Thursday, November 09, 2006

Rays of Light at Karmanos

The first five months of my twenty-first year were spent killing cancer.




It started with surgery in Grand Rapids, MI and then it continued with chemotherapy at Karmanos Cancer Institute in Detriot.





I designated different people "Team Captain" as I faced different obstacles. The last official Team Captain was nurse Robin (pictured left, waking me up).

Every morning she really got a kick out of waking me up. You can tell by the smile on her face. In fact, I think it is the first thing she did when she got to work. I guess it got her day started off right.

She is a big reason reason I didn't go insane... well, not too insane while I received "chemo therapy." Chemo is not therapeutic for the mind except that it is the only human hope of survival anything else is a miracle, an act of God, in my opinion.

I read Lance Armstrong's book It's Not About the Bike and he illustrates the improtance of a superhuman Nurse practitioner. I thought that Lancey would, of course, get the best Nurse practitioner known to man, but apparently I was probably wrong. Robin King is, in my mind, the kindest, most effective, and intelligent professional a cancer patient could hope to be working with. She has my utmost respect and admiration.

There is a boatload (def: overwhelming amount) of details to manage when it comes to killing cancer. Robin is a cancer killing machine, and she does it with a smile.

I wanted try to avoid war-metaphor when describing this chapter of my life, but it fits really well.

There are several battles taking place when one fights cancer. First, you have the mind, soul, spiritual, emotional, ect. battle. Secondly there is the logistical battle. I sang a song while in the mist of a logistical battle. It goes like this:

It's a logistical nightmare...
It's a logistical nightmare...
It's a logistical nightmare...
It's a logistical nightmare...
Repeat as necessary







Here are two people who really made my stays at Karmanos great. I never prayed to God to send angels to gaurd me. Thankfully, I didn't have to because I was sent a host of them to surround me during those times. Agnus and Christine are the epitome of nursing at its best. In addition, they are great people - hardworking, compassionate, and fun. Christine, on the right, is wearing a pin that sends a message about what she is an expert at.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Coping with Cancer: Staying Sane

Here are some ideas that helped me.

1. Hospital gowns are dehumanizing. I detest them. Wear street clothes to keep your sanity while in hospital whenever possible. After spending four months in hospitals nobody forced me to wear a gown (except before and during surgery, which is fine). If they try to get you to wear one, act like you are going to get around to it. They will likely stop nagging you, unless you are dealing with a control freak nurse - and they are out there (more tips on dealing with them later). It is likely that they don't care if you wear one or not, but they have to ask you because of some silly hospital policy that is in place because the supplier of the gowns wants patients to consume them. People in the cancer business like nurses and doctors want you to be comfortable, drug companies and med suppliers only care about pocketing your cash. Do what you have to for you to keep your sanity.

2. Try to think of what makes you and others around you smile. Humor was a nice drug for me during my tough times. Here is my point: surround yourself with good things you cherish. Humor could be one. If flowers are your thing - ask for them. If chocolates are your thing - ask for them. If books are your thing - ask for them. If art is your thing - ask for it.

3. Don't be afraid to ask for what you WANT. It will be meaningful and fulfilling for people to help you. When you have cancer your WANTs are pretty much NEEDs. Of course, within reason. We learn to be polite growing-up by not asking for what we want. I remember going into the grocery store and seeing a three year old saying "I wann wan, I wannit mamma, I wannit, I wannit." So, it is understandable that we have these rules when for our civility. When I was in the hospital, most people and almost all my family said that they want to help in some way. So, right there is an open door that suggests that people are more than willing to help. When we humans see another person suffering we naturally want to help. It is like a reflex. So, as a cancer survivor, I want to tell you that you can help those around you by asking for help when you WANT it. It will be meaningful and fulfilling for them to help you. Don't be afraid to ask for the little things. Little details make all the difference for you. Little things that I asked for include:

  • subway subs (Brandon Odell)
  • chocolate and oranges (aunt Kathy)
  • Lebanese food (aunt Kathy)
  • exercize bike in the hospital (I asked about 25 nurses, doctors, ect)
  • I asked for an IV Tech to do my IV's (that was huge, nobody is better than Anthony- he inserts IV's like Michael Jordan shoots free throws)
  • I double, triple, quadrupled checked with multiple people that chemo equipment was functioning properly(staff)
  • rides to the hospital (Jon Ramer, Mom, Mick Joynt, Aaron Jameson)
  • soups and stews at home (Gary Lindstrom, Mom)
  • pottery lesson (David Szot)

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

My Wrestling Match with Bertrand Russell

Wrestling is the act of struggling, grappling or battling with a person or ideology and subjugating it. Often, wrestling involves acts of defending or protecting one’s self, and acts of offense, much like a sports game or war. Defense would occur when the ball is in one’s court in a basketball game or under fire at war. Offense would be the opposite action. Some people believe offense is the best defense, which would help eliminate the risk of defeat. As one wrestles, the wrestler learns from their opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. This learning process can create a dynamic in which a wrestler can realize the strength of their cause. Without wrestling one easily becomes conquered, then dominated by alien power.

Bertrand Russell lived out his days of freedom during decades of emancipation of thought wrestling against ideologies, people and the “whole world of art and philosophy, and the vision of beauty”.1 Reading about his life and looking at the titles of his books, I realized that this man was an activist for social justice; defined the forefront of defining reality through mathematics eschatology, philosophy and other sciences; and was victim of persecution by many, including the Catholic Church.2 He was an independent thinker, who would not bow to the masses, but controlled every facet of his thoughts to be pure from any kind of corruption. He witnessed reconstruction of the civil war; the civil rights movement; two world wars; the effects of colonization; died in the middle of the cold war; and lived his days of freedom surrounded by rumors of death and destruction fighting a war of emancipation that seemed unending. 3 Bertrand Russell was orphaned at four in a wealthy bourgeois family in England, was married four times, faced persecution for his radical beliefs that clashed with the “malice of power.”4

Russell and I share many convictions and the ideals that lay the foundations of our soul are not much different, yet several points of our worldviews diverge. Russell, an atheist, looks at the world pessimistically and hunts for meaning in a reality centered on the cold fate science presents to humankind: life and civilization are “destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar sytem”?5 I, a am a theist, who acknowledges a force of love and logic in the world and universe, view nature, through the lens of science, as an element existing for the possibility or purpose of love. In contrast, Bertrand Russell seems to be an atheist who looks at the universe and bows in acquiescence to nature as the “unthinking Mother”, despite self proclaimed freedom.6

Let’s take a fresh look at Nature. Many revolutions of the earth’s hurrying through the abysses have taken place, since the time nature gulped-down Bertrand Russell. Today, debates rage about weather the universe is truly unconscious. Outspoken atheists and, in 2004, a leading philosopher and former atheist Antony Flew turned deist renouncing atheism in the wake of an age old idea that the universe does have the mark of consciousness, a thinking mother.7 Does science really tell us that the universe is conscious or unconscious? No, there is absolutely no scientific evidence that proves the inexistence or existence of God. Any assertion beyond scientific evidence is belief. Yet, in the following statement, Bertrand Russell boldly as any religious man, asserts his atheist belief:

That Man is the product of causes which had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms. 8

From my soul resounds, in opposition to the above dark ominous assumption of opinion, not fact: “I hope you’re wrong.” As I contemplate beauty, I see this statement is utterly bereft aesthetic jubilee. To yield to such a statement is to invite the taskmaster of darkness and wanton destruction to rule the habitation of one’s soul.

Through centuries of renaissance and enlightenment mans belief systems have been constantly refined through advances in the sciences. Some have made this refinement of beliefs into a war between science and religion. Through the millennia man has taken religion into his own hands for his own benefit. Islam spread rapidly to fight against oppression from Jews, Catholics sold indulgences for personal gain, some Protestants in the United States, today, use their religion as a spring board for power and to morally bereft rationalization to justify injustice. What this means is that people are free, autonomous, imperfect and have a history of using what could be good to do evil. Bertrand Russell sees these inconsistencies between ideals of faith and action and fights to remove both! I see his struggle as futile and reckless. On the other hand, I fight against such inconsistencies but respect faith.

When we have realised that Power is largely bad, that man, with his knowledge of good and evil, is but a helpless atom in a world which has no such knowledge, the choice is again presented to us: Shall we worship Force, or shall we worship Goodness? Shall our God exist and be evil, or shall he be recognized as the creation of our own conscience? 9

Russell presents, in these questions, his conviction that it is better to worship goodness rather that force, and that it’s good to realize that God is the creation of our own conscience. Let’s create a hypothetical scenario in which God is essentially good, and man was made in God’s image? Then man is an image of God and therefore in his conscience resides a morality capacity of knowing what is good and what is evil. The story of the apple tree in the Garden of Eden might be a beautiful metaphor for such a reality.10 Bertrand Russell admits that he sees the light, but refuses to believe in the existence of a light bulb. In other words, Bertrand Russell acknowledges goodness, but does not construct a God as the source of goodness. Ultimately, he defines man’s true freedom as

The determination to worship only the God created by our own love of the good, to respect only the heaven which inspires the insight of our best moments. 11

From my soul resounds, in support to the above words of enlightenment: “Preach it, brother!” Bertrand Russell opens up his heart and presents the shrine, temple, or home for his soul.
Let us preserve respect for truth, for beauty, for the ideal of perfection which life does not permit us to attain, though none of these things meet with the approval of the unconscious universe. 12

Aside from “unconscious universe”, I agree that the ideal of truth, beauty, and perfection is unattainable, but respectable. I interpret the following statement as the humanist manifesto:
For in all things it is well to exalt the dignity of Man, by freeing him as far as possible from the tyranny of non-human Power. 13

Bertrand Russell made a huge leap of faith boldly preaching that the mother universe is an ignorant blind creator, but I think anger, bitterness, and fear keep Bertrand Russell from making the leap of all leaps, which he fought wrathfully against, into the realm of creating a God. Also, out of bitterness and stubbornness, he reasoned that if evil existed then a truly altruistic God is not worthy or submission. He feared a religion or worldview that would let him down.
When first the opposition of fact and ideal grows fully visible, a spirit of fiery revolt, of fierce hatred of the gods, seems necessary to the assertion of freedom. 14

He feared a God who is an omnipotent slave master who will crack-the-whip, bind the hands and feet and beat into subjugation the precious freedom of Bertrand Russell. He preaches that it’s slavery to worship a manmade God despite the darkness and pain he had seen in the world.
Since the independence of ideals is not yet acknowledged, Power may be freely worshiped, and receive an unlimited respect, despite its wanton infliction of pain. 15

Can one find freedom in a worldview of the universe in which a deity resides? In contemplation of such a universe I find freedom. In a civilized nation one finds freedom in the presence of volumes of laws. Physics are ruled by sets of laws, yet one finds a relative form of freedom in such laws.

Can God exist and evil subsist? Bertrand Russell rushes to the conclusion that the coexistence of evil and God in a universe would be mutually exclusive. Sure Bertie, oil and water don’t mix, we all know that, but they can coexist in a jar. I think Bertrand Russell has an elephantine ego that supports a worldview filled structured upon belief not fact, only to deceive himself into thinking he is omniscient; therefore, he is God and refuses answer to anyone but himself.

Sadly enough, Bertrand Russell drinks the rain and thanks the clouds, has sex and thanks himself for such an amazing body with the capability of having an orgasm, eats fruit and thanks a tree, sees the stars only to thank gravity, looks into the joy of a child’s eyes the and thanks cold coincidence for all of these.





Footnotes
Russell, essays, p. 14
Craig, Philosophy, p. 392
Craig, Philosophy, p. 393
Russell, essays, p. 13
Russell, essays, p. 10
Russell, essays, p. 11
Unknown, God, p.1
Russell, essays, p. 10
Russell, essays, p. 12
Plaut, Commentary, p. XVIII
Russell, essays, p. 13
Russell, essays, p. 12
Russell, essays, p. 12
Russell, essays, p. 13
Russell, essays, p. 11


Bibliography
Craig, Edward. Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Vol. 8. Routledge. London. 1998.
Plaut, W. Guenther. The Torah: A Modern Commentary. Union of American Hebrew Congregations. New York. 1981.
Russell, Bertrand. A Free Man’s Worship and other essays. Unwin Paperbacks. London. 1976.
Unknown, Famous Atheist Now Believes in God. Associated Press: http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=315976
Dec 9, 2004.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Segregation in Public Schools: Poverty and Racism

April 20, Ferris State University celebrated the fifty-first anniversary of the the Brown vs. The Board of Education decision. A roundtable discussion took place on the issue of segregation in public schools in the new millennium. Grand Rapids Mayor George Heartwell, Superintendent Bert Bleke of Grand Rapids, Emily Aleman of the West Michigan Hispanic Center, and David May of the Institute for Healing Racism discussed the sad reality of resegregation in public schools.

Today, nearly 8 out of ten children in GRPS are minorities, latinos and blacks. Juan Williams of NPR visited Ferris State University last week, and labeled this type of segregation as hypersegregation. Hypersegregation is where minorities are the vast majority of students in schools. Even a half century after the landmark U.S. Supreme Court ruling Brown vs. The Board of Education decision, which supposedly ended school segregation, schools are becoming increasingly segregated.

Mayor Heartwell of Grand Rapids stated that white parents are withdrawing their children from inner city schools and moving them to schools where there are less blacks and Latinos. According to Heartwell, “this segregation is a product of the human imagination… segregation is not inevitable and social order has nothing to do with it.” These trends only exacerbate the crisis at hand. Middle class parents choose to send their children to white dominated schools in the suburbs, to private religious schools, to charter schools, and to other schools that are further from the inner city populations. He believes that the separation of races is a form of inequality because of the lack of resources available to minorities in the inner city schools. He says that de facto segregation has become reality after the Brown vs. The Board of Education decision.

Superintendent Bert Bleke stated that poverty and racism are the makeup of this crisis and. He said the problem is made worse by the lack of funding in these urban schools. Bleke believes the education crisis is a social crisis. This year alone, Grand Rapids Public Schools (GRPS) is operating in a $15 million budget deficit, faces high poverty rates, low test scores, low parent involvement, and diminishing resources. In five years, ninety percent of the children attending GRPS will be living below the poverty line. Research has shown that low achievement is closely correlated with lack of resources. Numerous studies have documented the correlation between low socioeconomic status and low achievement. It’s no wonder that 11 GRPS schools have not met Adequate Yearly Progress for four or five years in the No Child Left Behind Legislation. Bleke said, “Most urban children are coming to school with a vocabulary that is three to four thousand words less than that of the predominantly middle class children. That is like starting a 100-yard dash 20 yards behind.”
According to recent studies, Grand Rapids is not alone. Since 1986, in the 236 largest school districts, which compose of one third of all students in the United States, black and Latino students are becoming more racially segregated from whites in their schools.

Bleke says that the gap between black and white children in education is widening. He thinks the isolation of minorities is leading to more anger among communities. Blacks and Latinos are feeling more disconnected from society. According to Bleke, those feelings of anger could lead to such problems in the future as riots. Heartwell stated that segregation is also very noticeable in housing, church and work life. Bleke said that neighborhoods share the responsibility with the schools to find a solution to this crisis. He also said, “The kids are bright and the teachers are excellent, but under the tough conditions that these children live in, the crisis of educating urban children should be one of America’s top priorities.”

According to David May of the Institute for Healing Racism, inner-city public schools need change. He said, “Problems in these schools are starting to hemorrhage; they have fallen behind and cannot catch up.” May said, “There is an absence of diverse thought; lack of diverse curriculum and staff; and enrollment is declining… change comes when those in leadership make that change a priority.” May believes that the current system has operated “inside-the-box” and that radical thinking is needed to correct the current system. All the panelists agreed that it can be changed. They called upon all generations to look for creative ways to end this injustice to society. May states that the solution is dialogue, “Dialogue can create a voice on how the system will look in the future… parents and communities can educate the system through dialogue.”

Friday, March 25, 2005

Thoreau was a genious...

"Remember thy creator in the days of thy youth. Rise free from care before the dawn, and seek adventures. Let the noon find thee by other lakes, and the night overtake thee everywhere at home. There are no larger fields than these, no worthier games than may here be played. Grow wild according to thy nature, like these sedges and brakes, which will never become English bay. Let the thunder rumble; what if it threaten ruin to farmers' crops? that is not its errand to thee. Take shelter under the cloud, while they flee to carts and sheds. Let not to get a living be thy trade, but thy sport. Enjoy the land, but own it not. Through want of enterprise and faith men are where they are, buying and selling their lives like serfs." Baker Farm, pg. 180

Conrad writes about reverse culture shock

Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness book, which was written in the 1800's, has an interesting description of what it may be like to get back from doing humaitarian work overseas or some kind of missions trip. The passage implies a heightened level of seemingly haunting, disarming awareness, along with a mix of condescension, awe, and despair.

"I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretense, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flaunting of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces, so full of stupid importance. I dare say I was not very well at that time. I tottered about the streets — there were various affairs to settle — grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons. I admit my behavior was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in these days. My dear aunt’s endeavors to “nurse up my strength” seemed altogether beside the mark. It was my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing."

Friday, February 25, 2005

There is a certain man, who I have known most of my life. He is a humble man, dedicated, conservative, compassionate, and seemingly wise. This man and his wife have four healthy children. Their children are kind, athletic and intelligent. He has a successful business and has invested his resources wisely. A wealthy man he was. Whenever I saw him, he asked caring questions and always wore a smile. He seemed to be genuinely interested in others and his deep caring voice would fit any grandfather well. Both of his hands were always ready to shake yours and his eyes were warm with a smile. No matter how far he had driven that day or what the weather was like it didn't matter, he was predictable. He listened when one spoke to him and answered with sound wisdom.

One day I was riding in the car with him. He asked me if I had a girlfriend and at that time of my life I hadn't. He nodded and told me a story of when he was in college (his 22 years of it). The women, he said, "were very attractive and inviting." They had been interested in him and there were many who he thought were nice. What he told me next left an impression. I was in middle-school at that time, and the hormones and appreciation for beautiful women was becoming a new and exciting part of my life. All men have lots of questions about women. In college, I am around many men, or should I say boys, who are consumed with finding the answers.I had lots of questions, all of which I was afraid to ask. The wisdom he shared with me that day seemed to answer a lot of them. He told me that he was looking for someone special. Only one of the many charming and beautiful women would be his lifelong mate. It was sometimes hard. Knowing that there was someone special out there was why he was willing to ignore the other womens' nice things and wait for the one beauty to pursue. He explained to me that his wife was a true prize. For some reason, I understood what he meant.

Life happened. Recently, an illness struck this man and tested his character. He recovered physically from this illness, but something had died in the process. Everything was back to business at work and he was able to run things. Business was slow because of a weak economy. It was a living allegory of his own failing body. When he came home from work to his "fortress in the hills" he retreated to the dungeon and made love with the idiot box. His mind was at ease and the problems of the world were easily summed up by CNN anchormen. Confusing negativity was unable to reach him from the dungeon. He was at ease in the dungeon. Everything around him could be controlled. The lights could be bright or dim. The sound on the TV could be loud or soft. The temperature could be turned up or down. The door could be locked to keep him from being bothered. Life was safe down there. No more negativity could reach him. No more illness could reach his ears. He was safe from all distractions especally his current situation.

The man's wife and children continued their busy lives as usual. His wife ran the kids to their sporting events, practices, doctor visits, grocery shopping, did laundry, cleaning and cooking. Her man was working hard eigth hours of the day. The rest of the day he spent in the dungeon.

I found out yesterday that his wife had left him. He was a gentle person and I know that he was not physically or verbally abusive. He didn't seem to be the type to cheat on his wife. His marriage is gone and legacy is now scarred forever.

C'mon man! Get a grip. What's more important? Is your family unity and marriage or an empty, numb, life-sucking, lonely TV land. How about your stock options and mutual funds? What would you spend to get the best family and marriage counselors? How far would you travel? Is work so important that you couldn't take an extended period of time off to pour your time into your family. Think of what you could have had, man! What did you lose? What do you have left? Your could take your wife to some tropical island and patch up relationships. Maybe it's not worth it. Maybe you can start over again at sixty and become really close with all the television networks.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Good Hope in Africa



I went to South Africa for four weeks in 2003. I met a lot of random people and took a 1,500 mile road trip up the coast of Africa surfing and staying in the boonies with Afrikkaners, Xhosa, Zulus, Brits, and ex-pro surfers. For two weeks I traveled with a guy from California who knew how to surf. I knew how to paddle my board and nearly drown myself but that was about it. Brad's website is http://speerinsa.com here are pictures of our trip http://speerinsa.com/drupal/node/190 and, yes, the Xhosa natives do their ceremonial dances topless. Whoopie-doo... grow-up.


Here I am with the most beautiful woman in the world in one of the coldest places on earth: Holland, MI in January. The white snow makes my teeth look really yellow. Lake Michigan smiles... : )