The Bear, #MeToo, and, well, me too....

   True story.
   A few years ago, I was walking through the forest, alone, and I came across a bear. It was a mother bear and she had a cub with her. From all I knew of wilderness safety, this was a bad combination. I stopped dead in my tracks and watched them. My mind, however, was racing a mile a minute. It was going through all the small bits of data it carried regarding bears--- their tendencies, behaviours and inclinations.
   I had been in close proximity to wild bears before but it was always from the safety of a car, stopped by the edges of mountain highways. I had never been on foot, alone, with only the fresh morning air between me and a bear.
   What I knew in that moment was that the bear was the one who would be deciding what happened next. I knew I could neither fight nor outrun it. 
   Without the presence of the bear, the situation was as

benign as you could have made it. The sun was filtering down through the treetops, the forest was moist and primeval, and the air was easy to breathe. With a bear and her cub added to the equation, however, I was suddenly faced with some terrible possibilities, the consequences of which might leave my life seriously compromised or, possibly, over.
   The mother bear saw me at the same time I saw her. Neither of us lost eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. Blessedly, the cub had no idea I existed and was intent on exploring its surroundings. Its curiosity took it across the trail I'd been on and back up into the forest. The mother briefly continued to look at me but then decided to follow her cub. I gave them a minute to get further into the forest and then I hurriedly continued on my way.
   It did not occur to me then but it strikes me now that this must be what it's like for women to travel a landscape which, as much as the forest is made for the bear, is almost entirely advantageous to men---men of many ilks and dispositions.
   I, obviously, am a man and part of a subgroup which benefits from a great many things not always afforded to women. Of all of these, personal safety is perhaps the area in which there is the largest chasm of difference. For the most part, men go where they want with no fear. Until, perhaps, you are in the forest with a bear.
   When you are in the forest with a bear, you are at the mercy of whatever natural instinct strikes them. You have no idea when (or what) they might have eaten last, what the nature was of the interaction they had with the last human they saw, or, more simply, whether they were having a bad day or not. If you are lucky, you get to safely share their environment with them. If you have picked a bad day to be in the forest, then you are maimed or dead.
   In a way, is this not the same for some, many or even all women? Whether or not it is at the forefront of their fears, is it not at least subliminally there, whispering warnings? As benign as the setting may be, if you are a woman in close proximity to a man you are unfamiliar with is it not that much different than coming across that bear in the forest? And how many hundreds of thousands of women have found themselves in the forest, on a bad day?
   

It is now the era of #MeToo and #TimesUp. In an age when communication between people is both instant and constant, women have been able to rally around these hashtags and share their stories and fears. Because of this, both collectively and individually, they have found the ability to rise up against the evil which men sometimes do and have almost always gotten away with. #MeToo has also exposed the pervasiveness of male sexism---at any given point in their lives, pretty well all women could justifiably claim to have been victimized in some way, shape or form.
   In part because of #MeToo, patterns of male behaviour have been laid bare, open for inspection, and many of us men have been found lacking. We have also been found complicit---many times by simply looking away. We have heard stories from other men about the many ways they might have abused women, or continue to do so, and we have remained silent.
   In the ongoing aftermath of all this, many men, I believe, are now looking back at their past interactions with women in an attempt to determine whether at some point they might have strayed. Some men may have done this in an effort to predict possible fallout headed their way. Other men, simply in an effort to understand how their attitudes and behaviours in the past can be changed for the better.
   As a man, you can learn if you pay attention. I have a female friend on Facebook I've known for many years. She has an amazing smile, in my opinion, but she rarely uses it when she posts photos. In the past, I have gone out of my way to point this out to her, while commenting on the occasional pic. It has only been since the emergence of #MeToo and the accompanying discourse on latent sexism, that I've come to realize how inappropriate it is for me to do this, regardless of how well I know this woman and and how light-hearted our exchanges seem. So I've stopped making this mistake and am actually contemplating an apology. It is simply not my place to offer an opinion to someone on how they can more closely live up to what my expectations are on how physically attractive I think they could be.
   This seems like just a small thing to me but I also think it is indicative of what hopefully the new climate around gender roles is bringing---men rethinking how they act and react around women. And if you are on social media and you are paying attention, women will actually provide you with do's and don'ts.
   For a moment, back to the bear in the forest. 
   I drew the comparison between me encountering that bear in the forest and women interacting with men in common, everyday environments. I'm not sure how far-fetched or unrealistic comparing those two things may sound to you but the fact of the matter is this---for that length of time I was in that forest with that bear, my life was basically upside-down. Whatever vestige of male privilege I'd carried with me prior to that moment slipped away into nothing. No amount of physical strength or intellectual reasoning was going to come between me and that bear. If the bear thought it had any good reason to seriously hurt or kill me, well, that's what was going to happen. I would have done nothing wrong but having been in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a predator. Is this not sometimes what women face? 
   I'm going to present yet another metaphor or scenario which, as far-fetched as it might sound, I think might actually be applicable. As women walk around in this world they are faced with about 50% of the rest of the population being male. Out of that 50%, perhaps 75% of men are capable of performing whatever act of violence they wish upon whatever women they encounter. As a man, I can only think of one sphere of existence wherein, on a daily basis, I might have to live my life faced with similar odds of having to face violence or possible death. Prison. 

Is this what it's like for women, in a man's world?

   These are not numbers which will ever change and I doubt that many of us view life this way. But, for many women, this is a reality and for many women it will become a reality. As men, we need to understand our role in all of this and come to grips with some of the changes which need to happen.
   This will probably screw us up. How we treat women (how we treat people, in general) is something we started to learn basically as we were lying on our mothers' bellies for the first time. We learned from how our mother treated us and then watching how she was treated.  We have witnessed the many ways power can be used. We have spent our lives watching how the people around us used or abused relationships and we have formed behaviours around all this which will now be difficult to change. There will be confusion and there will be anger and we will rail against what seems to suddenly be an injustice we don't understand.
   Make no mistake about it, though, women will force a change.  Women will save themselves. Along the way, men will need to provide fewer reasons for women to be wary of us. We will need to come to grips with masculinity also meaning protecting, enabling, and respecting as much as it does anything else. We can do this if we just think. What we can't become, or continue to be, is the bear in the forest.
   
   
   

   

Black Coffee

   This is sort of about black coffee but really it's not about black coffee. The actual black coffee is truly the smallest and most insignificant thing about this little story I'm preparing to tell you.
   One day last week, I made a regularly scheduled visit to my chiropractor, Zeinin Haji. Zeinin is this wonderful woman who, a few years ago, took a man whose hips could barely get him across the livingroom floor and changed him into a viable, functioning human being once again. Because of this, I tend to pay attention to what she says.
   Last week, in the middle of an adjustment, she suggested I might be better off if I lost five pounds. In chiropractic terms, she thought it would create a better "balance". What I found remarkable about this was that she has never said anything to me about my weight before and, believe me, I have needed to lose five pounds pretty well since I was fifteen!
   When she said this, I immediately became suspicious that perhaps she and my wife, Doralyn, had been involved in some conspiracy. I had noticed that Doralyn had been in for an appointment with Zeinin about an hour before I got there. What a coincidence that Zeinin was now talking to me about my weight.....hmmm.
   After the adjustment, we sat down and Zeinin drew me out a bit of a pie chart with proteins, carbs and fats on it and suggested a diet higher in protein and with a little less of the others. We then agreed that I would try and lose five pounds by my next visit, in a month, and that my overall goal might be closer to thirty pounds. Not unreasonable.
   Here's where the black coffee comes in.
   At some point while we were talking about small and simple things I could do to lose weight and be healthier, Zeinin suggested that I could start drinking my coffee black. Now, the whole time she'd been talking to me, I had been gently nodding my head up and down, in total acquiescence. When she mentioned drinking my coffee black, my head started swiveling back and forth sideways. I have never taken my coffee black. I can't stand the taste of black coffee. Over the years, I've had pretty well every combination of milk, cream, sugar and sweetener in an attempt to be healthier but I always drew the line at drinking it black. In my mind, right there in Zeinin's office, I'm thinking no way.
   I headed for home after the appointment and was standing in the kitchen, telling Doralyn about it. She swore up and down that my name had never come up during her earlier appointment with Zeinin. Which is now kind of beside the point because when it comes right down to it, I do need to lose a whole bunch of weight and Doralyn reminded me that I've been promising her for years that I would be a healthier husband for her. At that point, I mentioned to Doralyn about the black coffee. I told her what my reaction had been when I had heard black coffee described as a healthier alternative. Right there in the kitchen, I more or less told Doralyn there was no way I was going to be following that little bit of Zeinin's advice. At this point, Doralyn turned to leave the kitchen and as she did so, looked over her shoulder at me, smiled sweetly and said, "Perhaps Zeinin thinks I'm worth it!"
   With this one short phrase, Doralyn more or less nailed me to the cross of my love for her.
   I stood there in the kitchen after she left with my mouth (or was it my soul) hanging a little open. Of course she's worth it! This was, and always has been, the undeniable truth to it all and all the responsibility around this had just been very clearly distributed right back in my lap. Clearly, where it belonged.
   I followed Doralyn into the livingroom, smiled, looked down and pointed my finger at her (as I tend to do every time she amazes me with something) and told her, "That was good!"

She seems worth it, doesn't she??

   The next morning, I drank my coffee black. I made more black coffee and took it to work with me. I then drank black coffee all weekend long and I drank black coffee today.
   Along with all this black coffee, I've been eating lots of protein, fewer carbs and healthier fats. I've been to the gym twice and hiked and run. I've lost about five pounds but it's five pounds I knew would come off quickly once I started to really pay attention. 
   The black coffee, with its missing milk, of course, will likely always be one of the smallest parts of me being healthier. With all the things I can do to be more mindful of my health, however, black coffee may be the touchstone of them all!
   

15 Years

   I am married to a woman, Doralyn, who is almost fifteen years younger than I am. I did not set out to marry a woman fifteen years younger but fell in love with someone who laughed at my jokes, was beautiful, loving, cared about my life and the people in it, gave of herself freely, read my mind, and, most importantly, kissed Syd. The fact that she happened to be fifteen years younger was irrelevant.

No age difference....right??

   Usually, the age gap is inconsequential. Many of our interests are the same and the ones that aren't only serve to keep us balanced. 
   Physically, I have always been pretty active and would guess that I am on par with men who are fifteen years, or more, younger. Mentally, I am slowly passing over into the "senior" zone and this is where likely the age gap makes itself felt the most. 
   I forget, she doesn't. I have been cast adrift in a sea of technology, she sails that same sea effortlessly. She cares how she looks. Me, not so much.
   The age gap also means that I have had fifteen more years of life experiences. I witnessed the Beatles. She sort of heard about them. Often I have found myself making cultural references about things she was never around to experience. Or possibly even care about!
   That fifteen year difference has also led to interesting relationship observations, particularly when we look around at the other people in our lives and consider their age differences.

My son, Bryant, in the middle.

   This same fifteen year gap exists between my oldest son, Bryant, and Doralyn. Then there's the aforementioned gap between Doralyn and myself. After that, there's another gap of the same length between myself and Doralyn's mum, Marlies. Finally, were he still alive, there would have been the same difference in ages between Doralyn's mum and my dad. At the same time that our age difference seems so viable, it is almost impossible to imagine any of those other people in our lives with the same age gap being paired up together!
   Another thing which never occurred to me when Doralyn and I started this journey is that I am going to be retired long before she is. At this point, I am actually only about a year and a half away from either full or semi retirement and Doralyn will still be heading off to work every day. Then, by the time she's ready to retire, I'll be almost eighty. Hard to say what kind of shape I'll be in as we're trying to enjoy our retirement together!
   As much as I've been talking about this fifteen year difference, I am also a firm believer in "you are as young as you feel". This and the fact that, physiologically, people age at totally different rates is something I place some faith in. What seems like a tenuous fifteen year age gap may, in reality, be more like a five year age gap. And that's workable, right?

My Dad, Doralyn, myself, and Doralyn's Mum. LOTS of 15 year gaps there!

   I also tend to define my age somewhat by the peer group I feel as if I belong to. I have been working at the same place for almost thirty-five years and have always considered my co-workers as being part of my peer group. As the years went by and the ever-expanding group of co-workers became younger, I still considered them part of my group. Occasionally, however, I'd find myself having a discussion with a co-worker about one of their parents and then realize that I was older than that parent! Yet, in spite of this, I still identify with the co-worker.
   Family-wise, I am part of "The Kids". There is the matriarch, Marlies, and then "The Kids". I tell myself that I am part of this group and then along comes my brother-in-law's wife, Sabrina, whose mother, Naheed, must obviously be  part of the older group, "The Parents". Naheed, however, is the same age I am! So, this "fifteen year" deal gets a little complicated sometimes...
   All in all, I think about this age difference very little. At the same time as I might be planning for the future, I am not wary of it. As much as possible, Doralyn and I take care of each other on a daily basis with little regard as to how old we are. There are old souls and there are young souls and I think that, soul-wise, we're right about the same age!
   
   
   
   
     

Falling Down

   This morning, while Doralyn was in the shower, I headed downstairs as I do every morning and made a hard left into the kitchen to....wait.....that's what I would have done if, in fact, I had actually been at the bottom of the steps when I made that hard left! 
   Instead, I stepped out into mid air, sure that my right foot was about to make solid contact with firm parquet floor, when this was unfortunately not the case. Yes, I began my day lying in a heap on the floor just outside the kitchen door. 
   A quick bodily check and I was soon back up on my feet, almost none the worse for wear. Unfortunately, it's a little hard to disguise the sound of a 226 pound man doing a face plant on a hard wooden floor at 5:56 a.m. when the only other person up and moving in the house is safe in her warm shower and Doralyn soon appeared, in a towel and still dripping, saying it sounded as though I had fallen down the stairs. I confirmed that there was a reason for this, she asked me if I was okay, I confirmed that I was, and she headed back upstairs. Likely wondering what fate had brought her.
   This is not the first time the exact same thing has happened. A few months ago, I pulled a similar maneuver going down the steps into the lower level of our house. I thought I was already at the bottom when I wasn't, yet. Again, that time, no major damage done. I at least partially thank many years of playing sports as a kid and then as a young man for my ability to "take a hit" and survive, relatively unscathed. This is fine but, intellectually, I know I can't keep doing this.
   After my first little mishap I found myself consciously making sure I had actually reached terra firma pretty well every successive occasion I had for walking down stairs. In the mornings, I generally find myself going down the stairs in the semi-darkness and when I think I have reached the bottom I will actually take one more exploratory step, just to make sure that bottom is, in truth, where I'm at. This morning, I did not do this for some reason.

   

   I'm going to blame the cats. On my way down the stairs this morning, two of them rushed past me, ostensibly to begin their day but possibly as part of their deadly plan to distract me from my normal stair routine. I found myself bemused at their fervour and looking forward to their antics and totally entered a different realm of cognition. Hence the disaster which befell me.
   Part of this, I'm sure, is the aging process. As a young man, I really don't remember ever falling down stairs, at least not stairs that were clear of ice or obstruction. These days, it seems like a fairly common occurrence. I even occasionally lose track of where I am when I'm walking up the stairs---somehow or other, in mid-step, I'm not quite sure where I need to put my foot next. I have to concentrate more than I ever used to, and this seems all wrong, dammit!
   Okay, so this is a cautionary tale, I guess. Like a minor car accident reminding you to drive a little more cautiously, I imagine that this morning's mishap will linger long enough to remind me the next time to make sure the ground has firmly come up to meet me before I then move on. Other than that, we might be looking at either kiddie slides or parachutes to get me out of the house in the morning!
    

    

Man On Fire Revisited

   Things (mainly my face) are about to get ugly. Again.
   Last night, I began another three-week series of Efudex treatments on my face. I kind of chronicled my first run of treatment with Efudex a couple of years ago and referred to it as a "Man On Fire" because Efudex is a topical chemotherapy cream which essentially burns away skin cells. The skin cells we're aiming for are pre-cancerous ones (which is good) but the treatment also does a bit of a number on ALL the skin cells it touches (which is bad) so the end result is somewhat akin to a nasty sunburn.

It's you 'n' me, Eff You Dex, just you 'n' me.....

   My original treatment was not nearly as bad as I was led to believe it could have been and this time around we're only talking about two or three tiny little spots I need to treat so no big deal. More of a pain in the....face...I guess!
   The last time around, I chronicled the experience pretty extensively (with pics, even!) and if you're at all interested in close-ups of my ugly mug with even uglier red spots on it you can go back to September of 2013 on the Blog Archive (scroll down the right hand side if this page) and click on it. Religious scrolling will then take you to a whole series of blog posts on the subject. Or you could just go cut the grass, instead! And, if you're a friend of mine who actually occasionally sees me in person and is wondering what the tiny blotches are, well, now you know! Cheers!

Escape Velocity (You Wanna Live To Be A Thousand?)

   Many, many years ago, I wrote something (a poem?) in which I postulated that ours was the first generation in the history of the world which had any sort of expectation of living forever.

   I stated this simply because of all the medical advances which (at that time) had been made and not because I was privy to any scientific knowledge which wasn't already available to the masses.
   Last week, as I was rooting around on the internet in an attempt to find out some info on Masters athletes, I came across websites which described terms such as "escape velocity", "actuarial escape velocity" or "longevity escape velocity". They were used in reference to the aging process and described the point at which the speed of the advancements in the medical treatment of age-related deterioration exceeded the speed of the deterioration itself.
   One website quoted well-known biomedical gerontologist Aubrey de Grey as theorizing that the first person to live to be 150 has already been born and that in another 20 years the first person to live to be 1,000 will have been born.
   I found this both staggering and fascinating at the same time.
   It throws the world as we know it way out of whack.
   Not that we consciously think about it throughout our everyday life, but we run that same life under the assumption that we're going to die some day relatively soon.
   We set aside money for retirement, write wills, seek adventure and change relationships.
   What would you do differently, though, if you knew you were going to live for a thousand years?
   Because I am under the assumption that I'm going to die sometime soon, I am also planning my retirement and have begun to "count the days". With a lifespan of a thousand years, though, would I then be looking at working for eight hundred of those years? Think about that for a moment and tell me if you find that appealing. Exactly how would you spend a thousand years of your life?


Typical weekend at the beach?

   Back that many years ago when I talked about our generation looking at the possibility of living forever, I also envisioned bodies lacking in vitality. Aubrey de Grey, however, believes that medical advances will make the human body quite viable, giving way to the prospect of being actually able to enjoy our greatly increased lifespan.
   What then concerns me most, though, is what kind of a world will there be to live in?
   Our world, in many parts of it, is a nasty place and is becoming nastier all the time. We also live under the constant threat of terrorism and what seems to be the increased risk of nuclear conflict. Should these threats ever come to full fruition, I think the world will not be a place you'd want to live in, particularly for another 800 years!
   I like the idea of longevity. Part of the deal with "escape velocity" was that you need to be healthy enough to live until these medical advances become available. I personally just wanted to be healthy until the end of my life, say in my mid-eighties or so. I never figured on living anywhere from 150 to a thousand years. I was never aiming, and still am not, to attain "escape velocity".
   Think of a world where no-one dies a natural death. If nothing else, think how crowded it would be. At some point we would at least feel as though we were all shoulder-to-shoulder. You would have the opportunity to meet your great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren but how familiar would you be with any of them and how could you possibly play a real role in their lives. So what would be the point?
   I strongly suspect that, given the opportunity to live several hundred years, we would choose death at some point. When there were no new things to experience and the world was closing in on you, death would be the only thing left that would seem like both an adventure and an escape with a velocity of its own. 
  

Do you want to save a life?: Part Two

   Almost a full year ago, I wrote a blog post titled "Do you want to save a life?" You can read this post here. In it, I espouse the virtues of both organ and blood donation.
   By way of example, I spoke about two people in my life who were, at that time, dealing with health issues in which blood and organ donation either already were playing vital roles or had the potential for doing so.

Gordon (as I knew him) and Gordon (as I CONTINUE to know him!)

   One of them was a gentleman and high school compatriot named Gordon Kirkland. Gordon lives in B.C. and his liver was failing at this time last year. His only viable hope for survival rested on the very slim chance that someone, somewhere near to him, had made the decision to donate their organs upon their passing. And then they had to die. Complicating this somewhat was the fact that they needed to be fairly close to Gordon's size (he's a big man) and the blood types needed to match (Gordon has one of the rarer blood types).
   Gordon spent most of last year slowly deteriorating. He is a well-known and respected humourist, though, and did his best to demonstrate this at the same time as his body continued to both sustain and betray him.
   Over the latter part of the year, you could sense the resignation in his writings. He talked about how close death was.
   Then he got lucky. Or he received a blessing. Maybe a little of both but the fact of the matter is that he became the recipient of a new liver just a little over two months ago! By both his and his doctors' admission, he was likely only about three days away from death when he received his transplant. He is doing very well now and has returned to that ebullient Gordon we all know and love. At the same time, he is humble in his thankfulness and extremely aware that someone else had to die in order for him to continue on living.
   Putting it simply, you can save a life by registering as an organ donor. This just happened to someone I know. Not only that, the act of registering can either save or greatly positively impact the lives of several people, all at the same time. It's a no-brainer, no pun intended!

   The other person I spoke about in that post was my ex-wife, Lori Hicks. Lori was in the middle of a battle against multiple myeloma, a form of blood cancer. The treatment for this involves different forms of chemotherapy and blood transfusions. Hence the need for blood donations. Donated blood is also used in the battle against anemia, sickle cell disease and hemophilia. Of course it is also used in cases involving accidents, where there may be great blood loss.

   Lori,
   and my two boys,
   Bryant and Ben

   Sadly, Lori ultimately lost her battle, passing away in early December. No amount of blood donation would have ultimately saved her. Blood donations, however, were a vital part of the treatment process which helped keep her alive for the five years she was still with us after her cancer diagnosis. This was five years of a life lived with dignity and grace and, as importantly, a life surrounded by the love of family and friends. Blood donations were a part of what helped make this possible for her and they continue to help many others. For the length of time it takes--about forty-five minutes every two months--blood donations are also a no-brainer.
   I am once again posting some  links that will get you somewhere where you can learn more about the organ and blood donation process and how to get involved in both.

 http://organ-donation-works.org/english/home/
https://beadonor.ca/
http://www.blood.ca/

  
   Now all you need to do is....DO IT!!!
  
    

Man On Fire: My Face Falls Off

   It was a week ago that I stopped applying the Efudex cream. Oddly, my face started to feel less comfortable after I stopped. It became very dry and tight and sore to the touch.
   Then it began to peel.
   It peeled off in little chunks and large pieces. It was not the same kind of skin you end up peeling off after a sunburn, it almost seemed to have a charred steak look to it (very thin charred steak you must understand) and the skin underneath was still quite red-looking.
   I understand that it might take quite a while for normal-looking skin to re-appear---possibly weeks. This doesn't bother me too much, I put up with the already sun-damaged skin for years and am quite prepared to wait a long time for healthy stuff to emerge.

At the end of treatment...

...and a week later--slightly lighter
and you can see where it's been peeling.

   In the meantime, I am back to running and will soon be back to the gym as well. While the treatment was on, I'd been asked by the dermatologist not to do sweaty stuff and I attempted to heed her as much as possible. Hard as that was.
   My follow-up appointment is early in January. I'm hoping that this will have given my face the time it needs and we will go from there!

Man On Fire: Final Treatment

   Last night, I completed my final (I hope) Efudex application. Now to let the face heal and see what the outcome is!
   Along the way, I never experienced anywhere close to discomfort I'd been warned about by Dr. Horgan-Bell. I guess this is okay but, at the same time, I hope that the desired effect has been reached. I imagine that every patient is different and I hope that the level of sun damage I'd experienced was not severe enough to invoke a similar reaction as what I'd found on the internet or been warned about in the literature I'd been given at the doctor's office.
   Below is a pic of my face this morning. It still looks nasty but I can tell that it is changing for the better. For the last couple of days it has been, in very small sections, slowly peeling away. This was something I was expecting and , because I was expecting it, I find it gratifying and perhaps a little bit of evidence that the whole process has achieved its purpose. Time will tell!


Today. Perhaps a little lighter...

Couple of days ago.

   To the left is also the previous pic, for comparison sake. Not a lot of difference between the two!









Man On Fire: Day 16

   Today marks the start of my last week of Efudex treatment (unless you've been really paying attention, in which case it was actually yesterday) and apparently things are supposed to take a turn for the worse this week.
   I almost hope it does because so far there has been little change. I guess this is not unusual but I would like to start seeing some major progress here, discomfort or no.
   I have noticed one tiny little difference yesterday--as I was washing my face, a small little shred of skin peeled off. Hopefully this is a precursor to something a little more earthshaking. Then again, sometimes you need to be careful what you wish for...

Today's pic---maybe slightly darker...?



Previous pic.

   As you can see by the pics above, there hasn't been much change. I am a little more conscious these days, though, of being out and about and people looking at me. I don't really have a problem with them looking, I just feel this need to maybe explain.
   Hopefully, the next time I have a pic to post it will look a little more dramatic!
   Cheers!

 

Man On Fire: A Supportive Wife and A New Hat

   A couple of nights ago, as Doralyn and I were just hunkering down under the covers at bedtime, she finished reading my previous "Man On Fire" post, the "Vampire" one. She got to the part where I was promising faithfully to start wearing a broad-rimmed hat from here on in when I was out in the sun. She kind of grunted and commented, "I'll believe it when I see it."
   In reply, I made some joking comment about how nice it was, having a supportive wife like that.
   To her credit, she then went on to remind me of all the times she had been supportive and had almost begged me to buy and start wearing a different hat. She offered to buy me one many different times when we were out and about and saw them for sale somewhere. She has also reminded me constantly to wear sunscreen.

Doralyn

   It is not without a little bit of history that she is this supportive; eleven years ago, almost to the day of our bedtime conversation, her father passed away from skin cancer. Having to have lived through watching someone you love pass away from the ravages of this particular disease  would only make you that much more wary and vigilant with the rest of your loved ones. As much as she pesters me about the sun, you should hear rag on the boys!
   I have always been blessed with Doralyn's support, in all parts of my life. It matters not whether it's physical or emotional support--she is there, like a rock. Because of this, it is my fervent desire to always be there for her! And all five of our boys!
   And that is why I will be buying a new hat!
  
     

Man On Fire: The Vampire In Me

   As part of this ongoing Efudex treatment I am currently in the middle of, one of the things my dermatologist has told me is that I should avoid direct sunlight.
   I guess this sort of makes sense, when you're talking about an area of skin which is slowly being stripped of its protective covering then keeping it out of the sun seems like a really good idea.

   What I have found is that it's a little tricky avoiding direct sunlight. Almost impossible, actually, short of carrying around a Hallowe'en mask or some frilly little parasol. What I do know is that you are definitely very aware of whether you're in the sun or not when you've been on Efudex for a few days. As I mentioned in a previous post, the sensation is almost exactly the same as a bad sunburn and we all know how it feels walking around in the sun when you already have a nasty burn.

A vampire fries---not for ME, thanks!

   So now I am even more conscious of the sun than I was before. I am vampire-conscious of the sun, in fact! I have seen way too many B-movies where the lords of the undead either melted in the sun, sizzled in the sun or simply exploded in the sun as they found themselves trapped beneath its solar rays. Not for me!
   I do now find myself thinking back to how I ended up in this uncomfortable situation. I believe the biggest part of my mistake was thinking that a ball cap was protecting my entire head from the harmful effects of the sun. I am quite religious about carrying head protection around with me (just in case) and I wear a cap even if I'm just walking down to the corner.
   The problem, however, is that a ball cap will cover the top of your head nicely and keep the sun out of your eyes but that's about it.
   Over the years, in retrospect, I think my weekly game of golf has been the biggest culprit. I can't tell you how many times I would get back from an hour and a half of golfing with a bit of a ruddy glow on my cheeks and chest, where my shirt falls open. I never considered myself having been burned by the sun but the cumulative effect now has me where I am.
   Stupid me! It's not like I didn't know the sun was dangerous! But I have still gone out and done an inadequate job of protecting myself and this must change.


Hmm...this Tilley cap seems to be shading
not only ME but part of the boat as well!

   I will be getting a new hat, and wearing it for any protracted stays out in the sunshine. No more golfing with just a ball cap on! The new hat will have a broader rim which will go all the way around, something like the one to the right. No more of the standard (and way cooler) golfing ball cap, pictured below.


Shades my eyes---not my face!

   More sunscreen than I normally apply will be the order of the day, as well. And not just the head and face will get it!
   Obviously, this has all been a bit of a wake-up call for me and I'm hoping that it will resonate a little with anyone reading or hearing about it. I can't say that I am particularly worried about it right at the moment but that's not to say that it isn't worrisome!
  

Man On Fire: Day Ten

   So here I am at Day Ten of the Efudex treatment for sun damage on my face. The clinical name for this type of damage is actinic keratosis (AK). Here is a link to the Skin Cancer Foundation info page if you'd like to sneak a peek. This page also provides all sorts of links to where they talk about prevention, risk factors, treatment, etc.
   The spot on my left cheek is now a deeper red and is somewhat more tender. It feels very similar to a sunburn and, so far, is not too uncomfortable. At this point, however, I am only about half way through the twenty-one day treatment. Dr. Horgan-Bell, who I saw this morning, says that the discomfort will be at its worst at the end of the three weeks. At that point, hopefully, the healing process starts!

Day 10--today

Day 7 (previously posted as
Day 6--my math sucks!)

   Dr. Horgan-Bell also re-iterated that there should be no running, as this would only irritate things. She said I could walk and that was about it. I guess the perspiration is one of the biggest issues. My plan had been to sweet-talk her into letting me run under certain circumstances but she gave me a rather stern look at this point and my resolve kind of just floated away on the air. She also noted that I was self-treating a smaller spot on the other cheek and she didn't have a major problem with that but did suggest that I not go overboard.

Just think a little higher up...

   She also performed a cryotherapy treatment on the spot on my leg. This involves freezing the affected area with liquid nitrogen and then letting it heal naturally. This stung quite a bit while she was doing it but settled quickly
   I am on my own now for a couple of months as I don't see the doctor again until early January. Hopefully she will see a face devoid of the blotchies! You, dear readers, will get to see lots of blotchies over the next couple of weeks!

Man On Fire: Day Seven

   Almost a week ago, I started the Efudex treatment and, so far, there has not been a lot of change. The discomfort has been almost non-existent. If anything, the patch of skin on my cheek is a slightly deeper red now although this is hard to see on the pic I took.
   I've been reminding myself that, according to all the literature, the discomfort increases greatly during the second week of treatment. I am almost looking forward to this as it should give me more confidence that the Efudex is actually doing its thing. Right at the moment, it just feels like a mild sunburn.

Once again, my "before pic".

   I go back to see my dermatologist, Dr. Horgan-Bell, this Wednesday morning. If there's another side-effect (benefit) from all this it's that I'm now paying a little more attention to all the other little spots on my body and am planning on talking to her about them this week.


Day 7--not a lot of change but
a little more tender to the touch

   This weekend has constituted my "off" days--no application of the Efudex. This is to give my face some time to recover and I actually have a whole other cream to apply, to facilitate this. Because I was in such minimal discomfort, though, I haven't yet felt the need to apply any. I'm not sure if I'm being a good boy or not! Maybe later today...
   At any rate, it's back to the Efudex tomorrow and we'll see what the next week brings! Cheers!

Man On Fire: Before Pic

   Today was the day I began my three week Efudex treatment and I wanted to get a pic of what my face looked like before the treatment begins.
   Now, taking a close-up of my own face is something I rarely do and I now have several different versions on my phone. I'm including what I think is the best (believe me, there are no handsome versions...) to include on this particular blog post.
   At this point, I have no idea how fast things might change and I have no plans to post four or five days in a row if, for whatever reason, they all look almost identical. I also don't think anyone wants to look at my face every morning over coffee, not the best way to start the day
   As per instructions, I applied the cream twice today and, so far, I've felt no difference. One of the hardest tings is remembering not to touch your face in that spot. I've absent-mindedly done this a couple of times, just brushed my hand up against it, and it's really not something you want on your hands and fingers. After experimenting with Q-tips today, I've discovered that it's a touch more effective to use your finger, just have to remember to wash them thoroughly afterwards!
   I think I will continue to use the "Man On Fire" title whenever I have one of these updates, just for consistency's sake, so if you see that title pop up, you'll know it's another Efudex post. At that point, please feel free to either skip it or read it at your leisure and I will try and keep these posts as light as possible.
   Below is the "before pic",how my face looked just before I applied the cream.

Won't miss that red spot!

Man On Fire

   Tomorrow morning, I begin my three week adventure with Efudex cream. My dermatologist, Dr. Horgan-Bell has prescribed this treatment in order to clear up a case of keratosis on my left cheek.
   Keratosis is sun-related skin damage and is often a precursor to actual skin cancer. What Efudex does is destroy the already damaged skin cells so that they can be replaced with healthy ones. Unfortunately, along the way it also will destroy existing healthy cells as part of its "shock and awe" regimen. In its simplest terms, I will be giving myself what will feel like a really, really bad sunburn. As with most sunburns, the dead skin will eventually exfoliate, leaving healthy skin.

My new best friend...sort of.

   Several months ago, during my yearly physical, I spoke to my family doctor about a circular spot on my right calf which had not totally healed from a long course of cream application. He said that he would refer me to a dermatologist but that, due to a shortage of them here in London, it would likely be several months before I heard back. Well, it was several months but I finally got in.
   I had only been referred due to the spot on my leg but I asked her if it might be at all related to the spot on my face. Long story short...she decided to biopsy both and, then, not to take any chances with the spot on my face.
   So here I am.
   I have already run across a couple of blogs dedicated to peoples' adventures with Efudex and I am in the midst of trying to decide whether or not to spend a lot of time documenting my own. Frankly, the descriptions and pictures other people have posted are somewhat difficult to hear about and look at. I am sure that I will be documenting the journey for myself. The only thing I'm not sure of is how much of it to share. What I do know is that someone else sharing their trials and tribulations has helped give me a much better understanding of what might be in store. In return, I imagine it's possible that sharing mine might help someone else. So we'll see!

And It's Off To The Gym We Go!

   Back in May, after taking part as a guest in a couple of exercise classes with a co-worker, Doralyn decided to join the local Goodlife Fitness club.
   Since then, I'd been toying with the idea of joining, as well, and last week I finally took the plunge.

Hmmm,,,doesn't seem easy SO far!

   I've been running for a year now and have joined an online group of runners who also blog about their experiences. Many of them talk about the benefits of cross-training. Cross-training, for these purposes, refers to pretty well any other kind of physical training other than running itself. This might include such things as weightlifting, pilates, zumba, yoga, planking, spinning, and tai chi. Often, cross-training will include combinations of these activities.
   The human body is a very inter-related and co-dependent organism and having one part of it strengthened often will improve performance in another area. This, in turn, lead to overall performance enhancement.
   And overall performance enhancement is exactly what I'm after!
   Apart from that, what I wanted to work on was a little bit of upper body strength---when playing sports, my legs have always gotten me where I needed to go in timely fashion but when I got there I lacked the upper body strength to be able to accomplish what needed doing.

A lot of THIS goes on there...

   When I joined Goodlife, I also arranged for three sessions with a personal trainer. The two of us have been assessing where I'm at now, where I want to be in the future and what the time frame might look like for getting me there. He's familiarized me with the cardio and weight machines and talked about ways to switch up workouts. One of the things I've learned in the last week that I never would have guessed is that if you go into a gym and do exactly the same workout every single time then you will make almost no progress after a certain point. Your body simply accommodates and acclimatizes when it's no longer being challenged. Changing things up is fine by me, actually, I have no desire to head off to the gym on a regular basis and just do the same thing time after time!
   At this point, we are still trying to come up with a routine that gets us both to Goodlife on a regular basis and, hopefully, a lot of the time gets us there together. I do sense that we're pretty strongly committed, though, so I don't think this will be too much of an issue. In time, we'll be all trim and toned with lots of energy and healthy outlooks.
   But that'll probably be Week 3.... 
     
  

Sex In The Car (Not What You're Thinking)

   A few months ago, I hopped into a car along with Doralyn and two other close lady friends of ours. We were headed out on a short, out-of-town jaunt.
   As a group, we have known each other for over twenty years and there is very little we don't share. I don't really remember how we got onto this particular subject, but at one point one of the lady friends mentioned that she "doesn't do oral and she doesn't do anal". We, of course, all got the giggles at this point and life was fine. Her declaration seemed to almost toe the party line because, really now, who does do those things?
   At the time, however, this gave me great pause for reflection.
   As I mentioned, I have known this particular woman for a long time, have always found her to be extremely attractive and generally thought that her husband was quite the lucky guy.
   Until she made that comment.
   Now don't get me wrong, regardless of her opinion around those two particular practices, I still think he's a pretty lucky guy and I know many would agree with me. I think it's also possible that what gets said in a car among friends may not be what actually goes on at home between couples.
   The whole experience, though, reminded me to subtly re-think how I view people in general, particularly in terms of their attractiveness and/or sexuality. It all kind of gets back to that "beauty is only skin deep" thing we hear so much about. Just because a person is outwardly attractive doesn't mean that he or she is going to make a good sex partner, depending on what you're looking for in that regard. On the other hand, someone who may exhibit what might stereotypically be described as physical flaws may, at the same time, be quite liberated and adventuresome with their sexuality. Until you get right down to it, there's no telling.
   Much of our disposition towards what is sexually appealing is, of course, media-based. There is really no end to the supply of exquisitely shaped and groomed bodies out there in magazines, the internet and on T.V. and movie screens. We see them, of course, in a perfect light. Peel away the make-up and what you get is often much less than perfect. Beyond that, you may also get less than the perfect sex partner you've envisioned based on what you saw up there on screen. Great beauty often breeds great insecurity and an insecure person already has one strike against them when it comes to enjoying their own sexuality. In this way, physical beauty does not always guarantee a fulfilling (or fulfilled) sex partner.
   Hopefully, you can be comfortable with your own sexuality. After that, hopefully you can find someone who is comfortable with theirs. I think it creates a wonderful union when two like-minded individuals end up together in this way. It's not the be-all and end-all to a relationship, it's just a wonderful bonus!