because:

• Physical fatigue has been the hallmark of my last few weeks and I can only expect more after tomorrow’s treatment.
• My continued weight gain, loss of strength and diminishing conditioning is extremely disheartening.
• Experience predicts ugly emotional swings & a humiliating cognitive fog.

However, I am thrilled as I anticipate:

• Another merciless bombardment of those uninvited cancer cells.
• A long weekend of beach time with two of the Goelz families.
• Two happy visits with Carter.
• The prospect of perhaps only one more treatment.

Friday, July 8:

The succinct title of this post sums up my last few days.

The morning walks, when they happen, are definitely ¾ speeds. My favorite walk this week was the forest hike with Laurie, Katie, Julia and Kousa. Julia happily kept me company as we took up the rear. It was so enjoyable to share in her excitement as she spoke of her rapidly approaching freshman year at the University of Alabama.

Especially slow have been the warm, Willamette Valley summer afternoons. I still wake up excited and energized but by lunchtime I am quite lethargic. It is just hard to motivate – so much so, that I actually turned down two outdoor climbing invitations. It feels like I am dragging around that 20-pound weight once again.

Also, on this note, I did get a little worried Wednesday afternoon. I had committed to grocery shop. As I mounted my bike and pushed out into the sun my thoughts jumped back to that ill-fated previous Monday. Happily all worked out just fine and now that dreadful day is a mere memory.

About the only part of life that has not slowed down is the social life. Although a little taxing, it is FUN! I thoroughly enjoyed the July 3rd picnic on the river with Lynn, the welcoming BBQ for Julia (young cyclists included), the afternoon visit with our New Zealand friends, TJ and Rusty, the visit with cousin Jamie and cherry picking again with Julia. Of course, the spontaneous joys of hanging with my 5 ¼ year old buddy, Hayden, continues to be a social highlight!

For those who have lost track, I continue to plod through my first phase of treatment.  There are only two remaining chemotherapy appointments (7/12 and 8/2).  On August 29th – a Bone and CT scan. These will show how the tumors have reacted to all the phase one treatments (chemotherapy, androgen deprivation, diet, acupuncture etc.).  The next day we meet with our oncologist, Dr. Beers, to make a phase two plan.

In the meantime, I am eternally grateful all your continued support and well wishes. As I said above: Slow but Good – as it well should be!

 Sunday, July 3:

The support I’ve received through comments, emails, texts and calls from my last post has been heartwarming and prodigious. How did I amass such an awesome group of friends?

You will be happy to know that despite my general obstinance I think I’ve leaned something from last Monday’s experience. Further, this knowledge should lead to a behavior change. My take home lesson is: I do need to slow down, shift gears, listen more carefully to the body! I need to embrace my concept of recalibration and move more slowly and deliberately from bolt to bolt. Finally, I am ready to admit that there very well might be an accumulative effect to chemotherapy.

How might this lesson be implemented? I commit to only one workout a day – and it shall be at ¾ intensity. I commit to a longer afternoon lounge chair reading session- perhaps even a spell of watching the garden greens grow. Finally, I commit to a renewed effort to keep things simple and not over extend myself socially.  The New Normal is upon me!

        The stump can wait!

A huge shout out of appreciation to Alan for yesterday’s outing. It truly was awesome hanging out with my primary climbing partner of the last 25 years. We went for a casual outing to Flagstone. We hiked slowly, attempted only a few of the highest quality climbs, lunched in the shade, talked about life and traded stories. The weather was gorgeous: warm sunshine; wispy wind rustling the tops of Douglas fir trees and a panoramic scenery extending for miles. So wonderful to get out of the valley and play in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains!

Wednesday, June 29

Monday, June 27, was my worst day since treatment began! Actually the rocky times began four evenings earlier at the end of Thursday night’s party and continued all the way through Monday evening.

The time was rich with social activity. We celebrated my 60^th and Lynn’s 85^th birthday with small parties at our house. Lana’s weeklong visit was marvelous. We had a fun diner with Captain Steve on Sunday night. I tried to keep up the exercise regime, but all came crashing down on Thursday night as the steroid wore off and the chemo drugs took full effect. Each of the following four days got progressively worse – extreme physical fatigue,  wrecked emotionally and significant cognitive impairment.  Like I’ve said before, those little drugs sure do pack a mighty punch!

I am almost embarrassed to relate Monday’s story. It is clearly the nadir  and may seem wretched and pathetic. Perhaps an overview:

After two struggling days, Laurie and I awake early to see Carter. We arrive home early afternoon and as Laurie shuttles off to her own doctor’s appointment, I attempt to grocery shop. I try to make a list but am baffled by my inability to comprehend the recipe on Laurie’s computer screen. I puzzle for minutes and give up. I fumble around for bags, wallet, sunglasses etc., get the bike and set off. I am amazed at how slow I ride. The air seems as thick as oil as I struggle to inch forward. It is hot in the blinding sun. I finally arrive and stumble into the store. It takes all I got to figure out types and quantities of meat to purchase (I would love to replay the conversation I had with the meat counter guy). I continue. I get confused and overwhelmed in the spice aisle and feel tears welling up. Are you kidding me? I am delighted to recognize the familiar label on the red wine vinegar. Yes! I move to the produce section and am overjoyed when I recall Laurie telling me she likes the yams from the leftmost box. The rest of the produce experience turns into a disaster. I randomly throw in bunches of broccoli, swiss chard, cauliflower, lettuce, carrots and whatever else seems familiar. How I made it through the checkout line is unclear – a blur. I lug my panniers outside, attach them and realize that my water bottle cage had fallen off. A truly random event, yet disturbing! I pick it off the ground and shove it into a pack. I painstakingly trudge home – any slower and I would be biking backwards! Upon opening the refrigerator, I realize I need to make room. I am overwhelmed as I sit on the floor for minutes simply shuffling items around feeling the cool air escape. I’ve accomplished nothing so I quit. I stand and begin to transfer the rice into a new glass container. As it fills, Laurie bounds in the back door asking:  “How did it go?” I say, “Terrible!” and immediately break down in tears. I cry uncontrollably. I tremble. I fumble. I am completely and utterly exhausted – mentally, physically and emotionally! I am Wrecked! Wasted! Useless!

I am not sure how much time past, but I awake in bed upstairs, with a tear soaked pillow. Laurie enters, lies by my side and just holds me for a long time. Her presence brings me back from an edge. We finally talk a little. We get up; we eat a little and just sit. I feel my being slowly filling up again. Somehow, I trust that I’ve hit bottom and things are about to improve. I think I had experienced the “darkest before the dawn”.

Where this journey is taking me has been and continues to be quite astounding and incredible. I wonder what is next?

Friday,  June 24

The rounds of this prize fight continue to drag on and it is turning into a slug fest – reminds me of the 1973 Ali vs. Frazier fight in MSG when I was a kid! I’ve taken some body blows and the legs are weary but I think the cancer cells are far worse for the ware.

I continue to believe that my true advantage in this battle comes from my fans. They build me up, make me strong and fire me up! I was flooded again yesterday with well wishes for my 60^th birthday – phone calls, texts, emails, cards – all kinds of creative, fun videos, songs and artwork. Clever, amusing and entertaining. Sincere, tender and heartfelt. Wonderful, awesome, fabulous!

Yesterday, for the birthday, I indulged and broke from our strict diet. We prepared together and feasted relentlessly on homemade authentic Italian food, excellent wine and my favorite desert. We even tried to party late into the evening. No ill effects to be had and feel all the better for it! The psych is up, so may the fight continue.

  

La bella vita………….

Wednesday, June 22

Upon returning from a long day in Portland with Laurie and Lana yesterday, I feel like THE Prize Fighter in a highly publicized 15 round heavy weight bout. It is Round 3 and I am feeling great. I dance and weave around my opponent – cancer cells and chemotherapy drug side effects!

Dr. Beer, the leader of my western medical team and Carter Blue, the leader of my eastern medical team, escorted me into the ring yesterday. Also in my corner were my coaches and staunch supporters, Laurie and Lana (Susan’s substitute). Immediately behind them were my closest fans that have flooded me with well wishes and supportive emails, texts and blog comments over the last 24 hours.

The pre-battle prediction was that I would be cruising through Round 3 (now) but by round 10 (in about 30 hours), I would be dealt some devastating blows, desperately hanging onto the ropes and reeling from fatigue. Early results are in and I am crushing it.  PSA levels are now down to 2.43 (another 28% drop) and blood test results indicate that the liver is holding strong.

I love my team!  With their enduring support I fully expect to make it though the later rounds and exit victorious by Round 15.  Hang in there with me and enjoy the show!

More to come…………………….

Monday 6/20

I have mixed feelings about tomorrow’s chemotherapy treatment #4. Perhaps more on that later, but now I’d like to share 4 wonderful things about this past weekend:

– Alan, my #1 climbing bud, finished another year of university teaching and is now free. Laurie and I were his and Jane’s dinner guests, christening their gorgeous new kitchen table. We had a fabulous evening of reconnection as well as a scrumptious BBQ Salmon dinner with our dearest, generous friends – Alan, Jane, Claire and Hannah!

– All weekend my thoughts continually drifted to my great anticipation of Lana’s visit. Laurie and I are so excited to include her up close and personal in our journey.

– LAURIE continues to be the best thing that has ever happened in my life. Her continued support and dedication to our cause is Awesome! I love how solid we are!

– Five climbing friends arrived at my house yesterday morning to usher me off to my first day of outdoor climbing since the diagnosis. The weather was superb, the climbing excellent and the company even better. I loved it – Thank you my friends!

 

Until post chemo………….

Friday 6/17:

I was looking into the mirror and realizing that it was my hand guiding the razor over my jaw.  This intensely strange experience brought me back to another lifetime. It had been almost forty years since I fully shaved my beard!

I left the mirror and entered the shower. I lamented losing my beard. It was mine. I had lived with it forever. It had been a part and parcel of me. I was shaving it away not because I wanted a new look, but because the androgen deprivation drug was transforming it into thin, ugly, isolated, straggly wisps of hair. Losing the beard is only one of the nagging side effects of this tremendously powerful drug – the drug which wrecks havoc on my body.  My body is changing more rapidly than a thirteen-year boy entering puberty – but in the exact opposite direction.  It is so strange, unnatural and exceedingly difficult to comprehend.  Was I getting depressed?

Instantly, I realized the defunct beard was indeed no more than a mere side effect.  The drug I was taking for the past two months is directly responsible for lowering my PSA by over 95%.  It is starving cancer cells, shirking tumors and literally giving me a new lease on life. I flash back to the desperate night of April 14 when I learned I had metastatic prostate cancer and I did not know where to turn or what to do. I was lost then, but now I have a working plan of which this drug is an integral part!  This drug was doing exactly what it was supposed to do – setting me up to be a long-term cancer survivor!

Still in the shower under the spill of luxurious hot water, my thoughts turned to all those doctors, scientists, researchers, post-docs, grad students, lab assistants, drug company employees, FDA workers and philanthropists (big and small) who have been tirelessly dedicated to the eradication of cancer.  Simple old me was now a hugely thankful recipient of their years and years of effort.

I felt bigger than life…………immensely grateful………..and ever so happy.  I felt as though I had just awakened from a dream.  I wanted to run down the stairs and give Laurie a gigantic kiss and say:” People Care. They are making my life a Grand experience!”

This is my dedication to all those hard working folks, my allies, engaged in fighting my cancer.  YOU ROCK!

  Monday 6/13:

I pick up right where I left off at the last post – Feel’n Good!

It was a very fine long weekend here in Eugene – a weekend filled with delightful family social events.  The overall big one was Orion’s graduation.

Orion’s brother, Eric, flew up from San Diego to celebrate and he stayed at our house. It had been a while since Eric and I hung out, so it was great for us catch up on each others’ lives. We cycled to Voodoo donuts, walked the golf course and dined together with his desert at Prince Pucklers.  After a Sunday breakfast out with the boys, Eric was gracious enough to offer his superior mechanical talents in helping me install our new air conditioner – not a trivial task.  Thank you Eric!

   

The big event was at Steve’s place on Saturday night as he hosted the celebration BBQ.  Rich was finally home and ready to celebrate, Lynn telling her party jokes, Orion old enough to be served legally, Joey looking fine in his party attire and the rest of the family very happy to be together.  Super fun event – Congratulations Orion!

It is absolutely wonderful to feel great physically.  I’m not working out super hard, but have been engaged in tasks around the house and expending lots of social energy.  I am easily able to maintain the energy level and have fun!  Life seems pretty easy.  I feel like those cancer cells are being mercilessly assaulted and on the run.  My vision is that cancer cells are dying at a phenomenal rate, tumors are shrinking and the stem cells are being threatened.  I feel like the good guys are winning!

I elect to go with this narrative for now and am very much enjoying the script.  After all, I do continue to feel great.  So until the next dip, I’ll be riding high in the saddle and loving it the whole way through.

TTFN my friends!

Thursday 6/9:

 I certainly do not want to risk hubris, tempt fate, rock the boat, offend Murphy (as in Murphy’s Law) or be cocky, but I am convinced that we are finally through the hardest part of chemo 3. The bump is smoothing out!

I say so, because despite a full Wednesday (continued yard work, schlepping an air conditioner, kitchen faucet repair job, a math tutoring session and a late night poker game) the fatigue and fog seem to have lifted. I got up this morning feeling great and ready to jump back on that yard project. Perhaps the breaking of the four day heat wave (high 90’s) or a slight relaxation of cardio workouts are the real reasons. Ah, heck who cares, there is so much going in and around this body I don’t really care about cause and effect. I only care about feeling strong and whether those cancer cells are continually being pounded and starved!

Over this last bumpy week, the support I have felt from family and friends has been like a surge of power. I believe it can move mountains! Wonderful events have unfolded and I have experienced some powerful emotions. Letters, cards and notes continue to flood in.  Some illustrations:

“……..but the fact you were so wiped out means the chemo is doing what it’s supposed to….. giving it to those unwelcome visitor cells with both barrels.  As you know, they are more sensitive than the rest of you because they divide so quickly, so if your good healthy cells are feeling crappy, you can imagine what a beating the cancer cells are taking.  Still, I’m really glad you are almost done with this treatment course.”

“You know me and my faith, so I will just tell you that you are in not only our family prayers, but in the prayers of 1,000’s in our church and bible study. …………., I can tell you that you are one of few people I know that can beat this disease solely based on your approach to living life fully. Though we took different paths in our life we do share one important thing – family! ”

“I particularly appreciate your renewed lust for Life……..….Of course I wish from the bottom of my heart you weren’t going through this, yet I hear in your words how much more you’re expanding every moment to allow the beauty, gravity and joy of each as it comes.
After reading a small article about the Kepler telescope…………………I got the most gleeful feeling of being so absolutely lucky to be a part of this creative mess we call Life and whatever creative, as well as destructive, force that makes all this possible. It’s really quite stunning. From your posts, I get you know that better than most.”

“It was so wonderful to see you Mike and to be in the presence of your bright positive spirit.  I thoroughly enjoyed our whole visit, mostly the conversations, and sharing…………the walk through the magical green woods that is so Eugene. I love seeing you relax in your red chair. I also appreciate your realness with expressing all of the emotions you are experiencing and your reflections…………I’m holding you in my thoughts everyday.”

Special shout outs to Joey and Steve. Both these guys have been super reliable when asking for help or a favor – no hesitation what so ever to stop by and lend a hand. Thank You – you remind me of the value of family when times become challenging!

Laurie got a break from the Portland doctor trek this week as Joey volunteered to drive me. We made a fun day of it together. At OHSU, I found Joey joking with the nurses, one of which seemed a little concerned with exactly who should get the androgen deprivation drug injection. Him, playing with the wheel chairs in the parking lot was quite amusing. The unabashed parading of his pride and joy, Bo, through the lobby of the hospital was quite the sight – many heads turned, attracting gobs of attention and receiving pet after pet. We had a classic ‘city lunch date’ and then paraded through interesting neighborhoods and retail therapy outlets. The man has not lost his charisma and touch, or his driving prowess. I was reminded of many fond cruising together memories. Way cool!

Looking forward to a fun, relaxing weekend in Eugene. Nephew Eric visiting, Orion done with school, Rich back in town and chemo 3 behind me. Just cruising! Soon thereafter Lana comes and then my birthday.

Life is Good! 😉

 

Saturday 6/4:

I am continually amazed at how happy I am when I open my eyes each morning and then think about the coming day.  It is, indeed, my favorite time of day.  Imagine thinking this as a teenager – how things change!

This chemotherapy stuff sure is fickle.  The first 42 hours after Tuesday’s treatment was a gigantic pleasant surprise. I was feel’n just dandy and fine!  Then wham, bam, slam, bang, bumpty, bumpty, bump – I am hammered with the most intense overall body fatigue I think I had ever experienced.  No pain, a minor stomach issue, a touch of cognitive fog, but talk about totally “wiped out”!  I mean – Totally!  I think I slept eleven solid hours Thursday night and still an ever so slow Friday – an additional ten hours last night.  Remember that dragging weight or rubbing brakes – it has returned with the fullest force!

Perhaps I’ll bail on the prose and offer you images with Unitah’s rhymes:

Roses are awful, violets are bad,
  Daises are stupid, cheesy, and sad.
The tulips are wilting, the pansies are dead,
  This is a day to stay in bed.
I Get it

When you’re unhappy, remember this rhyme:
  We all feel crappy from time to time.
Don’t worry it will pass eventually.

Heard you’re feeling rather low, sometimes that’s the way things go.
Run yourself a nice hot bath, and stay away form Sylvia Plath.
A friend.

Wednesday 6/1:

Yesterday I received my third chemotherapy treatment, followed by a great overnight visit with Linda and Chris at their home. Today, Carter’s acupuncture treatment was delicious. I feel slow, good and quite relaxed!

It has now been 7 weeks since my actual diagnosis – one that has turned my life upside down! In this post, I will try to articulate important points that I’ve learned or relearned as my journey progresses. If any of my expert readers find an error, please help by informing me, as it may aid with a more accurate outlook.

What I think I know:

1.) My metastatic prostate cancer IS a very serious illness, for which medicine does NOT have a cure. Despite its early detection, only 2% of all prostate cancers initially present themselves in the liver.

2.) This cancer developed in my body simply because of bad luck. It is unique to me. There are standards of care, but what might seem to work for others, might not for me. Treatment will require an individualized approach.

3.) My doctors are very hesitant with my prognosis. The more I learn about this, the more I respect their position. One reason might be that, since research is progressing so rapidly, there is no long-term patient data on results new treatments.

4.) The big reason why there is no cure for metastatic prostate cancer is that the tumor cells so effectively mutant thus avoiding treatments. Science has not solved this problem yet. There seems to be hope with recent advances in immunotherapy. Also targeted genetic therapies have promise but presently they are only mono therapies. To me this means, I will live with this cancer for the rest of my life. I will be, however, in a waiting game (comfortable and secure I trust) as science progresses.

5.) My Prostrate-Specific Antigen (PSA) readings are the key indicator of how my cancer is reacting to the current treatment (18-week regiment of hormone therapy and chemotherapy).  To this point, my PSA readings have dropped significantly (see below) – an 89% decrease followed by another 57% decrease. WOW!

6.) Based on this very important PSA data, my doctors have 2 major recommendations:

• Stay the course in all respects.   To me, this means continue: the exact same androgen suppression drug, the same chemotherapy drugs, diet changes, acupuncture, craniosacral therapy, exercise, rest, research, positive, honest outlook and support systems, all with Laurie at my side. As my brother Rich would say: “Why change a winning game?”
• Image the metastatic tumors at end of the treatment regiment (mid-August)

7.) I am able to tolerate side effects of these harsh drugs very well. Moreover, I able to maintain an exercise rich, extroverted, joyful lifestyle that has been mine for almost 60 years.  Talk about thankful and grateful!  Consider Dr. Chris’ comment this morning: ” Mike, from these blood test results, I cannot believe you are on chemotherapy!”

 

Date	4/15/16	5/10/16	5/31/16
PSA TOTAL MONITORING	70.72	7.76	3.37

Sunday 5/29

What a completely awesome ride today!  I am so delighted that my body held and I was able to do the climb…………..It was hard and I am tired; but it was extremely satisfying and very fun!

I started solo in early morning, cruising through huge stands of conifers pierced with rays of sunshine. I climbed slowly in the silent, cool morning air.  Laurie was waiting with breakfast half way up the hill. We ate, pushed through the gate and continued up together. She crushed it as I tried to keep pace. Breaking out into full sun, surrounded by black lava rock and spectacular views was stellar. I still lagged but did not care – it was great to see Laurie pound up that hill, as I tried to keep her in sight.  I was so happy that we were doing this together!

We summitted, lunched and I napped.  I marveled at how Laurie said, “that climb was easy today.” I thought, “Really?” Down we plunged. Forty-five miles and 3500’ elevation – cancer cells be damned – all in a day’s play!

In the old days, my pride would never have permitted me to lag Laurie up the hill or allow other cyclists to pass me as if I were standing still.  Similarly, using walking as morning cardio workout OR considering cycling to do errands as a full on workout was not a part of my psyche. I now have a new word for this: Recalibration.

I always thought that youth was reserved for the young and wisdom for all others. I believe I have arrived at new place – a place of recalibration. I continue do all I can with gusto and full abandon, but I now do it with acceptance and try to do it gracefully. I feel so good about this -truly happy and content!

I think I have been coming to this realization for a while – but today is the day I fully articulate it.  Perhaps, it can be said: I learned something today.

Life continues to be grand!  Climb on, my friends!

Saturday 5/28

I assure you, the title of this post is literal not metaphorical.

Almost thirty-five years ago to the day, I was one of four cycling friends who set out with fully loaded touring bikes from Paradise campground on the McKenzie River.  We climbed the old McKenzie Highway, cresting the Cascade Mountains.  It was my first time making this climb. I was 25 years old and cancer free (I think).

Since then I have ridden this road many, many times. In the early summer of 2004, Laurie and I cycled it twice. Once with brother Tom accompanying him across Oregon on his Trans Continental ride. The other time, two weeks prior, to make sure Laurie was in adequate cycling shape to ride across Oregon with Tom.

Almost every year since, Laurie and I have done this climb. Usually we wait for ODOT to plow this mountain road of its winter snow. It is then open to bikes but not vehicles. Some years the road is wide open with no snow in the flowering meadows; while other years we ride the narrow single track of pavement bounded by towering walls of winter snow.

Even more daring are the years when we launch before ODOT has plowed. That scenario is as follows: Van camp the night before and munch breakfast the morning of at the locked gate. Unload the bikes, strap on the skis, push around the gate and ride naked pavement as far up the hill as possible. We then park the bikes and ski to the summit. At the summit we arrive to a very cool CCC-era built stone structure, known as Dee Wright Observatory.  By then we have broken out into the late springtime sunshine.  We enjoy snow play, lunch, lounging and a luxurious nap. The views are spectacular, the air delightfully warm, the sky the deepest blue, the conifers the most striking green and the solitude felicitous. We are happy together in this gorgeous natural setting!

Tonight Laurie and I drive up to camp with the intention of topping out on this ever so familiar summit by noon tomorrow. It will be my first climb of this magnitude since being diagnosed. I wonder how the cancer cells will like this trial.  Heck, they are already being mercilessly assaulted with hormone therapy and chemotherapy. Moreover, they are being starved of their sustenance – sugar.  I am fully confident that I will feel GREAT as I crest the summit, breath deeply the pristine air and absorb that noble landscape with its imposing views.  I bet that those cancer cells will be crying out to flee my body as fast as they can.  They’ll realize that their invasion was ill advised – an extremely bad idea – a very poor choice.  I hear them screeching, “I want out, NOW!”

So then, until tomorrow night when we arrive home, I leave you in waiting for my report. For now, back to preparations for tomorrow’s assault…………..You all will be the first know how this climb goes, as my intention is to post again sooner than later.  TTFN

PS:  If those pesky cancer cells are able to overcome this ravishment, my friends at OHSU will be bombarding again on Tuesday afternoon with the third chemotherapy treatment.  Take that suckers!

 Monday 5/23

Your response to this blog has been quite positive. That response, coupled with the relaxing, therapeutic effect I feel from writing, impel me to offer another happy post!

The satisfying rhythm and flow of home life continues.  Awaking in the morning still brings me joy and anticipation.  The exercise -stout morning walks with Laurie or a ride over the hill – is exhilarating and fun.  A slight modification to my Whole 30 diet resulted in a huge improvement – significantly more energy, vastly improved digestion and no stomachaches. I am so grateful for the stress free, relaxing afternoons, simply hanging out with Laurie.  Hard to image I am so gravely ill, as I Ride the Wave.

Often I marvel at how quickly the hours pass and the days seem to simply evaporate. Perhaps this is so, because we have been happily flooded with visitors over the last few days – it has been quite the social scene.

Reconnecting with Laura was fabulous!  She arrived at our doorstep, with my favorite flowers in hand (those in bloom) on Thursday afternoon. A stellar visit!  I sure appreciated Rob organizing his, fun-filled home poker game.  I love the dynamic that plays out over cards, chips, food and friends!  The arrival of Erick, my long time climbing mate, on Friday for lunch, a long hike, longer nostalgic conversation, dinner and the party like, music drenched, happy nighttime festivity was totally awesome.  It was so good to reconnect with this old-time, kick back, mellow friend visiting from Australia.  I experienced the warmest, strongest sense of community on Saturday morning when I attended my first ever Bat Mitzvah – Thank you Tali, Penny, Jared and Luis!  The weather forced us inside, but no way could I have complained about indoor climbing with Erick and Alan that afternoon.  The weekend just improved as Chris, recently back from Europe, drove all the way from Seattle to spend the day, evening and night with Laurie and me.  Chris (and his entire family) has always been extremely special to me over our 40-year friendship.  How wonderful it was for me to hang, hike, talk, eat, play, reminisce and talk some more with my bud, Chris!  I am so happy that he is willfully accompanying me on this newest journey – after all we’ve done so many journeys together over the years.

As you can see I have been blessed over the last few days with an absolute wonderful set of visitors and friends; each willing to hang out and share with me.  It has been a most happy time, as I am convinced that the journey with friends is a journey well conceived!

I end this post, just having returned from a yet another delicious acupuncture treatment from Carter. I feel so relaxed and satiated.  I suspect the rest of the day will unfold quite pleasantly and I will continue to Ride the Wave.  !La Pura Vida a Todos!

PS: I received permission this week from niece, Julia, to publish her hand written letter that has become so special to me.  I share it, so you too can feel the love and support I am receiving from family afar.
…………(click here)