Music is different now

My buddy creates music. Contributing some of the lyrics to a couple of his songs has been an interesting, enjoyable experience.   This post is not about those songs. This post is about what I learned about how the music industry works. 

Let’s start with the reality of the music world nowadays.  Most music is no longer purchased.  Music is now mostly streamed. Artists get paid by the number of streams a song gets, not so much by the number of units sold. 

Linda has our old Apple iPod currently set up in the dining room.  FYI: IPads were discontinued like ten years ago. On that iPad is music she purchased between fifteen and twenty years ago.   Linda owns that music and owning that music means a lot to her. It gives her joy to listen to her music.  

In our basement are two plastic bins full of a couple hundred music CDs (Compact Disc).  I purchased most of those CDs.  Classic rock from back in the day.  Although some of the CDs are more of the singer songwriter music that Linda is into.  I have not played those CDs for a couple of years.  I have a CD player on a shelf in the basement but it is not hooked up to a sound system any longer. 

We, Linda and I, often go to art fairs and community festivals.  Part of our CD collection includes CDs bought from groups playing at these events.  Our motto has been if you enjoy art you need to purchase some art to support the artists.   

All but gone are the days of buying music. Like most people, nowadays, we stream most of the music we listen to.  On our phones, iPads, smart speakers, television, car entertainment center, and our Mac Computer we can listen to virtually any song at any time.  We no longer buy music as such, nowadays we just ask our devices to play whatever music we want played.     

Streaming music is inherently different than owning music.  Yes, either way you can listen to the music. Either way the music is good. However, when streaming music, there is no sense of owning the music. With records, tapes, CD’s there is a sense that you own the music.  With streaming you can still love music and play it over and over again. But you don’t own the music, you can’t collect the music, it’s different.  . 

Looking it up, about a third of music listening is done with audio streaming services like Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Music, etc.  Another third is done with video streaming like YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, etc.  About 15 percent is on radio, including both broadcast and internet. Less than 10 percent of music purchased on albums, CDs, etc. 

From the artist’s point of view, streaming music changes the game.  You no longer need a record deal to put out music. Music can be created in your bedroom and for a small cost the songs can be distributed to all of the music streaming services without having managers, producers etc.  

FYI: Artists can’t just put music directly on a streaming service.  The streaming services all require artists to go through a distribution company and that company puts the music on the streaming services.  

TuneCore is the biggest music distributor but there are several other options. Distribution companies charge less than a hundred dollars a year to put an artist’s music on all of the streaming services. A couple distributors are free up front but they take a cut of any royalties and offer fewer services. 

Distributors make sure the music meets the standards, and check the music doesn’t break copyrights and decency standards.  Obscenity is allowed but the music needs to be labeled as containing obscenities.  There is more to it but you get the idea. 

There are some downsides to streaming music. Unless they have many hundreds of millions of listens, musicians don’t make lots of money from streaming their music.  On Spotify, If an artist gets 500,000 streams, they will earn about $2,000.  When you hear an artist has a million streams, it does not mean they are rich. 

On Spotify alone, Taylor Swift has thirteen songs each with over a billion streams.  She probably has similar numbers of streams on the other streaming services.  A billion is a thousand millions. There are currently only 826 artists who have gotten a billion streams on Spotify. 

The big music streaming services are Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Music, YouTube Music and the list is long.  Prices vary but they are generally between $10 and $18 per month. I checked out Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Music and they each have over 100 million songs available to stream and they add thousands more each month.  Pretty much no matter what your taste in music is, that music is available on the music streaming services. 

With that many options available to the listeners, it is very hard for any one artist to get enough streams to get rich.  The artists with the most listens are good musicians for sure, however they are also very good at social media. It is not enough to get one person to listen to a song once.  To really make a go at it, they need millions of people to listen to their music many, many times.   

So that is the current state of the music industry. Music listening is way up. With the popularity of earbuds and headphones, and the ability to stream from your phone, workers all over the world now listen to music while they work.  On average people now listen to music over 20 hours a week.  

So just in case you were wondering about the music Duane creates on which I contributed some of the lyrics, here is a list including the YouTube link to the songs that got published.  

Old cars, dogs and babies  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5F5nDWTryKo

The Desert Wins https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKvQ2WK0sRc

You’re in my heart https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAX3T0dkWyk

Alone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAU9uj3GmjE

Old West Town  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YySev79odJg

More to love than love  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIb5PqAK1us

Dollar Store  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwmDbAPdm-o

More to come. 

Well and good – update

As I write this, it is close to six months since my third colon cancer removal surgery on July 16, 2024.  The surgery was a success. All but 15 inches of my colon was removed.  A colon is generally about five feet long. 

Let’s start this post with the conclusion.  I’m feeling good. My doctors say I’m doing well. My lab results say I’m doing good. I smile more often and more easily than I have for a long time.  Ten thousand step days are routine and I feel good doing them. I’m able to write coherent sentences again. I’m happy. 

Last week I had a sigmoidoscopy, which is like a mini colonoscopy.   My colon is short. A colonoscopy is too big a tool for my size of colon.  My colon / rectal surgeon, who also did the sigmoidoscopy, said my colon looks to have healed well from my surgery and there is no sign my cancer has returned. 

FYI: the prep for a sigmoidoscopy is much easier than for a colonoscopy.  A couple of enemas, one two hours pre procedure and the other an hour before.  Not fun but colonoscopy prep is much more.  They did not take a biopsy of anything because they didn’t see anything unusual to get tested. Good news. 

As has been the case from each of my cancer surgeries, recovery from this last surgery is about recovering from the surgery itself.  Then you live with the consequences of whatever was removed. 

Life with one kidney means a bit less energy.  Life without a prostate means wearing a thin pad for minor leakage.  Life with less colon means your pooping routine is more frequent and a bit looser stool. 

Life with only about fifteen inches of colon is very livable however it changes things.   A colon removes moisture from your poop and stores the poop until enough has accumulated, at which time you feel the urge and you do what one does to get rid of the urge. 

With only about a fifth of a colon, even less moisture is removed and there is even less room for storage. The results are you poop more often and the poop is very moist. It takes several months to happen but the bottom portion of your small intestine learns to act a bit like a colon by performing some of the drying and storing.  Some drying and storing is better than nothing. 

I also take an Imodium and some psyllium with orange juice in the morning and before dinner. It helps. All that said, I now poop several times a day.  According to my surgeon, my new normal will evolve as both me and my colon adjusts to each other.  

I learned that eating a whole bag of caramel corn while watching a hockey game was not a good idea.  Several hours later and several times that night my small colon decided to rid itself of this irritation.  I happened to have an appointment with my surgeon a couple days later.  He laughed out loud.  Yep, it will be a learning experience.  However, I will learn what works and what doesn’t.  

Every three months I meet with my oncologist.  A week prior, there is a CT scan.  A half hour before the meeting they draw nine vials of blood and do a complete work up.  

They send one of the vials of  blood to a lab somewhere.  The lab looks at the molecular level to see if there are any signs of cancer.  Apparently this isn’t foolproof, however, for someone who has had cancer five times, it’s worth a try and Medicare agrees. 

The nice thing about getting comprehensive blood work every three months is there is a record and as a result they will know about any changes.  Essential for cancer diagnosis however also helpful for other medical conditions.

My hemoglobin, for example, has increased to a good level. I only have one kidney so my hemoglobin is not “normal” but probably as close to normal as a one kidney person can get.  

As for my life now, I no longer think about my cancer several times every day or even several times a week.  I am not in denial but mostly I think about other stuff.  Important stuff like, do I want a new phone, or I’m glad it is snowing so I can use the snowblower.  I used the cordless blower for the light snowfalls and it works really well.  Just thinking about how well the leaf blower worked on the light snow makes me smile. 

Over the past month or so I’ve done a lot of walking.  I listen to music or audio books, say hi to neighbors, watch the leaves rustle down the street during the light snow flurry as the wind blows.  I dress appropriately.  It is nice to be on an extended walk not having to frequently stop to take a break due to low hemoglobin. 

I am feeling better than I have felt in many years.  I poop several times a day but mostly it is not an emergency type situation.  I can go to plays, movies, and games. I can go to parties. I can walk around Como lake.  So my life is good. 

When I go to the oncologist office now, I walk by a large room where patients get infusions for treatment of their various types of cancer. It is a quiet, calm place.  Some of the infusions take several hours.  Some of those getting infusions are engaged in a life threatening battle.  Contrary to what you might think, in that room,  there is a sort of overwhelming sense of hope.  

I’m doing well and I have a strong sense of hope.  

The closer you look, the more you see. 

Lifelong learning

This post is not about God.  This post is about learning.   Part of learning is learning there are different perspectives on most topics. Maybe most importantly, this post is about not fearing learning about those different perspectives.  

Old dogs learn new tricks.   Perspectives can change.  I’m an old dog and recently I learned a new perspective on the idea of God. Not life changing. Not really even controversial. Just interesting to consider. 

Several years ago, Linda  convinced me to take lifelong learning classes through OLLI at the UMN. Pay the annual fee ($325) and take as many of the courses as you want for the next year.   There is a fall and spring session each with about a hundred different courses to choose from.  There is also a smaller summer session which has some tours and the like. 

Per the OLLI web page:  “The Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at the University of Minnesota (OLLI at the UMN) is a vibrant learning community for people aged 50+. Part of the College of Continuing and Professional Studies….”

I’ve taken twenty to thirty OLLI courses over the last five or so years on a wide variety of topics. Some very good, most pretty good and a couple were marginal.  All aimed for people over fifty. No tests, some reading for some courses, mostly a pleasant time learning new stuff with people my own age. 

So registration for classes in the Fall 2024 semester had come and gone. I missed the regular registration period. I was still recovering from my colon cancer surgery.  It’s more complicated than this; however, in summary, my bowel movements were frequent and unpredictable.  Not conducive to attending 1.5 hour long classes.  

Early September, about a week after the normal registration process ended, I had an appointment for a check-in with my surgeon. I whined about having to stay relatively close to a toilet.  He had a fix:  idmonium and psyllium.  Three days later I’m more or less regular. 

Call the OLLI office.  Yes I can still register but the selection is limited. One of the open classes was called “An Introduction to the Philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche”. I took the course. I’ve taken other philosophy classes over the years, so why not. On the negative side,  I knew nothing about Nietzsche, a German philosopher who lived during the second half of the eighteen hundreds. 

Understand, I am intellectually reasonably confident.  Not extremely confident but enough to give taking this philosophy class a try.  Here I am a couple months later.  Fall semester is over.  We met every Monday for seven weeks, each an 1.5 hours long.  Let’s just say I kept my mouth shut and just listened. I was humbled. 

The professor was Interesting, intelligent and a good communicator with relevant life experiences. This class was, in fact, over my head.  My fellow students were my age, friendly and reasonably funny.  However, here is the truth.  When my fellow students asked a question, most often they would refer to the writings of other philosophers and question the difference between the nuance of one philosopher to the nuance of Nietzsche.  Again, I was humbled. 

The instructor and my fellow students seemed to take this deep level of expertise on philosophers and their thoughts as normal and expected.  I’ve read and heard lectures on philosophy over the years but never at the depth and nuance that I experienced in this class. 

So we are in our third or fourth class, the instructor and my classmates are discussing Nietzlsche’s views on religion.   I’m summarizing here: Nietzsche writes that God is not alive or dead, because God never existed in the first place.  

The professor pointed out that if someone believes God was dead that implies that God was alive at some point.  It is like two sides of the same coin.  However, believing God never actually existed is a whole different thing.  

So my point here is not about God at all.  The point is taking a class on topics I might not normally engage with, exposed me to a different way to look at an issue.  Nietzsche believed in people behaving morally.  He just didn’t think someone had to believe in God in order to act in a moral manner.   

Whether some philosopher from 125 years ago believes God ever existed is kind of not the point.  The point, to me, was about  whether morality is directly tied to religious beliefs. Nietzsche said morality was not directly tied to belief in God. 

The cool thing about learning is quite often the topic being discussed is actually eye opening.  Most often, learning is about understanding there is more than one perspective on most any topic.  Learning is about not fearing to learn a different perspective.  

I also took a class called “The music of the Beatles”.  Learning more about the Beatles was fun.  Did you know the Beatles first Album, “Please, Please Me” was recorded in one eight hour session.  They were a very popular club band and for the first album they recorded the most popular songs from their playlist from the gigs at the clubs they were playing.   

There are OLLI classes on all sorts of topics, art, history, science, pop culture, and many more. About a third of the classes are online.  It is a very friendly and welcoming atmosphere.  Pretty much everyone, even in the online classes,  are there because they want to interact with others and in the process learn some new things.  

One last thing.  There are regular college students on campus doing things that college students do, like walking to class, talking to each other and studying.  It is kind of cool to say,  “Last week, when I was on campus….”

The closer you look the more you see.

Wise ass kid

In fifth grade, every student in my class got to be class president for a week.  Class presidents took attendance, made any announcements and I don’t remember what else.  It was a great honor. 

At the end of each week, the teacher would pick the student to be the class president for the next week.  The “goodie-two-shoes” kids got picked first, and then, progressively the less “goodie-two-shoes” kids got their turn.  

I was the least “goodie-two-shoes” kid and as such I was picked last.  The last week of the school year was three days long. My class presidency was revoked about five minutes after it started. You’ll have to wait towards the end of the story to learn why.  

Suspense is a good story writing tool, or so I’ve heard.

In hindsight, my teacher did not hate me, frustrated is probably a better word for how he felt.  Probably, he saw potential but he thought I was also a wise ass runt who wasn’t even trying.  

Failing fifth grade was often threatened, however, in my mind, I never felt I was actually going to be held back.  Two years later a teacher figured out I was functioning illiterate, not able to read very well.  My behavior in fifth grade was a symptom of an as yet, undiagnosed issue.  

However, back in fifth grade, I got along well with my fellow students.  I was a wise ass punk, whose wise ass remarks were, mostly, both insightful and a bit funny, not mean. I never intentionally disrupted the class.  It just never occurred to me that others didn’t want my opinion whenever I wanted to give it.   

Also know I was not picking on a defenseless teacher. Except for me, he had control of the class.  He was, I think, generally a good, well liked teacher.  He taught and kids learned. Most kids liked him. 

Also know that he hit me hard on the shoulder a couple times during the year.  Back then teachers were allowed to hit wise ass kids.   Yes he hit hard, however, I knew he was just trying to emphasize the point, he was leading the class, not me.  

Besides raising his voice at me several times a week, he only sent me to the principal’s office a half dozen times during the school year.  The first couple of times he was “red faced angry”, after that he sent me before he got that angry. 

Please note the first time I was sent to the principal’s office for disciplinary reasons was four years earlier, in second grade.  My third and fourth year teachers had both sent me to the principal’s office also.   By fifth grade, the principal was not shocked I had been sent to him. 

For me, being sent to the principal’s office was not scary.  The  principal would ask what I did.  I’d tell him.  He would say, it would be better if I was not such a smart ass.  The threat of being sent to the principal’s office is worse than the reality of being there. 

Early in the year my teacher would ask me to defend my comments.  Those reading this probably know I can, in most cases, defend my comments. Sometimes what I say might be a bunch of B.S. but I rarely am at a loss for words. Didn’t take long for the teacher to learn to not engage in a battle of wits with me.  

I was reasonably good at getting answers in math, the problem was they wanted me to show my work.  I don’t do math like that, it’s too slow. Yes, I can add even big numbers in my head, can’t you?  

In fifth grade, I would come in last in the weekly spelling contests.  Every week I was told I didn’t try hard enough. It never occurred to the teacher that poor spelling was a symptom of illiteracy, not necessarily of laziness. 

Every week, he meanly, loudly, announced to class that I had, once again, come in last in the spelling contest.  Shame can make you shy or as in my case, it made me even more of a smart ass.  

At the parent/teacher conference he told my mom I was misbehaving.  She told me I should not be disruptive.  Mom never expected me to excel. 

So here is the story of my short lived class presidency. First you’ve got to understand that while I was a jerk to my teacher, most of my fellow students liked me. Not because I was a wise ass but rather because I tried hard to not be a jerk. 

So on the Monday morning of the start of my presidency, before class began, I convinced about ten of my fellow students to follow my lead.  

It was a Monday but also the third to last day of the year.  I stood up like a class president does,  walked to the front of the class and said something really close to the following:

“Good morning, it is a beautiful day today, it would be a shame to waste it in a classroom. So, as my first official action as class president, I’m announcing that class is dismissed to the playground for a game of kickball. “

With that about a dozen kids stood up and headed for the door.  Our teacher was not amused.  He shouted for everyone to go back to their seats except me, because I was to report to the principal.  

For the record, even the principal thought it was funny. 

The closer you look the more you see. 

Colon cancer returns – again

I suppose the way to start is to just start with my colon cancer is back and surgery is scheduled to remove most of the rest of my colon.  Which theoretically will make me cancer free. 

Nineteen months ago, a couple days after Thanksgiving 2022. a cancerous portion of my colon was removed.  Almost exactly one year later, a couple days after Thanksgiving 2023, another cancerous portion of my colon was removed.  This upcoming surgery will remove all but a very small section of my remaining colon. All three colon cancers are genetically of the same strain. 

How my immunotherapy got recommended and approved is this whole complicated, nearly a miracle story, however the bottom line is seven weeks after the second colon cancer surgery, mid January, I started  immunotherapy (Keytruda).  They said, no guarantee it will work, but cross your fingers and hope, maybe, just maybe, my cancer days were in the rear view mirror. 

Every three weeks for a year I was to receive an infusion.  I tolerated the treatment well.  Of some concern, my hemoglobin levels were down, so I was also given  a couple iron infusions.  Keytruda does not always work however, often it does work. 

Just to be safe, I was supposed to be getting a colonoscopy every three months.  However, when scheduling, the earliest my surgeon was available to give me the colonoscopy was a little over five months from my surgery. 

Coming out of the anesthesia from my colonoscopy my surgeon said things looked good. As is standard procedure, they took a tissue sample which was sent off to be checked just to be sure.  A week later I was told by my oncologist and my colon surgeon that cancer cells had been detected in my colon.  Not many, but enough cells to say my cancer had returned.

Whether it was an act of a higher power that the cancer was found, I’ll never know.  However, I was told the number of cancer cells they found were so few that had my colonoscopy been two months earlier, as was the original plan, the cancer would likely not have been found.  Bullet dodged. 

My immunotherapy was stopped because it had not worked.  Stopping the immunotherapy was a blow to my morale. Having been repeatedly warned immunotherapy does not always work, my mind focused on the idea that “not always” means, sometimes it does work. No miracle cure for me. Shit is the word I said out loud to the doctor. 

There was then another tumor conference of relevant practitioners where my case was the subject.   The mutual decision was reached that I should have most of my colon removed.  Which is scheduled for July 16, 2024.  So depending on when you are reading this is just about to happen or has already happened.

I am told my life will be different with almost no colon.  Colons do serve a purpose after all.  However, nobody is telling me I am in grave danger of dying soon. So, that is what I know.

So this will be, or has been, depending on when you read this, my fifth cancer surgery.  My first was a cancerous tumor around the blood vessel that fed my right kidney.   Which required removing the blood vessel and thus also my right kidney.  Then about fourteen months later my cancerous prostate was removed.  Next came the colon cancer surgeries described above. 

Emotionally, this diagnosis has hit me harder than the last three times I was told I had cancer but not as hard as the first time.  To this day, I chock-up a bit when I talk or even think about the first time. That one hit me out of the blue and at first my prognosis looked rough.  As it played out, and it turned out not as bad as they told me it might well turn out. 

So here I am, facing cancer surgery number five. It’s been about six weeks since I got the news.  At first I was shocked, maybe a bit overwhelmed.  In my head, for about a week, I seriously considered not going through the surgery.  Mentally having cancer and being treated for cancer is depressing. Happy to be alive, depressed to keep having serious, life threatening cancer.  

My brain was running the idea that I’ve had a good run but even good things come to an end over and over again.  However, I got over it.  I met with the surgeon and got a good explanation of what was to be done.  Then surgery gets scheduled, plans get made, life moves forward and I move forward.  It didn’t take long for me to snap out of my funk and decide to move forward also. 

My surgery is classified as major surgery however, only moderately dangerous surgery.  

I have accepted that my cancer has returned and that soon I will be once again, recovering from cancer surgery. In addition I continue to be amazed at how lucky I am that my cancers continue to be caught early.  

The hardest part for me has been the same since my first cancer was discovered back in November 2019. Cancer is a hard thing to put in the rear view mirror. If you look back at our past appointment calendars there are several dozen medical appointments related to prevention or early detection of cancer. Blood draws, CT scans, specialists, appointments, trouble getting through to make an appointment.  You get the idea. . 

I’ve done seven colonoscopy type preps and about eight CT scans in the past two years.   There is no way to count them but I would bet I’ve had fifty blood draws in the past two years. I’ve had eight iron infusions.  I had seven immunotherapy infusions.  My blood pressure gets checked so often by professionals, I’ve stopped taking my own blood pressure. 

So here I am living my life day by day just like everyone does. My life is what it is and I am moving forward as best I can just like everyone else does.  

The closer you look the more you see.  

Being unique

Being unique

For this post you need to know that the combination of our traits and characteristics are what makes each of us the unique persons we are.  Yes, others can have many of the same traits and characteristics as each of us have.  However, nobody has the same combination of traits and characteristics as you have.    You are unique. 

So 52 years ago, I was a twenty year old student at the University of Minnesota, taking a class on the Psychology of Individual Differences.  The psychology of individual differences is the study of how people differ from one another in terms of their psychological characteristics, such as personality, intelligence, and motivation. The idea is to understand the causes and consequences of our differences and how they shape our experiences and behaviors.

Individual differences are influenced by genetic, environmental, and cultural factors. Our genes provide us with a basic blueprint for our physical and psychological traits, but our environment and culture also play a significant role in shaping who we are.

Here is an example. Being tall is helpful for being a good basketball player. Height is inherited.   However, practice, coaching, nutrition, and literally hundreds of other factors, in addition to being tall, are all part of actually becoming a good basketball player.  

Back to class, the professor gives us a general knowledge quiz. The last question is what color is your hair.   The teaching assistants quickly correct the test and run some statistics. While they do that, the professor proceeds with his lecture giving several examples of individual differences that collectively make people unique individuals.   

For example, some people who do good in math often also do better in science.  However, some people who do good in math dislike science for all sorts of reasons.    People who enjoy talking to other people might be better at sales.  He was quick to point out that many professors also like to talk. You get the idea.  

So while he is lecturing, one of the many examples he gave was that statistically blondes actually score lower on general knowledge tests than people with other hair colors.  He said it matter of factly and he then proceeded on to other examples of what makes us unique from one another.  Never again mentioning statistics related to being blonde. 

Then, later in the class, we take another general knowledge quiz. We hand them in and the teaching assistants score the test quickly.  On the first test every hair color had the same average score. However, on the second test, on average,  the blondes scored a bit worse than they did on the first test.  Every other hair color group stayed the same.  

Even fifty-two years ago, the power of feedback, both positive and negative, was recognized.  The professor said, in fact,  hair color is not relevant to general knowledge in any way.  However, if people believe it is relevant, then for all practical purposes, it makes a difference.  

For better or for worse, most of us are influenced by feedback we get from others.  Being told that you have a hair color that makes you not quite as smart, is enough to affect your performance.  

Teachers, parents, siblings, neighbors, strangers and others  give us feedback about our traits and characteristics all of the time.  That feedback often affects us in many ways, including changing how we perceive ourselves.   Being told you are bad at math, might make you try harder, however, it probably makes you feel you are somehow inherently not good at math.  So why bother to try hard. 

Think about how often, and how many ways you get feedback about yourself.  Mostly we pretend to ignore it, however, consciously or not, the feedback we get is internalized. What you do with that feedback is up to you. Do you choose to be motivated to try harder or are you motivated to accept your perceived limitations? 

Today we call this a feedback loop. We process the information fed back to us and, consciously or unconsciously, we use that feedback to help inform ourselves about ourselves.  Being told you are funny encourages you to try to be funny. Being told you are tall doesn’t make you taller however you might feel like you are taller. 

Back in that class, the professor warned us vigorously, be very careful what we feedback to others.  The feedback you give to others can have real world implications for their self image.  Remember this was an upper level psychology course, and many of my fellow students would be working with people who had serious mental health issues to deal with.

This story is not about how smart blondes are.  This story is about remembering the feedback you give others affects them. Our individual differences, quite literally make us the unique individuals we are.  Telling someone their individual differences is a negative thing is a bad thing to do. Hair color is not relevant to most anything.  Just saying. 

My genes make it hard for me to ever win a race or be a great mechanic. However, I was accepted into the University of Minnesota despite having horrible grades in high school because they relied on my ACT test scores, not my grades.  

We all are who we are with the traits and characteristics that we have.  Remember, all of your traits and characteristics were good enough that you survived to read this post. 

Be cautious when giving others negative feedback based on their individual differences. Almost nobody tries to do poorly.  Remember to emphasize the things a person does well.  

We all are unique. Unique is not a bad thing to be. Have you ever wondered how life would be different if you were told, repeatedly over a long time, your hair color makes you smarter? 

The closer you look the more you see.  

Something Changed

The last time I posted on my blog was over four months ago, a couple weeks after my latest colon cancer surgery.   Recovery from the surgery was without incident. Since then, although I’ve tried writing about my cancer journey, the words just wouldn’t come to me. Writer’s block is a real thing. 

Starting January 18, 2024 I got the first of what will be seventeen immunotherapy infusions.  I’m on a surprisingly strict schedule of getting an infusion every three weeks for a year. This story is about what my oncologist told me about 10 – 15 minutes before I got my fourth Keytryda infusion. 

To set the stage.  It is March 21, 2024 at about 2:00 in the afternoon, which is like an hour before I get the actual immunotherapy infusion.  They do a blood draw through my port.  Take a deep breath, hold it and, then when they say to let it out, they stick the needle through my skin into the port.  It stings a bit as the needle gets inserted but not enough where saying ouch is appropriate.  

The nurse drew four tubes of blood and put a label on each showing me my name and birth date on the label.  I’ve noticed that pretty much everything done at my oncologist facility is done very carefully.  They double check everything. 

It’s been quite the journey.  Four cancer surgeries with three different types of cancer in five years.   My life has been doctors, CT scans, more blood draws than I can count, six colonoscopy preps in the past 18 months, five iron infusions, several medicine adjustments, follow-ups, genetic tests, add to that normal check-ups and by now why doesn’t everyone feel sorry for me. 

During those five years we have taken a few vacations, and my life has not been all about cancer. Life goes on, the trash needs to be taken out, we go to plays and dance performances.  So don’t feel too sorry for me. I’ve had no pain. 

Being treated for cancer takes time and energy.  Every surgery requires a pre-op physical, a multiple day prep, a four to six day stay in the hospital and an extended recovery with a six week, ten pound, lifting restriction. FYI – for several months after the six week lifting restriction you still need to take it easy on lifting stuff.

While my life has not been all about my cancer, dealing with the various aspects of cancer has been a very big part of my life for these past five years.  

So back to getting ready for my fourth immunotherapy infusion.  I get sent to the waiting room while they analyze my blood.   Once that analysis is done they call me into an exam room and take my vitals. 

Then my oncologist comes into the room.  She is going over my blood work numbers, which looked good.  I’m asking about this number and that number. It is not my first rodeo.  To be honest, I was feeling like I was a member of my care team, not just a patient.  

I’m bringing up every minor thing that may or may not be anything.  My oncologist is listening carefully and responding with, true, however, that is not this nor is this that other thing.  All of a sudden she stops talking and sort of stares at me.   

Then after a couple beats and these are not her exact words but close:  She says: I recommend you let us worry about how you are doing. Maybe it is time that you worry less and just move forward and live your best life. 

She explained I am being monitored very closely.   The immunotherapy will very likely continue to work, thus preventing future cancers and if it doesn’t, they are monitoring me closely and will do what needs to be done. In the meantime, she said by the numbers, by our observation and by your own admission, you are doing good. It is time to move forward from your cancers.  

I must have had a puzzled look on my face.   As kindly as she could say it but as directly and clearly as she could say it:  it was time to move on with my life and leave being a cancer victim in my rear view mirror.  

Yes continue my immunotherapy, yes keep being checked for this or that. However, at this point those are just checkups and preventative measures.  It is time to move forward.  

So it turns out that it is hard to just stop thinking about my cancer.  However, I am taking her advice.  I’m in moving forward mode. 

As near as they can tell I’m cancer free.   I am undergoing the most advanced preventative measures known, immunotherapy.  I’m having no side effects. I’m feeling really good. 

If you are reading this it means I was able to write it. Which means my writer’s block about how I am doing has been overcome. 

I’m feeling great. I’ve been walking seven to ten thousand steps most days.  I’ve been using the elliptical machine at the Shoreview YMCA a couple times a week. I’ve been listening to audio books and thoroughly enjoying them while I walk or am at the Y.  

Life is good. I recently connected with a couple old friends and that has been great.  I’m taking several “senior citizen” classes at the U of MN. (Check out OLLI if you want check on taking classes)

Forward is the direction I am headed.   Time to close this up.  One of my classes is on the best albums ever, which has been fun.   My philosophy class is called “ Unpacking Free Will”. It is deep, I’m a bit over my head.  Thinking about deep philosophical stuff is good for the brain.  

The closer you look the more you see. 

My colon Cancer returned

 

On Tuesday, November 28, 2023 I had a portion of my colon containing cancerous growth removed at the exact same spot another cancerous growth was removed almost exactly one year earlier.  The surgery was successful and I am well on my way through recovery. 

Just so you know:  There was a blood leak which caused my hemoglobin to be low. A new tumor was discovered by the colonoscopy done to check for the blood leak.  Yes the two colon cancers are the same strain.  Yes, I have also had kidney and prostate cancer. Yes, some sort of treatment, chemo or immunotherapy is in my future. 

What I am writing about is the fear surrounding the word cancer.  The point I want to make is that the anxiety caused by the fear of cancer is not helpful.  Caught early cancer is most often not a death sentence. On the other hand, if fear causes you to not get checked out, that anxiety can be fatal. 

Being periodically checked for signs of cancer is the best defense. If you feel a change in your body, get it checked out.  Advocate for yourself.  Encourage those you know to get checked out whenever they feel something amiss.  “Oh, it’s probably nothing”, is not a good enough reason to forgo getting checked out.  

Cancers can be deadly.  Over a half million Americans die of cancer every year.  Most every adult knows someone  and many of us know more than one person who has died from cancer.   Cancer can be a slow and painful death.  Not all, but many of those deaths, could have been avoided if the person had been checked out earlier than they were.    

Everyone of us will die at some point.  Death is a fact of life.  There is always a cause of death and in many cases that cause was unavoidable.  We leave a mark when we pass, you will be missed. Missed a lot. Be proactive about cancer. 

This was my fourth cancer removal surgery.  First was kidney cancer December 2019, then prostate cancer April 2020 and then colon cancer on November 29, 2022.  All required surgery through my abdomen.  As surgeries go this last one was routine and the least painful.  Yes, my belly looks like a war zone. 

Surgeries are stressful.  They are not fun.  The routine in my cases included blood work, CT scans, colonoscopy, biopsies and an x-ray.  Call from the doctor telling you the results. Surgery is then scheduled, a pre-op physical, then prep for surgery including stopping certain meds, eating or not eating certain foods, the hospital check-in, surgery prep, visit from anesthesiologist, a visit from the surgeon, blood draws, tubes being connected and vitals being checked. 

I get wheeled into the surgery which looks nothing like surgeries look on TV. There are lots of machines, several people and people coming in or going out.   It is not a huge empty room. People are talking to you and to each other.   

The anesthesiologist technician says are you ready to count down.  I say yes and before I even start counting down, I’m out.  The next thing I know, I’m waking up in recovery.  Time passes as I fade in and out of consciousness during the process of coming to.  Soon I’m wheeled to my room.  

Cancer is a scary word. The dictionary defines cancer as, “a disease caused by an uncontrolled division of abnormal cells in a part of the body.”  Not all cancers are the same. Cancers can form on most any part of your body.  In fact there are often different types of cancers that can form on any given part of your body.  

I’m never sure how to talk about my cancer journey.  All of my cancers were discovered and dealt with early.  Serious disease but I never was told I was in immediate danger of death. 

With one kidney, my hemoglobin is a bit lower than normal so I get tired a bit faster than I would with two kidneys.  Without a prostate, I need to wear a pad because I can leak a bit of urine when I do things like pick something off the floor.  With a shorter colon the poop doesn’t dry as much so your pooping is different.  Not worse, just different. 

The biggest change in my life because of cancer has been because when your abdomen is cut open and sewn back together, there is a ten pound lifting restriction for six to eight weeks. In addition as one heals they get tired.  Multiply this restriction times four over a period of four years.  

In addition, each cancer requires several doctor visits immediately before and after the surgery.  Then periodic doctor visits every six months.  It gets hard to put the cancer in the rear view mirror because you get asked about your cancer a lot by well intended people and the professionals hired to keep you safe.  

On the other hand, I’m alive even though I’ve had four cancers, any of which would have killed me if they had not been caught early.  I am just plain lucky in one sense.  However, I’ve also been proactive when something is not quite right.  

So this is me being done preaching about cancer.  I hope you do not have to deal with cancer.   If you feel something is a bit weird or not quite right, get it checked out. If it is nothing you wasted an hour or two. If it is something you’ve added years to your life. 

The closer you look the more you see.

Whether weather

Mom told me she couldn’t control the weather, put on my jacket. Yes, I was dumb enough to have to be told to put on a jacket.  Linda agrees that I’m just marginally smarter now. 

Scientists agree with mom, we do not control the daily weather.  For the record, some scientists got grants to determine the temperature where most people should put on their jacket. However, that is a whole different story. 

We need to adjust to the weather we have, not to the weather we wish we had.  If it’s cold, put on a jacket. Reality is the world we live in, fantasy is just a nice place to visit once in a while. If you get too warm, then take off the jacket. 

The street in front of our house has gotten more potholes in the past couple of winters / springs than it used to.  Which is not surprising since these past couple years had an increased number of days when the temperature is both above and below 32 degrees (freeze/thaw cycles). 

The small cracks in pavement allows the thawed ice and snow (water) to seep in.  The water expands when it refreezes, thus cracking the pavement even more causing the potholes. However, I won’t bore you with that detailed information. 

The bottom line:  The climate changed, creating more freeze/thaw cycles which are wrecking our roads.

During my long and varied career  I worked for a very good, practical thinking County Engineer.  He taught me the following.  When a road is being proposed to be built, people will have all sorts of opinions about whether the road should be built and how it should be built.

Once the deed is done, the road is built, the real question people should ask is, how to best co-exist with the existing new road.  The game of “should of, could of” can be fun, but in reality, the only real choice is to move forward adjusting to the new road. 

Judging from the potholes in my road, the climate has changed. The deed is done. The only real choice is whether or not to put on our coats when it is cold. We need to fix the roads or choose to live with very rough roads.  

The biggest, baddest, weather event I ever personally experienced was the infamous mega blizzard in Minnesota which started on Thursday, Halloween day, back on October 31, 1991.  It snowed hard, the wind blew hard and it was extremely cold for three days.  Our eldest was to sleep over at her friend’s house overnight and was thrilled she ended up being there for four days. 

During every one of my seventy-one years, some sort of weather related record was broken:  Hottest, coldest, highest low temperature, lowest high temperature, most rain, longest drought, strongest wind, highest humidity, lowest humidity, most consecutive days with or without something and the list goes on and on and on.  

Over the years I’ve seen tornados, straight line winds, extremely heavy rains, big hail, trees blown down, power outages and beautiful summer days with low humidity, a light breeze and a drink in my hand. 

The weather is what the weather is, which is often not the same day to day. That is just the way it is. There is literally nothing I can do to change the day to day weather other than learn to adjust to whatever the weather is. Put on my jacket, put on shorts, apply sunscreen, you know the drill. 

Lately, by all accounts, the daily weather has been different than it has been my entire life.  Not every day is different and it is not different every place all at once but most days and in most places the weather patterns are different than they were most of the rest of my life.  

Freeze thaw cycles are more frequent, heat waves last longer, periods of drought are more frequent during some seasons and much less frequent in other seasons. It still gets very cold in Minnesota but not as cold for as long as it used to.  It still gets hot in Minnesota and it feels like it is hot more often than it used to be.

So I’m not super smart but I ain’t no dummy either. It is too late to prevent climate change.  The climate changed.  The real question we need to focus on is how to best survive with the weather conditions as they actually exist. 

Fix the roads to better endure increased freeze/thaw cycles. Wear a jacket when it’s cold and shorts when it’s hot. Grow the grass a bit longer. The road is built, we need to discuss how to co-exist with the existing weather.  

I’ve given up telling my kids to dress to the weather conditions. They are adults and are beyond hope. My game now is to tease the granddaughters about dressing to the weather rather than the current fashion trends. Just like my mom told me when I ignored her.

As I am writing this over Labor Day weekend 2023, Minnesota is enjoying temperatures in the high 90’s.  We have severe drought.  It’s been a long hot summer. We have no choice. Getting back to the weather we used to have isn’t an option.  

In summary, the weather is what the weather is. Weird. So adjust. 

The closer you look the more you see.  

Weird in a good way

My dad, middle back of this picture, died Thanksgiving Day, 1970 at age 51.  I am guessing the picture was taken in the early 1960’s .  

With him is his grandmother and his Uncle Elmer.  My two more experienced (older) sisters said Elmer was a bachelor.  Which is all I know about my dad’s uncle Elmer. 

Everyone has eight great-grandparents.  That is how it works.  The lady in the picture is the only great-grandmother I have a picture of.  I know little to nothing about any of them. 

Erma, my mom’s mom, is the only one of my grandparents I remember interacting with.  I was in my late twenties when she passed. I heard stories about the other three grandparents when I was young but have long forgotten what those stories were.  

Dad was born in Webster, South Dakota where this picture was taken.  My guess is he was there on a pheasant hunting trip. 

About a  month or so ago, I saw this picture and since then dad has been on my mind.  While I do miss him and mom, they’ve been gone a long time. Missing them tends to happen in the background.  However, for some reason, this picture brought dad to the front of my brain. 

When he died, I was a first quarter freshman going to Mankato State College but was home for the Thanksgiving holiday. At the time, for me, the fact he died was very sad but not shocking.  He had a bad heart. 

Mom who worked as a salad lady at Midland Hills Country Club, had gotten up early and went into work doing prep for the Thanksgiving event they had each year.   Dad was sleeping when she left for work.  I got up at about 9:00 in the morning like one does on a holiday. I don’t remember exactly but it seems to me my older sisters were home.    

Dad had not gotten up yet so I went into their bedroom to wake him up.  He was dead.  Calls were made, mom was soon home and the rest of that day and the next couple days are a blur in my head.  I do not remember helping make arrangements for the funeral or the funeral itself. 

Linda and I were less than a year into our relationship. I remember she and her dad came to the funeral but I don’t remember much else about the funeral.  

Thanksgiving break was just a couple weeks before the end of fall quarter.  The decision was made pretty quickly that I would go to school back in the Twin Cities so I could be home with Mom.  Not a huge discussion.  Everyone, including me, knew it needed to happen. 

I returned to Mankato, only for classes and my finals. Each trip home I’d bring stuff home.   By the end of my last final, I had only a small suitcase to bring home.  

Back then when a parent died, Social Security would pay for their children’s college tuition. There were forms to fill out and calls to be made.  It was too late to be accepted at the University of Minnesota for the rest of that school year. I was accepted to start at the U of MN the next fall.  

However, Anoka – Ramsey Junior College accepted me for winter and spring quarters. Which explains why my college manuscript says I went to Mankato State for fall quarter 1970,  Anoka Ramsey Junior College for winter and spring quarters 1971 and the University of Minnesota from Fall of 1971 to Spring of 1975.  

I’ve met my dads brothers and sisters, but had never met his parents, grandmothers, Uncle Elmer, any other of his aunts or uncles.  Over the years I’ve met some of his cousins and a couple kids of his cousins.  Leegard is not a common name so when you run into one, likely they are related. 

What has given me pause these last couple weeks is how, even though I only had my dad for eighteen years, quite literally, part of him lives on within me.  Genetically for certain but in many other ways, he taught me to do things. We were not best friends but he was my father and I was his son.  

His past is part of my past.  He made decisions that continue to affect my life.  He only had an eighth grade education but by my memory and by all accounts I ever heard about him he was an intelligent person.  

Dad was a bricklayer.  When I was like 10 or 11 years old, he took me aside and told me to study hard because he could already tell I did not have what it takes to be a bricklayer.  I was crushed then but it remains some of the best advice I ever got.  Turns out I have a bone structure which restricts my wrist movements.  He was right, physically I would never be good at laying bricks.

Each human who has ever lived were born with two biological parents, four grandparents and eight great-grandparents and so it goes for many generations.  Each person born with the same parents has the same grandparents, and the same great-grandparents all the way back through the generations that are our family trees.  

Back in April, I had a genetic assessment to determine if my genes contained defects that explained how I came to have colon, prostate and kidney cancer.  They didn’t find any.  A couple months later I am looking at old pictures. I ran across this picture. 

Here are three of my relatives. All have long passed into the great beyond.  Quite literally each of their lives and the lives of all of my relatives have affected the course of my life.  When they decided to migrate, whom they decided to marry or not marry. What schools they went to or didn’t go to. When they died. 

Looking at this picture gave me pause.  These are three of my relatives, two of which I never met. Their life circumstances directly impacted my life circumstances.  That is just the way life works.  It is weird but in a good way, I think.

The closer you look the more you see.