12/29/2010

Until further notice this blog will no longer focus on the news.

When I was in Las Vegas on December 3^rd I noticed a lump on my left testicle.  At the time I paid it little mind and figured, like most ailments, it would come and go.  After an uncomfortable flight home and allowing it to ache for another two days I decided it was time to see my family doctor.

The doctor said he could not feel a “definitive mass” and that it was most likely some sort of epididymal cyst—something ephemeral and benign.  But to be prudent, he instructed me to have an ultra-sound.

The next day, now Friday December 10^th, I quietly asked my boss if I could leave work early to go in for my procedure.  Left clothed by only the shirt on back, I lay prostrate on the examination table when the technician began her inspection.  Not looking too, shall I say, virile, I joked about how cold it was in the room.  The technician offered only a lackluster smile, exaggerated blink, and a quick exhale.  A trite joke I assumed.

Around eleven in morning the following Monday I received some good news—I had passed the second part of my CPA exam.  Around eleven-thirty, I received some bad news—my doctor told me, cryptically and in a matter-of-fact tone, I needed to see a urologist.

My mind filled and my heart beat with consternation.  To add to the anxiety, the urologist couldn’t see me until the following Wednesday, December 22^nd.  So I waited, apprehension and incredulousness abound.  At this point I had not told my parents any of this.  Fearing the worst but expecting the best, I figured there was no need to add to their holiday stress.  I bit my tongue during the many times I saw them throughout the waiting period.  Conversations about work, sports, and the weather never seemed so insipid.  In my head I rehearsed time and time again how I would break the news to my parents if the urologist used a certain word during our meeting.

“I’m not going to lie to you, it could be cancer.”

This is a horrible thing to hear when a doctor has your left ball in his hands.

The other twenty minutes of the meeting remain somewhat of a blur.  The moments of lucidity that cut through the miasma of disbelief left me with the following tid-bits: there is a good chance the lump is cancer, I need further tests, and the left testicle needs to be removed.  It was time to tell my parents.  But before I drove home, I went to my apartment and sat for a while in a silent repose.

My sister had arrived late the prior evening.  My grandma was staying with us through the holiday.  “Hey honey!” my mom said as I walked in through the garage door that leads into our kitchen, her feet pointed toward the stove but her body turned.  A plate of steaming rice and beans and a chicken cutlet waited in her hand, ready to be served.  A few moments of small talk ensued and I exchanged hello kisses and how-are-you’s with my sister.  Everything was so normal, so perfect.  I couldn’t figure out how to tell them.  Already in the house for over five minutes, I still had the manila folder in my hand— inside was doctor’s prescription for blood work and an MRI and a copy of the ultra-sound report saying I have a 1.5cm mass that is “worrisome for carcinoma.”

My dad was in our family room fiddling with a new laptop he had gotten from work.  I asked him to come with me into the bedroom, as if to show him a present I didn’t want someone to see.  I laid out for him what I just explained.  His reaction was measured and he took the news in stride.  His eyes reflected my disbelief and emitted a sense that the road ahead would be long and that we’d be on it for a while.

We took a moment to decide if we should share this news with my mom, my sister, and my grandma.  I was tired of keeping this secret and we both felt that telling them was the right thing to do.  My dad called my mom into the room and shut the door behind her as I had closed it behind him.  Her smirk faded and worry consumed her face as I laid out the story for the second time.  But other than a quick muffled succession of “fucks,” my mom took the news better than I expected, and I’m grateful for that.  Few things are worse than seeing your parents cry.

Then the party moved back to the family room.  My dad wanted to tell his mother because, as he put it, “You know she has a direct line to the man upstairs.” As the three of us strolled into the family room my sister asked inquisitively, “What’s going on back there?”  A third story, though this time somewhat abridged.

Sharing this with them was cathartic and a new dynamic entered our family.  We carried on with Christmas Eve and Christmas day as normally as possible.  But whenever conversation strayed too far or routine became too familiar, the gravity of our situation brought up talk about cancer.  Over the next few days we all educated ourselves about the signs, symptoms, and treatments for what I have.  I’m not sure what doctors I’ll be using or what credentials they’ll hold, but hopefully they’re half as good as the team I already have.

I have another doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, and may have surgery as early as next week.  Until then.

12/23/2010

You and me forever.

12/16/2010

Virginia federal district court judge Henry Hudson issued an opinion Monday claiming the Minimum Essential Coverage Provision, or the Obama health care plan mandate to buy insurance, is unconstitutional.  Citing the commerce clause, Judge Hudson writes that the clause has never been used “to compel an individual to involuntarily enter the stream of commerce by purchasing a commodity in the private market.”

This is the first of a succession of judicial opinions to be released before this issue makes its way to the Supreme Court.   The nine high court judges will have the task of determining the fate of countless Americans and potentially setting back our health care system another generation.

As with most political issues these days I remain incredulous.   I’m astounded by republican’s determination to repeal a law that does such good.  I understand that ideologically this may ever-so-slightly impede on their sacrosanct “liberties,” but what about the millions of people who, for the first time, will have access to health care?  For my lifetime and lifetimes before me, presidents fruitlessly tried to construct a sustainable health care system.  Legislators finally created a plan, granted an imperfect plan, to battle one of our country’s greatest problems and the right is hell-bent on peeling back a generation of hard work.  Stripping the law of the mandate destroys the framework that makes the plan viable.  Stripping the law of the mandate destroys the lives of millions of people.

12/14/2010

1.  David Brooks has a thoughtful op-ed in today’s NYT.  As a rising middle class emerges in other super-power nations, the idea of American exceptionalism needs redefining.  In the end it won’t be our military or money that separates us, but rather the values we live by. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/14/opinion/14brooks.html?_r=1&ref=opinion

 

12/10/2010

So I’m back.  My apologies to the eight people/hits I received while I was gone for this ten-day hiatus.

First, I suppose I should start with a quick opinion of Las Vegas.  I have two versions of my critique:  the 25-year-old critique and my more true, “old man” critique, as I am occasionally referred to.

So here goes (25-year-old laconic critique): Anywhere I can bet on the next contestant voted off of Survivor, eat a fried Cornish game hen, and be solicited a live lesbian sex show from a nine fingered Filipino man—all before lunch—is my kind of place.

My “old man” critique: Las Vegas is exactly what I expected: the glit, the glam, the pomp and circumstance.  The succession of hotels and casinos are a testament to American ingenuity and enterprise, and they offer all visitors an outlet to indulge their most impish behaviors.

From my hotel room window I saw a scaled down Eifel Tower, across the street stood a replica of the New York City skyline, and adjacent to that were the hallowed columns of a palace reckoned to be Caesar’s.  I was surrounded by lesser versions of the real thing, reminded constantly of places I’d rather be.  Las Vegas is the ideal city to waste time with friends and is a destination for the itinerant.  But on my first trip to Vegas I was not surprised to find that the city of sin has no soul.

Long story short:  Vegas is pretty sweet.  But it was sweet because I got a free hotel and a free flight from work.

Anyway, more pressing matters.

There are three topics tonight I want to touch on:  Wikileaks, taxes, and DADT.

1)  The uproar over the Wikileaks is absurd.  Julian Assange and his team of hackers have never revealed one shred of information that the public didn’t know or suspect.  Assange argued eloquently in the The Australian that his leaks have never put a single life in danger and serve solely to report the abuses of super-governments.  Basically, he’s the fly on the wall with a mouth–do something egregious and he’s going to report it.   This logic is hard to argue.  He aims not to disclose the names of agents and locations of missiles (in other words, information that may legitimately put people’s lives in danger), but to unearth the truth when a government tries to cover up the murder of innocents or commissions its delegates to commit espionage.

2) Listen, I love Obama.  I donated money from every paycheck for months when he campaigned in 2008.  I buy into his hope and change message like right-wing nut-jobs buy gold.  With 99.9% confidence I can say I’ll vote for him in 2012 and that he’ll be the best candidate.  But for the good Lord’s sake is he wrong on this tax issue.  There is not much I can add (as if there ever is) so I’ll simply restate that this issue is making him look like the biggest pansy on earth and it is a complete capitulation to the right.  The hypocrisy is mind-blowing and the diffidence is crushing.  He based a lion’s share of his campaign on the foolishness of the Bush-era tax cuts for rich and he totally abandoned it and, as a result, the base that voted him into office.  His argument is that he won’t let hardworking middle-class families be the collateral damage of a political fight (as all tax rates, even for the the lower 95%, would rise on January 1).  But, frankly, that’s bullshit.  His plan further balloons the national debt by bringing in less revenue (the lost $700 billion in revenue by acquiescing to republican demands for maintaining the tax cuts for the rich) and by extending unemployment benefits for 13 months (way too tired to look up how much this will cost).  It is ludicrous to think that a huge deficit and the accompanying weak dollar, high inflation, and weak world standing doesn’t affect the average American.  Someone please remind Obama that he is a Democrat, Democrats hold a majority in the Senate, and that Republicans hold a relatively minor majority in the House.  Please?  Bend the arc of the moral universe to the left, Obama.  You’re the President, only you can.

3)  The fact that I am wasting even a scintilla of effort addressing this is nonsensical.  No one needs a commissioned study to determine if gays should be allowed to serve openly in the military.  Not only does a guy willing to spend a year fighting in the most godforsaken place on earth make for a great drinking buddy, but he makes for a fine soldier–regardless if he likes to empty a cock as much as he does a clip.  Any senator who votes against the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is not only going to go down in the history books as the biggest ass wipe ever, but they’re going to go down as a homo too.  Because that’s obviously what they are.  If Obama wants to redeem himself from the tax issue he’d sign an executive order to repeal this.  Man up, Obama.  (No pun intended.)

12/1/2010

I’m off to Las Vegas today.

Here’s to peeling back some bullets and rolling bones.  And hopefully not ending up on that HBO Bunny Ranch show…

Also, I will try to limit my news intake this week because, well, I’m tired of it.  So here’s to a deficit reduction plan, a repeal of DADT, and a vote to raise taxes on the rich while I’m gone.