Extreme Customer Service

I hope that everyone had a happy Thanksgiving.

The season of celebration and bustle that marks the arrival of high holy days for numerous religious denominations is upon us once again. I'm remembering more and more about how much Pittsburghers, like so many others across the country, are largely creatures of habit; Thanksgiving means family, turkey, and football, and with it the associated travel across the region or the nation.

The roads were not as busy with rush hour traffic on the way home from work Wednesday afternoon, but there was sufficient congestion caused by what seemed to be drivers appearing to be unfamiliar with the nuances of navigating the Pittsburgh area in a vehicle.

As those of us from this area know, finding your way through the Burgh can be as much an intuitive exercise as it is a cognitive one. These factors often confound the cool, electronic mind of the GPS receiver, and those wide-eyed, weary travelers who depend upon it.

That being said, be careful out there this weekend. Many of you will most likely be planning on attending services at the many temples of what I like to call The First Church of My Stuff.

In recent years the high priests and priestesses of the retail industry have elected to begin their convocation of cash earlier and earlier on their highest of holy days, Black Friday. Unfortunately, many of them ran out of zero-dark-thirty time to be the first to offer that bauble or gadget at a ridiculously low price.

As a result, some businesses are commencing their annual assault on the debit and credit accounts of consumers on Thanksgiving Day itself. Perhaps retailers are betting that the warm, fuzzy, comfortable feeling generated by the combination of l-trytophan and carbohydrates will help to set aside any trepidation about spending too much.

Caught in the middle of this morass of humanity are those who ply the retail trade - myself included - and those who are charged with answering requests for emergency assistance on holidays and every other day - hey, that's me too.

I'm working as a Cashier this weekend. Over the course of 2 years in 'big box' retail, I've been formulating some general rules based on my individual experiences, which those handling checkout duties can use to help them deal with the everyday realities of the profession:

Murphy's Laws of Retail Cashiering

1. The customer approaching your register will have their cell phone ring as they arrive, and will endeavor to carry on two independent conversations simultaneously.

2. The most time-consuming, complex, and/or tedious transaction will occur approximately 2 minutes before the end of your shift.

• A corollary to Rule 2- The customer involved with that transaction will have many questions, asked in an English that is for them a second language - a distant second.
  

3. The majority of legible UPC barcodes will be presented to you at an angle of between 180 and 359 degrees from the location of your scanning device. The remainder will be illegible or not in the SKU database.

4. The smallest items in a cart to be unloaded and scanned will be scattered randomly, and located underneath several sheets of cement board, plywood, drywall, or a combination of similarly sized and weighted goods.

Despite these challenges, in order to be successful in serving the customer you have to be prepared to calmly deal with all of these situations, and the numerous other complications that arise with the job. I've managed to deal with this kind of stress by remembering a few things:

• Each customer gets as much time and attention as they need - one at a time.

• The customer is not always right, but the customer is always the customer.
  

• It's not about life and death here. It's about stuff, plain and simple.

Of course, in my other job the last of these tenets doesn't apply. It can be about life and death - in many circumstances. There is one rule I know that applies very well:

Murphy's Law of Random Synchronicity
Emergency calls will randomly come in all at once.

I won't get into the debate about when to call 9-1-1 - the news media seems to have a handle on that - but there are some things that citizens can do to help 9-1-1 operators provide access to critical services as quickly as possible:

• First and foremost, know where you are. There are 130 municipalities in Allegheny County. A post office does not count in most cases - places like Wexford, Gibsonia, and Allison Park exist only in terms of where to send the mail.
  The Sewickley zip code (15143) is used in all or part of the following municipalities:
  Sewickley, Edgeworth, Glen Osborne, Sewickley Heights, Aleppo Township, Glenfield, Haysville, Sewickley Hills, Leet Township, Bell Acres, Franklin Park, and Ohio Township.
  Depending upon where you are and the services you need, there are six different places that could be involved in the process of delivering those services. The more you know and can provide to a call taker, the quicker they can be mobilized.
  Technology only goes so far, especially when using a wireless phone, or phone service that uses Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP), such as Vonage or Magic Jack.
  If you're on the road, know which road you're on. Try to remain cognizant of the last exit, mile marker, or intersection. Take note of businesses or other landmarks. If you have a GPS unit, know how to obtain your Latitude and Longitude from it.
  

• Stay calm and speak clearly.
  

• Be sure to listen carefully and answer all of the call taker’s questions to the best of your ability.

• Do not hang up until the 9-1-1 call taker has obtained all of the information that is needed.

Customer service in 9-1-1 also differs from the retail environment in that the greatest impediment to effective service delivery can often be the customers themselves. As a public safety communications professional, I have attempted, succeeded greatly, and at times failed to address these challenges to the satisfaction of customers, both internal and external.

I mention this because relationships with internal customers - co-workers, field personnel, and managers - are at least as important as the essential interaction with those external customers in need of services. That's a common challenge with any workplace, but even more so with the critical nature of public safety operations.

As the perceived demands of the holiday season begin to intrude upon us, I'm looking forward to remembering what this season really represents, along with the rigors of mastering an old job in a new setting, and hoping for success on the multiple fronts I've mentioned above. Above all of this is my wife and family, both here and across the country. Is it any wonder why the holidays carry with them more stress than joy for a lot of us?

Enjoy the weekend and the season ahead.

Life Springs Forward

McMillen Photography - Ed Hughes

And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

Happy April!

Our wedding was hectic in the planning and execution (as I guess most weddings are) all the way up to the ceremony. That, and the reception, went off without a hitch. Two days of rain showers followed by two inches of snow on Thursday evening gave way to sunshine on Saturday, and a tenuous glimpse of what is sure to be warmer days ahead.

The high spirits and well-wishes of those in attendance, combined with the happiness that was almost palpable between Leslie and I, made the wedding and events afterward almost one big, frenetic, happy blur. I missed having some people there to celebrate with me, most notably my son, but with life translating itself back toward a more normal pace I think it won't be long before we can share some good times together again.

We left the following day for a short week in the Florida Keys, and are getting back into something that seems more difficult for me, regardless of my familiarity with Leslie's house - acclimating into a routine. I have never been a dog owner in adult life, and walking Lilah has been a change in responsibility for me that I find a challenging, yet welcome one.

I am trying to get some other tasks accomplished associated with moving, and hope to get these done before starting work at one of the area Home Depot stores next week. They're telling me I'll get close to 40 hours a week during their busy part of the year, which is rapidly approaching save for the cold temperatures that seem to represent one last great act of defiance on the part of winter.

I'm starting this next chapter of my life with little expectations other than to reinforce the already strong bond I have with my wife, try to make a decent living, and get back to doing what I know best. Perhaps after all that is done I will have more time to get involved in things that I always wanted to do when I lived here before, but never had time. I intend to take things slow to start. Writing helps keep these things clearer in my head.

Leslie and I would like to send some well-deserved recognition toward some Pittsburgh-area businesses that serve what has to be termed the wedding and special event "industry". These local small businesses did an excellent job in providing outstanding customer service at a reasonable price. Those in the Pittsburgh area planning a wedding or other special event should give the following your consideration:

A Party Place Rentals, Ross Township

Carol's Cakes, Center Township

Janice's Catering, Ambridge

McMillen Photography, Waynesburg

Ziggy's Tuxedos, Suits, and DJ Service, Center Township

Enjoy the springtime..no April Fool. I think that we will enjoy one of those Pittsburgh traditions that I missed this time of year in Colorado - the Lenten Fish Fry.

Have a great weekend.

Focus on Felines

"Of all God's creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the lash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat."

- Mark Twain

I've been living with cats for over 25 years. I've written about some of them in the past, but I thought while I had a spare moment I'd introduce you to some others that I've been privileged to know , including one recent addition:

Meet Huxley

Evan had been looking for a kitten for a while, ever since Smokey left us. When a co-worker offered him one who had already been neutered and vaccinated, he jumped at the opportunity, and the brown tabby above has been residing with us for about a month now.

Huxley is pleasant and well-behaved for the most part. He and Bandit have had their moments, but nothing that we didn't expect. He is a kitten, right down to adventures with a laser pointer.

Huxley meets Bandit.

Huxley's favorite activity with me is to climb on top of the computer monitor when I'm working, then reach over and try to catch the cursor. I think that he represents my conscience when I'm on the computer too long. Lately he's discovered that my old CRT monitor gives off heat, and so he sleeps on top of it sometimes. He seems to want to be close to one of us most of his waking hours.

I like Huxley, but I will likely miss watching him grow up. Those priceless kitten videos need to be made..now.

In Memory: Miss Tilley

Tilley belonged to Leslie. She passed away on January 30 at roughly 15 years of age. Leslie had her from when she went to Vet school in Alabama. Tilley was small for an adult cat, with larger than usual ears and a very short, more demure and dignified stride.

Tilley and I got along, but it's Leslie's dog Lilah that seems to be missing her the most. Tilley would allow Lilah to play with her, and sit or lay next to her on the couch. The other cats are largely not of the disposition to be picking up that role, at least for now.

Surin

Surin belongs to one of my neighbors - I don't know which one. I don't even know his/her gender, just the name from the tag. Surin is some kind of Siamese mix, with a faint cream color and the signature blue eyes.

Surin is curious and friendly, and came into the house when invited once. Bandit sometimes chases Surin off, but he/she returns fairly often. We'll see how he/she reacts to Huxley.

Elle

Elle is another of Leslie's cats, is only about 2 or 3 years old, and while somewhat reminiscent of Huxley in appearance, can be friendly but is independent and mischievous. Lately Elle has grown quite a bit, which seems to have mellowed her out somewhat. This is a picture of Elle with Michaela a couple of years ago. Lilah is lonely without Tilley around, but Elle will have nothing to do with her.

Tommie

Tommie has been with Leslie for several years. He came to the clinic she was working at, and needed surgery for a blocked urethra. He's survived longer than most cats who have had that procedure, and seems to crave affection when he's not asserting his alpha male self with Elle or Lilah. He's a big boy, but not overweight. He can be a bit temperamental, but what guy wouldn't be in a houseful of girls? Just kidding...

"I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul."

- Jean Cocteau

One constant in my travels has been the presence of a cat. The only time that I haven't lived with one since 1984 was my first 5 months in Grand Junction. In this context I feel what Cocteau was feeling - a cat lends an elegantly sentient quality to what would otherwise be a lifeless space.

The Home Depot store in Grand Junction has a cat. Since I saw him, I don't think about the store the same way. His presence adds a unique quality to the corporate sameness of these kinds of places. It probably helps with the occasional bird or two that flies in as well.

Today begins a week of deliberation, sorting, discarding, cleaning, packing, and donating. I think about what I brought with me to Colorado nearly 16 years ago, and this time what will return east with me and what will remain behind until some undetermined time.

To go with the collection of inanimate objects on each end of the journey, there will be cats (and a dog or two) alongside the people that populate a space and give it life, meaning, and relevance.

Have a good week ahead.

Rocks and Hard Places - The Movie

Evan got back into town on Sunday morning, and that afternoon we headed over to the Regal to take in 127 Hours. We had been waiting, with varying degrees of patience, for this acclaimed independent film to arrive in Grand Junction, which is also where Aron Ralston arrived in May 2003 after amputating his own arm with a dull multi-tool to free himself from a boulder that had trapped him in Blue John Canyon near Moab, Utah. 127 Hours is the dramatization of Mr. Ralston's story, based on his book Between a Rock and a Hard Place.

I remember when this happened. The story started spreading around the GJ public safety community not long after Mr. Ralston was transferred here from Moab. The media picked up on it shortly thereafter, and soon there were satellite trucks in St. Mary's parking lot, and Mr. Ralston and his parents gave numerous interviews from outside the building. There's even a Pittsburgh connection to all of this; Mr. Ralston went to college at Carnegie-Mellon.

The film is excellent. A strong performance from James Franco as Ralston, and a solid script makes what is essentially the story of one man's struggle to free himself interesting and compelling throughout. A friend on Facebook saw something that I did as well; the depiction of Mr. Ralston's descent into near-delirium as dehydration and the other effects of his plight began to take their toll, and how this also represents a deconstruction of Mr. Ralston's character. This is especially evident as Mr. Ralston is depicted going through different stages of regret over becoming estranged from family members, losing a relationship, and most significantly not telling anyone where he was going.

For me, an essential message of the film was the need for and power of interdependence, even in the face of fierce independence and a solitary struggle for survival. I can identify with this because I've enjoyed being alone at times in my life, but always had someone to lean on when I needed to. Reaching out and connecting with others who care about you, even when it's perceptibly easier not to, can be difficult but is no less important to our well-being as individuals. I have yet to read Mr. Ralston's book, but it will probably end up in my pile before long.

The film was featured at this year's Telluride Film Festival, and opened on November 12th at the Mayan Theater in Denver, with Mr. Ralston present for questions and answers after the first showing. It took until the 24th to open in Grand Junction, and will open in Aspen (where Mr. Ralston lived at the time) this coming Friday. The film has yet to open in Moab, the closest populated area to where all this happened.

I guess that the economics of movie distribution don't always take into account the local interest that a film might generate, at least in the case of a smaller independent film like this one.

In any event, it was worth the wait. Hopefully it will stick at the Regal for a while.

Have a good evening.

I Am Not There

Michaela Aleasha Russo

November 15, 2001 - July 15, 2010

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight.

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there -- I do not die.

- Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)

Michaela Russo

Prayers For Michaela - The Road Home

Leetsdale, PA - As many of you know from either conversations with me or through several posts here, my fiancee Leslie has two daughters. The youngest, Michaela, has been fighting neuroblastoma, an aggressive cancer involving nerve cells, since December of 2005. Michaela has endured two major operations, stem cell and bone marrow transplants, extensive radiation and chemotherapy, and most recently some specialized radiation treatments in an attempt to arrest this disease.

When I left Pittsburgh around a month ago, Michaela was in the same general condition as when I had seen her in late March. She was still struggling with nausea and vomiting, resulting in a considerable loss of weight. At the same time she would also have good days, wanting to be more active, willing and able to hold down some of her favorite foods.

The big difference in Michaela's disposition was that she felt too weak to walk long distances. Leslie got her a portable wheelchair, which helped a great deal. In this photo Michaela is looking at a statue of a Triceratops covered with small toys, many of them dating from my childhood. I saw lots of green plastic army men in there..

Recent GI studies to attempt to ascertain the cause of Michaela's vomiting located a narrowing of one of the loops of her small intestine. Michaela's surgeon was hesitant to proceed without some additional nutritional support. With that plan in mind, Michaela checked into Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh in mid-May to begin Total Parenteral Nutrition (TPN), in hopes of building her up to a point where she could safely endure an exploratory procedure.
After admission, a CT Scan of Michaela's abdomen revealed extensive new tumor growth throughout.

After the scan, Michaela started having more difficulty with pain. Leslie and Michaela elected to go home with the TPN, pain meds, and hospice care. She has lost more weight in the past month.

Getting Michaela to and from Children's almost every day has been a difficult task for Leslie. Michaela has two portable IV pumps, and needs the wheelchair as well. Like any sick child, her patience is limited, and those around her can be subjected to the effects. Leslie is excelling in her role as a full-time caregiver, but is plainly exhausted by the end of the day.

On top of these harsh realities comes the stark realization that Michaela could soon lose her battle, and be called home.

Since I got back here last week, I've been helping with general household duties and assisting Leslie with the almost daily trips to Children's for radiation treatments, as well as occasional transfusions of blood or platelets. Michaela's body may be weakening, but her spirit and belief in God do not appear to have been shaken by her experiences in fighting cancer, and tolerating the treatment regimen that may be arguably as taxing on the body and spirit as the cancer itself.

I initially thought that being in Leslie's position in terms of having lost a loved one to cancer would help me understand things better, especially since both of us have teenagers that have also been affected by this illness. I find myself feeling at times inadequate to the task, primarily because I'm not here as much as I should be, but also because it's a child that is suffering.

This inadequacy may also be an extension of feelings that have affected my relationship with Leslie, related to distance, logistics, and bringing two families together through hardships past and present.

So I'm here to help, learn, adapt, and most importantly, love. As Michaela's struggle continues, so does the need to deal with medical and other expenses that have been steadily building up over the course of her illness and treatment. Those of you with the resources to assist in this area can send your donations to:

Michaela Russo Care Fund Trust

c/o Dollar Bank

P.O. Box 765

Pittsburgh, PA 15230-0765

Thanks very much, and have a good week ahead.

Fifty

I turned 50 years old yesterday. I spent most of the day with my son, who took me to dinner and bought me a nice cake. He's a great kid.

I spoke with Leslie at length yesterday; I do a lot of days. I miss her. It would have been nice to share my day with her as well. Her birthday is later this month, and I think I'll be able to make it to share it with her.

My 50th birthday seemed ironically familiar to my late wife's 50th birthday several years ago. That day at work was tinged with the pain of loss; a co-worker had been found dead. I left there emotionally exhausted, and picked up my family for dinner with several of Jan's friends.

Despite celebrating what has been a decent and fortunate life so far, my thoughts at times were away with her, even though she's been gone almost 3 years and I am moving forward with my life. My thoughts and prayers are also with fellow blogger Ralph D'Andrea and his family. Ralph's youngest daughter was found dead in her apartment last week. She was pregnant as well.

Ralph asked his readers and fellow bloggers for posts to keep things going, so I sent him one.
I think that I'll leave any further comment on that to those who knew and loved Carina.

Evan and I spent last evening watching the Oscars, which were somewhat enjoyable. I got the feeling that Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin were walking on comedic eggshells, afraid to say something really funny for fear of bruising some of the famously fragile egos in the audience. One thing that stuck out was a return to using the phrase "and the winner is...", instead of the more recent "and the Oscar goes to...". All except a radiantly defiant Kate Winslet used it in their presentations.

Aside from all that, I now know that I need to catch up on my movies. I wrested The Hurt Locker from the Redbox tonight.

Gene Kinsey dismissed the show as "Hollywood narcissism", and it's easy to find examples of that throughout what passes for entertainment. I tend to look for the diamonds in the rough, those who raise themselves even above the extraordinary to display grace and humility while basking in the limelight.

Considering all of the emotions I was feeling yesterday, I can think of no better way to conclude than with a portion of Sandra Bullock's acceptance speech last night. She thanked her mother for "reminding her daughters that there's no race, no religion, no class system, no color..no sexual orientation that makes us better than anyone else. We are all deserving of love".

Good night.

Travelogue of Hope

The bulk of the two weeks since my last post were spent away from Grand Junction, and while I tried to keep up with the goings-on here I was otherwise occupied most of the time.

The main purpose of the trip was to attend an evaluation session with caregivers for my brother-in-law Michael, who lives in a group home in Massachusetts. Mike shares a home, and attends a day rehabilitation program, with some people he has known for over 20 years. I took over the handling of Mike's affairs after Jan died, and part of this includes being out there at least once or twice a year to see how he's doing, and meet face-to-face and coordinate his needs with those overseeing his care. This includes staff from the state government.

I stopped in Pittsburgh on the way to spend some time with Leslie and the girls, with the intent of taking Leslie out for Valentine's Day. We wound up spending most of that day at Children's Hospital, where Leslie's daughter Michaela was eventually admitted for vomiting and back pain, some of which may or may not be consequences of her continuing fight against neuroblastoma.

I stayed with Leslie and Michaela in the hospital until Wednesday. There was a pull-out sleeping pad included as part of the small sofa apparently intended to accommodate two for such purposes. This only served to create my own back pain in places I had not experienced it before. So after the first night I slept sitting up, with one pillow filling the space between my back and the angle of the furniture, adopting what could best be described as an "airline-style" sleep position. It worked for those periods when nurses or aides weren't in to administer medications or otherwise do their jobs.

After flying to Boston and driving the 90 miles to Cape Cod, I attended the evaluation meeting the next morning, then stopped in at Mike's group home to meet some other staff and see how Mike's living arrangements were shaping up. I finished things up in time to get an evening flight back to Pittsburgh.

I brought Leslie and Michaela back home from the hospital the next day. We managed a very nice belated Valentine's dinner this past weekend, before yet another set of flights to arrive back in GJ just before midnight on Sunday.

I saw my mother a couple of times while I was there as well. I sent both her and Leslie a crank-up flashlight and radio, if only to help prepare for the next major snowstorm and/or power outage. Talk radio in Pittsburgh was still abuzz with the so-called shortcomings of the road crews, electric utilities, and anyone else not perceived to have done their best to deal with what was a significant weather event.

The snow still piled on the sides of many roads, and the ice accumulated on the sides of many houses, was an impressive sight. There are already concerns about flooding, should the Pittsburgh region experience temperatures and rain which would rapidly melt the over 40 inches of snow that fell there so far this month. I'm hopeful for a more controlled, steady runoff.

After returning I found myself trying to be hopeful for many other things as well. I'm hoping for an improving stability in my relationship with Leslie, and that the medical professionals caring for Michaela will be able to stem the tide of her cancer, and also reduce the new onset of back pain that has no etiology as of yet. Michaela returns to Philadelphia next week for follow-up to the radiation treatments she received in January.

I'm hoping that Mike will continue to improve in his ability to socialize appropriately with his housemates and others, and that his skills development will also improve with continued daily involvement in programs that are designed to do just that. Mike is hampered by an impaired short-term memory, one of the consequences of his head injury nearly two years ago. He does seem to recognize me and others that have known him a long time, but he likely does not remember my visit. I'm looking forward to monitoring his progress later in the year.

I'm hoping for change in several factors that seem to connect me to what feels like two parallel universes, both integral to my existence but disparate in the way my life is conducted while I am in them, or even thinking about them. Along with this is hope for acceptance of the choices I have made by those who still display some measure of discomfort about them.

Many of these hopes are decidedly uphill in their intent or desired outcome. Along with that hope is a need to commit myself in a greater sense to the fact that these things, like so many others, are really outside of my control, and all that I can do is learn to live in a way that honors God's plan for my life, as well as those who share my personal, working, and social existence.

Have a good week ahead.

Prayers For Michaela and Haiti - The Sum Of Light

Dialogue Between:

Billy Kwan, seasoned freelance photo-journalist based in Jakarta, Indonesia

Guy Hamilton, Journalist, neophyte, foreign correspondent from Australia

BILLY: And the people asked him, saying, what shall we do then?

GUY: What's that?

BILLY: It's from Luke, chapter three, verse ten. What then must we do? Tolstoy asked the same question. He wrote a book with that title. He got so upset about the poverty in Moscow that he went one night into the poorest section and just gave away all his money. You could do that now. Five American dollars would be a fortune to one of these people.

GUY: Wouldn't do any good, just be a drop in the ocean.

BILLY: Ahh, that's the same conclusion Tolstoy came to. I disagree.

GUY: Oh, what's your solution?

BILLY: Well, I support the view that you just don't think about the major issues. You do whatever you can about the misery that's in front of you. Add your light to the sum of light. You think that's naive, don't you?

GUY: Yep.

BILLY: It's alright, most journalists do.

GUY: We can't afford to get involved.

- From The Year of Living Dangerously (1982)

Denver - I was here to bask in the 50-degree heat before returning to the Grand Icebox, I mean Valley, tonight. I had a good interview today, but was kind of dismayed when on the way here the temperature in Vail was higher than it was in Grand Junction.

Combined with the inversion-induced haze largely obscuring Grand Mesa from town, the current weather in GJ reminds me of the surroundings at a structure fire on a cold winter evening. All of the snow and ice that collectively refuses to melt on the yards and streets seem to serve the same purpose as the output of hoses that freezes and accumulates on the sides of buildings, overhead wires and poles, dropping the temperature in the immediate area of the scene by at least 15 degrees. Now there's a possible reason for the City and County to get the ice off of the side streets; maybe it'll help warm things up.

Considering the futility of complaining about the weather, I want to start reflecting on some past blog topics by revisiting the struggle of my fiancee Leslie's youngest daughter, Michaela. Nearly two years ago I wrote about Michaela's fight with neuroblastoma, described in medical literature as "the most common extracranial solid cancer in children".

In February 2008, Michaela had surgery to remove a tumor in her chest cavity. Since that surgery, oncologists at Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh have used different standard combinations of chemotherapy and other drugs to try to keep the spread of tumor cells at bay. This included, most recently, enrolling Michaela in a clinical trial for an experimental medication that held promise in reducing the spread of these cells.

Monitoring the presence of neuroblastoma cells is aided by the use of what is called an MIBG scan. MIBG is a substance that binds to these cancer cells, and when combined with radioactive iodine will make them light up on a nuclear medicine scan.

Recently, additional small tumors were discovered again in Michaela's chest. This return of 'active disease' disqualified her from the clinical trial, and the doctors at CHP stated they had no other viable treatment options available at their facility. Leslie began searching for different appropriate treatments, and found one being done at only a few hospitals around the country.

This type of therapy involves using the same MIBG used to track the growth of neuroblastoma, but instead of just serving as a marker a different radioactive iodine is used to essentially deliver radiation treatments directly to the cancer cells.

Michaela had this procedure done today at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. She and Leslie will be in the oncology wing there until at least next Monday. Leslie was detailing to me today all of the protocols and precautions being taken for a patient treated with this type of radiation. This includes an isolation-type environment; Leslie must wear a dosimeter badge when in the room, to measure how much radiation she is being exposed to while caring for Michaela.
Michaela will go back home, and have follow-up care in March. It is hoped that all of this will slow or stop the tumor growth.

Michaela has been in the loop for all of the discussions about her care; Leslie makes sure that she is as informed as an 8-year-old can be. While we're all hopeful for some measure of success, the somber realization of what happens if it isn't has an unspoken presence in the lives of Michaela and those around her. Leslie has only been able to work sporadically while caring for Michaela; tangible support in many forms has come from neighbors, loved ones, Michaela's school classmates, and the community at large.

One day at a time, moving forward, keeping fear at bay.

The photo of Michaela above was taken this past October. She's a vibrant, curious child who deserves every chance she can possibly have at survival. Your addition to the sum of light in the form of prayers for success in her treatment are most appreciated.

Strip away the ignoble and miniscule scale of complaints about how cold it is in Grand Junction. Those of us who have had cancer in our lives know the personal pain and tragedy involved not only with addressing the needs of an ill loved one, but trying to maintain a stable existence in the meantime.

Superimpose over these personal trials the mass suffering in Haiti, and it's easy to see how one's heartstrings are tugged upon at varying and sundry degrees and amounts on a daily basis.

The snippet of screenplay at the top of this post is from one of my all-time favorite films. I have a hard time with those who have leveled complaints about the non-stop media coverage of the carnage in Haiti, as well as the comments made by the likes of Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh. A fair question here; if you aren't adding to the sum of light, are you contributing to the darkness?

Last night I added my tangible light to that gathering for Haiti, directly through the Red Cross website. I'll add those intangible thoughts and prayers as I make my way back to the Western Slope tonight, while I'm talking with Leslie when she takes a break. She can't use a cell phone when she's wearing her dosimeter - it affects the accuracy of the instrument. Isn't that special..

I hope that all of you reading this have some light to share, in whatever way you can.

Have a good evening.

Christmas Blessings 2009

Christmas this year was a quiet and enjoyable time. Evan and I spent the day at home. We are enjoying our not-so-quiet Christmas gifts to each other. Mine is an Ipod Nano, the first Apple device that I have owned. As I write this the player is shuffling through the 48 hours of music that I uploaded to it, so I get all manner of favorite stuff, from Metallica to John Denver to "Uf Dem Anger" from Carmina Burana. I'm on a Mexican Radio. Destiny's Child's "T-Shirt"- a gift from Leslie. Oh yeah.

We put luminaria out on Christmas Eve again this year. I found better candles this time, and they lasted all evening and well past midnight. I went to the 11 P.M. service at St. Matthew's Episcopal Church, a beautiful and joyous change of pace.

I made a turkey roast for dinner with stuffing, gravy, and green bean casserole. Evan just toasted two pieces of french bread with butter and honey. A simple snack to cap off a decent day.
What would make it complete is the company of the woman I love.

Hitting the road next week for Pittsburgh and other places. I hope that everyone had a blessed Christmas, and that wherever you are you will be safe and in the company of loved ones.

Have a great weekend.

Uganda On My Mind

This past week there has been extensive coverage in some media outlets and familiar blogs of the proposed law in Uganda outlawing homosexuality.

Outside of what has been reported, I don't know much about this. My interest in the country of Uganda and the continent of Africa has admittedly been anecdotal, and largely detached from the realities of life there.

I know, or know of, people who have lived in Africa that have recently returned, including Doug and Suzan Scott, Assemblies of God missionaries to South Africa, and former KREX reporter Kate Renner, who has returned from 3 months in Uganda under the auspices of Light Gives Heat, which is based in Western Colorado. One of my former neighbors in the Pittsburgh area is an Episcopal priest, currently serving as Vice Chancellor of Uganda Christian University.

It's heartening to see the level of commitment and faith necessary to engage in something like this. The recent controversy concerning this proposed law led me to think a little bit about the nature of the gay rights movement outside of the US, and the inherent conflict that results from the challenges to established institutions by those who seek to legitimize their sexual orientation. No religious institution has been impacted greater in this area than the Anglican church.

Outside of this particular denomination, the furor that resulted over the Uganda legislation has also touched several evangelical and otherwise conservative Christian leaders here in the US. Most notable among these is Pastor Rick Warren of Saddleback Church in California, known in part for his best-selling book "The Purpose-Driven Life". Pastor Warren issued a statement last week condemning the Ugandan legislation, and attempting to distance himself from the efforts of those that have been associated with him in the past. From the looks of it, Pastor Warren's contrition is not enough for many gay rights organizations that are still seething over his support of California's Proposition 8 last year.

By far the most comprehensive coverage from the mainstream media came from Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. Ms. Maddow, one of the few openly gay members of the MSM, and her staff not only delved into the involvement of American evangelicals in mentoring those in Uganda who have put their weight behind the proposed legislation, but also a group of Americans who believe that homosexuals can be converted to a heterosexual lifestyle, or stop identifying themselves as a member of the gay community. Ms. Maddow interviewed one such individual on her show; I don't think he was too pleased with the outcome.

As a human being, and therefore a sinner, I am not comfortable passing any kind of judgment on an individual based solely on their sexual orientation. I can also see the disdain in our society toward granting civil-rights status to a particular group of people based solely on what they choose to do behind closed doors with a consenting adult. This, to me, is just another consequence of fear without understanding.

Instead, I believe that we need to focus on the actions (or the lack thereof) of individuals in deciding for ourselves what we may think about them. Any number of us can find significant cause to doubt those who we may interact with daily. For me, that starts with the person I look at in the mirror every morning.

If we purport to live a life guided by faith, the tenets of many religions require that we look at our fellow man as God's children, equally deserving of love and compassion as much as anyone else. For Christians, there is plenty of scripture to support this.

The circumstances that we find ourselves or others in, and our level of responsiveness to others in time of need, helps to define who we are as individuals and as a community.

For those in Uganda that I will never know or understand properly, this attempt to label and vilify those first by the nature of who they are is unfortunate and wrong. Yesterday I read that the Ugandan parliament passed legislation outlawing the ritual practice of forced female circumcision. I'm hoping that this law, long overdue, is not just window dressing to try to appease certain people into believing that progress in one area equates to understanding in another.

This travesty is made even more of one when it has been spurned forward by the words and actions, both direct and indirect, of those in our own supposedly civilized country whose personal agendas here have been thwarted by common sense, the earthly rights conveyed to us and protected by our forefathers, and the influence of God's love in its purest form.

********

As it happens I have a lot of other things on my mind, not the least of which is Leslie's daughter Michaela, who as I write this is headed back to Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh with a lot of abdominal pain and vomiting. Your thoughts and prayers for comfort and healing, as well as strength for Leslie and her family as Michaela continues the fight against cancer that has taken up half of her young life, are greatly appreciated.

Along with other struggles that seem trivial in comparison to life in an impoverished African nation, or in a fight against a deadly disease, I am nonetheless feeling a sense of hope and understanding that appears to be gaining a foothold in the battle against fear that I struggle with far too often. I hope I can be an instrument of God's peace in the face of these differences and obstacles.

May the Lord's peace be with you as we celebrate His presence in many different ways this month. Have a good week ahead.

A Little Break in the Burgh

Greenwood Village / Centennial, CO - Took the Sunday night redeye last week from DIA to JFK, then a connection that got me to Pittsburgh by mid-morning on Monday. Now I'm back in Denver, getting ready to start school tomorrow and plot some potentially serious changes. More about that later.

Over the last week, I did not touch a computer or watch any live television. I did read a few newspapers and went through my e-mail on my cell phone. Other than that, I was largely removed from the "virtual" outside world, spending a lot of quality time with Leslie and her girls.

Pittsburgh has been an interesting place for the last few months. The upcoming G-20 Summit and its planning process have been the focal point of local government and emergency services since June. Part of this includes preparing for extensive and well-coordinated protest movement that plans to descend upon the city as well.

The visit was definitely something I needed, and not only because I miss her very much. My immersion in technology and information is at times not healthy, and being with her brings that point to bear in a very significant way.

We ate Greek food, went to one of the best farm markets anywhere, and enjoyed a double feature at the drive-in. I did a couple of repair projects for Leslie, and observed some of the things she has to deal with as a parent of a cancer kid.

Leslie's daughter Michaela, who I've written about previously, is now participating in the clinical trial of a cancer medication that appears to be impacting her tumors in a positive way. She receives the medication every three weeks; this is followed by one week of IV medications and fluids to address the biggest side effect of the medication, that being vomiting and dehydration.

Friday night was the first night of this one-week cycle. I watched as Leslie mixed three different medications with saline in three different syringes, each to be delivered over a 15 or 20 minute period via an infusion pump. She then has to put a bag of fluid on a different pump that is infused over 12 hours. Michaela carries this in a backpack when she is walking around.

This protocol, which includes other IV and oral medications during the day, appears to be working well; Michaela's episodes of vomiting have been drastically reduced. She is able to go to school. She wants to be a normal second grader, and is growing tired and frustrated with her illness and its effect on her ability to be active.

One thing that I find gratifying and somewhat humbling is that Michaela likes it when I am there. In the wake of the changes that our collectives lives have seen over the last few years, it feels to me that it is time to embrace that change a bit. That's what I'm starting this week.

I'll be taking a six-week course at the Jeppesen headquarters near Centennial Airport south of Denver to obtain my FAA Flight Dispatcher license. I hope to take this training and licensure and obtain a job somewhere within the aviation sector.

I'm keeping an open mind, have committed to maintaining a positive attitude that comes with any new venture, and am clearing my calendar and email in-boxes for the next few days to get acclimated to the routine. I plan to return to Grand Junction on the weekends, but will also try to take in some of my favorite things in Denver if I have time; the Rockies, Rapids, lots of movie choices and good Mediterranean food are a few of these.

I'll also be remaining active on this blog, if only to post observations at times, but I have several collections of ideas that will be out there, if more infrequent in their posting while I'm at school and afterward.

There's plenty going on out there that is relevant to both my past and future which I am heeding the call not only to write about, but to act upon. The woman I love, and the skills that I have been given, are both big action items in this scenario. How this evolves is the adventure that well-lived lives are made of.

Have a good week ahead.

Reflections on Father's Day

Working primarily evenings and nights as I am now that Evan is out of high school, I find it kind of futile to try to wind myself back around to the regular "day shift" routine, even when the weekend and the rest of your family and loved ones work or live on that clock.

So I was up until about 3:30 this morning, and then up again at 10 to go to church and try to make something of a sunny day in Western Colorado, which while normally in abundance have been a scarce commodity of late.

I got that little video of Save the Tomato done and posted, but also surfed the Sunday papers online. In today's Pittsburgh Post-Gazette I ran across something that raised my hackles a bit.

Today's story is the beginning of a two-part exploration of the reasons that lung cancer, to quote the story, "gets less research funding per death than any other major cancer". The story postulates that one of those subtle myths of society, like "social drinking isn't a problem" or "socialized medicine is a communist plot" has stymied the comparative search for a cure.
To wit:

Lung cancer "seems to be the focus of everyone's blame-the-victim mentality," says Dr. Jill Siegfried, a lung cancer scientist at the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute. "You can take another disease like heart disease that is equally caused by smoking, and nobody would say, 'Don't develop stents or bypasses.'

"For some reason, lung cancer seems to shoulder all the burden for our smoking-related guilt."

Dr. Joel Greenberger, another lung cancer researcher at the institute, believes the bias even extends to the National Institutes of Health, the primary federal funding agency for medical research.

"I think there's a kind of hidden agenda at the National Institutes of Health that because a majority of lung cancer is caused by smoking, that people kind of do this to themselves," he said. "There's a kind of punishment mentality -- and this could not be more wrong."

In case you're wondering how any of this ties into Father's Day, my role has a Father has been altered dramatically in the four years since my late wife's diagnosis, when it had been brushed off by at least one local physician as arthritis and had me insisting on an MRI at an out-of-town ER when she could barely walk, after the tumor in her lung had spread to and practically destroyed her first lumbar vertebra. In retrospect, the clinicians involved probably never considered the possibility of lung cancer because she didn't have a cough and never smoked.

Don't mistake this for anger - I've put all that aside in the two years since she left us, and am making strides to move on with my life now that our son is turning 18 soon and entering college. I'm just puzzled with the lack of emphasis on lung cancer research , especially on other, younger women who have been taken from their husbands and children. Jan became sick at about the time that Dana Reeve revealed her diagnosis. You'd think that we would start learning. Hopefully soon.

We in Grand Junction and Mesa County need to be extra diligent, given the presence of radioactive metals in our region, along with the reclamation of mill tailings from so many areas where they had been casually used as free fill dirt before the dangers of Radon gas became known.

Unfortunately, in the era of trying to make sure our children are protected from everything, that we anticipate every pitfall or problem that might befall them and try to mitigate it, the inevitable rebellious nature of our youth have driven them to the easiest ways to show us fathers and mothers that they'll do what they want. Cigarettes are a portion of the problem, but their insidious effects seem to be perpetuated within each generation. How do we effectively stem this tide?

I managed to shake my shift work schedule and morph into a Sunday-go-to-meetin' Dad, the first time in several weeks. I was eager to hear the message on Dad's day, and Pastor Paul Watson at the Downtown Vineyard didn't disappoint.

Paul's sermon challenged men to shake how society defines their success, and concentrate on how what they do reflects their relationship with God. This starts with something that I have been guilty of at times, that is finding self-esteem not in who I am, but what I do. This allows the avocation to become more important than a Godly vocation.

Paul also took time to recognize the increasing number of families touched by divorce and death, saying that "being a stepfather is an awesome opportunity to love and honor God".

He concluded with a simple but profound statement supported by Joshua 1:6-9:

"All men have challenges, but real men have courage."

I wondered after he had said this, the courage to do what? Eschew earthly pursuits for the direction that God is pointing you in? Listen and try to discern God's intent for your life, and put aside those fears and worries that are preventing you from proceeding in that direction?

This speaks a lot to the challenges I have before me this Father's Day. I am at a personal and professional crossroads, and feel the need to honor God by honoring my family, those I love, and the gifts that God has given me, with enough room for discernment and contemplation that the steps I am taking are the right ones.

With that in mind, there will likely be some changes in my personal life that will not please some people that care about me, and I them. I may embark on a path that complicates some lives and enhances others. All I can say at this point is I am bound to do what I've always done, which is to listen and learn, proceed cautiously, and move decisively.

I've always felt that God was mostly at the wheel of this particular ship of fate; if you had told me in the beginning of 1995 that two months later I would be living in Colorado before Father's Day, I'd have called you crazy. Save for the tribulations of illness and the pain of loss, things have worked out. I haven't always steered along the right path, but have been fortunate nonetheless to find the right road when it counted.

Before then and since, I've tried to be the best father, worker, and provider that I know how to be. Things fell into place, then fell apart. I'm getting better at keeping the pieces where they belong, and following the right set of directions for putting them back together again.

Have a great week ahead.

Mother's Day Weekend

Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers I know. Considering that this is also graduation week, that's quite a lot who I have known for a long time, from the time our children first walked into Kindergarten, onto the soccer field, or into their first meeting of Cub Scouts.

I'm fortunate to still have my mother, and she's come out to celebrate her only grandson's graduation. My brother and his wife will be joining us later this morning. We are going to treat my mother to a nice dinner and a glimpse of some of the unique scenery our area has to offer.

Evan has to work this Mother's Day, and although I wish he could join us I also have to let him assume this responsibility as his own, do what he can, deal with both the pleasantries and the drudgery of the working world, and let him learn his way. Despite the significant challenges of losing his mother, he's turned out to be a resourceful, resilient, and articulate young man, who I daresay is better prepared for some of this world's more difficult realities than perhaps some of his peers.

He's trying to get into Mesa State for the fall, and has a plan mapped out as far as what he wants to study. I have the means to help him out initially, but depending on how his plans and dreams shake out he may end up paying for some of his college education. That's not a bad thing in my mind; I think that he will learn and be ready for whatever gets thrown at him, or adapt quickly.
In a world like ours today, that ability is invaluable.

There are pink tulips and purple irises adorning my girlfriend Leslie's house today, and while she says she enjoys the flowers there is a reminder of the physical distance between us that the sentiment behind the flowers must somehow compensate for. I'm a better person with her close by. I miss you, baby.

It's been a busy weekend with relatives coming in from out of town and having to work on Saturday, but with the cool evening breezes tempering the heat of the mid-spring day, and the sound of good music wafting into the neighborhood from the festival downtown, I'm feeling pretty good about the days ahead, but a little empty as well for those who are not with us.
To absent friends...

To add to the quiet satisfaction is the triumph of the Penguins again last evening. One more win and they're halfway to the Stanley Cup. The first time they won it was in 1991, when two other things happened that I thought would not in my lifetime; that I would own a house, and have a child.

Despite the loss and disappointment over the last few years, I can truly say that I am blessed by the love of my family, including those who are far away. Thanks to all the moms out there; one way or another, we couldn't have got here without you.

Enjoy the day and the week ahead.

Remembering Tammy - Part 2

In the spring of 2006, about 4 months before I started this blog, my late wife Jan was fighting the lung cancer that would eventually take her from us about a year later. She wanted to spend part of the summer at our condominium on Cape Cod, but was fretting about the myriad issues surrounding air travel, especially with metal rods in her spine and a boxful of medications.

While thinking about the logistics of this, I arrived at the conclusion that this trip could be much more for Jan. With that in mind, I worked out a plan to drive the distance, taking our time to get there as much as possible, along a route that would allow us to spend time with as many of Jan's relatives and friends as we could.

While on the way we got to see parts of the country we had never seen before, and people that we had not seen face to face for many, many years. The trip remains a good memory during a tough time. I wrote about it at length in the Yahoo group that chronicles Jan's illness.

Tammy Martin and her family didn't have the opportunity to travel together this way. I've written about Tammy before, roughly a year ago when she lost her battle with ovarian and colon cancer.

Circumstance and the progression of her illness prevented a trip for Tammy, her husband Burke, and their two children from happening.

Today, Burke and the remainder of Tammy's family began an effort to see to it that adults facing a serious illness have the opportunity to travel or share special experiences with their families. The Tammy D. Martin Trips, Dreams, and Memories Foundation held the kick-off of their initiative, along with a tree dedication in Tammy's memory, today at Hawthorne Park. This coincided with what would have been Tammy's 39th birthday.

I stopped down and spoke with Burke, Tammy's mother, and two sisters. All seemed buoyed by the reception so far from the community at large, which included plenty of media attention, in particular a very nice story in yesterday's Sentinel.

Hopefully this will translate into a healthy beginning for the foundation, and the ability for them to fund trips of this nature for families in need.

My check is already in the mail. If there is space within your heart and your finances to help a local charitable effort with an identified need get off the ground, please consider it. I will keep a banner at the bottom of this blog page until the end of the month, to serve as a reminder and as a measure of support.

Thanks.