A Look Back and the View Ahead

A Look Back

To be blunt, 2010 was quite a year at our house. What started as our usual fun trip to Florida developed into our own personal odyssey that we hope is not soon, if ever, repeated. I will not rehash all that happened here but a couple of observations are in order. Over the holidays we have had many visits with loved ones, and it is clear that, for me, I lived May and June pretty much in a drug-induced fog or coma. People will mention things, and I vaguely at best have some idea what they are talking about. All I can say is that I am glad 2010 is over and that it ended on a very positive note health wise.

Diane and I ended the year with a bang. Clean bill of health on November 29th, precancerous face treatment on December 1st, PEG removed on the 3rd, a great week in Chicago December 7-13 visiting family and friends, and finally a visit with the grandsons, Jennifer and John in Texas December 14-22. It is good to be back home, but it was exciting.

As I assess 2010 and the state of my health, I need to be honest with myself. I am better, much better, but I am not 100% nor will I ever be. I need to get my hands around this "new normal." I am walking an hour everyday and lately have even done so outside bundled up quite well. BUT, I still have an occasional choking episode--nothing too dramatic, just a quick exit from the table while I expectorate to clear my throat passage--more embarrassing than anything else. The salivary gland issue is a pain but is what it is and is endurable. My major complaint or issue is the taste buds. Imagine eating EVERY meal, and it is never pleasurable. I get it done but can't taste much and have to gulp lots of water to simply get the food down to where it needs to go. I can taste a little but not like the old days and it is frustrating and frankly a bit depressing. I'm told by my sponsors, Don Patterson and Maury Coats, that it will get better over time but yes, I'm a little impatient.

Also, it's the little things that get my attention. I get pain in the back of my head at the end of the day, have an occasional nasty bloody nose, don't feel like jogging or doing some of the high energy things I used to take for granted. My guess is, this is all part of the deal that comes with poisoning your body with chemo and radiation while killing the cancer so I am not surprised, just wondering what part of all this is cancer related and what part is being almost age 65. It has only been 7 months since treatment stopped and I'm told, "give it a year" so I will dutifully acknowledge that reality and reserve lamenting this part of recovery until June 10, 2011. All in all, 2010 an interesting year for the Taylor family but I am clearly ready to have the focus off me and on brighter topics in 2011.

The View Ahead

I am confident that 2011 will be not a good, but an excellent year as my recovery progresses. I have made ONE major decision and believe it is in my best interest but know it will disappoint some of our Florida friends. While taking a long walk along the waterfront in Corpus Christi a couple of weeks ago, it dawned on me that two months traveling to, staying in and returning from Florida to Macomb driving 3000 miles might not be the ticket to good health for Gordy Taylor in 2011. There is a certain comfort to my "routine" at 35 Indian Trail and the stability it brings me. Short trips are fine but for now, I don't think I'm ready for the "long haul." Consequently, we have decided to "stay put" for the next couple of months with the exception of a return trip to Texas by Diane in January and a possibly brief visit to Chicago in February.

I will keep busy with Across the Miles and visits to the Spencer Rec Center on campus to walk and attempt to build up a little muscle tone after the misadventures of the past year. We will finally use some of those Marriott points and venture to South Beach Miami for two weeks the last week of February and first week of March--come on, you didn't think we could totally wean ourselves from Florida did you? I am comfortable with this decision and based on where my body is now, feel moderation is the way to go in 2011. Our best to all of you for a healthy, happy, productive 2011.

Merry Christmas, Season's Greetings, Happy New Year

October 2010

The following is our Christmas letter for 2010. God has blessed us in so many ways. Right now in Macomb a beautiful snowfall has made for a winter wonderland and a white Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, Happy New Year!
The year 2010 was another eventful year for the Taylors. As you would expect, there was both good and bad news but that is the nature of life.

Diane’s parents are doing well. Harry (89) is in a nursing home with vascular dementia and Anna (87 on Christmas Day) is in the next building that is an assisted living facility. Brother Paul and his wife Marsha do a wonderful job of helping them.

The Stevensons continue to reside in Corpus Christi, TX. Luke (6) loves being in Kindergarten and James is a very talkative 2 year-old. John continues to work as a construction foreman. In addition to being a mom, Jen manages an apartment complex. We had a fun visit with them in February in Fort Myers Beach, FL, and another one in Macomb in October. We wish they lived closer, but we see them as often as possible. There is much excitement in our family as baby number 3 is due May 31, 2011.

Gordon and Lisa reside in Chicago where he is the Associate Director of Sales at the Hyatt Regency. Lisa recently took a position as the National Director of Marketing and Public Relations for BBJ Linen which has 24 U.S. offices. In September, they vacationed in London, Paris, and Zurich where they had a fabulous time.

Ryan is entering his sixth year as an associate at the Tressler LLP law firm in the Sears/Willis Tower. Ryan and Gordon attend as many Chicago-area supporting events as their busy schedules permit. It is comforting having our sons and Lisa close enough that we can see them on a fairly regular basis.

Reluctantly, the biggest event this year goes to Gordy. In February he complained of a sore throat and earache and in early March was diagnosed with base of tongue squamous cell carcinoma. The treatment of this type of cancer involved 35 radiation sessions and 5 chemotherapy infusions over 7 weeks beginning April 22nd and ending June 10th. Simply stated, the diagnosis is devastating, the treatment is awful, and recovery is slow. However, the prognosis is excellent as Gordy’s recent PET scan results indicate that he is clear of cancer for now. This has been an experience none of us will ever forget. Our “c” journey can be followed on http://www.gordytaylor2010.blogspot.com

Our roles as patient and caregiver have brought us even closer together after 42 years of marriage. It has been quite an adventure. Diane always wanted to be in the medical profession, and “Dr. Diane” got her chance administering meds and taking care of Gord. Diane finally felt comfortable leaving “the patient” and attended her nephew Derek’s wedding in July, spent four days in Chicago with one of her Macomb friends, visited the Stevensons in August, and traveled to New York City in October with longtime friends from our days on Glenoak Drive.

Please accept our sincere and heartfelt thanks for your cards, letters, emails, phone calls, visits, meals, driving, flowers, conversations, and last but certainly not the least, prayers. They comforted us, gave us hope, and helped to get us through this ordeal. People have been very generous in sharing their good will with the Taylors, and this has been sustaining and nurturing. We want to reach out this joyous holiday season to those who have lifted us up with their kindnesses with a huge thank you! We are humbled and blessed. This has been a special year. Best wishes for a joyous and healthy 2011.

Quotables

The past week was rather frenetic but also fun as we shopped and ate our way through Chicago. Progress on the taste bud front is painstakingly slow and food simply does not have much taste. I eat not because it tastes good but because I have to and this is a major adjustment for me. However, as Dr. Diane says, "December 10th marked 6 months since the last radiation treatment and it will be another 6 months before you have an accurate baseline as to how far you will come back from this odyssey."

There have been some interesting quotes thrown our way since March. We want to share some of them in no particular order:

If you are going through hell, keep going. by Winston Churchill
We knew this was going to be difficult and we needed to forge ahead each day. This quote was sent to us by many.

Take it one day at a time.
We had to do this. If at the beginning of treatment, we had to think about 35 radiation blasts, it would have been overwhelming so instead after each treatment, we crossed that day off the calendar. It made things more manageable.

How could Gordy Taylor get cancer of the tongue? His tongue never stops moving. Wayne McDaniel, Alumni Director Emeritus, University of Florida

What happened to the other 25 percent? Gordy Taylor after being informed by the ENT specialists that this type of cancer has a 75 percent recovery rate.

You idiot, your immune system has been severely compromised. TV producer Mark Dial when I said I tire easily.

You gotta believe. Jack Margenthaler, former head men's basketball coach at WIU.

You look thinner. How did you manage to lose weight? A friend who will go unnamed who knew of my condition but had a momentary mental lapse.

Please, God, make Papa get better so that we can play together. Grandson Luke Stevenson saying his nightly prayers.

I hate canned pears and applesauce. Gordy Taylor on his new diet.

Keep your positive mental attitude during this battle. Many friends and family.

Get better so you can plant more tulips. Sue Hunter Pearce

Sometimes I think men need to quit being such babies and man up and take it like a man and do what is right and don't let things beat you. Face it head on and see what you're made of. Your situation is grave; you have a choice too. I think you are doing all the right things. I bet your dad would be extremely proud of you. Gordon A. Taylor III

Everybody's trip comes to an end sometime, so it doesn't pay to obsess over when that might be, just focus on the job at hand--living life as we know it. Jerry Baranowski, WIU class of 1968

Okay, let's move on to Plan B. Diane Taylor when told her husband had a couple of "hot spots."

Let Go and Let God. Many folks suggested we do everything possible to battle the cancer and then turn it over to God as we had done everything we could do.

It if hurts, don't do it. If you're tired, rest. Dr. William McGinnis, Director of the Cancer Care Center in West Burlington, IA.

I can't believe you're going to mow the lawn. Diane Taylor to her idiot husband ten days after the end of radiation.

I don't have to wait for the report to tell you, it's malignant. Dr. Alexander Lozano, ENT specialist who performed the biopsy, to Diane.

What can I do to help? Friends and family.

It's time to pull up your big girl panties and deal with it. Unknown author. Diane loves this quote. Recently, her sister Ruth from Denver gave her a t-shirt with this saying printed on it just in case she ever forgets. During this battle with cancer as a caregiver, time wallowing in sadness and pity was out of the question. After all it was a war.

REFLECTIONS

Sunset at Fort Myers Beach, Florida

It has been a week since our good news on Monday, and we are finally slowing down and allowing ourselves to adjust to our good fortune. We did make a quick trip to Springfield on Tuesday/Wednesday as I had an appointment at the Southern Illinois University Med Center to get my face "blasted" to remove a bunch of precancerous cells. They put me under a "blue light" for 20 minutes and for a couple of days my face was "on fire." It is now full of red blotches, and I'm staying inside so as to not scare the neighbor children. We thought about putting a photo of me on the blog, but it would make you ill to look at me. The good news is that this is all temporary and should clear up in a week or so. The dermatologist says this has nothing to do with base of tongue cancer.

Then on Thursday morning, and I'm quoting another tongue cancer survivor, I "broke up with PEG!" Dr. Card, my local surgeon, had me lie down on a table and he said, "if this doesn't come out easily, we will go over to the hospital and do it." And with that, a quick pull and PEG and I officially parted company. There has been a little bleeding but that was to be expected and, of course, Dr. Diane has been there to (1) change the dressing and (2) tell me to slow down--go figure. I had been warned that acute pain can accompany PEG removal but fortunately for me that was not the case. Way to go, Dr. Card!!

Thursday afternoon, it hit us head on. I laid in my bed glad that it was all over. No more radiation, no more chemo (we hope), PEG removed, and my face treated. It was over, really over. I have no more doctors to see in the near future. As I relaxed in bed, I did just that: relaxed and thought how lucky I am. Diane played some bridge that afternoon, and then it hit her. She walked in the house, had a bowl of cereal, and went to bed. I think for the first time she could put all this behind her. I know I've been through a lot but Diane has been there every step of the way and as caretaker, this has had to have taken a toll on her.

Diane and I both feel a sense of relief and tranquility. It is difficult to verbalize, but we feel we are gradually getting our lives back from this visit to the precipice. Mind you, the journey is probably never over as one never knows what the future holds, but for now a feeling of peace. Heck, last night I had a "mild" choking episode but nothing like in the past; I simply let my guard down and wasn't paying attention to my chewing then water regimen.

All of this good fortune has been made even more poignant to us by the death this week at age 62 from aggressive prostate cancer of our local State Representative who was one of the world's nicest, most thoughtful men. The world is diminished by his passing. At the visitation, it hit us like a ton of bricks as we paid our last respects. In an email I received this week from Chuck Vokral, he said "God has shined on Gordy." That pretty much says it all. I am aware that the recovery component of all this continues but for now we plan to savour the moment and simply enjoy life.

We are off to Chicago Tuesday to see family and friends and then to Corpus Christi prior to Christmas to see Jennifer and her bustling family. In January, Diane will return to Corpus and then we intend to head to Florida for 6 weeks or so from early February until mid March followed (I told you this doesn't entirely disappear) by a visit to the Ear, Nose,Throat doctor at the end of the month.

But for now, this feeling of peace is to be taken and digested one day at a time. Like no other time in our lives, Diane and I are cognizant of the fragility of life and the reality that it can be swept away at any time. This is a sobering reality but our experience has made us ever more appreciative of the gift of life.

Happy Days are Here Again!!!

DATELINE: Cancer Care Center, West Burlington, IA.

DATE: November 29, 2010

APPOINTMENTS: 10:00, 11:00, 12:30, 1:30

RESULTS: ALL GOOD.

Today is a day we will not soon forget. We think about what could have happened and didn't. Every visit to each doctor was excellent in terms of the results we received. The hot spot located near my upper breast bone is gone. The smaller one located near my vocal chords is there but no one seems to think it is cancerous. The Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor did a thorough visual scope/examination of my base of tongue, throat, and vocal chords and saw nothing.

Here is the prognosis: I am to see the ENT doctor at the end of March and there's probably no need to see the other doctors unless my situation changes for the worse. There are no guarantees here but we could not have gotten better news. We have kept our emotions pretty much in check until now as we type this and are overwhelmed with emotion. This has been quite a 9 month roller coaster ride. When one deals with cancer, I'm told, the prospect of recurrence is always there but for now the 800 pound gorilla has been sent back to Jane Goddall where he belongs.

There is more good news. As of Thursday morning at 8:45, PEG will become history. Don Patterson will then have to share center stage with me as one of two men in Macomb to have 2 navels. Diane sold the doctors on my ability to move on without PEG. She somehow convinced them that I'm disciplined, focused, and goal-oriented--go figure. I will now supplement my diet with Ensure Plus and Boost Plus. We both think this is doable which is a good thing as we plan to be in Chicago and Texas in December.

More reports will be forthcoming as this journey is not yet over but we do want to say from the bottom of our hearts: THANKS TO ALL OF YOU for the support that you have provided us these past 9 months. It's hard to believe that on March 1, 2010 our lives were pretty much as they had always been but on March 2nd, they changed forever. Diagnosis, PEG insertion, radiation, chemotherapy, 50 trips to Burlington, sickness, a stay in the hospital, substantial weight loss, and probably worst of all for me: the inability to speak for 2 weeks. You can all stop laughing at this point. And so it goes.....

Options

Lou Gehrig, Yankee Stadium

The PET-CT scan is in the books. Since my appointment was at 6:30 this morning, we spent the night at David and Gretchen Miller's home. This way we dodged the early morning deer and it made for a less stressful day. I was told to do nothing the day before the test except drink water, drink water, drink water. No walking. No working in the yard. No nothing. So I was a good boy did just that. We get the results on Monday, the 29th. At this point, I assume one of five things will happen. Of course even though I'm a doctor, I'm not the kind who can help anyone medically. Here's what I think could happen in descending order of desirability:

1. The "hot spots" are gone and the PET-CT scan is clear.

2. The "hot spots" are still there but too soon to do anything and they need to be watched and monitored.

3. The "hot spots" have grown since August 25th, and it is time for more radiation.

4. The "hot spots" have grown and neck dissection surgery is in order.

5. Call my son the lawyer and get my affairs in order.

If the way I feel is any indication, it will be option number 1 or 2. Gee, on Monday old friends Bob and Donna O'Toole drove from Downers Grove to Macomb, and we had a lovely visit. We went out for lunch and I had a cup of chicken noodle soup, some potato chips, a pickle, and some of Diane's chicken salad sandwich including the bread. Oh, and I forgot--12 glasses of water.

For me, November 29th is Thanksgiving, Christmas, 4th of July, Diane's birthday, my birthday, and the kids' birthdays all rolled into one in terms of its significance. We will do a blog post late Monday afternoon upon our return to Macomb after our doctors' appointments.

Regardless of the results, good or bad, I have remained steadfast in my appraisal of my situation. I'm borrowing here what Lou Gehrig, the famous Yankee baseball player, said it best after he had been diagnosed with ALS which is a disease that carries his name. In front of a full house at Yankee Stadium on July 4, 1939, Gehrig gave his farewell speech. He said, "Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." I must admit that as I compose this, I am overwrought with emotion. I have much for which to be thankful. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!!

Dinner Date, Discipline, New Friends

At the counter with James and Luke in October 2009
Part of Chris on the left.

I got a bright idea last week--an actual Friday night date with Diane. We hadn't been out together alone at night, and I thought it was time. I was wrong. Breakfast and lunch are fine. We dress casual, and we are in and out. At breakfast, I usually order an egg and water (now that's a visual) and then pirate some of Diane's pancake or whatever else is on her plate. Lunch is pretty much the same as I order soup and then help myself to whatever Diane has ordered. But a date is different.

We both showered, put on reasonably nice clothes, used a little fragrance, and then savoured a glass of Sauvignon Blanc wine while listening to the old standards music like Sinatra, Julie London, and Peggy Lee. The evening began nicely and soon we were off for our 7:00 reservation. We were seated a nice table at Magnolia's and owner Lisa Ward was attentive to our every need. The three of us visited a bit and then we ordered. That's when it happened. After our salads arrived, we began eating and I made eye contact with Diane. After 42 years of marriage without saying a word, the eyes tell the story. Diane looked over and said, "Gord, you don't have to eat all of it." I took another bite or two and pushed it aside asking for a to go box for salad. Can you believe it? The entree was served and it was excellent. However, you could sense the sadness at our table as I looked at Diane and new immediately what was wrong. She reluctantly admitted that it broke her heart to watch me struggle to eat my dinner. I now realize with certainty that at the present time I no longer live to eat but rather eat to live. Going out for dinner used to be one of our small pleasures and entertainment but that will be on hold in the near future. The restaurant setting was fine, the company terrific, and the food excellent but the "magic" just wasn't there. As we drove home, Diane and I reminded ourselves that we are dealing with cancer and its aftermath. Our lives in many ways have evolved to the new normal and we take an awful lot for granted.

It's no secret; Gordy Taylor has a Type A personality who enjoys being active. I like routine, am a planner, and like to keep busy. For a while, my routine was to lay in bed, take medication, take product, and sleep. Now my life has some normalcy to it. I am convinced I have been well served and Diane would agree with this that my over zealous discipline has expedited my recovery. I have not yet missed a product feeding which means I get up in the middle of the night, have a drink of water, and hook up 2 cans of product through PEG. Currently, I ingest 4 cans of product per day, and a bottle of Ensure Plus and Boost Plus. I don't allow myself to miss a feeding. Walking an hour a day is part of my daily regimen, and I seldom skip a day. To my credit, I have done everything the doctors have instructed me to do, but then it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that following their directives is in my best interest.

We have been customers of Ford Hopkins Pharmacy on the Macomb Square for 40 years. We simply like to support local businesses. But things are different now as Ford Hopkins has become a daily stop for me. It is more than a little bit like Norm on Cheers. I walk in the front door and greeted by Roberta at the front counter. As I walk past the old time soda fountain, I call out to the smiling Chris "what does a guy have to do to get a vanilla malt to go?" She laughs; I laugh. Then I put $3.06 on the counter and proceed back to the pharmacy department where I exchange pleasantries with pharmacists Leslie and owner Rick Crossett. If I have a prescription to get, Marilyn is there behind the second counter to handle that process. These five wonderful folks have, for the time being, become part of my daily routine. Life in a small town--you can't beat it.

A Caretaker's View

Diane, James (2), Luke (6), Gordy

It has been a while since I penned an entry and with the impending PET-CT scan, my mind has been in overdrive swirling with many random thoughts. Like Gordy, I view the glass half full and not half empty. In fact, there's nothing "half" in our lives; it's always been full. We are blessed. Gord has written about his "c" journey, and I have had my own "c" travels except mine is not cancer but care giving. When I was fully engrossed in my Dr. Diane mode administering medicines including the all important doses and times, I was extremely organized and in command. "Product" feedings were also a part of my daily routine. Thankfully all of this has stopped. I was a "helicopter" hovering over my partner in life trying to do everything possible to keep him comfortable. The challenge for me has been to back off and let go.

Now about that 800 pound gorilla!! Yes, his presence is felt in our lives. However, since the PET-scan results on August 25th indicated 2 "hot spots" of activity which can mean cancer, we refuse to allow the gorilla to grow and become unmanageable. When we have family and friends visit, our minds focus on others and not on the gorilla. My brother Paul said, "when the family is around, the gorilla doesn't grow and disappears for a while which is good for you and Gordy." He's right. A high school classmate of Gordy's wrote that we need to send the gorilla back to Jane Goddall!! You are so right, Sharon!! Many friends have said it isn't fair that we've had to live in limbo since the end of August and maybe they are right. However, children suffering from cancer and other diseases isn't fair either.

Our home has always been fondly referred to as the Taylor B & B. We've always had people staying with us especially since Gordy had been the "alumni" guy. As far back as WIU's Homecoming 1970 when we lived at Southern Hills apartments as a new faculty prof and his wife, we had friends "crash" with us--am I dating myself? Since the end of April, the B & B for the most part has had a "no vacancy" sign out. As his caregiver, I have described myself as a bulldog guarding his welfare. I've had to limit his time with others because he was tired and weak. People called before they came over; this is a new one for us and fortunately is no longer the case. Friends and family have been so very understanding.

Worry seems to be my middle name. When Ryan was in college, he said, "Mom, if I ever talk to another student who is feeling like no one cares, I will tell them that my mom worries for everyone so don't feel alone." Gordon also had some very wise words for me when I was in extra worry mode: don't worry about it, pray about it. When Gordon and Ryan are around us, it seems like we have had role reversals. I try to recite the Serenity Prayer when worry comes to visit.

There is a saying about how a doctor should not try to "heal thyself." I did a fine job as Gord's caregiver. People reminded me to take care of myself. I would quickly say, "oh sure, I'm okay." However, once we were in the throws of his treatment, I quit taking my hour walks, quit taking my vitamins, quit eating proper foods (Rice Krispies for dinner 3 times a week is not good), quit sleeping through the night, and had 2 sinus infections. I had an apt. with my internist for a general check-up with blood work. While in his office, he asked how I liked retirement with an easier schedule. I began to chuckle as I told him about my parents, their health challenges and changes in living arrangements. I also mentioned my new role as caregiver since the end of March. My blood pressure is a bit elevated from the usual 120. My LDL (lousy) cholesterol has increased. "You are living in a pressure cooker situation right now," Dr. Reem explained. For now, we are waiting until January to see if these things change. Yes, folks, chronic stress along with not taking care of yourself reaps unwanted health issues. Caregivers take care of yourselves.

Finally, a week does not go by that Gordy and I receive not only a card but a sincere note from Marilyn Johnson. The verse on the card this week is about the "c" words like crummy or cancer. Then it shifts focus onto good "c" words like courage, comfort, and caring. And of course Marilyn provides wonderful written words too. Gordy has shown tremendous courage. Friends and family have comforted us with their love and support. Thank you for caring about us.

Now where are Luke and James when I need a dose of hugs and kisses from my grandsons? They always bring smiles to our faces, love to our hearts, and laughter to our lives.

Health, Bucket List, and the "Dates"

HEALTH

It has become apparent to me that one of our greatest gifts is our health. We tend to take it for granted until we don't have it or until it is diminished. I obviously fall into the latter category. Wednesday I'm going to see a dermatologist in, of course West Burlington, as I am suddenly besieged with little dark itchy bumps on my upper torso. I started out with a couple and now I have a bunch. They need to be looked at by a specialist. My uninformed guess is that they are some kind of hives resulting from my unintended focus on the upcoming PET-scan. I don't intend to project about what lies ahead but human nature says otherwise.

There's some very good news to report. I'm better!! The progress is so slow that I hardly notice it until I think in the aggregate. Yesterday, in addition to "product" and Ensure, I had oatmeal in the morning; Uncle Steve's hot chili dip during the Bears game; a small portion of ham, potatoes, and applesauce for dinner; and ice cream for a night time treat. How about that!! Now, none of it tastes really good but I am eating. Comparing where I was 3 months ago struggling to have one drink of water, I have come a long way. My taste buds and salivary glands will be permanently compromised but it dawned on me that I clearly on the upswing. Hurray!

BUCKET LIST

Since seeing the movie with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, Diane and I have discussed our individual lists. I don't have much on my list. This is not because it doesn't exist, but I've lived a life where I've experienced pretty much everything I wanted to. About five years ago, I decided that a walk to the bottom of the Grand Canyon was in order. Fortunately for me, brother-in-law Steve Drew is an Eagle Scout and he coordinated everything. We left the rim early in the morning and arrived at the base of the Canyon by 3 p.m. My legs were fine but my shins bothered me. Steve arranged for lodging and food, and we walked out the next morning. Here's where it gets funny. We stopped in Kingman, AZ, on our drive back to Las Vegas after sitting in the car for about 3 hours. We opened the car doors and tried to get out. Steve and I could hardly walk. We stood in the parking lot bent over laughing at each other because we looked like a couple of 90 year old men. While painful, it was a hoot, and our walk into the restaurant to get a bite to eat took forever.

I tell this story to remind all of you, particularly those of you in the plus 60 set, to not wait "too long" to do those things that require physical stamina and good health. I was just shy of 60 when Steve and I made our trip, and it was fine though challenging. I'm glad I did it when I did because I couldn't do it today.

My next big bucket list item is Italy and France with Diane in September. We plan to go to Rome, Florence, Cortona, Sestri Levante, Cannes, and Paris. It's time for me to use some of my Marriott points. What am I waiting for?

THE DATES

No secret here. PET-Scan, November 24th, and follow-up doctors' appointments to find out results etc. on Monday, November 29th, which will determine the future. More to follow.....

Copland and Melancholy

American Composer Aaron Copland

We made another trip to the Chicago area. On Wednesday, Nov. 3rd, we had lunch with Bob and Jerry Lynn Cox in Geneva at the Little Owl which is a local restaurant with a lot of character. Bob has had a bout with multiple myeloma cancer so we compared notes. Robert Wayne Cox is a special person to me as he mentored me at Western when he was a resident assistant (R.A.) on Seal Hall Three, and he supported my pursuit of an R.A. job as well. That evening Diane and I had dinner with Mike and Judy Mason in Clarendon Hills. Mike and I are members of the Class of 1964 of Hinsdale Township (now Central) High School, and we always room together when a group of guys from our class get together for road trips.

Thursday was a long but enjoyable day. Somehow when I was in junior high I got hooked on the music of the great American composer of Aaron Copland. I probably have about every piece of music he composed. It is not unusual for people to see me on I-88 arms in motion conducting my own imaginary Aaron Copland concert. I'm sure people are alarmed when they see me, but in my mind, I'm really pretty good! During radiation, patients are encouraged to bring their own CD's to play during treatment. Coach Patterson listened to Neil Diamond for all 35 treatments; and I drove the radiation staff crazy listening to endless Copland compositions.

Several months ago good friends Judy and Roger Miller who regularly attend the Chicago Symphony called and said, "Guess what, Copland's 'Appalachian Spring' is being performed November 4th, and you and Diane are going with us!" Little did we know back then what the past few months would bring our way. It was truly a game day decision, but we decided a trip out of Macomb would be good for me. Even though I still have PEG, I left Macomb without "product" and relied on Ensure and Boost Plus.

I rested for a couple of hours at Millers that afternoon since I knew I would be up late. We had a great evening. For two glorious uninterrupted hours, I was oblivious to my situation and just sat back and enjoyed the beautiful music. Thanks Judy and Roger!!

Friday morning, Diane drove me to LaGrange in order catch the train to Macomb while she sent a lovely weekend with her family in Zion. Diane's dad continues to get deeper into his vascular dementia but still smiles when he sees her. Her mom is active and content at the assisted living complex. Diane came home and said she had a great time, especially with her mom. It was a nice change of pace for Diane.

That brings me to melancholy. I get a little better every day with an emphasis on the word "little." I am reluctantly coming to the realization that the "new normal" will not be the old normal. Resting for two hours before going out at night is simply not part of my make-up, but it is now. It's the little things that get to me. When I sneeze or cough, my head hurts. When I work in the yard, I can only do so for about two hours then I'm done for the day. The "old normal" allowed me to work outside all day. The dry mouth is a constant reminder of my condition. I have a hard time remembering to take water every where I go. Loss of taste buds has really been a bummer. I do so love the taste of food, and I have good fortune of being married to an excellent cook. It is very difficult to eat when nothing has much taste at all, but reality is I need to do so if I ever hope to free myself from PEG. All of these things contribute to my melancholy mood at times.

I am no longer in control of my body. Every time I get an ache or a pain, I wonder is this something to worry about? Is this connected to my treatment? Is this to be expected? Is this another form of cancer? Sunday morning, I took an early walk and suddenly and inexplicably got a bloody nose. What the heck is this? And then I remember the words of Mike Mason who said, "Yeah, Gord, you are recovering from cancer but we are also 64 years old, and it is difficult to determine what is health related and what is old age."

It has always been my intent to be completely honest with what I write here, and I must confess I have some ambivalence about this experience with cancer. I have much to be thankful for as I do feel pretty good! I miss the old Gordy; however, I'm getting used to the new Gordy.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

I don't know why for sure but I've always been a big fan of Peter Pan. I suppose it's because his motto is "I won't grow up." Of course, cancer has a way of no longer making that phrase work real well but still James, Luke, Diane, and I enjoyed sitting in front of the TV watching the Disney Classic from beginning to end. When the crocodile is chasing Captain Hook, because of the fact that he swallowed an alarm clock, he goes "tick tock tick tock" and Captain Hook knows when he is the vicinity. Can't you just see Hook's eyebrows go up and down with each tick of the clock--priceless!!

As we wait for the PET scan hopefully at the end of this month, Diane and I can't help but hear the tick tock of expected results impacting out lives. I try not to think about it. Diane tries not to think about it. But the closer we get to this date when we find out if the "hot spots" are gone, we can't help but wonder what the results will be. We try not to project. However, it is possible that we will be getting what amounts to life or death feedback.

I thought that this had not affected me all that much until yesterday when I looked in the mirror, really looked in the mirror. I've been told over the years that I look youthful but yesterday was a bit of a wake up call. Who the hell is that old guy with the gaunt expression looking back at me? Oh my God, it's me! For the first time I realized that this cancer trip has taken a bit of a toll on youthful Gord. I mentioned that I think I've aged a bit to Diane as we walked around the Rec Center track and to my amazement she said nothing. Good God, she didn't disagree with me. Her silence spoke volumes. Oh well. This too shall pass.

Until we get the results the first week of December, Diane and I will continue to live with the 800-pound gorilla in our house, our car, on our walks, in our bed, and every where else we go. Such fun.

McGinnis's Rules

Dr. William McGinnis, M.D.

Medical Director--Great River Cancer Care Center, West Burlington, IA

When we first started treatment, Diane and I met with a wonderful man, Dr. Bill McGinnis, who as it turns out was also the radiation oncologist for Coach Don Patterson at the University of Iowa. Dr. McGinnis is very patient, thorough, candid, and has a casual manner that puts people at ease. Yet, he sugar coats nothing which we both appreciated as in spite of the fact that this has not been fun, there have been no surprises.

I generally speak to a half dozen or so college classes each semester on the topic of individual motivation and the choices/consequences we experience in life. I did my first such presentation Friday and while in the past, I have done 3 in a day, I'm bright enough to finally realize I need to cut back so I'm doing one a week for the next three weeks. I enjoy doing this as it gets me out and as I've discovered over the years, sometimes what I say actually gets students to think about how they are living their lives.

I mention Dr. McGinnis because his advice to all cancer patients is brief and to the point. He has two rules of life:

1. If you get tired, rest.

2. If it hurts, don't do it.

This seems very simplistic but as I recover, the hardest part has been to realize I need to slow down. Last week when talking about how I felt a little bit tired, my tv producer, Mark Dial, said, "Gee, Gord, I thought you were smart. Don't you know your immune system is shot and your recovery will be very slow." I came home and shared Mark's profound insights with Diane who was not amused. She looked at me and said, "I tell you that every day." Of course she's right but sometimes we listen better when advice comes from a third party.

The point of all this is that I am learning to pace myself, and I realized at the conclusion of this first classroom outing that I was finished for the day. Kudos to Bill McGinnis who does so much for so many people including me!

Too Much Too Soon But Much Better

James and Aunt Lisa

The Stevenson visit was wonderful but "we are showing our age." We don't see our grandsons as often as we'd like so when we do, it's like we need to cram in six months of attention in six days. Usually that would work out, but this time it really drained us. I must admit, neither Diane or myself would have done anything differently as the photos from our last posting clearly demonstrate but we simply ran out of gas. I think we tend to forget the 800 pound gorilla who lives with us until the results of the PET scan at the end of the month. He is always there, waiting for us to let down our guard, get complacent, and figure everything is behind us. It is not nor will it ever totally be gone from our lives. My guess is that there is some underlying residual stress that is always there waiting to manifest itself if we don't take care of ourselves.

In a way, and I'm a bit of an expert on this because of my parents' travails, cancer is more than a little like alcoholism--just when you think you have things under control, it jumps up and bites you in the ass. It lurks in the background just waiting for a moment of weakness and then pounces on that opportunity to give you a set back.

Diane actually got sicker than me so naturally being "Gordy Taylor," I said and I quote "how long will I have to take care of you, when will this crap end, why are you sleeping at 3 in the afternoon??" You get the drift. I'm lucky I have my own room to sleep in right now. We both had a good laugh, but it has been a long week and we are just now getting back to normal. Today, I walked for the first time in a week at the Rec Center so it is back to baby steps. As I mentioned in the previous entry, it was suddenly like I was back in early June at the apex of my discomfort or maybe the nadir--take your pick.

The wedding curse continues. While I was ambivalent about my attendance Saturday morning, all I had to do was look at Diane, and I realized we were going no where. This is the fourth wedding I've missed since all this has happened; I hope it is the last one. I did get a chance to talk with the sisters of the groom Saturday morning before they took off for the wedding which was nice.

I did an "Across the Miles" yesterday and am doing another one tomorrow. Other than that, we plan to lay low and maybe take in a movie and the WIU/ISU football game here in Macomb.

A Wonderful Visit and a Wake-up Call

A shovel the size of Star Wars lightsabers--just the right size for little helpers.

John giving his sons a ride.

Uncle Ryan helping get the pile bigger.

James liked pulling out the summer flowers.

When the tulips bloom, we'll think of Luke's planting.

Uncle Gordon knows how to make the boys happy.

One for the money, two for the show....

The marshmallows tasted good!

As you can see from the attached photos, Diane and I are proud grandparents. We just had a hoot with Luke and James. We enjoyed milkshakes at the Ford Hopkins Pharmacy old fashion soda fountain at 9 a.m. You are correct! We would never have done this with our own children but hey we are grandparents. Leaves were raked into a large pile into which two young men were deposited after wheelbarrow rides around the house. Summer flowers were pulled and tulip bulbs were planted with my little buddies. Every day included a wagon ride with Papa and Grandma to the end of the block and back. Of course, we had a football game that rivaled anything the Kennedys could have done. We watched DVDs of Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan. Oh my God, I am Peter Pan!! I'll never grow up but I like that. There was snuggling in the morning with Grandma and Papa. Luke and James picked out purple T-shirts with a Rocky logo (of course) at Gumbarts and made numerous trips to the bank and walks around the square. The visit concluded with a raging bonfire on the side yard and a marshmallow roast.

Gordon, Lisa, and Ryan also joined in the festivities, and I believe our Christmas card photo has been taken. We shall see. All and all it was a wonderful week and everyone has returned home safely. Diane heard about a survey concerning laughter. Little children may laugh as many as 300 times a day. As we get older, we decrease dramatically in the number of daily laughs. Luke and James laughed so many times a day that it became infectious around our home. We could probably all use a little work in this regard. They thought everything was pretty darn funny. We loved it.

As this is being typed, I am experiencing a bit of a wake-up call. Up until the past couple of days, my progress has been extraordinary, but it has been so consistent that I really haven't noticed or appreciated it until now. I overdid it. I got rundown. I'm paying the price. I have not felt this bad since I completed radiation and chemo in June. Tuesday afternoon after returning from St. Louis where I dropped off the Stevensons for their flight home, I told Diane "I think I have a sore throat." We looked at each other in stark horror--a sore throat, oh no!! What does this mean?

What it means is a sore throat so severe that I am back on product exclusively as swallowing is simply out of the question. We went to my family doctor yesterday and he prescribed liquid antibiotics after saying my throat was red. In addition, he prescribed some magic cough syrup that puts people out for about 8 hours. It is my new temporary friend. After completing this blog, it will be about 9 a.m., and I intend to take a dose and then see Diane about 5:00 this afternoon--no kidding, it is that powerful. I do feel a little better today so I'm hoping this is all very temporary.

I'm beginning to fear I possess a "wedding curse" as we are scheduled to attend a wedding in Carthage, IL, on Saturday of our neighbor's son. At this time, I think I'll be able to make-up but too soon to tell.

All of this is sort of deja vu as Diane is back giving me my meds. Let me be clear here. I don't think this has anything to do with cancer other than the fact that a sore throat for me these days is really a sore throat. I have put myself on 100% bed rest until this passes which is not too tough to do since 1 teaspoon of cough syrup twice a day really puts me out. My immune system is still compromised.

Diane is indeed an empathetic and sympathetic spouse as she has a severe head cold that came on Tuesday as well. Maybe we should quarantine 35 Indian Trail until further notice? Let's conclude on a positive note. The sun is shining, the leaves are radiant, we're both getting better, and it's great day to be a Leatherneck.

New York, New York; An Aging Jock; Family

"The Campers" Dinner at Sardi's Restaurant, NYC

Deanne Alford, Lois Bundschuh, Diane Taylor, Patricia Nixa, & Chandra Sommers

Diane's trip to New York City with long-time friends was a huge success. They toured the city on a "Hop On, Hop Off" doubledecker bus, saw Memphis and Billy Elliott, took the NBC tour, went to the Top of the Rock (30 Rockefeller Center) to see surroundings, enjoyed delicious meals, took an hour boat cruise, and strolled through Central Park. The weather was perfect. The company: the best! .

I survived quite nicely. Ryan made a spontaneous visit Saturday and Sunday. On Monday, college friends Fred and Marilyn Mastny along with dog Bosco came over for lunch from Champaign. I closed out the day with a visit from Skip Begley and later Bill Epperly. I also dug up a flower bed and planted 60 tulips complements of Lynn and Linda Sordel from Washington state who remembered my fondness for tulips in an earlier blog. Digging in the yard is another step forward and also excellent physical and emotional therapy.

On Tuesday, I was off to West Burlington for doctor appointments and had not one but two basal cell cancers removed from my back and chest. I then visited Dr. Theron Jameson who did my shoulder surgery 6 years for the removal of bone spurs. My shoulder has been painful lately and bothering me when I attempt to lift my right arm. Visiting doctors is apparently my new career, passion, and vocation. After a couple of X-rays, Theron told me the x-rays were clear and asked if I had pitched much during my athletic activities over the years. I laughed. "I've only been pitching for 55 years" was my response. He didn't look surprised as he told me I had no cartilage left in my shoulder and someday I will need a complete replacement. He gave me a cortisone shot and sent me on my way.

Our house is very lively and active these days. Daughter Jennifer, her husband John, and grandsons Luke (6) and James (2) flew into St. Louis yesterday where Diane picked them up. I feel like I'm in perpetual motion as I give wagon and wheel barrel rides, pick up acorns and sticks, rake leaves into a big pile suitable for fun, go shopping, and of course enjoy ice cream at the Ford Hopkins soda fountain counter at 10 a.m. Ryan arrives by train Friday night and Gordon and Lisa will be here by noon on Saturday. We ARE doing a family photo in our backyard. Diane has made this very clear to one and all.

My progress continues but as before is so slow. I do have trouble hydrating as I constantly need water. This really is a nuisance but as Diane reminds me, I am progressing and not regressing. That is important.

Deck Reflections

Diane and Gordy

Alumni House--Homecoming 2010

Last night Diane and I spent a quiet reflective couple of hours on the deck. It was very peaceful and serene with Indian Summer clearly the order of the day. An occasional hickory nut fell from our trees, the hibiscus and impatiens are still in bloom, yellow finches fed at the bird feeder, and there was a gentle breeze. Oh, did I forget? A couple of glasses of wine added to the tranquility and yes, even I had a glass. While it is not uncommon for us to talk about the "c" situation, last night we delved a bit deeper into some significant issues.

It all began when Diane asked, "Gord, did or do you ever feel alone?" I knew then our conversation was going to be a little bit different. I thought for a moment and replied, "Absolutely. Every night during treatment I would lay there in that bed, hooked up to my feeding machine, with both the fan, and cold mist humidifier humming away. I couldn't help but realize I was alone in that room as poisons coursed through my body killing the cancer cells." I through the question back at Diane which became the order of the evening and she replied, "Yes! Even though you were upstairs and sleeping about 17 hours per day, you weren't the same ole Gord. You were sick. I had never seen you like this before for so many days. Heck, you hardly took a sick day in 38 years of your career, but now you really needed me. I felt alone in this house even though you were upstairs."

Gord, have you learned anything about yourself and/or situation? Yes, with your help, I have been able to handle whatever has come my way. I'm more adaptable to adversity than I thought I would be. Of course, part of the credit goes to those wonderful folks who prepared me for what I was about to face. How about you, Diane? I know way too much about base of tongue cancer and its treatment. I now know terms and meds that I had never heard of previously. For the most part, I could take care of my children when sick but this was a whole new ballgame. I had to learn about things in order to deal with the cancer. I learned that I am a pretty strong woman.

Do you look at mortality differently, Gord? Heavens, yes (no pun intended). For the first time, it is clearly on my radar--enough said. And you, Diane? Yes, I try not to think about life without you but I know it is a possibility albeit remote.

When did you feel the most scared? Yes, that's easy. The night at 35 Indian Trail when I absolutely could not stop throwing up even when there was nothing else inside of me. The bile was so strong the paint came off in 2 places on the toilet seat. This ordeal continued the next day when I hurled out the car window on the way to Burlington for another radiation treatment. Yuck. How about you? I have a few incidences: March 4th, the day you were diagnosed and heard about the malignant tumor from the specialist. Also, when you were hospitalized with an infection for 3 days. And finally after treatment when you had sores covering the inside of your mouth and you were in so much pain.

Sad times? Not really. I was on major drugs and for a long time, I was in fog. Upon further reflection, I feel sad that my family has had to endure this, but it's part of life. Lou Gehrig said it best, and it applies to me as well, "I am the luckiest man on the face of the earth." I know you have had some sad times, Diane, right? While I have only had a couple of "ugly cries," I seem to be a bit sad or melancholy when I stop to think about what you have had to endure. In the throes of your treatment, I was exhausted and too preoccupied taking care of you to get sad.

Anything surprise you? Two things according to Gord: one good, one bad. The downside would be the diminished physical capabilities of the "new" Gordy. I can walk for hours but I do not have the old energy which was my trademark for 60+ years. I am hopeful and told that the best I can expect is to become 80% of my former self. This will come with greatly reduced taste buds and salivary gland activity. I suppose these are not really surprises but I never expected I could be compromised in so many ways. On the bright side, the answer is loud and resounding: PEOPLE have simply been wonderful to me and my family. When I was in the midst of treatment, the mailman said to Diane, "Is it Christmas at your house? You are always getting so much mail?" While it is a bit of a fog, and someday I will reread them, every day saw 5 to 10 cards arrive from well wishers. It was truly amazing and I was very moved. Diane: I completely agree with you about people. Friends have called not once but some all the time. The words people have written have moved me to tears on more than one occasion. Also, the sincerity is remarkable and genuine.

What do you miss? Enjoyment of dining out and the days when I stayed up past 9 and could sleep past 5. Diane explained that she misses the serenity and stability of our life, being able to plan ahead, and not worrying about the future.

Diane is off to New York City to meet up a bunch of her friends from the "old neighborhood" on Glenoak Drive and Briarwood in Macomb. These ladies have been meeting annually for about 15 years at various locations around the country for a long weekend of renewed friendships. They used to call these trips "going to camp." So they fondly called themselves "The Campers." Next week our entire family will rendezvous in Macomb. It will be hectic, crazy, but great fun. There will be no lack of stimulating conversation and laughter.

Doctors, Exercise, and Michael Douglas

I met with a couple of doctors last week. I asked about occasional headaches and body achiness. He replied that this is not uncommon as the body is adjusting to the effects of chemo and radiation. As for the dry mouth, that continues to be an issue that will not go away but that is also common with my type of cancer. The biggest immediate challenge I face these days is the loss of salivary glands and taste buds which unfortunately result in food consumption being not impossible but a real challenge. Diane came up with a great parallel as she watches me attempt to eat. Remember when you were a little kid and your parents made you eat something you just couldn't stand? To get through the experience, you guzzled it down with a big gulp of milk. Every meal is like that for me. Take a bite, take a swallow of water, take a bite, take a swallow of water, and so on. You get the picture. At least now, I can take that swallow of water when before I couldn't.

Friday night we actually left the house for 2 hours to attend a cocktail party in honor of newlyweds Cathy Cavins and her husband Ashley. I managed to eat 2 huge shrimp, a meatball, a carrot stick, and a key lime cupcake with LOTS of icing. The shrimp was doused with plenty of cocktail sauce, the meatball was a challenge, and the carrot stick was accompanied by copious amounts of dip. After 2 hours, it was time for me to go home, but it was good for us to get out for a while.

The oncologist, Dr. Ali, suggested I have the next PET-scan after Thanksgiving rather than before to give those "hot spots" a chance to either disappear or grow enough to warrant further treatment. This means I will keep PEG in until that time as if I remove it now and then need more attention, I would have to have it reinserted. Then I would have 3 navels instead of the 2 I have to date.

Diane and I had appointments with a dermatologist in Burlington, IA, last week as Diane had not been in quite some time, and I always have questionable areas. She found 2 dark moles on Diane's back and suggested they should be removed and biopsied. They required stitches but we got the call yesterday that they are both benign. Good news!! Naturally, I was not so lucky. I had a scraping of a spot on my shoulder blade and the results were that it reveals basal cell cancer which is the least significant of skin cancers. It is nothing to worry about but I must return for a few more scrapings to eliminate it. This is nothing for a guy who has had 3 squamous cell skin cancers removed. I will also have a comprehensive laser treatment on my face as I have lots of actinic keratosis (precancerous) cells. I hope to go to the SIU Medical Hospital in Springfield, IL, for this very specific procedure. Again, this is nothing to worry about but needs to be addressed.

Tomorrow I plan to return to the Spencer Recreation Center for a very mild workout with weights. My months of inactivity have resulted in some mild muscle atrophy, and I just want to begin the process of getting stronger. I have never been a serious "weight guy" but I figure 30 minutes or so 3 times a week is probably good for me in more ways than one. Dr. Ali gave me his stamp of approval.

No doubt you have noticed the absence of Michael Douglas the last couple of weeks after his recent media blitz announcing his battle with base of tongue cancer. I knew this was coming. He is at the point where he is deep into treatment, and I'm sure he is consumed with battling his disease. Diane reminds me that there was a month or so where I slept 17 hours a day and saw virtually no one except our children and medical professionals. Heck, I couldn't even talk!! My prayers go out to Michael Douglas and his family and everyone else who deals with potentially terminal diseases. It's ironic how my mind now thinks about such things. Apparently, cancer does that to a person.

Progress and Moms

Constance Pranger Taylor, 19 years old

November 17, 1940--Wedding Photo

I continue to make progress on all fronts, but it is so slow. This is not like when you are sick with the flu and one day feel markedly better. Every day when I wake up, I feel basically the same as the day before. I am aware of the fact that recovery is being made in very small incremental steps. It has been 8 months since a sore throat and all that has transpired since. Suffice it to say, this has been the longest year of my life. So much has happened to me personally and to those I care about the most. I just never imagined I would ever get something like cancer and all that goes with it. This is indeed a learning adventure. Diane and I are becoming knowledgeable about things we never imagined would concern us. They do now. I'm sure Michael Douglas and his family feel the same way.

While on my 7 a.m. walk today, my thoughts went to mothers. Yesterday Jennifer and Diane had a wonderful conversation. It was fun to watch Diane interact with Jen on the phone as they talked about what seemed like everything under the sun. Later in the day, Diane had a conversation with Gordon III and finally one with Ryan. It's no secret that Diane likes to talk, but she is also an extremely good listener. I feel very close to all 3 of my children, but my phone conversations with them tend to be more in the 5 minute range. In our family, and I'm sure all families are different, it is Diane with whom the kids seem to share the daily happenings in their lives. My kids know how I feel about them; I know how they feel about me. As I watch Diane interact with our kids, I realize how much I miss my mom.

I wrote about my mom in the winter 1995 edition of the Western News (Western Illinois University's alumni publication). I began my comments by writing "it had not been a very good year." The good news was that brother David was married to his college sweetheart on August 25, 1962. However, our family nightmare began the next day when the doctor called to say the results were positive--Connie Taylor had tuberculosis. Our lives were to be changed forever. David returned to classes at Western Illinois University and the rest of us struggled along in Hinsdale--my dad, brothers Douglas 11 and Greg 5 and myself 16.

When a person goes to a TB sanitarium, one stays there until recovery or death. None of us had ever experienced life without Mom. She cooked our meals, did the laundry, kept an immaculate home, nurtured us all, and did a thousand other things Moms do that none of us think much about. I was the logical choice to fill in around the house including meal preparations; we almost starved. I reluctantly became Mr. Mom as I dusted, vacuumed, changed beds, washed dishes, cleaned toilets, and attended high school. For the first time in my life, I realized all the things moms do every day for which they receive no recognition, nor do they expect any. It's just what they did in the fifties. There is a huge emptiness when Moms are not around as they are the glue that holds most families together.

Doug and Greg were not allowed to visit Mom inside the sanitarium due to the highly contagious nature of TB and the fact that they were under 16 years of age. One of my duties was to twice weekly pack up my younger siblings and drive them to a location about 50 yards from a window outside Mom's room, and then run inside and escort her to that same window so she could wave to her youngest sons. It was awful. It was the best we could do.

Mom never gave up. She told us she would get well and soon we'd all be together. Mom always had a brave smile, but I think we all knew better. Over the next year, Mom's condition did not improve. She had major surgery and lost all of one lung and part of another. We all coped as best we could but there was always an empty chair at the kitchen table. No one ever really complained. We boys just wanted our mom back and Dad his beloved Connie.

I was not exactly an imposing physical specimen as a young lad; I was skinny, had buck teeth, and plenty of pimples. You wouldn't know it if you talked to Connie Taylor. She acted like I was Tab Hunter or Troy Donahue. She was fiercely proud and protective of her four sons. We all knew this when growing up--Mom was a real looker. David and I took great pleasure when our friends would come to 27 South Bruner and inquire about our "good looking sister." It was always fun to look at their expressions when we told them she was our mom. However, TB took that away from her, and at the end, she looked like a tired Judy Garland.

Mom came home, but she died in July 1969 at age 47. I'm 64 and have long known that life isn't fair. Mom gave her entire adult life to her husband and 4 sons. She never complained, she never lamented to her sons that she had been dealt a bad hand, and she always told us to be grateful for what we had because at least we had each other. Her words take on new meaning to me these days, and her fighting spirit gives me reassurance that I can handle whatever comes my way. Thanks, Mom, I miss you.

People, People, People

Diane, Anna and Harry Paulsen, Gordy Gordy and Dad
Dad and Diane

It has been quite a week. On Monday, Diane and I took the Metra to Waukegan from Chicago where the always reliable brother-in-law Paul picked us up and squired us around as we visited Diane's parents. Grandma wanted to see me so she could determine for herself how I was doing--I believe I passed the test. We had a good visit with Diane's dad as well as he is next door in the nursing home.

On Tuesday, we had lunch with Gordon and then hopped in the car and made it to Macomb in 3 hours and 50 minutes. We were lucky that the Eisenhower was wide open. It was good to get home but no regrets about the trip and we plan on more in the near future.

This was WIU's Homecoming weekend, and it is one neither of us will soon forget. We stopped by the Leatherneck Hall of Fame dinner Friday night to offer our congratulations to the new inductees. While I walk around town and see people, it is usually a one-on-one situation but this was quite different. My energy sags a little at night but we were energized and extremely moved by the sincere concern and love people showed us. Handshakes were out; hugs were in. It is difficult to verbalize how one feels when people come up and inquire about my progress or compliment me on how I look as in many cases, I haven't seen these folks over the past few months. It is not that I'm a hermit, but my primary trips outside Indian Trail are my daily morning walks.

We ventured over to the Alumni House and the process was repeated particularly with large groups of returning Delta Sigma Phi and Tau Kappa Epsilon fraternity members. Diane was particularly struck by the scene of men in the mid-60's again forgoing handshakes and going straight to hugs. Time and again, a friend from the past would have trouble verbalizing his or her thoughts but a hug said it all and then some. I was not aware of how many blog readers there are but I am now. I have always said I had the best job at Western and know now that I was speaking the truth.

Even though I live with it on a daily basis, I sometimes forget that I have been dealing with what could turn out to be a life-threatening illness, and people are genuinely concerned about my welfare. This weekend was a powerful and positive tonic in my recovery. People were just so darn nice. After the parade and football game on Saturday, we made a brief stop at the Delta Sigma Phi's 60th anniversary social and dinner. Diane and I were unprepared when Chapter Alumni Corporation Board President Ed Noel introduced us prior to our departure. We stood there in awe speechless as our eyes looked around the room at so many young men who I had had the pleasure of mentoring as fraternity advisor for 25 years. The standing ovation of 130 attendees was almost too much emotionally for us. I went to the podium, mumbled a few words of thanks, and we were out the door. It had been quite a weekend for the Taylors.

I have returned to my one-hour interview program Across the Miles on University Television. Alumni Director Amy Spelman was kind enough to be my first guest as I needed someone with whom I had a long history so that I didn't have to struggle with words. It went well. In her quarterly column in the Western News, Amy mentions my health situation and provides the blog address. Thanks, Amy!

We had a mini Big Chill weekend as well with house guests and dear friends Fred and Pam Hoffman and Steve McLaughlin. All three have been presidents of the WIU Alumni Association. While everyone went their separate ways during the day, we would rendezvous at our home at night. Oh the laughter. My only regret is that I would retire early due to my lack of energy. From my bedroom, I could hear the laughter continue and that in itself was wonderful. The past few months have not provided as much laughter as we are used to. It was a reminder of how important people, humor, and laughter can be.

Many thanks to everyone who has reached out to us. Mere words are inadequate to express our gratitude.

Chicago, Greg, Oops!

Greg and Gordy

We did it! We left Macomb. Other than West Burlington, I had spent every night since March 31st at 35 Indian Trail. Diane and I hemmed and hawed for weeks before committing to this adventure. I had missed weddings, Cubs games, and other activities but just felt it was time to stretch my comfort zone. I write this from Chicago which means I'm still alive. I have been taking long walks and Friday went from the Sears Tower to the River North area. Also, took a walk with son Gordon from Navy Pier to Lincoln Park and back. Chicago is a marvelous city.

We drove up Wednesday and stopped in Hinsdale to have lunch with brother Greg who has also had some health issues and is recovering nicely. I usually shake hands when I see Greg but not this time. We stood in the Grant Square parking lot and gave each other a big bear hug. It was one of those moments. I think it meant a lot to both of us. Greg is 11 years my junior and I'm proud of the man he has become.

I am having a great time except for the "dining thing." As we visit with family and friends, we end up as we always have at nice restaurants. I have always been able to eat, drink, and converse freely but no more. This may not seem like much, but it is to me. We enter a restaurant, are seated, and then it begins. Everyone is having a fine time dining on excellent Chicago cuisine while I at best suffer through ANOTHER bowl of soup. I also pirate a little food away from everyone else. It's not pretty but it expands my food intake, and people are pretty tolerant as no one knows where my fork will go.

Now for the oops part! We were having a relaxing dinner at the Sofitel Hotel with Gordon and his lovely wife Lisa. I don't know how it happened, but I got a small bite of food stuck in my throat. This has happened before, and a big gulp of water moves the food down my throat. That didn't work so well this time. I got up from the table and walked across the restaurant through the lobby of the hotel attempting to dislodge my problem. For the first time, it didn't work. I just couldn't breathe. I'm sure I was quite a sight as in my attempt to clear my throat I had food coming out my nose and my mouth into a fine Sofitel linen napkin. I was starting to really panic when it was over. Just like that! The problem went away. This was the first time since I've started eating that I got scared--really scared. I need to concentrate on the business at hand in terms of eating. This continues along with my lack of the old Gordy energy to be the toughest part of my recovery.

I'm glad we came to Chicago. It has been a wonderful tonic and soon I will be watching the Bears play Dallas with Diane, Gordon, and Ryan in a comfortable condo. It will be like old times. After a trip to Zion tomorrow to see Diane's parents, our current plan is to return to Macomb late Tuesday. After all, Homecoming is just around the corner.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

We've had lots of wonderful support the last 6 months and along with that a number of questions have seemed to crop up on a semi-regular basis. Here it goes:

1. How did you know something was wrong?

While in Florida, I developed a sore throat that simply didn't go away. I remember mentioning it to Frank and Mary Stanley when we saw them in Memphis, Bill and Pam O'Toole in the Orlando area, and Tony and Kathy Esposito when we stayed with them in the Tampa area. No fever, no real pain, just a sore throat and ear ache that I couldn't shake. I went to a GP in Fort Myers Beach and after antibiotics and ear drops did not improve the situation, he referred me to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist in Cape Coral. On March 2nd, Dr. Lozano pulled out my tongue, put his fingers half way down to my stomach (or so it seemed), scoped my throat with a tube. He said, "you have a mass at the back of your tongue and now you need a biopsy as an outpatient." Two days later I went to the hospital.

2. Why did you go to the Cancer Care Center in West Burlington, IA, instead of Northwestern Memorial Hospital?

This was a difficult decision but in the end, sleeping in my own bed every night was a major factor and turned out to be a good idea. Dr. Pelzer at Northwestern also concurred with the diagnosis with the other 2 ENT specialists we saw. He said that as long as the radiation oncologist is experienced in head and neck cancers, you are fine to stay close to home.

3. Did Diane get tired of the drive?

Here's Diane's response: No, not really. At the beginning, Gordy even drove himself to just the radiation treatments. I always went with him on Wednesdays which were doctor appointment days and Fridays were all day chemo times. I wasn't stuck in traffic, no one-lane construction projects, and it was only one hour over and then back. There was something peaceful about farmers planting their corn and Gordy and I getting to watch it grow. Now I'm an expert in 4 different routes and in some ways, it was calming. It became a part of our routine.

4. Were you ever scared?

Of course I was and a part of me still is. As was said previously in the blog, being confronted with the "c" word really gets one's attention. I was particularly concerned the night when I couldn't get my head out of the toilet and sat there in the bathroom honestly wondering if I was going to die that evening. I also a little scared during my hospital stay.

5. What's been the toughest?

Losing control of my life as I knew it and as Sue Sever Goetz said, "adjusting to my new normal." Not feeling 100% when I've always been healthy as been a major adjustment.

6. Who do you talk to about this illness?

Other than my doctors and Diane, my go to people have been Don and Lisa Patterson, Maury and Sandi Coats, and Phyllis Walters. These folks have walked in our shoes and consequently, while it has not been fun, there have been no real surprises.

7. How do you feel?

I get stronger every day, but the progress is maddeningly slow, and there's nothing I can do about it. I become less dependent on product with each passing month. I still need PEG which impedes my ability to have autonomy in my life. All in all I feel pretty good and am able to take an hour walk every day.

8. What frustrates you the most?

The whole "c" situation is very frustrating, but it could be much, much worse. Waiting to improve has been a challenge. As I venture into the world of food consumption again, it is extremely challenging to eat. The reason is simple, with every bite of food I need a large gulp of water--try it sometime. Secondly, everything taste like cardboard. Digest that one for a while--pun intended. This should improve over time but I will never have all salivary glands or taste buds again.

9. Was there really a time when you couldn't talk?

Yes, pretty much so for about 3 weeks, I whispered at best and restricted my conversations to Diane and the kids.

10. How has this affected your kids and Diane?

I believe my kids thought I would go on forever and they always kid me about being the energizer bunny "Go Go Gordy." Those days are over and my children have seen their father in a diminished capacity for the first time in their lives. Clearly they are now aware how precious life is and that mortality is inevitable. Each of them has been supportive in their own way, but I know that when I weighed 153 pounds, they were very worried. As for Diane, she has had to assume roles she never needed to assume before with me. She fed me product, gave me medications, drove me everywhere, consoled me, comforted me, and did whatever it took to get her previously healthy husband back on his feet. She also got a reminder of all the things her spouse did to help out, and that's fine. However, if the shoe were on the other foot, we would both starve to death.

11. Do you look at the world differently?

Absolutely. Life is precious. I take nothing for granted.

12. When do you get rid of the feeding tube (PEG)?

I believe it could be soon except for that 800 pound gorilla that will be with us until Thanksgiving when I have my next PET scan. If the two hot spots do not disappear and are cause for concern, heaven forbid I would need PEG if I were to have surgery or additional radiation. I really don't feel this is going to happen, but I need to check with the doctors prior to making a decision about removing PEG.

13. What's in your future?

For the first time in our lives, the planners and organizers called Gordy and Diane are unable to plan. Our plan is no plan. I am constantly reminded that after radiation and chemo, it takes a year before people return to any semblance of normal. I am told that in a rather perverse manner is that radiation is the gift that keeps on giving in terms of after effects. I am at the six-month mark from diagnosis so here's that famous word again: PATIENCE. There really is not much we can plan on until the next PET scan. If the hot spots are gone, we hope to take a trip or two. If they are not, then we will do what we have always done which is to confront whatever comes are way.