The Ledge

Doctor: “You have a Sarcoma.”

Me: “Is that cancer?”

Doctor: “Yes.”

 Let’s go back a bit…

3 weeks ago. I have a nagging pain in the right side of my back. nothing out of the ordinary, we all get aches and pains. I chalked it up to something I must have strained or pulled. Five days later, it’s still nagging me. I make an appointment with my doctor, but he can’t see me until the following week. By the time the visit rolls around, the pain is gone, but I needed a physical anyway. We talk about my gaining some weight recently, and his concern that I might develop Diabetes. I mention the pain in my side, he asks a few questions, and says it may be Kidney Stones. He sends me for a blood test to check my sugar levels, and the usual stuff. That was a Wednesday.

That Saturday I go to the office to have the blood taken, no big deal. The following Tuesday, I wake up, eat breakfast, but feel kind of queasy. I head out to work, figuring I’ll just power through it and get home and take it easy. I was battling moderate to severe stomach pain the whole day, along with the back pain mentioned before. I got through work (barely), and made it home, not having ate the whole day (if you know me, then something must be wrong).

Fast forward to 7:30 p.m. that night-my wife suggests that we go to the Emergency Room if I’m in that much pain. We go Dobbs Ferry Hospital. I get a CAT scan, and the doctor on duty is puzzled. It seems that I have an infection in the muscles in or around my back. They can blast it out with Antibiotics, but I need to be admitted. Around midnight, I get a room, and go to sleep.

The next morning, a surgeon comes into my room and tells me that I’m going to get an MRI. A surgeon is called in on the case just in the event that there is some issue, they are in the loop at the beginning, not having to catch up on what is going on. Fair enough. I’m taken to St. Johns in Yonkers for an MRI. I come back and eat lunch.

A little bit later, an associate of the surgeon I saw in the a.m. comes in, closes the door to my room, and sits down. Go back to the top two lines of the post. He told me that I have a Sarcoma, which is a type of cancer that affects less than 2% of the population. I asked him how I got it.

He said “You won the Lottery.”

There’s a less than 1% chance it’s not cancerous. Great.

My wife is a wreck. I have no reaction.

He details that in order to get the Sarcoma, they wil probably have to reroute some internals, and maybe remove a Kidney. He says that they need to Biopsy it to get a look at it, and get more info about it. He leaves.

I have no reaction. I’m not angry, or scared. I’m not saying that out of some type of bravado, that’s just the way it was. Suddenly, the prospect of my mortality (or lack of it) was pushed to the forefront of mine and my families life. Everybody that I told (not too many people) were justifiably upset, but I still had no overriding feelings of fear or sadness, I was more worried about my wife, and how she would handle this. It’s not easy to call your friends or tell your family something like this. “Hey guess what happened to me today” is that how you tell someone? I called my boss, and a few friends and family members, and just put it out there, as blunt as possible. That was the only way I could do it, although it can’t be easy for someone to hear it that way.

So Friday rolls around, and they stick a needle in my back, get their sample, and tell me to come back the next Thursday (today). I get out of the Hospital, and try to  prepare myself for the worst news possible, since anything less would theoretically be better. I run through all types of scenarios in my head, my death, how long would I live, stuff like that. Just prepping myself for what I knew was coming.

Monday I go back to work, full steam ahead. Through my wife, we find out that there is a Sarcoma unit in Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in the city. A friend of ours knows the Sarcoma doctor, and we get my records to him. He says it’s bad, but not a death sentence. Good news, I suppose. We start to make plans for him to take over, since it’s his specialty. He wants a new CAT scan, with some dye injected into me, to see things a bit clearer. We make the appointment.

Jump to today. We have the appointment with the Doctor from Dobbs Ferry Hospital, and he has the Biopsy results. This is it. I know what’s coming. I hear the Doctor a few feet up the hall asking for my charts, and they can’t find them.

Great.

We go into his office, and wait a bit. He finally comes in, sits down, and literally says two words:

“Not Cancer.”

“What?”

“It’s not Cancer.”

My wife has the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. The Doctor said that when he met her, he thought she was always sad. He was wrong.

I have no reaction. Nothing up until this point has surprised me. Again, not bravado, just acceptance. It is a benign tumor that still needs to be removed, but the death sentence is commuted.

All is right in the world again. Now to make a new round of phone calls. “Hey guess what? I, in fact, don’t have Cancer.” I feel worse for the people put through this roller coaster of emotions, but this is a good phone call to make.

My mother said that all the people praying for me is what turned things around. My wife says everything happens for a reason. I say that everything is totally random.

I guess I did win the Lottery, like the Doctor said.

Milica Sekulik

I was listening to a technology podcast recently, and the host was mentioning about how owning a computer ends up being more that just the cost of the P.C.. I found that idea pretty interesting, and it got me thinking of how much it costs me to “live” now as opposed to, let’s say 1983.

1983:

Rent or Mortgage, Food, Phone, Car and Insurance

That’s about it for monthly recurring bills.

2009:

Rent or Mortgage, Food, Phone, Car and Insurance, Cell Phone,

Cable, Internet, Satellite Radio, Gym membership, Xbox Live account

Wow. That’s alot. Now granted, all these things are not “necessities” per se, but they do seem important. Could I live without a Satellite radio? Yes, and I am giving it up. Cell phone? Not so easy. I almost shudder to think that there was a time that I could not be reached in the event of an emergency if I was not at home.

Was it better back then? Is it really that important that I be constantly connected with the outside world? What have I given up in exchange? It’s weird, but sometimes ignorance really is bliss, as they say. What if I gave up the internet bill? I can’t, I need it for my job, and besides, it might force me to pick up a book or actually go outside.

Technology has allowed me to connect with old friends, and have access to almost anything I could want to know or learn about, but in the end, it’s me sitting in front of a monitor at midnight, alone. Sometimes it feels like I’m seeing the whole world through a one-way mirror. You’re exposed to so much more, but it’s still a solitary experience.

Time for bed.

katmere

It’s funny. Pretty much everything in our life leads back to one thing: money. We need it, plain and simple. Those little pieces of paper and metal circles have so much meaning in our existence that it can easily become something that you can spend most of your time worrying about.

So how does this fit in with your life decisions? Do you make choices based on it?

When I was early on in my work career, I felt the need to have a job that made “money”. I had no post high school education to speak of, and I had no aspirations of being a doctor, lawyer, or any of those high-income positions. So where to go? Construction? Nah-didn’t feel like cutting wood for a living. Police? Might get shot-forget it. Sanitation? There’s a thought. They get their job done, and then they get to hang out (or so I’ve been told). Forget it. The smell. Letter Carrier? That’s it!! My uncle was one, my brother was one, why not me?

Sounded good.

I  signed up for the civil service exam. I bought the study book with sample tests, and really took it seriously. I was ready.Test day came and went. Then I got the results.92%.

Wow. Pretty damn good.

Now I just have to wait for the offers to come rolling in. I got one. Yonkers, New York. Not the best place to be walking around without any protection. I need a job that makes “money”. I go to the interview. The postmaster likes me, and I say the things he wants to hear. I’m in. I make it through the “academy”, get the blue uniform, and show up at the post office. The pay was pretty good for a starting salary, and there’s a union, so it looks like I’m set. I show up on time, I work fast, and I don’t complain. The supervisors like me, and I get some decent areas to deliver to. Sounds good, right?

Wrong.

Yes, I did whatever they wanted, I worked fast and efficiently. The job was easy, and the pay was good. Over time, I started to notice the people around me. My “co-workers”. They were unhappy people. They “hated” their bosses, they openly cursed at them, some were drinking on the job, and some were hunched over. I started to consider that if I stayed, I would have a better than average chance at turning out to be like one of the examples above. But the money was good. I was off on Sundays. I was getting bills paid.I couldn’t stay. I could rationalize that the money that I would potentially be making would be worth it. The cost was too high.I told my boss I was giving my two week notice. his jaw dropped. I guess people don’t leave the post office. At that point, I decided (as far as my career was concerned) that any choices I would make would not include money as the first (or even second) consideration.

You can’t put a price on your peace of mind.

Simple enough. But is it? Who are you? Who do you consider yourself to be? Who do other people think you are?

Is Spider-Man Peter Parker’s secret identity, or is Peter Parker Spider-Man’s?
See what I mean?
The true answer is a little tougher. You are many things to different people. But, you are also what you say you are. When people ask “What do you do?”, the answer I give is telling them who I am, but it’s too short. I’m more. I’m not my job. But I am.

Who are you?