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.