Glenn - My Dad: 2011

Saturday, March 19, 2011

May 1, 2010 - As I approach the final days or weeks...

March 12 - 42 Days of Spring

I sat on the rocking chair on the front porch and watched the lightning storm in the distance. I needed more time to digest all that I was told by my doctor at the University of Chicago. I had just got home from the clinic where I was told that I had 6 weeks to live without treatment. With chemotherapy, I may live another 6 weeks. The doc was honest with me. He doubted that I would see Summer. He did say, it is possible for me to live a year, but the odds were against me. It appeared that my bone marrow function is shutting down. The blasts in the bloodstream increased 6 fold in just two weeks which indicates bone marrow failure. At some point, my white and red blood cells and my platelets will start to drop more than they have already. I asked him how I might die and he went into a few scenarios - all of which would be rather fast and easy to bare. I might not need hospice care. My leukemia nurse was a little more hopeful. She reminded me that I just survived a potentially fatal infection. My body has learned to adapt to extremely low blood counts. That could help me get me a little more time out of life.
Strangely, I am calm and accepting. Sure, I'm sad. But life has been good to me. Since I met Debbie, almost seven years ago, it's been wonderful. I have enjoyed my time on earth. It could have been a little longer, but it sure couldn't have been any better.
On Monday, I'll start a new chemotherapy drug. If that doesn't work, there is another one that can be tried.
I hope to get the full 12 weeks of Spring and, if lucky, I might get even more.

*******************************************************************
I went kayaking for the first time this year on Friday morning even though my infectious disease doctor warned me against it. She told me that the dirty river water could easily get into my open wound and cause another serious infection that my body may not be able to handle. The risk is rather minimal since I'm already destined to kick the proverbial bucket in just a few weeks. I resumed my hobby of being "the Kankakee River Litter Picker" by picking up cans, bottles, jugs and bags that were on the water's edge. I also picked up an inner tube and 8 tires dumped in the woods. One tire was there so long that an eight foot tree was growing right from the middle of it. I lifted the tire as high as I could, then I bent the tree down so that I could get the tire off. It wasn't an easy task, but it was sort of fun to do. I sure get my kicks in strange ways. Some people like fishing. I like litter pickin'. Go figure!
The picture below was taken on June 4, 2008 by a fisherman named Jerry at Ponderosa Lake. I was diagnosed the day before with Myelodysplastic Syndrome.

It seems that whenever I am troubled, I head to the water to be near Nature. Somehow, it comforts me.

Jan. 5, 2010 - 4 indicators... maybe 5

My doc at the University of Chicago Medical Center indicated that my disease may be transforming into Acute Myeloid Leukemia. (1) I have been battling persistent fevers which may indicate a progression of the disease. (2) There are immature blood cells, called blasts, in the blood stream. Three times worse than it was just a month ago. (3) I have nucleated red blood cells in my blood as well. Don't ask me what that is. All I know is that it isn't at all good. It started in September with numbers in the single digits. Now, the range is 66 to 143. (4) Rapid growth of abnormal white blood cells. Right now, we don't know if the the cells are abnormal, but we know that my white blood count has been increased 5 fold in the last few weeks. There may be a 5th indicator: The time span between blood transfusions may be getting much shorter.
In recent weeks, I also have a problem with weight loss. When I am overly fatigued or running a temperature (which is daily), I have no appetite. So when I feel reasonably good, I try to eat as much as possible to compensate for the times when I just can't eat at all. Since the beginning of the disease, I have lost 52 pounds.
My understanding is that when Myelodysplastic Syndrome transforms into Acute Myeloid Leukemia, my time on earth significantly shortens. I have no complaints. I was lucky enough to see all of 2009. I made the most of every precious day. It is doubtful, however, that I will see another Spring.
Life is hard, but life is good.

Dec. 31, 2009 - Happy New Year!

http://s373.photobucket.com/albums/oo172/GlennFriedman/?action=view¤t=byGlenn61230WishingYou4theNewYea-1.gif
After I got my diagnosis and the grim prognosis on June 3, 2008, it was just a hope and dream for me to see the Christmas of 2008. My dream was fulfilled. Then I saw fireworks in the distance from my bedroom window on New Year's Eve. I stuck around to see the Spring of 2009 and then came Summer and I was back on the river kayaking. Remarkably, I lasted through this flu season. Here it is Winter once again. And I am loving every minute of it - even the gloomy days. I am so glad to be alive. I don't know why I lasted this long, but I feel like every day is a gift.
In spite of all the bad and evil in life, I hope you are also able to focus on all the good and beautiful which still remains.
Happy Holidays and may God bless us everyone.

Dec. 15 - It's been a living nightmare...

My loving niece, Marla, died at 9:20pm on Saturday. She was just 41 years old. She died during the eight days of Hannukah, two days before her mom's birthday and right before Christmas - the most festive time of the year. It's been a living nightmare for all of us who have loved and cherished her. She's been such an intregal part of our lives. I can't imagine never talking to her again. She was almost like a daughter to me. She was so full of life and was so loving and giving of her time. I just can't believe this has happened to someone so young and so wonderful. She was a rose cut down while yet in full bloom.

Oct. 4 - Is it Evil to be merciful?

"In our society, a murderer gets more compassion than a person who has led an exemplary life and becomes terminally ill." - Marvin C. Arthur, Las Vegas, in a published letter to TIME Magazine, Oct. 9, 2000.
Is it Evil to be merciful?
Is it Good to ignore those in Hellish pain?

Years ago, on March 31, 2005, I wrote..."Is it kind to starve the teminally ill to death? Is it kind to let the terminally ill suffer in agony? Horses with broken legs are shot. Dogs and cats who are seriously ill and in pain are put to sleep. Murderers, convicted of capital crimes, are given a lethal dose, so that their death is not considered cruel by the federal courts. Yet, the terminally ill are often "sentenced" to a slow and horrific death without remedy or relief. This is a matter of compassion and mercy. Do we love enough to care?" No one, not one child of God, should be forced to spend the last days of life in pain and suffering.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For the first time in my life, I am no longer able to work for a living. I managed to work a full year while being terminally ill, but I just don't have the strength to do it anymore. I closed my business and warehouse in August, 2009. But the bills are still coming in and I don't have any way to pay them. This weighs heavy on my heart, but there is noting I can do about it. I don't have any kind of savings or retirement fund. No stocks or bonds or real estate. I didn't expect to get sick. I cerainly never expected to become disabled.
If you would like to contact me, write me at: Glenn4kindness@yahoo.com. Put in the subject heading: DO NOT DELETE so that I know it is a personal message and not spam. My snail mail address is: Glenn Friedman, P O Box 1112, Bourbonnais, IL 60914. I rarely ever use my phone in an effort to save minutes and money. Click here for information about Myelodysplastic Syndrome posted on Wikipedia.

Aug. 8 - After 27 years, it's adios amigos!

Due to a serious bone marrow disease, I decided it was best for me to close my candy business before the beginning of the new school year. I had concerns that some of my customers would call in orders and then, due to the illness, I wouldn't be able to make any more deliveries. As many of you know, I had major difficulties making deliveries during the past school year. I recognize that I am most fortunate to have lived this long. I was given a median life expectancy of just 5 months and I have lived far longer than that. I just don't want to push my luck any further. I really need to keep working, because I really need the money to pay my bills, but I have finally accepted the reality of my medical condition. Chemotherapy in combination with an experimental drug has kept me stable, but there is no cure. I consider the treatment to be a success since I am still alive and kicking.
For the last 27 years, I have been serving my customers and making deliveries. It's been more like a hobby than work since I loved it so much. I sure didn't want to close up the business.
By the way, if you still owe me money from last season, please pay me soon. Chicagoland Fund Raisers was my only source of income and now that's gone. Unfortunately, I never earned enough to have any savings or retirement fund. Instead, I am incredibly deep in debt. Please sent those past due checks to:

Glenn Friedman
Chicagoland Fund Raisers, Inc.
P O Box 1112
Bourbonnais, IL 60914

Ponderings on "This Life and the Next"

Lately, I've combined my appreciation of the spoken word with my love of photography by creating almost 100 images dealing with the struggles and meaning of life. For years, I have been concerned with kindness matters. Now that I am terminally ill, I have spent even more time thinking about loss and grief, justice and mercy, tolerance and forgiveness and the real important issues of life. I have created these little ponderings as a way to convey meaningful quotes to those who are also travelling on life's rough road.

May 9 - An amazing gift from strangers...

I've been helping churches, schools and other non-profits raise money by selling candy and cookies since 1982. It hasn't been a great money-maker for me. In fact, over the years, I have accumulated a lot of debt, but it's given me a richly, satisfying life serving others. It's never been a job to me. It's been too much fun, too fulfilling to call it work. It has always felt more like a calling or a mission.
After I got sick, I kept selling candy. My doc wanted me to quit work, but the bills kept coming and I needed to pay my financial obligations. It was good for me to get out of the house and be with people. I have always been active. Quiting the candy business and staying at home would have been very difficult for me.
Unknowingly, Martin Rodriguez of Von Steuben High School became a personal angel to me. When my sales started to significantly decline, he started ordering candy from me. Then, he got others at the school to order candy from me as well. He even helped me get the candy into school when I was too weak to carry the boxes. Then, he sensed - without me saying a word - that I was having financial difficulties. He consulted with Amy Wozniak and the two initiated a fund raiser for me.

Last Tuesday, M Rod and Miss Woz and seven high school students presented Debbie and me with a check for $1,000.00. It was the fund raising efforts of at least 22 girls who call themselves the "Wicked Web Women." I was astonished at the size of the check, their willingness to sacrifice their precious time to participate in this fund raiser and their generosity to a total stranger. As soon as the girls walked through the door, we felt their sweet spirits, the warmth of their personalities, their love and acceptance. At first, I thought how thrilled their parents must be with the beauty of their hearts and the loving kindness in their souls. Then, I thought how God must be smiling down upon them. They are the examples of the Good that we so desperately need in this world. When they serve others so selflessly, they are truly serving God. When I think of these girls, I can't help but think of that song from Alabama: "Angels among Us."
See pics of the girls in my photo album entitled "Angels Among Us."

Jan. 23 - I'm beating the odds...

My local oncologist told me yesterday that I am in decline: Erratic fevers, chills, sweats, shortness of breath, fatigue, heart palpitations are all part of this decline. He also pointed out that my transfusions are becoming less effective and beneficial. He didn't specifically say it, but he left me with the distinct impression that the end may be near. However, in ten days, on February 2nd, I will begin my 5th round of chemotherapy, but this time, with some kind of experimental drug. If the combination works, I might continue to beat the odds and live far longer than I ever expected. The chemotherapy leaves me very weak and tired for two weeks or more. If all goes well, I will start feeling better around the 20th of the month. According to the International Prognosis Scoring System, I had a median life expectancy of only 4 or 5 months, but I am still alive and kicking almost 9 months after the diagnosis of this disease.

Dec. 16, 2008 - It's my Christmas dream...

A few weeks ago, my son, Dan, asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told him there was nothing that he could buy. I simply wanted to wake up on Christmas morning. That would be, for me, the best Christmas present. That would be my Christmas hope. That would be my Christmas dream.
I had previously committed to undergo a risky bone marrow transplant in early December which may have extended my life or may have caused my early demise. Only 30% of the patients with my type of disease survive the 3 or 4 weeks in the hospital and the subsequent 90 days of isolation. A good number of those who survive relapse within 12 months.
In preparation for the transplant, I had a tooth extracted which had an infection at the very top of the tooth. That infection, which remained unnoticed for about three years, had destroyed bone mass and surrounding tissue. As a precaution, I postponed the transplant until the tissue and the bone had significantly healed. If I had stayed on schedule, I would have had the Cord Blood transplant on Monday, Dec. 15th. I was told the following few days after transplant would have been critical - the possiblity that I could have met my Maker by mid December. That prospect of a premature death caused me quite a bit of anxiety, tension and stress.
On Saturday, Nov. 29th, I reconsidered my commitment to the transplant and decided to let Nature take its course.
Yesterday, I discussed my options with my new oncologist at the University of Chicago. I reaffirmed my recent change of heart to skip the life-threatening or life-prolonging procedure. I am now scheduled for another bone marrow biopsy on December 23rd to determine the status of my bone marrow disorder. Then on January 5th, I will start a clinical trial which may possibly help or hurt, but at least it doesn't cut my life short. I so much want to wake up on Christmas morning and on my 5th wedding aniversary on Dec. 27. That's my Christmas hope. That's my Christmas dream.

Dec. 5 - Approaching the "End of the Line"

On November 25th, an oral surgeon exclaimed "You can't get a bone marrow transplant with this infection in your mouth!" I had a problem with a tooth roughly three years ago. Anti-biotics didn't help, but when the pain eventually subsided, I forgot about it. Now, this hidden infection deeply concerns me as I sit in the oral surgeon's office discussing my options. The tooth, he says, can easily be saved. But I think to myself, "Do I want to save the tooth or do I want to save my life?" That was an easy decision. I told him to just yank it. I don't want that tooth and the hidden infection to be the cause of my death during the transplant process. Then, I wondered, why in the world would he even discuss saving the tooth when my life is on the line?

Ever since that day, I have had numerous second thoughts and many sleepless nights about the upcoming transplant. Last Wednesday, I learned that a recent cat scan picked up the cyst in my mouth, but the doctor reviewing the scan failed to notice the anomaly or forgot to note it. All of the blood and urine tests didn't pick up the mouth infection. Yet this infection, now removed, had the potential to kill me. It's a little bit scary.

Last night, as I lay on the couch, I had an unusual dream: I was sitting in a train when I heard the conductor's voice say that it was the end of the line. As I exited the train, I saw two tunnels each with a sign at the top noting their respective destinations. One tunnel had a destination marked "Imminent Death." The other tunnel had the destination called "Slight Hope." At first, it seemed clear that the only viable option was to take the tunnel marked "Slight Hope." So, I walked down that darkened tunnel until I boarded the next train out of the station. The first stop on this train was called "Pain & Suffering." The next was called "Isolation." The next stop was called "Unemployment" followed by "Bankruptcy" and "Emotional Havoc." The next few stops were a blur, but one of them was marked "Medical Center." It was a long, awful, dark ride. I never saw the light of day. Finally, I heard the conductor say "we are approaching to the end of the line." I was delighted to get off, but then I approached two dark tunnels with those familiar signs. One was marked "Slight Hope" and the other was marked "Imminent Death." "Oh no," I thought. Did I relapse? This time, I stood in the train station a long, long time and pondered which train to board. That's when I woke up.

Still, I can see the two signs: "Imminent Death" and "Slight Hope." Still, I don't know which train to board.

Nov. 29, 2008 - I'm in no hurry...

Nov. 2, 2008 - For you, My Lady Love in honor of our 5th Wedding Anniversary on December 27, 2008...

Nov. 18, 2008 - Look for the every-day miracles of life...

Many years ago, I was suffering from a severe depression.
I saw a therapist. I attended support groups.
I went dancing almost every night.
Nothing seemed to lift my spirits for more than a few hours.

I tried watching the evening news
thinking that misery loves company.
Well, it just made me more miserable,
hopeless and depressed.

Then, one day, I tried a new approach to end my inner suffering.
I decided to light my darkness by finding
something good, something beautiful, something wonderful
about each passing day.

Ever so slowly, my dark and dreary world
was penetrated by small beacons of light and hope:
the morning sunrise, an elderly couple holding hands,
a baby's smile, the sight of a bright red cardinal.

By focusing on the good
and not dwelling on the bad,
I put my overwhelming depression
into a distant memory.

Even now, while I am going through
the BIGGEST trial of my life,
I remain calm and at peace.
I'm loving life and trying to enjoy every minute of it.

Don't dwell on the Bad.
Focus on all of the Good.

I am so thankful for so many treasured memories.

Nov. 14, 2008 - It can extend my life, but it could also kill me...

Next month, I'll enter the hospital to undergo a blood cord transplant. I'll be subjected to high doses of radiation and possibly chemotherapy. The intent is to kill off all of the bad cells with the hope that my bone marrow will eventually start to function properly. Right now, the marrow is not producing sufficient red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets. The procedure is rather risky for my type of disease. Only 50% of those in my class and type of disease survive the 3 weeks in the hospital and the subsequent 100 days in isolation. I'm in rather good health, so my doc feels that I should be able to make it through the hellish ordeal. If I am one of the lucky survivors, I still have a 25 to 50% chance of getting a major medical complication for the rest of my life. I also have a 60% chance of relapsing within 1 or 2 years. These odds are not all that great, but if I don't go ahead with the transplant, I have a 100% chance of kicking the bucket. My doc said that only 10% of patients with my type of disease make it six months. So far, I have made it almost 7 months. I know the end is near unless I go for the transplant.

I'm gettin' ready for one heck of a ride!

Nov. 12, 2008 - I'll let Nature takes its course...

I am a very patient man.
I'm in no hurry to see what's on the Other Side.
I don't mind sticking around here for a long, long time.

It's not, however, up to me.
God had tapped me on the shoulder in the Spring
and told me that my time here is coming to an end.

So, I'll simply go with the flow
and let Nature take its course.

When I pass from this life and go into that Great Unknown,
I will leave with a heart filled with gratitude to God and
wonderful memories that will bring comfort to my soul.

I don't understand the ways of our Creator, but
I love Him and I trust Him.
Most importantly, I will always thank Him
for a truly wonderful life.

November 11 - I've been given the Gift of Life

Since my diagnosis on June 3rd, 2008, I have received 7 transfusions of red blood (14 units) and 9 transfusions of platelets. If it wasn't for a great many caring, annonymous donors, I would have already entered that Great Unknown. Thanks to them, I am still alive.
If you would like to donate blood to help people like me, go to http://www.redcross.org/donate/give/.
Please consider giving the Gift of Life.

November 06 - I didn't write this, but it's exactly how I feel...

Today, when I awoke, I suddenly realized that this is the best day of my life, ever!
There were times when I wondered if I would make it to today; but I did! And because I did, I'm going to celebrate! Today I going to celebrate what an unbelievable life I have had so far; the accomplishments, the many blessings, and yes, even the hardships, because they have served to make me stronger.
I will live this day with my head held high and a happy heart. I will take time to marvel at God's seemingly simple gifts, the morning dew, the sun, the clouds, the trees, the flowers, the birds. Today, none of these miraculous creations will escape my notice.
Today I will share my excitement for life with other people. I'll make someone smile. I'll go out of my way to perform an act of kindness... Today I'll give a word of encouragement to someone who seems down. I'll pay someone a sincere compliment. I'll tell a child how special they are. And I'll tell someone I love, just how deeply I care for them and how much they mean to me.
Today is the day I quit worrying about what I don't have, and start being grateful for all the wonderful things God has already given me. I'll remember that to worry is just a waste of time, because my faith in God and His divine plan insures everything will be just fine.
And tonight, before I go to bed, I'll take a stroll outside and raise my eyes to the heavens. I will stand in awe at the beauty of the stars and the moon and the majesty of the universe and I will praise God for these magnificent treasures.
As the day ends, and I lay my head down, I will thank the Almighty God for the best day of my life. And I will sleep the sleep of a contented child, and yet excited with expectation, because I know tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life, ever!
- Gregory M. Lousig-Nont, Ph.D "The Best Day of My Life"

Nov. 5, 2008 - Life, Success and Wisdom

Debbie took this pic of me on Nov. 2, 2008:

Life is, indeed, a wondrous gift. - Anne Roiphe

There is only one success - to be able to spend your life in your way. - Christopher Morley

It's taken me all of my life to understand that it is not necessary to understand everything. - Rene Coty

The road to wisdom? Well, it's plain
And simple to express:
Err
And err
And err again,
But less
And less
And less. - Piet Hein

The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook. - William James

Who is wise? He that learns from everyone. - Benjamin Franklin