My mother, Oneta Ann Sheridan Brown, died in her sleep on October 17th, 2025. She was living at The Villa at Blue Ridge Nursing Home in Columbia, MO.
Mom was born on November 9th, 1940, in a barn, on a farm, near the town of Vandalia, MO. I took a few liberties with the truth in that last sentence. I do not think Mom would mind. She did have a sense of humor. I often heard her laughing while she whooped my ass. She could swing a mean crutch.
She is survived by her sons, Kevin and Keith Brown, and her younger brother, Jimmie Sheridan. Grandchildren Erin, Justin, and Amy. Great-grandchildren: Camden, Adalie, and Reed. Of course, Kevin was her favorite son. (Guess who is writing this.)
She was preceded in death by her parents, Albert and Liz (Elizabeth) Sheridan. I knew them by their alias: Grandpa and Grandma.
Her older brother, J.W., and younger brother, Billy Bob, have also passed. They both passed away too young.
During visits with Mom over the past few years, I have tried to learn more about her childhood. I did not learn enough. We always feel we will have more time.
I did learn that her grandfather and uncle operated a moonshine still during Prohibition. She told me about her uncle going to federal prison during Prohibition due to his extracurricular spirit activities. He never ratted on her grandpa. I will tell that story one day. Sheridan outlaw blood.
I do want to talk about Mom’s early years. These years tell of her fight for life and a never-give-up attitude. Mom was a strong woman.
When she was seven years old, she walked into the kitchen and fell to the floor. She would never walk again. She saw doctor after doctor before she was finally diagnosed with polio. She lost the use of both legs. She wore braces and walked on crutches much of the rest of her life.
Doctors said that she would not live for more than a few years. She died one month short of 85. They said that she would never have kids. She had two sons. She was told that she would never drive a car. She learned to drive in her 20s. She was told over and over again that she could not do this or that. She proved them wrong.
The years on crutches took a toll, and she needed multiple shoulder surgeries. She finally had to move into a wheelchair. Not just any chair, but a turbocharged chair. One that moved so fast that they had to put a governor on it so that she would not run over people in the halls of the nursing home. Natural selection, she called it.
She did not like the nursing home, but who does? One day, an administrator contacted me to let me know that Mom and one of her friends had left. I found out that Mom had driven that turbocharged chair some distance down the street to eat at a restaurant. She was always complaining about the food at what she called the joint. They also happened to stop at a liquor store on the way back and made a purchase. The evidence was located in her mini fridge. Busted. Life in the joint. Sheridan outlaw blood.
Per Mom’s wishes, there will be no service. On the 25th, the family will gather at the City of Laddonia Cemetery, where Mom will be buried next to her mom and dad.
If you knew my mom, I ask you to go to your mini fridge on Saturday at 2:00 PM and grab a spirit of your choice. Pour a little out, and relive a memory. She would like that.
(This was posted on Facebook two weeks ago. I add it here so that those not on facebook might find it.)
I was sitting on the patio at my hotel restaurant, having lunch and watching people and traffic on Central Street. Central is what Route 66 is called as the highway makes its way through Albuquerque.
It was Sunday, and at times it looked like a parade of cars, trucks, and motorcycles on Route 66. Some of the vehicles were old, and some were new. Many were painted so beautifully they looked like works of art. They were all loud works of art.
I saw that as the parade went by, many honked and waved at the people sitting in their lawn chairs on the sidewalk across the street from me. The folks in the lawn chairs would wave and yell back.
I could not tell how many people were sitting across the street. My vision was partially blocked by a truck parked on the street.
The truck reminded me of Mater from the movie Cars. Except that this truck was not rusted, nor was it a tow truck. It was parked on Route 66. I guess it could have been Mater’s little brother.
Mater’s brother
I decided that I needed to go across the street and talk to the folks. They looked like they were having fun. I wanted to meet them and have a conversation.
First, I needed to run up to my room and grab my memory maker. I have often found that my camera helps break the ice. It opens the door to conversation. If I start by asking for a picture of the truck, it could then move into a group picture around the truck, and then to individual photos and conversations. I had a plan. Who knows, we might even talk cancer.
I ran across the street with my MM. I found three women and three men sitting in the lawn chairs. Of course, I approached the closest woman, because you know that it would be a woman in charge of this party. It turns out that she was the owner of the truck. I asked about getting pictures of the truck and the group around the truck. I also told her about the photo project and fundraiser that I was working on. She told me that her mother was a breast cancer survivor and that the lady sitting three chairs down was also a cancer survivor. She said that I should definitely talk to her.
I walked down a few chairs and introduced myself to Brenda. During our conversation I learned that four years ago, Brenda had gone into the hospital for a hysterectomy, and during the surgery cancer was found in her fallopian tubes. The surgery then turned into a cancer operation. Brenda came out of the surgery a cancer patient.
The cancer was discovered early, and since the surgery, her tests have found no evidence of disease. She is in remission.
NED, no evidence of disease, is a phrase that I often think about. It is a phrase I have never heard from my medical team when talking about Brutus.
I am reminded of the spread of my disease every two or three months when we check the numbers. The doubling time of the disease is concerning. In the past several years, Brutus has doubled every two to four months. It varies from testing cycle to testing cycle. Brutus most often doubles every three months. The numbers climb and do not come down until I once again go on hormone treatments. When the numbers go down to a lower level, the treatment is stopped. I go off the drugs and try to get better. The numbers will start to go back up, and the doubling time will once again be around three months. This is my cycle of intermittent treatments.
How long can I stay on intermittent treatments? Well, I have been on my treatment plan for years, but it could be coming to an end. That is the feeling I get from my new oncologist.
My new doctor wants to see how my tests come out in November. My last test was horrific. We want to see if things go back to my standard doubling time pattern or if this is a new phase of Brutus that we have not seen before.
My doubling time from my last test was calculated to be two weeks. Two fucking weeks! That is a concern. That is crazy. That has never happened before. Fuck you Brutus.
What is the cause of the dramatic growth? Could it be the tumors they found in my chest near my heart? Could it be the cancer found in my pelvic bones? Could it be the tumor in my head? Could it be a tumor or tumors that have not yet, but soon will show up on the scans? All the unknown has been challenging to deal with. Your mind wanders. Sometimes it wanders into very dark areas. My future becomes a big unknown.
While visiting with Brenda, I wondered how she dealt with the unknown of being in remission, but not yet considered cancer free. I asked what advice she would give to a cancer patient. At that time in our conversation, I was not sure if she knew that I was a cancer patient. She shared her wisdom on how to deal with cancer by showing me the tattoo on her right forearm. It read…One Day At A Time.
This is advice we have all read or heard before. It applies to life in general, but most people do not feel the words. I mean, really, feel the words. They are felt when something significant happens in our lives. It might not be cancer. It could be many different things that would cause a person to evaluate what they are going through and realize that it helps if you adopt the wisdom of…One Day At A Time.
One or two of those days I recommend you spend at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta.
Fierce’s seventy-six-year-old grandmother passed in 2022 from cancer. She did not tell anyone that she had cancer, and she did not receive any treatments. One day, she checked herself into a hospital, and that is how the family found out about her cancer. A week later, she was gone.
Fierce believes that his grandmother did not tell anyone about her disease because she wanted to be in control. She did not want to do treatments, and she did not want anyone hassling her.
Fierce understood why she did what she did. He did not like it, but he understood the reasoning behind it. He just wished he had a little more time to say goodbye.
I understand his grandmother’s thinking. I have often thought that if I make it into my mid-seventies, it would be time to re-evaluate whether or not I should continue treatments.
I had an appointment with my new oncologist a week or two ago. Time flies. He was trying to gently pave the way for his future, and probably very soon advice that I go on permanent treatments for as long as they worked instead of the intermittent therapies I had been using for years.
When I saw the doctor, we were still waiting for my most recent PSA results. He was waiting for those results to give his recommendation.
I told the doctor that I was tired of all the tests, the surgeries, the radiation, and all the pills.
He told me that it was better than the alternative.
I decided that October would be a good month to start a fundraising project for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. I am calling the project ‘Let’s Talk Cancer.’
From the project title, you can tell that I do not want to do this project alone. I need your help. I need you to share your experiences about how cancer may have affected your life.
You may be a cancer survivor, a patient, a caregiver, a friend, or a family member. Sharing your story can help others.
I have been a cancer patient for several years. I would be willing, as I hope others would as well, to answer questions about my/their experience. This would be your chance to ask questions and for us to talk.
I recently spoke with friends about death. One question asked was if I could know the day that I was going to die, would I want that information? I have an answer. I was asked if I had ever thought about ending my life. I have an answer. The answers are my thoughts and feelings.
Throughout the month, you can share your experiences, thoughts, and feelings in the comments, or you can contact me via Messenger, text, email, or call. I’m looking forward to the conversation.
As many days as possible during October, I would like to profile someone who has shared their experience with me. A picture of the person will be included.
You can send a photo to me, or I can take one of you. If you do not wish for your photo or name to be used, I will respect your request. I have plenty of pictures of me that I could use.
I have been out and about with my memory maker, approaching people I don’t know, and asking if I could take their picture. Of course most ask why, and I will explain the project. I then take their photo, and we talk about cancer.
You will meet them over the next month.
Ice cream may not cure cancer, but it sure helps.
Picture taken in August 2025 in San Diego while at a Cards vs. Padres game. Rally ice cream! We lost, so next game I will have two.
Camden, I enjoyed seeing and talking to you, Adalia, and Reed yesterday via Facetime. I’m still hoping to understand how technology works. I wonder if I will ever get it. Don’t answer that question.
What I didn’t get to talk to you and your mom about yesterday were the results of my recent tests and scans.
I have spoken to your Aunt Amy and Uncle Justin, but not your mom. I did not have the opportunity to bring it up yesterday. Maybe I should call. Your mom is so busy.
What you ask is so important. I am not sure it is that important, but she always wants to know about my visits with my medical crew. A few other people have also asked me recently, so here is a little update.
You know that it has now been three months since finishing my radiation treatments. Three months is the time period they wanted to pass to determine how the new drug with radiation combo had worked.
I had started a new cancer drug about a month before the first radiation treatment. A pill that I take once a day. It replaced the shots I received at the Cancer Center.
I had hoped the recent treatments would have destroyed or at least shrunk the BAT. Big Ass Tumor… in case you did not read the last update. If not destroyed, then shrunk to a size I would not have to worry about for a while.
That was my hope. That is not what happened. I’m still hopeful.
To explain what has happened, let’s go back a few months. A month after my last radiation treatment, my blood was checked. The test showed that my cancer number was down. Way down! I had not had a number that low for many years. I was happy, and my medical oncologist was happy.
That day my meeting with my MO was going well. Now, it was time for me to change the room’s mood. You see, I do not like the cancer meds’ side effects. I wanted to ask for a drug holiday.
A friend recently asked me about the side effects. I explained they made me feel like I had the flu. A few other bad things, but probably the more concerning side effects that I did not mention to my friend are high blood pressure with the increased risk of heart attack and stroke. I take three different blood pressure medications. I take drugs to combat the side effects of other drugs. It sucks. So, I asked for a drug holiday.
The conversation went like this: Doc, you know that new medicine I am on. Yes, of course you do. You gave it to me. Well, I want to stop taking it. I’m not too fond of the side effects, and with this low number, I feel that I could give it a rest and let my body recover. What do you think?
Asking what he thought of my idea may not have been the best strategy. I was a little worried…but it worked. Hell, he agreed with me.
The good Doc, today he is a good Doc, said that the drug was very toxic. He said TOXIC. I didn’t say it, he did. He said that he had no problem with me TEMPORARILY going off the medication.
Wow! I didn’t even have to put him in a headlock and give him a noogie. My people skills are getting better. I was happy. Thank you, Dale Carnegie.
So, since I was going off the toxic poison, the question needed to be asked if it was the drug or the radiation that sent my number tumbling. Kinda like the one-two-punch of Walker and Texas Ranger. Wait a minute, is that one or two people? I never really watched the show. I do know that Chuck Norris is a badass.
On May 13th, I learned that Brutus was also a badass.
On May 13th, my test showed that Brutus had tripled. I was hoping that my number would continue dropping. Down, down, down is where I want it. Damn!
So, is it because I stopped taking the drug? Or is it because the tumor has recovered from the radiation and is growing?
Either way, we have options. So, I need to take my mind off this situation (easier said than done), wait for all the data, and then figure out a plan.
To make that plan, I need a new brain scan. That was next.
On May 20th, I spoke with my MO about the results of that scan.
Before meeting with the doctor, I had not bothered to get a copy of the MRI report. I usually have to argue with three people before they give it to me. Something about them wanting the doctor to go over it with me. Well, let me tell you, they do not go over it. They cherry-pick what they want to talk about. I guess we all do that.
I am tired of that battle. I decided to be surprised. I figured that it was going to be a good surprise. It was not.
I was told that I had received “very little benefit” from the radiation.
What you talking about Doc!?
The BAT was still a BAT. I had hoped for a LAT.
The tumor had shrunk from around 26 mm to 24 mm. It still filled up most of the area of my clivus bone. Not much shrinkage.
Shrinkage…shrinkage…let’s talk about shrinkage.
Maybe I should dunk my head into a cold swimming pool for more shrinkage. Maybe.
Anyway, whenever I hear that word, I think of George Costanza. YouTube search “shrinkage George Costanza” for a good laugh. At least it was a good laugh for me. That is all that matters. My apologies to my female readers. It appears that women are my biggest audience. The four or five guys who read this will laugh.
If you do not laugh, I have to ask, “Are you really my friend?”
Okay, even if you do not laugh, we are still friends. I cannot afford to lose the few I have. Moving on.
The good Doc told me that my drug holiday was soon going to end. Damn!
In a month, he wanted my numbers tested and a new scan. Then, back on the drug. Double Damn!
I did not feel many positive vibes from my MO, so I wondered what the radiation oncologist would say. Two days later, I was in the RO office.
The doctor was not there, so I spoke to the nurse practitioner. She was a very nice lady.
We talked about shrinkage, and I smiled. George was on my mind.
She told me that it was possible that, over the next few months, the BAT might continue to shrink.
She emphasized, “possible.” She wanted me to know that it also might not shrink anymore.
I learned that the area could be radiated one more time. The question is, when do I want to do that? Now was not the time.
She pointed out that at least the tumor had not grown in three months. That is a positive.
I need to be positive. I need to have hope.
There is no sense worrying about the unknowns. Almost everything is unknown in the cancer world, so you must find a way not to worry and be happy. You know, “Don’t Worry…Be Happy!” Great song.
I’m still hoping that the tumor will continue to shrink.
I’m still hoping that the medications will continue to work and that it will take a long time before Brutus develops immunity.
I’m still hoping to travel. You know there are a few billion people on this planet that I have not yet met. I want to see what I can do about that.
I’m still hoping to love and be loved.
I am positive that I will continue to live life the best I can with as much adventure as possible.
This afternoon, May 25th, I leave on a seven-day storm-chasing excursion.
Camden, I will send pictures.
A few minutes ago, I got a call from the meteorologist leading us to death; I’m just kidding.
We are leaving this afternoon due to the storm activity forecast for the Wichita area. We were supposed to leave Sunday. I already feel the adrenaline rush.
Due to the weather, this update is a little rushed. Hope it makes sense.
(Kev is having breakfast for lunch at the Do—Dah Dinner in Wichita: chicken fried steak, hashbrowns, sausage gravy, and eggs. They call it the “Brutus.” He ate it all. Take that, Brutus!!!)
Camden, I have received a few messages and phone calls asking about the last few paragraphs in my recent post,
‘13 Roses.’
I knew I would need to give a better and more detailed explanation about the BAT.
Here we go.
In early December, I learned the results of my latest scan. It was discovered that Brutus had metastasized into my head. Damn!
After additional scans and talking with doctors, I was told that the BAT was inoperable. MF!!
BAT…Big Ass Tumor. Common medical terminology.
I think that should do it. What was that Camden? Oh, you think people would like a little more.
Okay, I think I will ask Brisket to write a guest post. Of course I mean Justin’s son, brother, and dog. How many other Briskets do you know?
Brisket has been reading some of Winston’s old BrownTown Christmas letters. When Winston died, that pretty much stopped the presses in BrownTown. That dog could write.
Brisket said he had been motivated by reading Winston’s letters and would like to try it. He told me he could write an update since we often talked while watching TV. He knows much about what is going on.
I have decided to give Brisket a chance so I can have more time to plan a few trips. Trips mean…I Am Winning!
Take it away, Brisket.
First, I would like to thank Kev, the academy, Winston, and Get Smart reruns for this honor.
Once upon a time, our Hero, Kev, was minding his own business in BrownTown, thinking about his next shared ice cream experience with Camden, Adalie, and Reed. Or maybe he was thinking about his next bowl of chocolate ice cream with Hershey’s chocolate syrup added for a better flavor. Yes, Camden, you and Papa know what to add to your ice cream. He sometimes uses your recipe and adds chocolate chips—a trifecta of chocolate.
Anyway, his phone rang while our Hero was living the good life. It was his smartphone but not his ‘Maxwell Smart’ phone. I believe he was not wearing those shoes. He was wearing house slippers—sometimes, house slippers are all he wears. He is retired from his former life of Kaos. SO HE THOUGHT!
Kev answered the phone and found the Head of CONTROL, his Medical Oncologist, on the line.
Over three months, Kev underwent a series of different tests and scans. He was expecting a call from CONTROL with the most recent scan results.
He felt his blood pressure rising and could hear his heart beating in his ears.
Kev had a very good idea of the news he would receive, but now it would be final. This is not how he wanted to start 2024.
As I said earlier, Kev had undergone several different scans, and the first results of a significant problem occurred a few weeks before Christmas.
The kids would be home in a few weeks, and as much as he did not want to, he needed to update them while they were all together. He did not want to have this conversation multiple times; he wanted to let them know that another explanation might be found. This was just one scan.
Kev knew that the medical people would want additional scans and tests—they always do.
He also knew that his diagnosis would not change after all the scans and testing. His body was confirming the original scan results.
His vision in his right eye was blurry, and he had trouble hearing in his right ear. He was often light-headed and dizzy, and things spun around. He has trouble with his balance. His head pounds and, at times, feels like it might explode.
No matter what his body was saying, this was Christmas. He minimized his ass off.
Minimizing his disease was something Kev had often done. He could do it but did not like it when others did it—especially medical people. Sometimes, the people are from CONTROL’s office.
Now, CONTROL was on the phone. He had Kev’s attention.
The scans were now completed. They showed that the international organization of evil led by the evil of all evil, Brutus, and his billions of cell followers had metastasized into Kev’s head.
The cancer is not in his brain but in a bone called the clivus. The clivus is located at the base of the skull and has three sections: upper, middle, and lower. Cranial nerves and arteries run through or near the different sections of the clivus into the brain—or out of the brain and into the clivus. I guess, actually, both. Maybe. Hell, how do I know? I am a dog. Anyway, the clivus is a small bone with a big job.
(Not a true image of Kev’s head. It would be bigger.)
Surgery, followed by radiation, is often the primary way Kev’s type of tumor is handled. CONTROL felt that the cancer had grown into sensitive areas that would be difficult to treat with surgery. The cancer was inoperable.
CONTROL called on Monday evening. The urgency in his voice was evident. He said that on Tuesday, he would make Kev an appointment to see a Cancer Center Radiation Oncologist. A few days later, Kev was sitting in front of the RO.
The day before seeing the RO, Kev went to the Cancer Center to pick up some poisons newly prescribed by CONTROL. While at the center, he stopped by CONTROL’s office and picked up a copy of the report from the latest scan.
Reading the report hit Kev. CONTROL had minimized the situation over the phone. Kev said to himself, ‘Hey, he can’t do that. Only I can do that!’
What the report described was indeed a BAT: Big Ass Tumor.
Kev knew where the tumor was but did not know its size before reading the MRI report. The MRI report stated that Brutus had taken over almost all of the area inside the clivus bone. Brutus was in the upper, middle, and lower regions. This was very bad.
Kev wondered if it had been found early enough. Due to its size, he was concerned that treatment was coming too late.
When Kev spoke to the RO, he agreed with CONTROL that surgery was not a good option. Radiation using CyberKnife technology was now Kev’s best option.
Now, if Kev wanted to travel to MD Anderson or Mayo, he might be able to find someone who would operate.
How much time would that take? Would he have that time?
While talking with the doctor, Kev was thinking a lot. He saw that the doctor was wearing a very nice pinstriped suit. Kev has a suit just like that. Kev likes suits. He likes doctors who wear suits. He liked this doctor. What if he went to MD Anderson or Mayo and the doctor was not wearing a suit? Kev decided that this local suit-wearing doctor would treat him. Humans can be so weird.
Cancer sucks, and often I can tell that he does not feel well. He is physically tired and emotionally exhausted. He tries to make people feel that things are okay. You might think that he looks great. Unfortunately, looks can be very deceiving.
Cancer has taken much from him and out of him. What he needs is impossible for now, but he can always ask.
Kev has asked all of his doctors the same question in one form or another whenever a new treatment, drug, or scan is available.
After discussing the treatment plan with the doctor, Kev asked his question…
“Can you cure me?”
Kev knows the answer to this question each time he asks.
He is looking for or evaluating how the question is answered, the person’s confidence, whether they hesitated in answering, whether they responded truthfully or tried dodging the question, whether they answered at all or ignored it.
Without hesitation, the doctor looked at Kev and said…
“No, I cannot cure you. But I can give you more time.”
That was music to Kev’s ears. Well, at least one of them.
Kev wants to stay positive but realizes this new suit-wearing doctor has not yet met Brutus. We shall see what happens.
Kev was scheduled to go on an adventure in just a few days. He told the doctor of his transformational travel and alcohol plans. Kev wanted some time before radiation started. He was getting tired of Brutus fucking up his life.
The treatments would not start until they had insurance approval. That would take a few days.
Off he went to Mexico.
Upon his return, he underwent the knife… CyberKnife to his head.
I asked Kev to explain how Brutus ended up in his head
He told me that it was very rare for a prostate cancer patient to have their disease metastasize to the head. According to CONTROL, it happens in less than 1% of patients.
When the cancer does spread to the head, it most likely will happen to men with aggressive disease, which means men with high Gleason scores and short doubling times.
Over the past 17 months, Kev’s cancer numbers would increase, requiring more poison to take them back down. This up and down just kept going. Then the increases were more than the decreases.
The increase from low to high during that period was over 1,300%, which was a clue.
If Brutus were a stock, he would be called Nvidia. He will not go down. Kev keeps waiting for the crash. It just keeps doubling.
Kev’s doubling time has been around three months or less. With the quickest time being 1.7 months. Pretty damn quick! Another clue.
With all the clues, Kev asked for updated scans. CONTROL agreed.
That is when the head problem was found. I know Kev has a big head, but it is not big enough for Kev and Brutus. So Brutus was radiated.
Kev’s radiation treatments are now over.
In three months, another MRI will be completed. Then, they will know if the radiation worked.
If not: Damn!!!
Cancer for Kev and millions of other patients is a never-ending process.
If the CyberKnife is successful, Brutus will wait for another opportunity. He will show up again somewhere sometime, and then Kev and his medical team will continue their never-ending game of whack-a-mole. Because Brutus never stops.
Between all of that, Kev will try to have as many good days as possible, take as many trips as possible, see as many friends as possible, and make new friends along the way.
People often ask Kev what he needs.
I think what Kev needs is to see a smile on your face.
To hear you laugh.
Ice Cream
A hug.
I have heard that studies have shown that hugging benefits everyone involved. So you can be friends with benefits.
One last thing to mention while I hunt and peck on this keyboard. Typing without fingers is difficult, and my pawses keep slowing me down.
ESPN anchor Stuart Scott gave a speech in 2014 at the ESPY Awards. He said the following:
“When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live….”
I asked Kev about those words. He said that he thinks of them often. They motivate him. He knows that when his time comes, he will have many victories, while Brutus will have just one.
Camden, I would like to talk about Valentine’s Day with you. I know it was last week, but we can still discuss it. You can later share the info with Adalie and Reed. I know you made Valentine’s for your friends and your mom and dad. Adalie probably did as well. Reed probably did not. Unless you or Adalie helped him. I do bet he did eat his share of candy. Speaking of candy, save me a little. You know how Papa loves his chocolate.
Why do I want to talk about Valentine’s Day? That I am not sure. I thought it was a good idea until I started writing. Then, I decided that I could use some help with this project. Maybe I could ask others about Valentine’s Day and share their thoughts. I think that sounds like a good idea. A group project.
First, I will tell you about the history of Valentine’s Day. I watched it on the History Channel. Here we go.
Ever since Hallmark, the Roman God of Cards, came out of the sky with little man Cupid on February 14, who knows what year? We celebrate this day with candy, cards, flowers, and Viagra. History Channel, I tell you.
Valentine’s Day is a day of romance for some. A day to forget for others. Galentine’s Day is the day before Valentine’s Day. I hope it becomes more popular. It is a day to celebrate platonic relationships and especially for women of all ages to spend time with friends.
Camden and Reed, we need to devise a day for us guys. A bro day. What could we call it…Menentine Day? Not very catchy. Broentine Day? No, I do not like that one either. Hell, let’s just stick to Monday Night Football. Throw me that bottle opener, please. My manly hands are having a tough time with this twist off top.
So the day before Valentine’s, I went out into the world and bought a few roses. Gaga got a dozen. I shared thirteen roses with old and new friends. I asked each person for their thoughts on love. We had some great conversations. Let me introduce you to my friends and share their insights.
Diane
This is my new friend Diane. We met in the parking lot of the store where I bought flowers. She was parked a few spots from me. This would be an excellent chance, I thought, to ask if she would like to help with my project. She said that she would. We took a photo and had a conversation.
Diane’s first husband of forty years died thirteen years ago. If I understood correctly, she and her second husband have been together for nine years as of last week. Diane told me that love never leaves you and love never ends.
When I told Diane that I was going to write something up for my littles about Valentine’s Day, she told me that one of her favorite childhood memories was making Valentine’s boxes for her friends. One year, she made a box for her ill teacher. She and her mother took the box to the teacher. That was love. Diane said that love takes all forms. Love is friends, family, church, and the earth.
Diane told me that you know you are in love when you get a warm and exciting feeling when you see the person you love, no matter how long you have known them. I enjoyed our visit.
After leaving Diane, I went downtown.
I noticed a woman sitting at a sidewalk table finishing her lunch. I walked up, sat down, and started a conversation. Amanda agreed to take a photo and talk about Valentine’s Day.
Amanda
Amanda considers Valentine’s Day as more of a Hallmark day. She has never had a relationship where she has felt loved. She feels that more men go onto dating sites and no longer interact like “old school guys.” She feels that at thirty-three, she may never have that special relationship. I told her that she had plenty of time. Thirty-three is nothing. She was happy to hear that. I hope Amanda one day finds love.
After visiting with Amanda, I drove over to the building where I used to work. I might find a few friends who would like a rose.
My first stop once in the building was Becky’s office.
Becky
Becky told me that if you loved someone, you were there for them. You took care of them. Becky added that you should not kill them. Even if, at times, that is what you wanted to do. I did not ask her where the bodies were buried.
I then went upstairs to see my good friend Tammy.
Tammy
Tammy told me that love was the feeling you get when you look at your children and grandchildren and know you would die for them.
Tammy added that her answer about love comes from a single person. She was unsure she would ever feel romantic love again unless it was with Travis Kelce. Tammy does not want to be the reason for Travis and Taylor’s breakup. She does not want to piss Taylor off or cause more teardrops on her guitar.
(I am a Swiftie)
Now, if the remaining pictures look like they were taken in the same room, they were. I was on assignment in Tammy’s office.
Maddie
Maddie said that love was putting someone else’s needs before your own and enjoying that. She felt that you know you are in love when you want to do life with them.
Val
Twenty-two-year-old Val told me that love is having someone who will wake up in the middle of the night to take care of you when you are sick…after a night of drinking.
Good job L.J.! L.J. is Val’s boyfriend.
Sarah
Love is what we all need in life.
Love is hard.
It is not flowers and rainbows all the time. Sometimes, you have to pick to love someone even when you do not want to; when you do that, it makes you love them so much more. Stay through the parts you do not love, but say I will love them anyway. When you are really committed to someone, and there is that deep-down love, you will go through the ups and downs. You will give up on them if it is just an on-the-surface love.
Jennifer
Love is wanting better for someone else than you have for yourself. Jennifer feels you know you are in love when you can’t picture life without them.
Julie
Love is when you can be yourself and feel content. You know everything will be great with this person, and you can handle anything together.
Ashton
Love is feelings and actions. Actions would be how you treat other people and how you treat yourself. Self-love. Sometimes, love is being tough with others. Tough love. Doing and saying what is right. Ashton shared that she is dating a meteorologist. I asked if he predicted rain when his leg twitched. She said he shakes his magic eight ball.
Naomi
Love is being safe. Love allows you to be yourself. You do not have to put on a mask. I threw in another question and asked Naomi if she believed in love at first sight. She said that she did not. She met her husband when he was fourteen. They went to high school together. She thought he was a dorky-looking kid. Namoi said that as you mature, your criteria for love matures. It’s not all fun and games. It’s not all about what you do together. It is who you are together.
Dalena
Different types and stages of love. When you find out you are pregnant, it is instant love, and that love is stronger than anything.
Met her husband at age sixteen. Over the years, their relationship has changed. Going through peaks and valleys over the years. It has now evolved into a stronger relationship than they had initially. How they love each other today differs from how they loved each other during the early years of marriage. Learning and growing together over the years. Dalena and Felix celebrated their twenty-second anniversary this past week.
Lexi
Love is being so comfortable with someone that you can truly be yourself.
The love you share with your partner and your love for your children is different. The love you have for your children is unconditional. The love for your partner, well, that love is very “fucking conditional.”
Well, Camden, Adalie, and Reed, I hope you will someday enjoy going back and reading these thoughts shared with you by my friends who know something about Valentine’s Day and Love. We had great conversations.
I think of my conversation with Diane and agree that love can hit you anytime and at any age. Love never ends. Love for your family, friends, neighbors, and the earth differs from romantic love. But it is still love.
Love others by showing them respect and empathy. A kind word, smile, and gesture go a long way. It has been said that people often do not remember what you said, but they will remember how you made them feel. Be interested in others.
Love can hurt. It can hurt a lot. The loss of someone close to you. A person or pet. Remember, no one is promised tomorrow. Every chance you get, remind someone that you love them. Romantic love can also hurt. Give it all you have.
I love each of you very much. I see your mom, aunt, and uncle in each of you. It is like loving them all over again.
After Adalie’s birthday party today, Gaga and I will leave for a trip south of the border. A resort in Mexico.
When we return, I will begin radiation treatments for that BAT they found in my head. Oh, I am sorry you are probably not familiar with medical jargon. That is okay; ladies at the CyberKnife center were also unaware of BAT. I was surprised. I educated them.
Big Ass Tumor…that is BAT. They have found a Big Ass Tumor in my head. Damn! Damn!! Damn!!!
It is not good. We shall see how this shakes out. 😊
Hey Camden, how are you doing today? How is school? Okay, Okay, I know you hate that question. How was Halloween? Did the Daddy Tax go up this year? It was pretty high when your mom was a kid. Those were some tough times in Kidville. Just saying.
Camden, I know you are wondering, or maybe you are not wondering, why I have not written an essay in the last six months. Some have asked. Hey, has it been six months? I guess I did not have anything to write about. HAHAHA
Okay, much has been going on, and I am not short of essay topics. Just where should I start in an attempt to catch up?
Hey, let’s talk baseball. I always like talking baseball.
Camden, I know you, and I had tickets to see the Cards and Royals play this past May.
I hoped to hear the umpire yell, “Batter Up!”
As a catcher, I heard that often as I grew up.
Then the rains came. Sometimes the rain can temporarily change plans. We will see other games.
In my last essay, I talked about getting the newest super-duper FDA-approved PSMA PET scan they were using at the KU Medical Center, soooo I probably need to touch on that. The scan was not rained out.
I had scheduled the scan for when I was in KC. I was going to see you. We were going to watch baseball. I was going to have the scan, and then Dave Pace and I planned on flying to San Francisco to see the Cards play the Giants.
Why San Francisco? Well, we wanted to see, or I wanted to see, the Cardinals play in another city. I had never been to San Francisco. Now I have. We will call the trip…Dave and Kev’s Great Adventure.
While preparing for this great adventure, I asked the cancer center to have one of the nurses call me with the results. I knew that KU Med would have sent them the results while I was on my trip.
I knew what was happening. My medical team knew what was happening. We just needed confirmation. The scan would help us decide what needed to be done.
Camden, my body was telling me what the scan would find.
I could feel that Brutus was growing. My doubling time for the past year was now three months. Damn!! That is very fast.
So, Brutus, you think you are fast, do you? Let me tell you that you are not as fast as Camden and I are eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream. So take that.
That takes me to another ice cream related thought I need to talk about before getting back on topic. Camden, I will talk about you now, so you do not have to pay attention if you do not want. Here is the thought.
Erin told me that Camden was eating some chocolate ice cream one day, and he mentioned that chocolate ice cream was his favorite. She told him that chocolate ice cream was also Papa’s favorite. He said that he knew that. He then added that liking chocolate ice cream must be in his DNA.
I laugh every time I tell that little story. Damn that hurt. I just slapped my knee. Control yourself Kevin. Sometimes I like going third person. Now back to Dave and Kev’s Great Adventure.
I know everyone wants to hear the results of the scan, but that would put us too far ahead of what happened on the trip. So calm down and have a bowl of ice cream. Dr.Camden’s orders.
Now picture this, Dave and I are now on the airplane.
While on the plane, I have my phone on airplane mode. At least, I think I do. Let me ask the person next to me how to do that.
Do you have to put your phone on airplane mode? Just asking.
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, I don’t know when I’ll be back again.
Okay, that is not entirely true. We were flying out on a Thursday. It is a four-game series ending on Sunday. We have tickets to the first three games. We fly back Sunday.
So when we landed in San Francisco, what do you think was the first thing we did?
Yes, we checked into the hotel. I am talking about after the hotel. The fun stuff.
Oh, by the way, the hotel was not even a block from the stadium.
(Good job Kev…Third person)
Well, the first thing we did was go to the ball game. We landed just a few hours before the first game started. Did not miss the first pitch.
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We made it.
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We went to the game and cheered on a Cards win. Made friends while there.
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We sat next to a man and his father. The son currently lives and works in the St. Louis area. He is from San Francisco. He and his father have season tickets to the Giants games. He flew from St. Louis to see the series. He was a Giants fan. I worked on him, but he was still a Giants fan when we left.
We left with the taste of victory. We did not rub it in.
I did not play; We Are The Champions on my phone as I usually do when I win a game of cards or beat Camden and Adalie in a game of Sorry. Sorry, not Sorry.
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Game one. We Won.
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The fans there were very nice. We had a great evening. We appreciated their hospitality as much as the Cards appreciated those fastballs down the middle.
We were gracious winners. Also, Camden, we were outnumbered.
A man has got to pay attention to his surroundings and present situation.
Be gracious unless you just beat KU. I am sure your parents will tell you to ignore that one.
After celebrating the victory, we returned to our very close hotel.
The next morning my oncologist’s office called.
The nurse on the phone had the results. She would not tell me anything on the phone. She reminded me that I had an appointment with the doctor in a few days. The doctor would then talk to me about the scan results.
She would fax the scan results to my hotel. I gave her the fax number and notified the front desk. I later went down to the desk and picked up the report.
The scan confirmed that Brutus had metastasized into my bones. The area where I had been complaining of pain is where Brutus was located.
At least now I knew that I was not crazy. That made me happy, but the happiness was short-lived.
I knew that now I would have to return to treatments. I could no longer say no and tell myself I would be okay. I knew before the scan that I would need to go back on the poison, but one can hope.
This was bad news. Not insurmountable. But bad.
It is what it is.
Another random thought Camden. A teaching moment. So to speak.
My Physical Therapist Jacqueline told me one day that the “It is what it is” statement was just a polite way of saying….”Shit Happens!”
She then asked me if the exercise I was doing hurt. Hell, yes, Jacqueline!
Jacqueline let me know that sometimes when you jump out of airplanes…Shit Happens. She is sooo right.
Now back to San Francisco.
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Exploring
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I would read the report and then put it away. Later I would take the report out and again put it away. I am not sure how many times I did this. Maybe I was hoping that something would change. Maybe I was trying to make sense of…Shit Happens.
Dave asked me about the report sometime over the next few days. I told him. He said that did not sound good. I agreed but added that it was going to be okay.
I tell people that I am okay.
I tell people that I am going to be okay.
The truth is…those statements are false.
I am not okay. I will not be okay. I will not be better. I need a cure.
Without a cure…well all we can hope for is to manage Brutus better. To slow his progression. To ease the pain.
I do not think anyone knows what the best treatment protocol for me is at this time. My doctors and all the other doctors in the world are very bright people, but you know they all practice medicine.
I do not know. My doctors do not know.
If my medical team or I only knew what was going to work. If we only knew how my body and Brutus would react to different treatments.
If I only knew what was coming.
To see the future would, of course, help everyone do everything. No one knows the future.
Unless you are a catcher.
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More Exploring. Lost? Maybe.
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Have I mentioned to you Camden that I was once a catcher?
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Young Kevin
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Let’s go back to when I was eight years old.
The only thing I remember about being eight was playing baseball.
Girls were not yet in the picture. That was when I was nine. When I started driving.
Anyway, when I was eight and had graduated from the second grade, we moved to the metropolis called Wellsville. Population…hell, I do not know. It was under 1000. BR549 country.
I knew no one. I had not been in town long, so I signed up to play baseball. You know, that see-the-world thing. Or at least the DQs in a few neighboring towns.
When we met for our first team practice, the Manager, Don Poole, went over each position and asked who would like to play that position.
When he asked who wanted to be the team catcher, no one spoke up.
That is when I stood up, puffed out my chest, and said I would be the team leader. I would put on the so-called tools of ignorance and lead this team to victory after victory.
Okay, Okay, it did not quite go like that. But I was thinking…
My thoughts were, hey; you are the new kid. No one knows you. If I wanted to play every game, this was my chance. If no one else wanted to catch, then I would get to play. I would wear the tools of ignorance.
That is how it happened. I was not a first-round pick, so to speak.
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Unlost just in time for game 2.
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I was a catcher for the next ten years. Through small-town summer ball, high school, and American Legion.
Well, I caught American Legion when they let me. When Randy was pitching, I was the catcher.
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18 year old Kevin. Of course the guy was out.
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I was his Yadier Molina, and he was my Adam Wainwright. I do think Randy’s fastball was better. Just saying. Sorry, Wano.
Okay, let me further explain Camden.
Randy was one of the best pitchers I have ever seen or caught.
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Perfect Game!!Most games…unhittable.
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He could hit as well. He was Shohei Ohtani before Ohtani was born.
I guess the manager of the Legion team figured that I knew him better, so they asked me to tag along to be his catcher.
Catching Randy over the years, I noticed a few things.
His pitches overmatched the hitters. They could not compete. I felt bad for them.
He could throw that speedball by ya. Make you look like a fool.
My inner Springsteen. Yes, those were Glory Days.
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Glory Days
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Game two. The Cards score in the top of the ninth and win 3-2. Fun time.
This family sat in front of us. So I did what I do. I started a conversation.
Mom and dad are from the St. Louis area and grew up Cardinals fans. They moved to San Francisco in 2014. The oldest daughter was born in St. Louis. The youngest is a California girl but is being raised right. Roots run deep.
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I started talking to the hitters. Beyond my full repertoire of chants on how bad the hitter was, we did have some casual conversation.
I might have asked if that was their sister sitting along the third baseline and if she would go out with me. Hell, I knew she would. We were all Bad Asses.
I did not tell them that if my dog was as ugly as them that I would shave his butt and make him walk backward. No, I did none of that.
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Did not see any dogs walking backward while exploring.
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Depending on the hitter, sometimes I tried to build up their confidence. I told them that they could hit Randy. They just needed to believe. Hahaha
Hell, when that did not work, I told them what pitch was coming and what area it would be thrown. Yes, yes, I did.
Randy had more pitches than I had fingers. So we would have to decide which pitches he would throw before each game. We usually used the following.
We had the curve that he threw at the hitter, but in the last second would break over the plate for a strike. I liked that one.
We had the curve thrown down the middle of the plate that said hit me. At the last second, it would break out of the strike zone. The hitter would then have to pick himself up from swinging and missing. I liked that one.
We had the drop ball. Or was it a splitter? Or was it a 12 to 6 curve? Hell, I do not remember, but I liked it.
Of course, he had the two-seam and four-seam fastballs with pinpoint control. I liked that one, and I liked that one.
I would tell the batter. Hey, he is going to throw a curve ball right at you. Now do not worry; it will not hit you. It will break over the plate. Now hit it.
It never failed. Each kid seeing that ball coming right toward them, bailed out. The ball then broke over the plate for a strike. I laughed my ass off.
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Dave…why are we the only people walking up this hill? (I was not laughing.)
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I never lied to a hitter. When I shared info, I always told them the pitch and location.
Can you believe that one day a batter asked the umpire to tell me to shut up?
Do not answer that question.
Would you believe that the umpire then told me to shut up?
That is how he said it. He told me to….”Shut Up!” We were on the road.
Geez! I was just having a friendly conversation.
Here is the rest of that story. No one ever got a hit from me telling them what was coming. Thank God.
Randy was big. I was small.
If someone had gotten a hold of a pitch and Randy found out I told him what was coming, he might have been pissed. I do not remember if I told Randy I was giving his pitches away. Well, now I have.
Now I was a little selective. I did not tell every hitter what was coming. Most, yes, most.
No harm…no foul.
That brings me back to today.
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I fought as hard as I could, but game 3, we lost. These guys beat me with kindness.
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You see, there is harm in all my treatment options. I do not know if they will work and if they work, I do not know how long they will work. I do not know which is best. I do not know which side effects I will experience.
A few days after arriving home from California, I will meet with my oncologist to discuss a game plan.
We have faced team Brutus before. Doc has dealt with him more than I have.
We will go over which members of the Brutus team cannot hit the curve. Or lay off the high fastball.
We will have gone over the data to provide me with the best care. The best quality of life.
In my mind, when the day finally arrives, it will go something like this.
I will give the sign of the treatment to be administered. The Doc cannot shake me off.
I will not tell Brutus what is coming. He is far too strong of an opponent. He will then swing and miss. Just like missing a Randy curve.
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Camden, it is time to head home. Our exploring is done. We won 2 out of the 3 games we saw. Now don’t be sad, Camden, because I once heard someone say two out of three ain’t bad. With that it is definitly time to get on the plane.
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That is how I see it. Time will tell if my vision becomes a reality.
Those are my thoughts, Camden. Talking baseball might be an easier way to help you understand my situation. If not, your dad will explain the baseball. Today I would rather not use medical terms and names for drugs I cannot spell.
I believe we will have more games to watch together. We might even hear the umpire yell out the two words I yelled to Brutus.
No, not those two words. You have been listening to your mother too much. These two words…
BATTER UP!
Love,
Papa
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Camden, when I first started to catch Gerald was our pitcher. He later handed the ball off to his brother…Randy. My hand still stings from catching both. Or is that arthritis. HAHAHA!
I used to like to walk the straight and narrow line I used to think that everything was fine
All alone and trapped in time All alone and trapped in time
Sometimes I’d sit and gaze for days through sleepless dreams
Well, hello, there, Camden. You startled me. Let me turn down the music.
Say what. Oh, you want to know what I was listening to.
Let me tell you, Camden, I was listening to the World’s Greatest Band…Styx!!
Now some people will tell you that Styx is not the Greatest Band. They might be right. Once upon a time, there was a group called the Beatles. I heard Yoko Ono exterminated them. That might not be a fair/accurate statement, but some people.
Anyway, Camden, if you want to win “Dead Man Trivia,” Styx is the answer that the judges should accept.
I do wish Tommy Shaw and Dennis DeYoung could work out their problems. Maybe they should call Saul. No, not Yoko…Saul. I would love for the band to get back together. I would go to that concert.
But, I guess we all have problems, Camden. Yes, I have a few.
I keep thinking that things will get better. That my timeline will be extended. Well, that has not happened, and things have gotten worse.
I try to stay positive in the face of terrible news, but it has been challenging. That lack of positive information has kept me from writing an update. No one wants to hear a woe is Kevin story.
One positive thing that has happened in the past year and a half is that I am finally off the opioids. They have finally found a drug combo that has helped me with pain. A very high daily dose of Gabapentin along with a muscle relaxer helps. I am not pain-free but can function.
They did not like me using opioids at work—something about driving and carrying a gun.
I went out by myself to an interview at a school one day. One of the interstates was the fastest way to get there. So off I went.
I got a call from a co-worker while I was driving telling me to be careful because it was reported that someone was going the wrong way on the interstate.
I told them that it was not just one person going the wrong way. From what I could see, dozens and dozens of drivers were all going the wrong way.
They would not let me go out on my own after that.
Okay, maybe that is not entirely true, but they no longer let me drive a city vehicle before I retired, and most of my duties were limited to the office.
I drove my own car from time to time, but when you hit about 40 mph, the wind negates you sticking your head out the window making siren sounds. Oh well.
Yes, I retired. More about that another time. So that is the positive news.
The bad news is that Brutus has been growing faster and faster. My doubling time is now 2.4 months. Not a doubling time that is conducive to a long life.
My doctors keep asking me to go back on the poisons. I keep saying no.
My urologist sarcastically asked me: “Are you going to wait until you have tumors all over your body?!”
I think he was being sarcastic.
That might not be word for word what he said, but it is what he meant.
He asked a valid question.
I do want to live. We might have a different idea of the meaning of living.
Hold on, Camden, let me turn up the music for a moment.
I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me Or am I even in it’s mind at all Perhaps I’ll get a chance to look ahead and see Soon as I find myself a crystal ball Soon as I find myself a crystal ball
Hey, that is what I need. A Crystal Ball.
I need a crystal ball to tell me if the treatments I am being asked to do will help with my goal of seeing more tomorrows.
Tell me, tell me where I’m going I don’t know where I’ve been Tell me, tell me, won’t you tell me And then tell me again My heart is breaking, my body’s aching And I don’t know where to go Tell me, tell me, won’t you tell me I’ve just got to know
Camden, the doctors don’t know the answer to many questions. They cannot tell me what would be the best treatments, but they often have a preference.
They know the research.
They know the theory.
Patients know the reality. Patients live that reality.
Often the theory and reality clash. That usually adversely affects your quality of life.
What the patient wants to have is the best quality of life possible.
I have found that my quality of life suffers both on and off treatments. Each way, you do not feel well, but they are different. I guess that is just cancer. Duhhhh. I figured that out right now. I am brilliant.
When off treatments, I feel more pain. When on treatments, I feel sick.
Each is a trade-off on what you can do. I find that I can better handle the pain. At least with the proper medication. It is getting more difficult. Eventually, the pain and sickness will go together.
So I know I have to go back on treatments very soon. That doubling time is too fast to ignore. I have one more delay tactic.
I asked that we wait until after my scan before starting the poisons.
It is once again time for scans in May.
I have been following info on a new scan that had not yet been FDA-approved for the past year or so. The PSMA PET CT-Scan. The new best thing. This scan might be worth the hype.
Prostate-Specific Membrane Antigen is a scan explicitly developed for prostate cancer. Clinical trials found the scan to be much more accurate than other scans used to detect prostate cancer, and they found that the scan can identify the cancer cells when they are tiny. The other available scans cannot find the smaller cancer cells most of the time.
When prostate cancer has metastasized, patients often hear that their disease is incurable. The goal is to slow down the disease and give the patient the best quality of life possible. That is where I currently find myself.
I have watched videos and read articles where doctors have used the word “Cure” when discussing the PSMA scan.
My understanding is that with this scan, prostate cancer that was thought to be incurable in the past might be curable.
Even if still not curable, I feel that this scan gives you the best ability to come up with a treatment plan that might be able to extend your life. It will give the patient options he might not have had before this scan was developed and approved.
At least, that is my hope.
Drugs come out, but I never get my hopes up for the latest drug.
Often they are just a slight variation of some other drug out there. A drug that might be coming off patent. So the Pharmaceutical Industrial Complex will develop this new and improved drug to take the place of the now generic drug so they can continue to charge you tens of thousands of dollars a month even though it might not be any better than the now fifty-dollar generic.
Camden, that is how I see it. I could be wrong. Lean a little closer; I want to whisper in your ear….”I don’t think so.”
This scan is different and has honestly gotten me excited about what the medical community might be able to do for me.
I had learned that the only place currently offering the scan in Kansas is at KU Medical Center in Kansas City.
So when I spoke to my urologist about the scan at KU, he talked to me about the cost and the possibility that my insurance company probably would not pay for the scan since it was so recently FDA approved. Insurance companies like to drag their feet and deny, deny, deny coverage.
The Insurance Industrial Complex is there to ensure profits for shareholders. NOT to ensure your health. Once again, just my opinion.
So I left my urologist’s office a little depressed that I would not be getting the new and improved scan.
Later I got to thinking. Just how much does that scan cost. So I called KU Med Center.
That much, huh. If I sold my plasma for several years, I could get my money back. Fifty years later, give or take a decade.
They gave me a ballpark figure of my cost if insurance did not pay for the scan.
That did not seem that bad. In the cancer world, the price quoted to me was a bargain for what benefit it might provide.
Anyway, the scan would not cost as much as most of my other treatments and surgeries. I had another cancer surgery a few months ago, and the hospital bill was over $100,000. Insurance did pay for that. Did I tell you how much I love my insurance company? We are working on our relationship.
Let me look in the checkbook. Damn!!
After checking the couches in the living room, Man Cave (basement), upstairs office where I am sitting and typing at my desk, I might have a down payment.
I also found some gum, two dog bones, and one Paw Patrol Character. Not sure who he is, but he is here to save the day.
My next stop is my oncologist.
The doctor said: Blah, blah, blah…Kevin, I am concerned with your doubling time. It would help if you went on treatments.
Kevin said: “No.”
But it was a polite “No.” I also told him that I understood that I would have to go back on the poison.
I just let him know that I was going to KC to watch the Cards and Royals, and then I was getting on a plane to go to San Francisco to explore the area and, of course, watch the Giants get spanked by the Cards. I wanted to wait until after that.
I also told him that I wanted him to call KU Med Center and order the PSMA PET CT-Scan. I told him that I had talked with some lovely people at KU Med and that if insurance would not pay, I would. He reminded me that I owed him money. Doc, the check is in the mail. (okay, maybe he did not say that, but I chuckled)
We agreed to meet again after the scan to decide what comes next. Of course, the answer is Ice Cream. I think ice cream would help. Chemo bad. Ice cream good.
When we meet, I will listen to his recommendations. I will.
Boy, I am getting tired of this whole thing.
Today is May 1st, and it is late in the evening. Camden, I am no longer writing this prose at my desk. I am sitting at your kitchen table typing right now. Yes, just a few paragraphs ago, I was at my desk. Now I am at your table. I drive fast. See you in the morning.
Camden, here is my schedule for the next few days.
Monday, I will be with Adalie at Kidz Zone. Sorry, you will not be able to make it will school and all. We will have the evening.
On Tuesday, I have my scan. Tuesday night, I will watch the Cards/Royals with Ron and Dave.
On Wednesday, Camden, I will take you and your family to the Cards/Royals.
On Thursday, I fly to San Francisco.
While there, I expect a call from my oncologist with the scan results. Hopefully, I will not feel like jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. But if I did, I would wear a parachute.
Once I return, I am going on treatment. Yes, I will. Honest.
I have done much better than my medical team thought I would in the last few years.
Now it is time for a new and different path than I have been taking.
Perhaps this new scan will answer some of the questions I need to know.
Crystal ball
There’s so many things I need to know Crystal ball There’s so many things I’ve got to know Crystal ball
Tell me please before I go
Crystal ball
Maybe the PSMA PET CT-Scan can be…My Crystal Ball.
Camden, fall is my favorite time of year. October is my favorite month. The leaves start to turn, and temperatures start to drop. You can enjoy the outdoors without sweating your ass off.
Another reason is that October is my birth month. I am getting older, but I am not getting old. The best is yet to come.
Even more important is that in October you have the baseball playoffs, college football and professional football all going on at the same time. The Cards are normally in the mix of the playoffs. We are spoiled fans.
I almost forgot that my St. Louis friends also have hockey. I tend to forget about hockey.
Camden let’s get back to baseball for a moment. A sport born in America. Not Canada. Just saying. Before the wildcard game I bought tickets for the playoff series against the Giants. I was confident I would be extending my vacation. Well it did not work out. Next year is our year Camden. Yes, next year. Stub Hub owes me money so I will look into Opening Day 2022 tickets. Never been to Opening Day. That is something I need to do.
Anyway October will soon be over so I figured that I better get these photos out before I had to change the title.
I try to make the Tiger’s Homecoming game each year. Here are a few photos. Okay, more than a few. Sorry, Memory Maker had a mind of its own.
Camden let’s start with a little history. I once had a family of little Tigers. Here they are on the 26th of October 2002. For Homecoming that year we played the school that we shall not name. We kicked their ass. We should play them every Homecoming.
Camden here is the gang of 2021. Not everyone was able to make it this year. Now next year I expect more people. It was pointed out to me that 2022 will mark 40 years since graduation. Hope to see everyone at the Homecoming
Tailgate /Class Reunion.
A gift from Amy. Did I mention that October was my birth month.
Here you go Amy
Okay, I will try to get back on the Homecoming track.
Camden I have been making it back to Homecoming for…well a long time.
A few years ago I decided to make a week of it and spend time exploring my Homeland and seeing friends.
When I decided to do this I told a friend of my plan. My friend also happened to be my therapist. He asked me if I considered what I was going to do as my farewell tour.
I laughed and told him no that was not the case at all. I was a long way from having a farewell tour. I told him that it was more of a Get Reacquainted With Kev Tour. It would allow me to reconnect with friends. Just in case.
Camden I want to take you through part of this year’s trip. I am going to save my visit to my hometown for another day. It needs a post all its own. Over the years I have written that essay over and over. It is just not ready. Someday it will happen.
Let’s start with Thursday. Why Thursday? Well that is the day I took a walk around the university. Here we go.
I found this troubled youth the day after the wildcard game. He was sitting on a bench near the Quad. I asked if he knew where he was. He told me that he wanted to gloat for just one day. I wished him luck surviving the day.
Camden, Middlebush is where the business school was located when I was in college. It was where I had many of my classes. I would hangout just inside these doors. The business school no longer calls this building home. I went inside to look around. While hanging out beneath where the clock was once located a guy asked me to sign his notebook. He looked a little pale and was actually as white as a sheet. As he floated away I asked him his name. He said: Harry…Harry Hartel. He then disappeared. Could Middlebush be haunted? Well, it is October.
This is the current business school. I do not think I could walk into this building hung over. I would have to consider changing my major. I am getting a little dizzy just taking this picture, and I have not been drinking. Maybe.
After walking out of the business school I headed toward the bookstore. I have not been there in a few years. My visits are normally expensive.
On the way to the bookstore I took a picture. It seemed like a Kodak moment. Maybe next time that tent will not be there.
Once in the bookstore I took this picture. I thought what if I could get someone to turn the lights off behind the Tiger. So I asked. That was a mistake.
The lady listened to me. Then she asked who I worked for, and she wanted to know what I was going to do with the pictures I had taken. She asked to see my credentials.
She added that no one was allowed to take pictures inside the bookstore without getting permission and credentials. Credentials? We don’t need no stinking credentials. (Very old Mel Brooks reference)
Then I realized that this lady must think that I am a professional. I guess I should have used my iPhone. It actually does a decent job most of the time.
I tried to explain that I was just an alum in town for Homecoming. It was “Homecoming Week” I told her. She asked me to stop taking pictures.
I told her not to worry that I did not even have any film in the camera. Okay, maybe I did not think of that at the time. I wish I had. That would have been funny.
Or I should have told her that I was with Sports Illustrated and that I was in town to shoot the football game. After the game I would be on my way to an exotic location to shoot the next Swimsuit Addition. Hey, a guy can dream. Well, I did not think of that either.
So what did I do when she asked me to stop taking pictures. Well…
I took this photo. Then I got the hell out of there.
So Camden a couple of firsts happened to me on this visit to the bookstore. Number one is that I did not make a purchase. I always make a purchase. If nothing else I buy you something. That lady saved me some money.
The other first was that I got kicked out of the bookstore. Sort of, I guess. Well that is my story.
I was not going to wait around for someone to show up with handcuffs and give me an Honorary Degree in Stupidity. Or maybe they would just give me a sign.
You can bet that next year I will show up with credentials. As well as a good cover story. I hope I can find that same lady. I would like to tell her about my career with Sports Illustrated.
After leaving the bookstore I headed over to 9th Street to see how the students had decorated the windows of the downtown businesses.
The Heidelberg. Interesting story about the Heidelberg Camden. It is the only bar where I have ever gotten sick my entire life. I was nineteen. I did make it to the bathroom. That gross piece of information might become helpful when playing Dead Man Trivia.
The artistsOh yes, the great philosopher Ricky Bobby. Or his dad. I guess you had to see the movie.
Have several more pictures, but this cannot go on forever so moving on.
Had dinner with my friend Vicki Thursday evening. Had not seen her in a couple of years. It was nice to catch up. Of course after dinner we went out for ice cream.
What did I do on Friday?
Spent the day with Mom, my brother Keith, and Uncle Jimmie in Mexico. The city not the country.
Friday night went back to campus to see the decorations and skits in Greek Town. Not as many people there as in the past. Damn Covid.
I had to include this. Amy was a Chi O at the school that shall not be named. My Nieces Megan and Melanie were Chi Omega’s at MIZZOU. Love my Nieces to pieces. You too Amy.
I could not stay at the Chi O house long. Had to get over to the Tri Sigma Sorority. My Niece Allison is a Freshman at MIZZOU this year and pledging Tri Sigma. Had to see the show.
Tri Sigma
Allison was Truman.
Somewhere in Greek town
As the evening wound down I headed over to Shakespeare’s to meet up with Dave. I cut through the Quad. Yes I stayed off the grass. I took a picture.
Camden, they told us that we had an hour wait to be seated at Shakespeare’s. So we went to Las Margaritas and had drinks. Dave called Shakespeare’s and ordered carryout. Pizza was ready in 20 minutes. Went to Shakespeare’s got our order and found an empty table. An hour wait my ass. We then called it a night. We are older. Also wiser. Maybe.
Camden when you are in Columbia checking out the university you have to eat at Shakespeare’s. The one on 9th street. Be sure to stop at Sparky’s for dessert. The Heidelberg is also a good place to eat and drink. You can skip getting sick in the restroom. Please.
It is now Saturday. Homecoming 2021. I needed to get up early to grab a parking spot for the parade. I did not. Damn!
So I did not make the parade this year. I was sent this picture. I wonder why. Remember, my Kansas friends, that I did not take the picture. (I wish I had.)
Off to our tailgate location. Camden these are my friends from college. You saw the group picture earlier. I have known these good people for over forty years. One of them I have known much longer. I have known Dave since fourth grade. We have many stories. I am still collecting money from him to keep me from telling his daughters some of those stories. He bought the pizza.
Let me show you some pictures.
Here we have Leslie and Julie. Two of my favorite people that I have known my entire adult life. Which means I have known them for almost six months.Julie needing tech help from her daughter Caroline. “Can you help me find that Snap Shit app Kevin talks about?”Caroline, Tammy, or Julie have any of you seen Dave. No we have not. We have just been enjoying our conversation. It has been nice and quiet. Have not seen him. Caroline maybe you need to find your dad.Steve, Tammy, and Kevin
Steve and Kevin are responsible for organizing the tailgate and Kevin gets everyone tickets. Could not happen without them. They have not seen Dave.
Camden here are my friends Nanci and Ron.
Ron and I lived together for two years in college. One semester he borrowed one of my upper-level economics textbooks. At the end of the semester he sold my book back to the bookstore. He was a true capitalist. Buy low (or borrow) sell high.
Nanci and I never lived together.
Camden this is Natalie. She is Dave’s fourth and youngest daughter. I asked her if she had seen her dad. She had not. She did not seem to be upset about her dad being missing. I do not think she gets upset over anything. Very bubbly personality. I have known her since she was a baby. For a few years she and her family lived two blocks from me in Wichita.
Many Saturdays I would go out for a run and I would end up at her house. Dave would give me a beer and we watched football. After a beer or two or three I figured my run should be over by now so it was time to head home. I did not win any races that year.
Leslie and Kevin found Dave. He said that he had been here the entire time. Well except when the game started. He went to the game.
That must be why I could not find him. I did not go to the game. Stayed at the tailgate having fun visiting with Nanci.
Well the game is over and we won. Not sure we will win another game this year. Just not looking good.
The delicious food has been eaten and the area has been picked up. Tents taken down the coolers are empty. Dave has been found.
Natalie reacting to the news that her dad had been found. He is buying dinner.
Camden, one year, maybe next year I can take you to Homecoming. I will have a talk with your parents.
Nanci stayed with me at our tailgate location. Thank you Nanci. I found comfort in your company.
Camden I had to deal with a bout of discomfort while with my friends. I am still trying to recover from my latest surgery. This one was difficult. I was unable to go to the game. I guess I could have, but I would have been miserable. I try not to let people see me when I feel that way. It has gotten more difficult to hide. Social media as we all know can be deceiving. People have not nor most likely will they ever see pictures when I am not well.
These are a few of my friends Camden. They are the best.
Well my Uber has arrived which means that it is time to leave. I will see you next week. I think we are going to stop somewhere and get a cat out of a tree.
Dear Camden 