Living with MCL

Ever since I was diagnosed with MCL, it seems that every occurrance in my life takes on some significant meaning. I’ve always been somewhat superstitious to the point I never liked Fridays that fall on the 13th, I never carried around $13 or 13 cents in my pocket, wouldn’t walk under a ladder, and I always turned around if I saw a black cat cross my path.

I can remember one day, before my diagnosis, a black cat crossed my path on a day that I was going scuba diving with a friend at Catalina, and for what ever reason, I didn’t turn around.

We ended up going to the back side of Catalina, which isn’t always accessible because of the winds and waves, but that day was a good day. At the end of the second dive, as we were surfacing, my weight belt (I stopped using a weight belt after that) got tangled in some kelp, and I stopped ascending when I was about 30 feet below the surface.

I didn’t panic ‘too much’, but I couldn’t seem to get easily untangled. Eventually I managed to unbuckle my weight belt, and get free of the kelp. Of course as I unbuckled my belt, my body wanted to float away. Fortunately, I was able to hang on to the belt, and to some kelp at the same time, preventing an uncontrolled ascent. That may not sound like much, but the belt weighed 32 pounds, and trying to hang on to the belt with one hand, the kelp with the other hand, while at the same time controlling my natural body floatation was not that simple.

Fortunately I was none the worse for wear, but I’ve often wondered if the black cat was the reason I got tangled in the kelp, or the reason I was able to get safely freed. Oh well, I guess I’ll never know for sure.

Then this morning, as I was preparing to ride my bike in to work from Leo Carillo beach in Malibu, I discovered I had a flat tire. I keep a bike in the car I drive to work all the time, and it seems in the heat this past weekend, the air in the tube expanded causing a blow out.

There are two things that make this so profound. The first being, it was relatively cool, with a fairly heavy marine layer and a slight mist in the air. It wasn’t really optimum riding conditions, so it was an easy decision not to ride in to work.

The second thing that was so profound was just on Sunday, I commented to Jim (one of the old gang), who always lets the air out of his tires when he puts his bike in the trunk, because of the exact problem I experience this morning, that I never had that problem.

That’ll teach me!

Anywaze to sum up here, over the past several years I have become somewhat less superstitious. Becky has even convinced me that 13 is actually a lucky number in Norse mythology. But my phobia with black cats still lingers on somewhat, and stems from the fact that Edie and I have only had 2 black cats since we’ve been married, out of a total of 10 cats, and only the two black cats died of unnatural causes.

Maybe it’s just bad luck to be a black cat, and coming in contact with one is good luck for that individual, or not.

This morning I didn’t come across a black cat, and the day started out with a flat tire, and I didn’t ride into work as originally planned.

Bad luck? Maybe, but just a few minutes ago, John, my riding buddy at work, wanted to know if I wanted to ride the Computrainer. We have two Computrainers at work, and we haven’t done one of those workouts in over a month, and I always enjoy the competitive nature of that workout.

So maybe that was good luck. Or maybe not. I just don’t know anymore. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

Update 2:00 PM PDST

Well John came through, and we rode the Computrainers at lunch. I led the first half of the ride (12.5 miles total), getting off to a fast start, but John managed to catch up. He’s a lot better on the down hills than me. For the next 6 miles, we jockeyed for position until John passed me on the final hill, to nip me by a tire width (.2 seconds).

I lost, but it was exciting till the last minute, and it was a great workout, making up for not being able to ride into work today. John’s also about 8 years younger than me.

We used to go out to dinner a lot. Well that is if you consider once or twice a week a lot, but over the past year though, that has changed.

One reason for the change was my aunt coming to live with us. She doesn’t eat much, and it’s hard for me to justify spending $25+ on a meal for her, which she barely touches. The second reason was building the barbecue in the back yard. It was something my wife always wanted, and it’s a work of art. How can we justify not utilizing it as often as possible? Thirdly, we like to drink wine, and any more, it ends up costing $8 or $9 just for a glass of mediocre wine, and a lot more if you buy a bottle. And if you bring your own bottle, the restaurant charges you $15 or more for corkage, on top of what you paid for the wine.

But now I can add one more reason not to go out so much, and it’s just that the quality of food, and the overall experience has deteriorated so much.

Saturday night we went to a new French restaurant in town (Second Street in Naples) called Fringales. It is a prix fix menu which consisted of one appetizer, one main course and desert, for a total cost of $25.

I should have known there was a problem when we walked in, and noticed their entire collection of wine located on both walls of the room (the place is too small for a wine cellar). When I asked the waiter for a wine list, they didn’t have one. What kind of “French” restaurant doesn’t have a wine list?

The waiter appeared knowledable, and asked what kind of wine we liked. The usual response for us in that case is Pinot Noir. He indicated he had one, and went to the “wall” to pick it out. He came back with a French wine, which was labled Pinot Noir. That should have been my second clue. Any French wine that says Pinot Noir can’t be good. It should have said Bourgnone, which is the area French Pinot Noir’s are grown. Who knows where these grapes came from? The waiter said it was a good wine, so I took his word for it, and agreed to the $38 cost.

Not only wasn’t it that good, but it was overly warm. It was in the 80’s that day, and since they don’t have air conditioning, the wine was at room temperature, that is, it was in excess of 80°F. I should have taken that opportunity to return the wine, but it wasn’t spoiled, so I chose to stick it out, hoping the food would be worth it.

The saga continues. The first thing we noticed was the bread was stale. When we told the waiter about it, and asked if he had fresher bread, he simply said that’s all they had. It was all like that. Not, oh I am sorry, let me see what I can do for you! Even if all they had was stale bread, at least he should have apologized.

For appetizers my wife and aunt ordered salads which were edible, and I order the smoked andouille sausage. I’m not sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t what I got, and it was pretty awful. It was cold, and I think raw, but I’m not sure about that.

Alas dinner came. My wife and I had ordered the filet mignon. The first thing I noticed was there was absolutely no thought to the presentation. The plate came with the steak, covered in a green pepper sauce, mashed potatoes and green beans, all just placed around the plate. Ok, so maybe I’m being a little picky, but this was a French restaurant, and the French pride themselves on their food prepartation and presentation. Well, in France they do. At least the steak was prepared properly, and aside from the sauce being a little salty, wasn’t too bad.

The total price for the meal was $140 which included a $12 tip and $5 for two coffees which I am sure the menu said was included. The hosted said no it wasn’t, and felt it necessary to add that no restaurant in the world includs coffee with the meal. I’m not so sure of that, but I wasn’t about to argue.

So would I go back? If you have to ask that question, you need to read this post again from the beginning. Not only wouldn’t we go back, but I’ve just become more soured on restaurants in general.

We can go to Costco or almost any grocery store, and get great wild salmon, steaks, lobster, or almost anything else we want, open a great bottle of perfectly chilled wine from our cellar, and prepare a far better meal on our outdoor barbecue, for no more than a third of what that meal cost. Sure there might be some clean up required, but that’s why we have an automatic dishwasher.

So thumbs down to Fringales!

Just come over to our house for a great barbecue. But don’t forget the wine!

I had to go into work today (I normally have Wednesday’s off) to cover for our sales manager, who had two customers visiting at the same time. I had to entertain one of the customers who wanted to watch some parts being forged, and expose a summer intern to exactly what is involved in the manufacturing of the products they produce.

For those unfamiliar with what I do, I work for a small aerospace manufacturing firm which produces forgings used primarily in jet engines and for aircraft structural parts. We manufacture the parts using large hammers, which for lack of a better description, think of as a process similar to a blacksmith making horse shoes. We just do it on a much grander scale, with our largest hammer rated at 50,000 pounds.

It’s dirty, noisy, and it is a lot of hard work for the guys who do the actual production of the parts. Fortunately I only have to tell them what temperatures they have to heat the material to, in order to obtain the desired mechanical properties, which I do from a relatively clean and quiet office.

But for some reason today, as I was escorting our customer through the plant, it really seemed to hit home just how hard those guy work, and the environment they have to endure, 10 hours a day, 4 and sometimes 5 days a week. I’m not sure I could have survived very long doing what they do.

Fortunately I don’t have to do that, and I sense most people reading this post don’t either. But there are many in society who do, and I think it is important that we don’t lose sight of just how much every American has and still contributes to the well being of society.

I was going to say a lot more on this subject, and even started a little political rant, but I decided against that, and instead just wanted to thank all those who do the physically demanding, nasty and dirty work which has made my life and everyone elses a lot easier and enjoyable.

Thank you!

Ok, some of you who know me are probably saying, here he goes again, talking about fatigue. And yes, I have written previously on this subject, but since I have been getting a little off topic lately, and I recently came in contact with an old business associate, who claimed he was suffering from fatigue, I thought it appropriate to rehash my feelings again.

The business associate I referred to, had recently suffered an attack of shingles. I was surprised because that is a condition very common among lymphoma and leukemia patients, and those with compromised immune systems. It is especially common among those who have undergone some sort of chemotherapy, and he didn’t have any of that.

He had always been a very strong and competitive cyclist, an since he was in the later stages of recovery, I asked him if he had been riding his bike lately. He indicated that he was unable, due to fatigue.

We ended up talking about fatigue a little, even reminiscing over chronic fatigue syndrome experienced by some elite women cyclists in the late 80’s, which was attributed to the Epstein Barr Virus. I chose not to convey my beliefs about fatigue then, instead preferring to write about it today.

My belief is, in the absense of a low hemoglobin count, fatigue is not real, but rather it is a manifestation of depression.

And just what are my qualifications to be able to express an opinion on this subject?

First off, I have been diagnosed with a Mantle Cell Lymphoma (MCL), a terminal cancer. So I think I can certainly speak to problems with depression. And secondly, one of the listed symptoms of MCL is fatigue. So I should be an authority on that subject also. Not only that, but I actually have a low hemoglobin count, which has been fluctuating right around 13 for the past several months. (Reference range of 14 – 18). So I would even have a medical basis for claiming fatigue, if I so desired.

The last two days are perfect examples. Both mornings, I had to literally drag myself out of bed. I will admit that nature had something to do with that, but I could have easily gone back to bed, and stayed there all morning, had I the desire. After all, why would I want to get up? The temperature was 65.5F, and “June Gloom” was in its glory. “June Gloom” is a major cause of depression for many, so I would have had a great excuse.

But I chose to stay up, mainly because I knew if I didn’t, I would regret it later. Plus I was committed to meeting the old gang on Saturday for our newly resurrected classic ride.

So I dragged myself downstairs, and turned on my computer. (NOTE: It’s amazing how much my life revolves around the computer, but it is a great outlet and diversion from real life. A few people had written to the various listservs (newsgroups) I belong to, but for the most part, activity quiets down quite a bit during the weekend. It’s good to know that most people actually have a life beyond the internet.)

Anywaze to get back to the point at hand. While I was up, I still didn’t feel that great. Remember "June Gloom"? I moped around the house a bit, then Edie made bacon and eggs. That always perks me up a bit, for what ever reason. I guess maybe after eating the eggs and the bacon, I know it’s even more vital to go for a bike ride to work off those extra calories.

Sunday was basically the same, except instead of meeting friends for a ride, I was spurred on by the fact that the scale said I weighed 164 pounds, which was the direct result of having stuffed myself with lots of food and wine at a friends house Saturday night. Thanks Pat!

But just getting on the bike changes everything. Even though I am depressed to start, seeing old friends, and pushing myself beyond what I think I am capable of, seems to make me forget all the reasons I was depressed in the first place. I only wish I was as strong as I was when I was 40.

So the next time you think you’re fatigued, think again. Unless your hemoglobin is low, you don’t have a good excuse. The fatigue is more likely a result of depression, and my best advice is to drag your butt out of bed and out of the house. You won’t regret it.

You’ll only regret it if you don’t!

Oh, and BTW, the sun has been coming out around noon the last couple of days, giving us back our typical SoCal June. It’s cool and overcast in the morning, sunny and warmer in the afternoon. Absolutely perfect days.