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O/T: Our health & lives

Joe Michaels

Diamond
Joined
Apr 3, 2004
Location
Shandaken, NY, USA
Paolo's posts about the unfortunate passing of Jeff G and his efforts to find new homes for Jeff G's machine tools prompt me to write this post. Experiences with my own health over the past few months have been life changing and brought me home to some very important points which may be of interest to the members here. In October of 202, I was seen on a 'well visit' by a new doctor. Our long time primary care doctor had retired, and she was always spot-on with her diagnosis and care. The new doctor was an untried entity. The new doctor reported that my blood work showed I was 'slightly anemic', and asked about my 'stools' (gross topic). She used the words 'black and tarry'. Being a literal engineer, I figured that meant having the appearance and consistency of roofing cement or asphalt. Since the stools did not fit my interpretation, I said 'no' and the doctor did not pursue the matter. At the same time, I had developed 'edema' (fluid retention) in my calves, which the doctor attributed to varicose veins, a product of years of standing on concrete and steel gratings. I wound up wearing compression stockings, and got on with my life.

In February of 2021, I began experiencing some loss of wind when doing the stairs in our house. I was also losing stamina and strength at what seemed a rapid rate. I rationalized this thinking it was due to less physical activity due to covid and winter weather. Things reached the point where, after doing a short burst of heavier work, I'd lose all strength and equilibrium. I had never felt so poorly in my life. The feeling was like I had turned into a piece of soggy tissue paper. After a really severe episode of this on President's Day, I called the medical group and got their service. Next morning, I convinced them to see me in the office. The office exam by a physician's assistant concluded I was severely anemic (based on turning down my lower eyelids), but vitals were good and strong. Blood was drawn for blood work. 6 Am the next morning, the medical group called: I was acutely anemic, in danger, and needed to get to the local hospital ER immediately. We did just that and I was admitted to the hospital and blood transfusions were started. By Friday, I was in good enough shape to undergo an endoscopy ('scoping from the top, down the esophagus) as the kind of 'bleed' I had experienced was thought to be in the upper gastrointestinal tract. A GI doctor I'd used came in and 'scoped me. I came out of the sedation to hear him tell me: "We found a large mass in your stomach... no idea what it is..." At that point, I was in disbelief and hollered at the doctor:
"When I crawl into a locomotive boiler for an internal inspection, I poke around, sound the steel with a hammer, take measurements, mark things up and make sketches... then the boilermakers get to work based on what I found and detailed. They cut out punky steel, cut and form and fit new plate and weld or rivet it in, and the boiler is back in service... can't you get a f---ing boilermaker to do the same for me ?" The doctor and his nurse were laughing and said they wished it were that simple.

Later that day, I had a CT scan, and this sized the 'mass' at around 12 cm, and also added the news that I had lesions on my liver. I went back to my room and laid there, and each person thru the door seemed to have bad news. On Sunday, the local oncologist (excellent reputation) arrived. He made a very grim prognosis, saying I had an advanced stomach cancer, and the only option was to implant a 'portal' in my jugular vein and start blasting with chemotherapy. That procedure was scheduled for the next morning. Next morning, I was wheeled down to the OR area and awaiting the procedure when the surgeon arrived and said: "Good news- you are not getting a portal". He stated that the biopsy from Friday's 'scoping had disclosed I had some type of cancer best treated with oral medication. At that point, I felt like a gust of fresh wind swept thru the room, and felt like I was lifted off the gurney and cradled and rocked. While religion and spirituality are not subjects for this 'board, I will sat I felt like God had intervened.

The local oncologist wasted no time in calling Sloan Kettering Cancer Research Hospital down in NYC, one of the best in the country. SK put a team of doctors on my case. The tumor I had was found to be 'G I S T', a gastrointestinal stromal tumor, quite rare with only 5-6000 new cases each year in the USA. It is treatable with targeted immune cell therapy drugs. My tumor was initially thought to be too big to be operable. However, the doctors at SK decided it needed to be removed. A department head who is an oncologist-surgeon took my case. He assessed me as a surgical risk, and said he'd operate. A man of few words, he drew sketches of the procedure on the paper on an examining table, same as I did at the powerplant to explain work. I was operated on on 15 March. The tumor was removed and my stomach wall resectioned (slight loss of capacity). My colon, spleen & distal pancreas had touched the tumor but not grown together. Colon was partially resectioned, distal pancreas trimmed, and spleen removed. 3 hours of surgery, with the surgeon spending nearly the first hour studying the situation once I was opened up.

I recuperated with one complication, which the surgeon had predicted- an accumulation of fluid build up against the exterior of my stomach wall. This is now draining via a temporary stent.

I am on a targeted immune cell therapy drug (Gleevec) and will need to be on it or some similar drug for the rest of my life. A CT scan done last week shows some promising results. We call it 'guarded optimism'.

What I want to pass along to our members is
-never take your health for granted, get regular checkups by a doctor you trust.

-if some symptom appears in your body, even if the doctor dismisses it, your body has usually got some underlying reason for that symptom manifesting itself. Read up
on it, and if need be, ask the doctor to look further with tests or get another doctor. The anemia and edema in my legs were all due to the cancer within me, but the
doctor dismissed things when I failed to recognize I had internal bleeding from my stools. A more thorough doctor would have picked up on the fact I had something
seriously wrong a lot earlier.

-If you are diagnosed with something beyond what a family practice doctor can treat, particularly something like cancer, get yourself hooked up with a Cancer Research
Hospital, or research hospital specializing in whatever your diagnosis is. You will receive the latest treatment, and you will be treated by doctors who specialize
in nothing but your condition. At SK, the surgeon had two 'research fellows' working with him, and they were already board certified surgeons. Not residents.
The oncologist on my case at SK specializes entirely in 'sarcoma' type cancers, which is what I have. He spoke of my life in 'years'. Quite reassuring.
-Set your affairs to rights. MY wife is wonderful. 2 years before I retired, my wife hooked us up with a financial planner. He has done right in managing our retirement monies, as well as determining what additional insurance we needed. My wife also found us an attorney to draw up wills, and since we have an adult daughter with autism, a 'special needs trust' was drawn up. All this was in place and working when my cancer arrived.

-Again, while this is not the place to discuss religion or spirituality, I found that having a strong belief in God and a religion made a world of difference and gave
me strength. While being wheeled to the OR for the surgery, I found myself wondering how and what I ought to be praying about. How does one pray for a lifetime of
deeds and misdeeds ? My wife had reminded me that I have a good name and am well regarded, and this thought came to me as I rolled along to the OR. Realizing one
can't square a lifetime of deeds and misdeeds in a few minutes, I rested with the knowledge that if I was well regarded, I could not be all bad.

I then said: "it's time to lay back, let SK's doctors and God take it from here." With that, I prayed asking God to keep a hand on things and thanking Him.
I found myself
reciting the "Lord's Prayer"- learned in public school back when kids were taught such things, not a prayer Jews normally say, but it felt right. Arriving at the
operating table, I helped slide onto it. As the anesthesia cranked up, I recited a prayer Jews say at extreme times and added the Hebrew for 'blessed is the Lord'.
I conked out feeling solid and good, and attribute faith and prayer to a large degree. When I came to my senses, I was in the recovery area, and hearing my name
spoken, my first words were the Hebrew for 'Blessed is the Lord'.

I found that basic faith and simple prayer have been quite a good and strong force in my course of treatment and recovery. Jews try to 'get right with God' each
year at the High Holidays. We atone for our past year's sins and ask to be 'inscribed and sealed in the book of life' for the new year. None of us knows what
is in store for us, and it comes down to a belief that God has a plan for each of us, and acceptance of that plan is something we have to try to do.
I found myself believing quite strongly in this, as seemingly God had stepped in moments before I was to have had that portal implanted, and a diagnosis of a
a treatable form of cancer resulted. Then came a seamless flow of events with Sloan Kettering. I found myself in the best possible place and the best possible
hands, and never took it for granted.

-Confront your mortality. Easier said than done, but as we age, we should confront our mortality with a realistic outlook. None of us knows how many years we will have or how our ends will come. Consider each day as a gift or blessing, use it wisely, and try to end each day such that you feel good about it. Leave each day with no
one taking issue with you or mad at you, and try to leave unfinished business in a reasonable place. Leave each day so that if you were not around in the morning, you would leave a good name.

I had spent the last couple of summers, part time, repairing the 100 yr old ornamental steel fence at our synagogue cemetery and built new vehicle access gates. Last summer, I brought my transit and we laid out the plot and section markers. We joked about my remains being carted through those gates and planted in a plot I'd laid out. Easy to joke about when you think you are in good health. Quite another matter when you have 'looked over the edge' as I have. However, knowing where my mortal remains will be planted takes a load of my family when that time comes, and I know I will be amongst old friends in our hills. You do not need your loved ones scrambling when your end comes to determine what to do with your mortal remains.

-Write up a listing of your possessions that goes beyond your formal will. List who gets what if there are special bequests. If you have a shop with machine tools or other heavy equipment, at least list someone who is knowledgable as to your shop or other equipment and ask them to handle the disposition, as Paolo is doing for the late Jeff G. If you are up for it, take a paint marker or some other means of labelling and label stuff in your shop so whomever is handling the disposition can make sure tooling for particular machine tools goes with them rather than being separated.

-make an effort to keep yourself in good physical condition. Regular exercise aside from physical work and eating right made all the difference for me. I came thru the surgery quite well. A few hours after surgery, the nurses had me sitting in a chair. I was cut from base of breastbone to 1" below my navel. Next day, I was waling the corridors of the hospital. Wife and a nurse were with me, me in a hospital gown with my butt hanging out and a urinary catheter and IV lines streaming off me. I knew it would be a long road back, but was so happy to be up and walking, I burst into singing "It's a Long Way to Tipperary" in the hospital corridors. People came into my room afterwards to tell me they LIKED my singing. On St. Patrick's Day, took a walk in the corridors singing "Danny Boy" in full voice, happy to be up and about. I've been warned umpteen times not to get right back to physical activity and work, though I am raring to go.

-be polite and respectful to ALL people you deal with in your treatment. I learned the names of everyone who came into my room, and found that they were warm, caring, and helpful. The staff at SK is normally warm, caring, compassionate and professional at a level far above our local hospital. Nevertheless, acknowledging the people who do the routine stuff like dumping the waste can or bringing you food goes a long way. You may be alone in a hospital room, wondering what the next move will be, or plainly scared or sad, and the staff- while not paid to deal with this- will if you are polite and nice to them. I speak from experience having had a few long nights in the hospital.

-Keep a positive mental outlook and stay strong, with the belief you CAN prevail over whatever your diagnosis may be. On a recent trip to SK for another CT scan, the nurse who started my IV was from Essen, Germany. I began kidding her in German about coming from the "Stahlgebiet' (steel district) and we had a good time. Afterwards, I found myself thinking about the 'Stahlgebiet', and took it as prophetic, reciting a new mantra: 'so stark wie Eisen und Stahl"- 'as strong as iron and steel'.
Keep yourselves mentally sharp, exercise your minds and bodies and do NOT ignore any new symptoms. Strength, faith, a positive outlook, and seeking the best medical care are the salient points I pass along here.

Paolo is to be commended for handling the disposition of the late Jeff G's shop assets. I share the view that it would be nice if as much of Jeff G's shop machine tools could be kept together, or go to people who knew him. Failing that, knowing the machine tools will go to people on this 'board who will make good use of them is a very good thing in itself. We all reach that point, and it is never to early to be prepared for at the various levels I have described. God willing, we all have long and happy lives and enjoy good health or a return to it.
 
Good luck to you sir, my grandmother got the news a month ago that she had 3 months left. Both grandfathers are long gone, time really flys by and I remember skipping class in HS like it was yesterday, now I’m wiping my 2 year old sons cheeks. You blink and time just disappears.

I alway ask friends/family “I want your immediate gut answer, how many days do you get in a lifetime? Most who answer say 100-150k days.

If you live to 80 it 29,200 days, my older brother lived to 27, he got 9855 days on this earth. It really does fly by so leave no regrets and no stones unturned
 
I’m very thankful you are getting through this Joe. No doubt your faith has helped you there. As someone you have helped personally and someone who greatly benefits from your posts I can certainly say you are well regarded in my book. I look forward to many more years of your posting here

Nathan
 
Glad you got thorough and (for the most part) competent care, Joe. My best to you, and I echo the wishes of others that we hear your voice for many, many more years.

Keep us up to date on how you're doing.
 
I have been made fun of for surviving cancer on this forum, and called a drug addict by "you know who" for having to use pain medication "Morphine" for a couple of years to get through the chemo and surgeries.
That and other issues from one or more individuals here, make this forum an extreme hostile environment for me.
Surviving such a thing certainly changed my overall outlook. One good thing happened lately, I was kicked out of the cancer program.
I hope they kick you out of the program too!
 
My father had bladder cancer- chemo then surgery, he has a bag now, but up and about, still running his observatories and splitting wood. Not like he used to 20yrs ago, but if you can split enough wood to fill a wagon then take it to the house at 80 they you're doing well. The bag is cumbersome, but he has learned his way around it as well as he can.

Tell you what inspires me; a couple years ago my daughter was getting infusions to treat her crohns (happily now remission for about a year and a half). We asked about the bell on the wall, its for the kids who get thru their chemo and are clear; they get to ring it on the way out.
 
Good call going to MSKCC, top flight folks. You missed seeing my mom there (oncology nurse) by a dozen years or so. You would have gotten along.

Stay strong and be well.

Jim
 
My father had bladder cancer- chemo then surgery, he has a bag now, but up and about, still running his observatories and splitting wood. Not like he used to 20yrs ago, but if you can split enough wood to fill a wagon then take it to the house at 80 they you're doing well. The bag is cumbersome, but he has learned his way around it as well as he can.

Tell you what inspires me; a couple years ago my daughter was getting infusions to treat her crohns (happily now remission for about a year and a half). We asked about the bell on the wall, its for the kids who get thru their chemo and are clear; they get to ring it on the way out.

My little brother rang that bell in 2019 after his run with Leukemia.
He *may or may not have* got cancer from painting military aircraft parts at CTL aerospace, the reducers and chemicals in general came in containers with all kinds of warnings all over them.

They ended up firing him.

*legal disclaimer*
 
Speaking of tools and Jeff, I knew him for quite a while. I visited him last fall when things were getting bad. He gave me a nice old Boston ships clock and his Ashley knots book.. clock is on the shop wall, ringing bells. I long coveted his Starrett 98-12 level, which I have now.. but I'd rather he was here.
 
Hello Joe, I had been wondering about you since I had not seen any recent posts. I have always greatly enjoyed your stories about various events in your life and hope that you are truly on the mend and have many more productive years with your family. I know it might sound corny, but I have found inspiration in a lot of your writing and i thank you for it. Regards, Jim
 
Joe -

Like Jim said above I had noticed you had not posted in a bit, but figured you had just gotten busy - but not fighting cancer.

Hang in there. Although of a different 'persuasion' I can definitely understand your faith being a large part of your life and outlook - and I'll be pulling for you from my side of the house as far a prayer goes. I've been to some different places in the world with chaplains of different persuasions - and always found out we're more alike than different. We are all human.

Good thing your doc was not like a few I know - probably would have taken your comment to heart and told you he'd rivet your insides back together. But then most all of us who wore a uniform have a sick sense of humor at times, a way to keep sanity it seems.

Keep getting that good care and let us know how you are doing. You have many chapters in your book yet to write.

Dale

PS - Those slide rule engineers of us of a certain age who can actually also work with our hands have to keep going. Who the hell else is going to keep this place straight?
 
Joe,

Glad you're back and doing well. Thanks for sharing such a deeply personal experience so that we may all benefit from the resulting insights. Hang in there and stay positive. It sounds like you've got good reason to remain so.

Mark
 
My little brother rang that bell in 2019 after his run with Leukemia.
He *may or may not have* got cancer from painting military aircraft parts at CTL aerospace, the reducers and chemicals in general came in containers with all kinds of warnings all over them.

They ended up firing him.

*legal disclaimer*


My youngest brother died of cutaneous T-cell lymphoma. Fought it 14 years. He painted aircraft in the Air Force. This was in the 70s. He told me they had no PPE other than a cartridge mask. They did it in a T shirt or no shirt to preserve their uniforms. They cleaned up by washing up with a bucket of MEK or toluene. The VA said it was not service connected.
 
My youngest brother died of cutaneous T-cell lymphoma. Fought it 14 years. He painted aircraft in the Air Force. This was in the 70s. He told me they had no PPE other than a cartridge mask. They did it in a T shirt or no shirt to preserve their uniforms. They cleaned up by washing up with a bucket of MEK or toluene. The VA said it was not service connected.

My condolences brother. How old was he?

My brother used MEK (and another like mec or something) every day there. They had ppe but as usual safer=slower and that’s a lose/lose Situation.

Wanna know what really pissed me off?

When he started to get sick they did a random drug screen and he pissed clean yet they said the temp was out of range so they failed him and fired him, he didn’t pee dirty.

Their lawyers mailed a packet 20Lbs thick of all the rules and regulations on how he pretty much HAD too have of violated something.

They had good lawyers.

The cancer doctor said personally he believes the cancer is from exposure at that job without a doubt
 
Joe,
My own personal medical issues pale in comparison to yours, or my brother's, currently fighting bladder cancer.
As I age, quickly it seems, I reflect back on my grandpa's 101 1/2 years and how little I was able to hear of it all.
We should have sat down with a tape recorder and had him just talk.
My collection of ancient artifacts may appear to most as simply scrapman fodder, but the history and stories that each can tell are important, not only to me but to the objects.
I am the documented 3rd or 4th owner of several objects of 90 to 130 or more years but do not have those documents in order.

A friend, nearing 80, has spent a great deal of time in his interest in an odd historical mechanism and has knowledge and documents that NEED to be published in a book.
But he doesn't want to do it....

Joe, I have enjoyed your long written posts and they have been a great inspiration to my brother, as he fights a similar battle and our interests with ancient machinery and ancient motocycles are common.

When this pandemic mess is over, I'd like to share a meal with you and my brother on one of my trips East.

Not only for our pleasure in hearing your stories in person, but to encourage you to...

Write The Book.

Be well.

Mike
 








 
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