Relishing this new beginning

ROGER CARLSON

The Big Easy didn’t seem to be all that easy, at times, over the past

nine months. But I have to tell you something: It’s a lot easier

right now.

A few days ago my chemotherapy doctor told me he’d like to see me

in three months for a checkup and gave me my graduation diploma by

way of a doctor’s order to get rid of this thing inbedded in my chest

called a port-a-cath. The device is a little button that makes it a

lot easier to apply the medication that has made me whole.

As a colon cancer survivor, and with the tools to send a message,

there’s a tendency to want to get on a soap box and tell everyone

what they should do, inasmuch as I’m now an “expert” on the subject

with all the first-hand knowledge picked up over the past few months.

I’m not going to do that. But I will tell you of a couple of

things I’m glad I did.

I’m glad I listened when a blood test showed me as anemic, with a

shortage of iron.

I’m glad I went to Step 2 right away and had a colonoscopy to

start the sequence which would reveal the grim details: cancer of the

colon on a stage III level, stage IV being worst.

From there it was a matter of following orders and after the

removal of nine inches of colon in late September it was determined

that 20 sessions of chemotherapy were needed to finish off the cancer

still remaining around lymph nodes and “the wall” of something. As it

turned out, No. 19 was determined to be enough.

I guess it’s only human to want to celebrate this survival story,

but it’s more like relief. It’s sort of like being fished out of the

ocean.

Recalling those who were in far worse shape than I, has a way of

muting the personal celebration.

On the road to recovery I had two trips to Hoag with paramedics in

an ambulance.

The first, in late November, was a result of severe dehydration,

one of the byproducts of chemotherapy.

It floored me in the early morning hours at home, but five days at

Hoag got me back on my feet.

In the spring, another chemotherapy negative struck in the form of

blood clots moving from the legs into my lungs.

A dizzy spell that seemed to turn my brain 360 degrees four times,

sent me back to a floor in a local market. Everyone’s best friends,

the paramedics, quickly arrived and hauled me back to Hoag for a

four-day stay.

Now I’m left with three or four more months of medication to keep

the blood thin and the clots at bay. A matter of a couple pills a

week.

Looking back, I find it surprising that in terms of pain, there

really was none.

Uncomfortable? You bet, in terms of chemotherapy’s byproducts. But

I know, in reality, I got off pretty easy.

The cost? From start to finish, roughly $25,000 out of pocket.

Medicare took care of the rest, which was out of sight.

A surprising outcome? Not really. Medical science is fishing

people out of the sea, like me, every day.

Still to come? I’m told my hair will start growing back in

September and, by December, I should be my old hairy self.

The positive that always seemed to be there? Well-wishes from an

awful lot of people, who I’ll never forget.

For once in my life, I find myself daydreaming that I should fall

into vast wealth ... so I could give it all to Hoag Hospital and the

men and women who share that place.

One of the things all of this took out of me was the ambition to

do anything. And I’m still working on the mind-set to get back in the

groove.

I have a few things on my mind, including some exploits in the

very near future by one of the nation’s best in sailing, a Newport

Beach resident named Bill Ficker.

And, there’s a guy in Newport Beach known by many for his astute

comments from time to time in the editorial pages, George Grupe.

You’d be amazed by the scope of his knowledge of sports in the

Southland in the 1930s and ‘40s.

Newport Harbor High’s 1971 football team needs to be brought back

into focus, as well as a five-year stretch of Newport Harbor football

which can be summed up in two words: Mike Giddings.

And someone else who needs to be checked out, Dave Holland, who

coached the Sea Kings to back-to-back CIF football titles in 1988-89.

I need to get into the athletic director’s offices at Newport

Harbor, Corona del Mar, Costa Mesa and Estancia, as well as Sage Hill

School, and acquaint myself with the coaching staffs. This,

hopefully, will offer the readers some additional insight into who’s

running the show.

By then, I’m sure, you know what’s next: 2005-06 and a new

beginning.

* ROGER CARLSON is the former sports editor of the Daily Pilot. He

can be reached by e-mail at rogeranddorthea@msn.com.