Topless

written Sunday, 27 August 2017

We drove back from Dickinson this morning, put the top down in Sturgis and drove down US 385 to Custer, through Deadwood... and caught the end of Cool Deadwood Nights car show. Great fun pulling up next to a great looking hotrod. The day was perfect for being topless, partly cloudy sky and perfect temperature. We really enjoyed the wind through our hair.

We were in Dickinson for a judo seminar, a promotion exam and party.

I think about judo most of the time when I am not engaged in something else and every night before I go to sleep. This seminar gave me an opportunity to stretch my judo legs a bit and see if what I had been thinking about was anchored in reality or drifting in fantasy. And to test my physical condition.

My recent judo research has been about the Gokyo no Waza (a matrix of judo techniques) as a teaching syllabus. I learned of this from Steven Cunningham sensei initially and continued to develop it in the class room/mat at NDSU/Red River Judo (for about 20 years). With the retirement of Steven Cunningham from judo I am one of only a couple of people in the world who is researching/using the Gokyo no Waza as a training syllabus.

So this weekend I had an opportunity to present some of what I have been thinking about. We did 14 techniques (of 40) in 2 ½ hours, which as it turned out, was not rushing things nor being slow either. The students varied in experience, from green belts with a year of experience to black belts with 20 plus years of experience. It was a very satisfying seminar, the beginners were challenged and successful, at the same time appealing to the curiosity of the most advanced students.

Jeff Ficek, one of the head sensei for the Dickinson, Roughrider Judo Club was taking direction from my wife Carol sitting on the sidelines, trying her best to make sure I wasn't getting too tired. This was my first judo outing since surgery, radiation and chemotherapy and Carol didn't want me to over do it. I pushed a little bit, but the schedule and with my wife's vigilance, the pace was just perfect. I got a bit of a sweat and my leg muscles were plenty sore the next morning – I felt like I got a great workout. Carol said I was in my element.

We did a promotion exam in the morning which required me to sit down for 30 minutes. In the afternoon I taught 5 techniques, then we did another part of the promotion exam, and then I taught four more techniques.

Congratulations to “Pineapple” Dave on promotion to nikyu (2^nd brown belt), Steve on promotion to ikkyu (1^st brown belt) and Ryan on promotion to shodan (1^st degree black belt).

Special thanks to uke (the person who gets thrown) Jeremy Magelky for taking hundreds of falls, you make me look great, man!!!! It was great practicing with you again! Also great to see David, Erik, Jeremy, Clint and Vini from the Fargo Dojo, and Steve from the Bismark Dojo. What a wonderful day.

The social was at Jeff and Ruth Ficek's home. Great food as always, handmade by loving hands. Great company. The hospitality was fabulous. Feeling much love. Many thanks to all who made the day possible, you are the best. Thanks Mark Larson sensei for the glass of sake through David Scott.

Love to all,

Van

Opps! I meant to do that.

One of my martial arts friends posted a picture of him practicing with a katana, a Japanese sword, in his living room. Reminded me of the many times I did the same.

Training! To learn you must practice and when there was no place else I would move the furniture and practice in the living room - I did this at least a hundred times... with a wood sword, with a practice swords and at times with real steel.

I tried to be careful, that is the goal of discipline but at times my enthusiasm got the best of me and something got hit. I put a couple of dents in the ceiling and wall. Cut into a lamp shade once with a real sword... opps, I wasn't married at the time so didn't have to admit that to anyone.

There are two great stories about swords in the living room, the first was in the early 1980s. It was mid summer, a Saturday, a warm day, all the windows were open and the light drapes floated in the breeze. I was wearing a light cotton yukata with shorts, summer wear in Japan. I had just purchased a real Japanese sword, a gunto, a sword manufactured in the 1940s for use by officers during World War II just a few days previous. I had the sword on a low coffee table and had sword books spread across the table. I had a notebook with notes about the length of the various components and the various features.

And there comes a knock, knock, knock, on the screen door.

I get up and walk barefoot to the door, there standing a young man, well dressed with a brief case. He says he is an insurance salesman. I try to dismiss him, but he is persistent so I give in and invite him in. I invite him to sit down on the sofa and I walk over on the other side of the coffee table and kneel down Japanese style, which I sit in quite normally. The young salesman begins his canned lecture about the different kinds of accident insurance that he had for sale: there was a silver, gold and platinum plan. As he talked he was simultaneously looking over the sword, the books, the notes, my clothing and was getting more anxious by the second. He asked, “is that a real sword?” with a wavering voice.  I replied, “yes”. “Do you know how to use that sword?” I replied, “yes”. He was tittering, not sure what he was saying, repeating himself, laughing strangely. He really looked like he wanted to leave. I thanked him for his time, he looked relieved to be dismissed, I showed him to the door. I think he peed on the gate post or left some other message because I didn't get another salesman at my door for decades.

But the best story happened one evening during the fall when Brittany was 16 or 17 years of age. Her mother and I were divorced and she was at her mother's house this day. I was practicing with a mugito, a zinc practice sword, looks for all like a real sword, it is dangerous but not dangerous,  not sharp, like a real sword. There is a groove along both sides of the blade that makes a most satisfying swoosh when it is swung in a proper manner.

I had moved the furniture and had been practicing for the better part of an hour, hundreds of cuts, my t-shirt was soaked with sweat and I am breathing hard. I hear the front door open and am aware of my daughter, she has seen me train many times and knows that I will acknowledge her as I complete the current drill. So I continued to focus on the drill set I was working on... from a kneeling position, draw, overhead cut with a satisfying swoosh, chiburi (ceremoniously remove the blood), rise to standing, and re-sheath the blade.... I turn around and face my daughter, she is with another girl and two boys, standing there deathly quiet, pretty much holding their breath, you could just see the amazement in their eyes. I know that went around school... kind of like meeting the daughter's date with a shotgun! Priceless.

Uncle Roger

20 March 2017

While driving across Wyoming this morning, I got a telephone call from my Uncle Roger.
Roger, my mother's bother, is eight years my senior so he was more like an older brother than an uncle.

One day, when I was 12, Roger and I were going back out to the field, don't remember what he was doing, but I remember well when he shifted the 1949 International KB2 pickup into “super low”, opened the door, slid across the seat and stood on the running board, pulling me across the seat with him, into the driver's position. I had to look through the steering wheel to see over the dashboard. Roger instructed me to use only the gas pedal and drive around the field, he closed the door and stepped off the running board... the pickup was idling in super low, it had to be going all of 2 miles an hour. I stepped on the gas and the truck would lurch forward, which would throw me back in the seat, and my foot would come off the accelerator, and the truck would lurch back to 2 miles an hour, only seconds later I would be recoiled forward by the seat's rusty, bare springs, mashing down on the gas pedal as the truck lurched forward, only to be thrown back into the seat again and repeat, over and over again. Adding to my poor control of the accelerator, the field was quite bumpy and had a dead furrow running down the middle. The lurching motion would get so bad that I would have to take my foot off the accelerator for fear of being thrown through the windshield. Kind of like shaking a marble in a tin can. Only to try again and again. I drove around the field for an hour before I figured out how to control my foot on the accelerator. It had to be hilarious to watch.

After that Roger taught me, over the years, how to operate the tractor, how to use a plow, disc, field cultivator, how to lay a land (you start plowing in the middle of the field so you have to eyeball a straight line to the opposite side of the field, typically a half mile, it was high art and if you did it well you were well respected by other farmers.) I learned how to cut hay, rake hay, operate a baler (I wasn't much good at stacking bales, most were heavier than I was), and use a Farmall stacker (one of my favorite jobs). I learned how to tell when the wheat was ready to swath and how to roll the swath with a side delivery rake when it was too wet to combine. I learned how to operate a combine and haul grain. It was a tremendous education and Roger was a patient teacher. I still love farming and have tremendous respect for those who turn the soil.

I learned a strong work ethic from Roger. He was (is) an outstanding individual, always looking for the brighter side of any situation. He always stood up for his fellow man and never had a harsh word. He has the greatest sense of humor and always had a joke. I was truly lucky to spend so many summers with my Uncle. When I got in the Army I needed the moral sense that Roger taught me.
So Roger calling me today really made my day, thanks Roger Hill you are the best! Glad I can share what you taught me with others.

NOTE:  this was written on the 20th of March,  2017.  That day I was driving to Denver to have an operation to remove my right lung.  Carol and our daughter Kristen were driving in another car.  So the call really picked up my spirits.

Love, Van

the New Normal

26 July 2017

I went rock climbing with dear friend Mark Strege this morning in Chopping Block, a climbing area behind Mount Rushmore.  This is the first time I have been climbing in about a year.  Last year in August I tore a rotator cuff in my shoulder and had to take a break for it to heal and then in January got slapped by cancer.  Finally decided it had been too long.

I got to the Wrinkled Rock Climbing Area early and a young man from Wisconsin stopped by and asked if I was a local and I said yes.  He and some friends had been on a two week long climbing trip that included Devil's Tower, Ten Sleep and the Big Horns.  He wanted to know if there were some frictiony, slabby 5.11s in the area.  I told him I was sure that there were some but 5.11 was out of my range but that my friend Mark climbed in that range and would be able to help him and his friends.  I told him to come back when Mark had arrived.

Mark arrived a few minutes later and the young man came back and Mark gave him some good beta on half a dozen great climbs in the 5.11 range of difficulty.

Then Mark and I strapped on our packs and made our way across the highway and up the path to a rock called North Park.  I should mention for those who are not familiar, that this climbing area is right behind  Mount Rushmore, we are about a mile away from the faces.

Mark was walking slowly, turning around to visit every few feet and I was coughing up a storm and breathing hard.  Last year this would have been a walk in the park, I have lost a lot of conditioning, I am guessing that I am about 25% of what I was a year ago.  Truth to be told, it sucks, but as my dear wife Carol reminds me, it is the NEW NORMAL.  Thank goodness it was a short hike and we were at our destination in about 5 minutes and I was breathing like a steam locomotive.

Happy to not have to hike another step I took off my pack, and still breathing hard, started to sort through the pack for the essentials: harness, chalk bag and shoes.  It took me 10 minutes to catch my breath.

Mark lead the first climb, Beyond Beauty, a 5.6 degree of difficulty.  This degree of difficulty is where we start beginners.  So it was a nice and easy climb, still pretty much vertical <grin> but easy.  Mark got easily to the top, I belayed from the bottom, and Mark came down on a single rope rapel.   This left the quick draws hanging from the bolts, so it was my job, climbing second to remove the quick draws and carry them to the top of the climb.

I got my shoes on and the rope tied to my harness and Mark got the other end of the rope attached to his belay device, which was attached to his harness.  Mark said, "on belay" and I said, "climbing" and I was off on another mad adventure on the rock.  I had lead this climb many times so it wasn't particularly difficult, except for the noticeable lack of "wind", I was breathing heavy after only a few feet... that "new normal" again.  By the time I made it to the top of the rock I was breathing hard and fast, completely out of breath but happy once again to be back on the rock.

I came down on a two rope rapel and we set up an adjacent climb that uses the same anchors at the top of the rock.  This climb, "Balls and Braun", is a 5.7, just a bit more difficult than the previous climb and it was unbolted, so it has been climbed much less, and best of all, I had not ever climbed it before.  As it was unbolted, we would have to climb it using a technique called "top rope", where the rope runs up to the anchors, it is also the safest way to climb rock.  There is an interesting bulge about midway up the rock, I suppose about 30 feet off the ground, that we have to go over.  Of course, Mark makes it look easy.

Then it was my turn, I put my climbing shoes back on and got tied in, Mark and I said the appropriate words, "on belay" and "climbing" and I was off on another mad adventure up the rock.  This section of rock was a bit more vertical and in my face but the hand holds and footwork were good.  By the time I got to the bulge I was breathing like a steam locomotive again so I hung on the rope for a few minutes to catch my breath.  When you have the bulge in front of you, you are pushed backwards over your feet, it is an odd feeling, but there are a couple of good holds in the rock, one in a large crack and the other, up and to the left is a big knob.  I moved my feet up and pushed my body away from the rock with my left foot, giving me enough room to place my right foot on the rock at hip height, then a pull of the hands and my body rotated around my right foot and up I went.  From there the climb was much easier and in a few minutes I was at the anchors at the top of the rock.

It was a great morning!!!!  Thanks Mark Strege.

50 year High School Reunion – Class of 1967

We made it!

On Wednesday we didn't know if we were going to make it to the reunion. I started chemotherapy on Friday the 7^th of July and we had no idea how I was going to react to the chemotherapy drugs. My oncologist said I would feel like I was hungover, our family doctor said that it was a sliding scale and some people get very ill.

I got very ill. I slept most of the day on Monday and Tuesday. I felt a bit better on Wednesday so we decided to drive half way, to Pierre and make a decision on Thursday morning, if there was no change we would return to Custer but if I felt better we would continue on to Fargo. We continued on to Fargo.

The reunion was scheduled for 3 days, Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning. Considering the chemotherapy drugs compromise the immune system we decided to attend only one evening and leave before I got fatigued, we looked over the schedule of events and decided that Saturday evening looked more interesting.

The party was at El Zagel, the club house of the Shrine organization in Fargo. It was built in the late 1960s if I recall correctly,  when they tore down the old Shriner building in downtown Fargo, I was in DeMolay at the time. El Zagel is a great place for a party.

We got there early, got registered and got a drink, said hello to Paul Meyers. The place looked very festive!  We looked over a display of photographs taken by George Schatz and news clippings that he and his mother had saved, there were hundreds of pictures as George was the yearbook photographer. George reminded me that we had both been in DeMolay during high school and he shared a couple of interesting stories.

Carol and I found a spot to sit down and watch people for a while. No sooner had we sat down

Terry sitting on the ice.

I saw Terry Miller. Terry and I had done a fair amount of SCUBA diving together, some of it chopping holes in the ice and diving under the ice. There were some interesting stories about that.

About that time Tim Berreth walked up and joined the conversation. Tim and I were study partners while we were engineering students at NDSU. Tim was also a SCUBA diver.  When he was in the Air Force he was flying a supply route to Vietnam and visited me twice when I was stationed in Okinawa. And we kept in contact throughout the years.

Dave Anderson walked by and visited for a few minutes.

 

And the evening kind of progressed like that...

I spoke with Stella Coser our exchange student from Brazil, Ann Koslofsky, Terry Slinde, Carol Nelson, and Chuck Stanton.

Got to speak with my old neighbors: Janice Rorvig, Dave Knodel, and Barb Moorhead.

BBQ was provided by Famous Dave's and was very tasty.  Tim Berreth joined us for supper.

During supper Paul Meyers and Merrill Piepkorn were MCs. My name was drawn out of a hat for a gift. On the way to the stage I began to get anxious and when Merrill put the microphone in front of me, with the question, "what is so great about Custer", I blurted out, “nobody lives there.” I wish my anxiety would leave me alone for a day. I could have said, “the rock climbing is great”, or “during the off tourist season it is very quiet and serene there", or "it is close to heaven."  I got back to my seat and my knees literally shook for 20 minutes. Reminded me of the panic attacks I had during Ted Larson's speech classes in the 9^th grade, I hated that class.

After supper the program continued with speeches from our class valedictorian, Shirley Olson Flittie

and class president, Stanley Grimm. Stanley is just as funny as ever. At the end of the program the group got together for the class picture.

I was getting tired and figured we should excuse ourselves in about 30 minutes, I wanted to say hello to a few more people. I visited with Gray Doffin, Stanley Grimm, Jan Byhoffer, Carol Lageson Seim. Then I caught up with Shiela Berg, Shiela was my angel when I was in high school, and I told her so. She always had a wonderful smile and a pleasant word that caused the sun to shine into my wretched life (I struggled with severe anxiety and depression) if just for a minute. I missed some people, sorry, I just ran out of energy.

On our way out the door I spied Nancy Willson and gave her a big hug and thanked for her many kind words on Facebook.

Tim Berreth walked us out to the parking lot and we chatted for 15 minutes more, promising to get together sometime in the next year.

Many thanks to Paul Meyers and the Reunion Team for putting on an awesome party.

I would say, "see you next time", but I doubt that I will be here for the next reunion. If I am not please “lift one for me”.

And if you are in the Black Hills of South Dakota, please look us up in Custer. We are in the phone book.  We always have the coffee pot on. And we love to share our love of the area with others, it is a beautiful part of the country. We have three seasons here, tourists with kids during the summer, it is a busy time of the year; newly weds and nearly deads in the fall (which is one of the best times to visit the Hills as far as I am concerned); and winter/spring, when the snow birds leave and “there is no one here!” (Winters are mild in Custer, snows don't usually hang around for long, unlike Fargo where the snow that falls in November is still on the ground in April, and temperatures are typically 20 degrees warmer than Fargo.  And if you want to try rock climbing, that could be arranged too.

Love to all,

Van

Flush Twice

Cancer Sucks!

Cancer is a mind fuck.  It fucks with your emotions.  Knowing that you are going to die in some period of time is hard to stomach.  It takes me 3 days to come around from that kind of news... and them I am back to normal.  It also fucks with your schedule, Carol and I have been back and forth, 100 miles round trip, to Rapid City Cancer Center, a good 50 days since the beginning of the year, we also made two trips to Denver, to National Jewish Health, 3 weeks and one weekend... cancer, it is time consuming.

When you go through cancer it is important to have a support team.  I like that Facebook provides ease of contact with old and new friends, a forum to share information about my fight and how important you all are in my life.  My mother's second husband, Bob, died of lung cancer.  He wrote a poem, that when I find a copy, I will share with all of you, entitled "I would rather have cancer" as opposed to dying from a heart attach, as he would have time to talk to each of his friends, to tell them how much they meant to him.  Friends, I want you to know that your comments are unbelievably uplifting.  I encourage you to keep in contact with your friends who are fighting health issues, you will be a blessing to them too.

I had my first chemo therapy treatment yesterday, the 7th of July.  I tolerated the treatment well.

I have to admit that I was pretty apprehensive about the procedure.  My luck on this journey has not been stellar.  I didn't qualify for treatments based on genomic structure of the cancer: ALK or EGFR-1.  The ALK and EGFR-1 treatments are very specific to a mutation of the gene structure in the cancer and are very effective and have very few side effects.  The treatment plan I am engaged in is a more standard chemotherapy.  The chemicals that are being used are for lack of a better word are poisons (cytotoxic) and many people have adverse reactions to the process.  I didn't.

I share this medical anthology to raise awareness about how we deal with health issues like cancer.  I found, when I began this journey that people don't like to talk about this kind of stuff (I avoided it myself) and they really should be less hesitant about the subject.  My religion requires that "my private life is my public life" and so I am comfortable sharing this with you, if one person is educated, I have contributed to the Karma of man. 

The Rapid City Hospital Cancer Care Center is a very nice facility, fairly new, well maintained, the building is pleasantly decorated and comfortable.  The staff is wonderful, courteous, well trained and has a pleasant sense of humor... they are all very special people.

The chemo treatment area consists of about a dozen rooms that face a central nurses station.  Each room has either a bed or a recliner, my room had a recliner, and a comfortable chair for a family member or friend, a couple of stools for the staff, a desk and a TV.  There are 3 bathrooms reserved for cancer patients, and other bathrooms for guests and staff.  The chemotherapy drugs are strong poisons and the hospital doesn't want non-cancer patients exposed to the drugs, for their safety.  We were told that at home, that the patient should flush the toilet twice to get rid of the chemicals expressed while pooping and peeing. 

Our nurse informed Carol and I that there should be no smooching or other hanky-panky for 3 days until the chemicals are gone from my body. 

Generally:
Don't go out in the sun, cover up, wear a hat and SPF 15 sun block.  Pretty much standard procedure.
No aspirin or Ibuprofen.  No problem here, I haven't used a bottle in 67 years.
Wash hands often.  I put a Purell hand sanitizer in my pocket this morning.
Avoid crowds and/or people not feeling well.  I will wear a mask.  I am planning to attend my 50th class reunion this summer.
Any sign of infection, seek medical attention immediately.  You will likely be admitted to the hospital for a few days.
In general, keep alcohol consumption to a minimum.
Avoid contact sports or activities that could cause injury.  There goes judo and rock climbing... NOT!!!  Planning on breaking both of these rules this summer... I promise I will be careful.
Wear a mask while mowing the grass or working in the garden.  Both disturb the ground and expose the patient to pathogens that are normally controlled by the immune system, the chemotherapy drugs used reduce the ability of the immune system to fight off these pathogens.
Get good rest.  I have had lots of practice recovering from the lung surgery back in February and 15 days or radiation treatments in April.  I was sleeping 10 to 12 hours a day and a 2 to 3 hour nap after lunch.  Now I sleep 8 - 9 hours at night and take a 45 minute nap about every other day.
Stay active and keep doing the things you love.

After all the does and don'ts discussed, the infusion began.

First an IV was started.  Four drugs were infused. 
1.  Palonosetron - anti-nausea, to keep me from throwing up
2.  waited for 45 minutes, then a dose of Dexamethosone - a steroid, to reduce allergic reactions to the chemo drugs.  It gives a boost of energy, was warned to not overdue the added boost.  Sam Rudd and I went for a slow one mile walk, the longest I have walked since the surgery... it felt great!  And I feel good today.  One side effect that I did experience was that I still had energy at bedtime and was up until about 3 am watching episodes of "Game of Thrones" on my Kindle.

3.  waited for another 20 minutes, then a dose of Pemetrexed.  Premetrexed is an anti-cancer (cytotoxic) chemotherapy drug and is classified as an "antimetabolite" agent.  Generally it is well tolerated by most patients and can  be used long term to control cancer.
4.  another wait, then hooked up to blood pressure cuff and oxygen sensor, a dose of Carboplatin was infused.  Carboplatin is a cytotoxic chemotherapy drug and is classified as a an "alkylating" agent.  Carboplatin is one of those drugs that gets your hair to fall out.  The medical community generally assumes that most people will develop an allergy to Carboplatin by the 7th treatment, so it is typically used 4 to 6 times.  The typical allergic reaction is the inability to breath.  In the middle of my treatment, the woman in the next room had a reaction and there were 6 nurses in her room in a heartbeat.  Carol says I became pretty anxious for a couple of minutes.  Scary stuff.

Then it was all done, just a few minutes shy of 2 hours.  I felt good, maybe a bit spacey, glad I had Carol to drive home.  We made it home without incident.  Rested for a bit.  Sam and I went for a walk about Ruby Road, about one mile, with a couple hundred feet of elevation change, at just over a mile of elevation.  It is a beautiful walk, the hills, rocks, trees and wildlife are breathtaking, didn't see another person, quiet, we live in heaven.

David Scott reminded me that I always yelled at my judo students during randori, "attack", attack", "attack".  Fuck Cancer!

Keep up the good fight and remember that every day is a great day!

Love, Van

4/20

Plans to publish something to my blog everyday got scrubbed by a failure in technology. 

I called Golden West Communications, our Internet had been slow or out for the better part of a week. The technician replaced a terminal block, nothing more than plastic and screws, a couple of dollars worth of materials. 

It appears to have fixed the problem, or at least we hope so, so far so good.

Enjoy the day...

More to come tomorrow.