My Friend Cancer

8/14/2019 My Friend Cancer

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My FriendCancer

A True Life Dramedy

By Ira Cohen

Author of Nothing Else



Dedication

This book is dedicated to my wife Jane who has been myrock. Without her my attitude would not be as positiveas it is. Without her life would not mean as much. Andwithout her I would not be the person I am today. Thebook is also dedicated to Jake and Ben, my boys. They

are the joys of my life, and my reason for being. I can’ttell you how lucky I am to have them in my life.

And to My Friend Cancer, who made this book possible.



Prelude

So why call the book, “My Friend Cancer.” It seems more thanobvious to me. Of course, nobody wants cancer. Unfortunately itchooses you, not the other way around. Much like your parents.Would you have chosen the exact ones you have if you had gottento make a choice? In my case yes, but I don’t think that is truefor everyone.

Like it or not, my cancer is here to stay. We hope that it takesoccasional extended vacations, but unless someone finds a cure,

or I die of something else, I had to get use to it. In some ways itis my best friend. I seem to spend all my time with it. It appearsthe more I want it to go away the more it hangs around.

So I only had one choice, treat it as a friend. It goes everywhereI do, and actually controls most of what I can and can’t do. Iwant to go to the Jet game today, but my friend says no. Maybenext week the answer will be yes. I’m not in full control.

Passive/aggressive behavior is not the kind of behavior I like inmy friends, but I have learned to accept it from my friendCancer.

Kind of like a family member who has overstayed their welcome.Only in this case I want it to stick around for the next twenty

years or so. The alternative is not good. So I have tried to makethe most of it. And in doing so, I have become a better person.

Whether you have cancer, are affected by someone who does, orare just affected, I hope you have a few laughs. My intention is

just that. Enjoy.



Chapter 42 – The K-Y Moment

Ok. Let me start at the beginning. Actually I guess I will startat the middle. At least what was supposed to be the middle. Thetime when most men are thinking about normal midlife crises, likecheating on their wives, buying a new sports car, or generallytrying to relive their youths. Not me…I’ll leave that to the guyswith deep pockets and small penises. As you will see, I wouldrather be the guy with a small penis than have this story to tell.Let me be honest for a second. I have to continue this storybecause it sort of is my midlife crisis, and by the way, I did buy a

sports car and my penis size is, well, none of your business.So one day minding my own business, at age 42, I begin what Ithink will be just another day. A stroll in the park so to speak.But as I am crossing the street, I get hit by a messenger ridinghis bike. That launches me forward where I am instantly struckby a car. That would be enough to make for a bad day for mostpeople. But not for me. Just my luck, a truck carrying a full load

of horse manure gives me one final whack.

I know, nobody is buying this. And you shouldn’t be. It’s not true.In fact the story I am going to tell has had a greater impact onmy life, and those around me, as the bike, car and truck (filledwith horse manure), would have.

Although I am not sure at this moment whether or not there will

be a point to my story, I hope that it brings some comfort andhumor to those who read along. Several things you should know,my name is Ira (it would have been Ivan if not for my grandpacoming into the hospital room and yelling out Ivanhoe.) I am 50

years old and wish I was writing “Miracle on the SeventeenthGreen” instead of my story. Golf is and always will be more fun



than, ok time to get it out of the way, Cancer, the Big C, the wordthat makes grown man cry, and woman look for the life insurancepolicies. Just kidding. But it is comforting to know that I haveenough insurance for my family to throw me a nice little funeralwith plenty left over for the good things in life.

As most men my age should do, or have to do just to get your wifeto stop nagging them, I go for a physical. Very normal you wouldthink. Everything is going along just fine until the turning point inthe story…the snap of the rubber glove. You all know what I amtalking about. Now a little dab of K-Y and we are off to the

races. I let Dr. Zitomer know that this is not my favorite part.He says, “not mine either.” But of course there are twosignificant differences, I am paying him, and he went to medicalschool for the privilege of inspecting my butt. I wasn’t bornthinking, “oh I cant wait until I turn forty so I can have anothermiddle-aged man with a plastic glove full of K-Y jelly put hisfinger up my butt.” I know, some people would find thisentertaining, but not me.

In any case, this actually was the turning point in my life. A smallstool sample was taken and a little spec of blood appeared. Ofcourse this was no big deal. We will just take a little blood andsee what we find out. So that comes back to show that myhemoglobin level was low. I must be bleeding from somewhereinternally. So what’s next. This will make the snap of the gloveseem like entertainment. “Ira” Dr. Zitomer says” I think you

ought to go for a Colonoscopy.

I feel the need to take one step back here. The reason I went forthe physical in the first place is that my family has a history ofdying young from heart attacks. Let me ask you, how did I go



from checking out my heart to a Colonoscopy. Not at all what Isigned up for.

I am about to introduce the next doctor in the story but havedecided this is the perfect time to give you the opening creditsof this story. Instead of you figuring out who the players are as

you go along I figured why not introduce you to the cast rightnow.

Jane – the love of my life for the past twenty one years.Jake and Ben – my sons and the reason I will fight to the very

end.My father – who died twenty three years ago but still today,plays a very important part of my life,My mother – who is very much alive and plays a big part in my lifein a very different way.My sister Laura and brother Phil who play a supporting role. Ishould also give honorable mention to my sister-in-law Judy, whois the best crier you will ever meet.

Dr. Zitomer – the GP and the one who really made this storypossible.Dr. Stein – the scope guy who has gone where no man has gonebefore.Dr. Chevinsky – the surgeon who has rearranged my insides like hewas playing with a jigsaw puzzle.Dr. Farber – the cancer guy, who is in charge of giving me thenews, good, bad or ugly.

And the very special guest stars that I would have dedicated thisbook to if not for having dedicated it to my loving wife. TheNurses…Patrice, Pam, Michelle, all those on Franklin Four (thecancer wing), and to all the others I may have left out. My friend



Paul once wrote a note to them…”thanks for taking such good careof my friend.” Nothing could be more right on.

And I must mention my friends and co-workers who have beenthere for me everyday of this drama. Their daily support hasbeen a blessing. More about all of them later.

I hope that when you finish this book you will have beenentertained and understand that although cancer often meansthe end of your life, it can be filled with joy, humor, depression,sadness and did I say humor. As I end this chapter I will leave

you with this thought. Attitude is everything. If it wasn’t wouldTony Roberts have been able to turn it into a billion dollar empire.I guess he has a point, but I think he made it on the first page ofthe first book he ever wrote. I hope this book keeps youentertained throughout. I wish I knew now whether the book wasgoing to have a message. If I did, I could give you the messageright now, and we would be done. If that was the case, I would behard pressed to charge you more than a quarter to buy this book.

I guess I now understand Tony Roberts’ point. Attitude iseverything, as long as you can write two hundred books that saythe same thing and people will keep buying them. As you can see…Tony Roberts, I am not.



Chapter 43 – The first day of the rest of my life

So once the word colonoscopy comes into your vocabulary yourlife is definitely going to change. I’m not talking about just onetime, I’m talking about a recurring theme. I went for my firstcolonoscopy with Dr. Stein (see credits) several weeks after theK-Y moment. Before we got started the doctor was kind enoughto ask me if I wanted to know any more about the procedure. Itold him, after seeing a big black hose with a camera attached tothe end of it come into the room, I thought the fewer questionsthe better.

I’m not saying the colonoscopies are fun, but I must admit thatthe drugs they give you are quite wonderful. You remembernothing and when you await you are in la-la-land. As an addedbenefit at no extra charge they give you pictures of what theysaw inside. I’m talking beautiful color pictures. Unfortunatelyone of them was a four inch tumor. Although Dr. Stein wouldn’tsay whether he thought it was cancer or not, I think he had a

pretty good idea. A little side note is that my wife still carriesaround the picture in her purse to this very day. When she seesan old friend she always takes out the pictures…this is Jake, thisis Ben, this is Ira, and of course, this is Ira’s tumor. The looks onpeople’s faces are priceless.

So, of course, the biopsy of the tumor was inconclusive. But onething was sure, we needed surgery to get it out of my body. The

next challenge was to find the perfect surgeon. Although the yellow pages were an option, we thought better of it. So we gotreferrals from about ten different sources and two names alwaysrose to the top. I went with Dr. Chevinsky for three reasons, hewas highly recommended, he was suppose to have a great bedsidemanner, and the third reason was…he was not the other guy. I



played softball against the other guy and was not very found ofhim. Thinking that he may feel the same about me, I decided itwas better that I didn’t put my life in his hands. I sometimesmake good decisions.

So we met with Dr. Chevinsky to discuss everything and he wasvery thorough. No talk about cancer at this point, we would justwait and see. I really should have been a little more worried atthis point than I was. But to show you how messed up mypriorities are sometimes, I selfishly asked him if the surgerycould wait two weeks. He said yes, but why? I was suppose to go

to LA to shoot a commercial and wanted to finish it before I wentunder the knife. When we finished the shoot they had a big cakemade for me, in the shape of a colon of course and I fly back toNew Jersey to begin my journey.

The day before surgery I go back to my office at AT&T headquarters where I am Director of Marketing Communicationsfor the Consumer business. That means that myself and a lot of

folks on my staff were responsible for the advertising. My officewas beautiful, a corner office with a courtyard outside thewindows. It was set-up like a conference room, because we hadso many damn meetings there was never one available. As Ireturned to the office I notice on my door that they have a signup sheet for use of the office while I am out. Now don’t youthink that they could have waited until I was out of the building.Let the corpse get cold for goodness sake.

So off to the hospital I go early the next morning. Nothing likehaving a million people dressed in white telling you what’s going tohappen. Just give me the drugs and do your job. I don’t need thedetails. But of course they have to tell me to cover their asses.Insurance companies…I will leave my political views out of this.



But I do love the one they have to tell you before you sign thefinal piece of paper. “Although it is unlikely, one to two percentof patients do die during surgery.” Thanks.

So for the next eight hours or so I am not exactly sure whathappened. There a very beautiful nurse who may have takenadvantage of me, but I guess I will never know. I do know thatwhen they were done I would no longer have eighteen inches ofmy large intestine, and as another added benefit, neither would Ihave my appendices. Another freebie. Actually it was attachedso it either had to come out or they would have had to tape it to

my liver. The decision seemed obvious. So on the bright side, Iwill never get appendicitis. That’s a good thing.

So finally after eight hours I was coherent enough to ask thequestion. “So?” The looks on my wife and my mothers face said allI needed to know. CANCER…The Big C. But the news was not allbad. They thought they had gotten it all.



Chapter Next– So where do we go from here.

So now I know that I have just had a cancerous tumor removedfrom my body. The doctors we pretty sure they had gotten it allbecause it appeared to be isolated. I guess I was scared at themoment, because we started to talk about the next steps. Eventhough they thought they got it all, precaution was recommended.A six month round of chemotherapy was advised and I figuredbetter safe than sorry. But still in the back of my head I wassure that cancer wasn’t going to be a problem. As I told all my

friends and family to lighten the moment…I had seen the list ofwhat people die of and I was listed as heart attack.

In fact I wasn’t completely kidding. Of course I hadn’t seen anylist but I had been programmed to think that I would eventuallydie of a heart attack. After all, my dad, several cousins, andothers in the family had all died early of heart attacks. And I ammy father’s child.

Abdominal surgery is not a fun thing. After Dr. Chevinsky hadtaken all of my parts out of my body, rearranged them and stuckthem back in, I didn’t feel very well. Go figure. They are notaverse to giving you as many drugs as they can to keep youcomfortable. I must be the only patient in the history of thehospital who asked the nurses to do away with the morphine. Ontop of feeling like crap I started to hallucinate. I was sort of

losing my mind. And I thought hallucination was suppose to be agood thing. Not so.

Now here I am in the hospital, completely out of it and there areabout a dozen people in my room. I’m not sure what they weredoing there but it seemed to me if there was a keg of beer in the



room they never would have left. At least until the beer wasgone.

My mother was there every minute of every day. She anticipatedmy every need. One thing you can say about my mom, if you are inneed she will be there. One of my favorite things was to have acold washcloth on my forehead. She kept them coming. Onenight when I had a bunch of friends visiting, my friend Colleengot me a cold cloth. My mother looked like someone had juststolen her wallet. From that point on I made sure that no oneelse gave me a cold cloth. That was Moms job.

Jane was also always there for me. I couldn’t live without her.Her visits were quieter than most. She would come, say hi, fallasleep, wake-up, ask me if I needed anything and would go hometo keep our lives going. I enjoyed the peaceful moments and hadlittle interruption in watching reruns of “Law and Order” for thetenth time each day.

Friends kept coming in and out of my room, although I wasn’t avery sociable host. One benefit to major surgery and a lengthystay in the hospital is lots of gifts. I got some of the mostcreative gifts known to man. Besides the normal stuff, I got onegift that stands out from the rest. My friend Don comes into theroom, and says “I’m sure you don’t have one of these.” It was anexpensive, hand carved, numbered, wooden, piece of art. Did Imention that it was about eight inches tall? Don was fond of

saying that it was actual size. I’m sure I didn’t mention that itwas a Gary Coleman carved statue. Not by Gary Coleman, of GaryColeman. Don was right, I didn’t have one. In the age of politicalcorrectness, what was I to do with an eight inch high little blackman in my room? I had my wife take it home for safe keeping.So safe, I haven’t seen it since.



There was also a banner in the room. Ira before: Ira after; Forthose of you who are saying, huh…it was a colon before and a semicolon afterward. Remember eighteen inches of my colon wereremoved. Most of you get it now, and for those who don’t, Isuggest we move on.

Staying connected to the world is difficult when you are in thehospital. Being the type of person I am, staying connected isincredibly important. Feeling valued is vital. So as the sayinggoes, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Why in the world are

cell phones not allowed in the hospital? They haven’t interferedwith any vital hospital equipment ever. I really don’t know if theyhave or haven’t, but I was willing to risk it. So I put my cell phoneon vibrate, hide it in my bed and stay connected with the world.But that’s not enough for me. How can anyone live today withoutemail? They don’t allow wireless connections in the hospital. Iguess for the same stupid reason as the cell phone. Finding anEthernet connection was difficult. So the next best thing is to

crawl under your roommate’s bed, unplug his phone, plug in thelaptop, and low and behold we have dial-up. Since I had no placeto go, I wasn’t in any real hurry. Dial-up would be just fine.

This is starting to sound like fun, but I can tell you it was not.After ten days I was sprung and began the next journey.Chemotherapy has now entered the building, so to speak. I gotgoing with the treatments about three weeks later. All the side

effects you can possibly get, I get. Just my luck. But I figurethis is a temporary thing, six months, so I should be able totolerate it very well. That was the case for the first fourmonths. Then I was tired of feeling like shit and wanted to stop.This was supposed to only be preventative anyway. I thought



better of it, stuck it out, and began what I thought, was to livehappily ever after. I was not quite correct.



Chapter 1 – Who am I

Before I get to much deeper into the story I think it is abouttime for you to know who I am. IBC – Ira Before Cancer. Butwithout spoiling the ending I will tell you one thing. When youread the last page, I will still be alive. And that my friends, is agood thing. At least for me.

I was born and raised in Englewood, New Jersey by Pincus andThelma Cohen. I didn’t pick their names, so please don’t blamethat on me. I have an older brother Philip and a younger sister

Laura. For those of you following closely, that makes me themiddle child, or in many eyes, the tough one. I don’t necessarilyagree, but I guess that’s what makes me the tough one.

From all accounts my early years were pretty normal. We didn’thave a lot of money but my parents were sure to give useverything we needed. My sisters favorite meal was leftoverspaghetti fried in a pan. Nothing was too good for us. One fine

day I happen to have a temper tantrum which just happened to becaught on 8mm film and replayed at every family function for years to come. There was no sound but the vision of me jumpingup and down on my baseball glove for about two minutes hasprovided family and friends with hours of enjoyment over the

years.

At age thirteen I encountered my only stay in the hospital until

recently. I was at camp in Pennsylvania, like any good Jewish boyfrom New Jersey. I developed an infection that turned into acyst on the top of my leg. It was enormous and had to bedrained. Now I’m in the middle of No-Place-Ville, Pennsylvania,without my parents, entering a hospital. You know, thirty-seven

years later, it still doesn’t seem right. In any case, I’m put into a



room with three other men. The average age of the three musthave been about two hundred. One of the men was so old that histoe-nails had grown together. I tell you this only because it wasthe only memory of being in the hospital before the K-Y momentbegan. I also happened to be able to throw in a few facts aboutmyself.

Moving right along. Having not a lot of guidance in choosing acollege, I went to the University of Hartford. Why Hartford?During my tour of the campus I met a girl who I liked, and thatbecame the tie-breaker in picking a college. I’m glad to say that

Jake, who will be attending the University of Delaware in the fall,used a little more criterion than his dad. (Jake Note: this isn’tnecessarily true, I pretty much decided for the same reason, plusthe track team. It all worked out though, no worries.)

A better question at this point, is why am I choosing my college years as the next topic in the Who Am I section of the book? Ihope my kids don’t read this part, but besides cancer, my college

years were the only other terminal disease that I have had.Looking back, I should have, or at least could have, died manytimes in college. I was young, stupid and had no clue that I was adestructive human. We didn’t have quite the awareness of theharms of drinking, drugs, driving, that kids growing up have today.

My wife always insists that the reason I am so hard on my kids isthat I am afraid that they will be like me. And not make it to the

other side. My kids are great and nothing like I was. My majorconversation with my mother when I was their age consisted oftwo words…out and later. Those were the answers to thequestions…where are you going? And when are you coming home?No wonder I had the occasional shoe fly by my head.



I decided early on that I wouldn’t get married until I was aroundthirty. I wanted to make sure that I did all the crazy things Ineeded to do before I got married. I wanted to make sure thatwhen I found the right woman, or she found me, it would lastforever. Like any marriage, it’s had plenty of ups and downs, butfar more ups. And life with Jane has never been better.

To tell you how wild I was in my early days, Jane’s mom, Naomi,was in a mall one time and ran into someone that Jane had gone toHigh School and College with. During their conversation, Naomimentioned that Jane had just gotten engaged. In fact, she was

sure that the old friend would know me, since we all went to thesame college. When Jane’s mom said my name, Ira Cohen, the oldfriend hesitated for a minute and than uttered the words that Ibelieve Naomi took with her to her grave…”I knew an Ira Cohen incollege, but she wouldn’t be marrying him.”

With that said, Jane and I have gone on to have a wonderfulmarriage. Just a side note here…my sister-in-law Judy’s

greatest crying moment in a life full of crying moments was at ourwedding. She started crying at rehearsal and stopped aboutmidway through our honeymoon. Some people use the old joke,“our twenty one years of marriage have been the best ten yearsof my life.” Not me…it’s been at least fifteen great ones. AddingJake and Ben to our family has made my life complete. Wait aminute, a guy with cancer shouldn’t use the word “complete.”

There is only one time I was in the hospital for an extendedperiod of time when I was not the sick one. Jake was three andBen was only a few months old, when Jake came down with a rareillness called Kawasaki’s disease. No, he didn’t catch it fromriding a motorcycle. I will tell you, that I would have tradedplaces with him in a minute. To see your three year old go



through what he went through in the hospital was pure torture.It made fighting cancer seem like a breeze.

I’m not sure if the last few pages have given you enough insightinto who I am, or at least was, before cancer. This snapshot ofmy life leaves out many incredible and not so incredible events inmy life. I have been fortunate to have the life that I have had. Iwill leave you with just two quick moments that I hold dear to myheart. The first is when this little ninety pound kid hit a homerunover the fence in little league. Every time we drive by the field,my family now just says in unison…”we know.” The other moment

is when Charles Barkley, while we were shooting a commercial,told me that I was one funny white man. I live for that.



As we all know by now, my cancer did come back. I suppose Ishould tell you how it was found even though it doesn’t reallymatter. Back it was, with much more force than the first time.I’m getting ahead of myself. At the moment we are about to talkabout, I had no idea of it’s severity.

Around August 1st , 2002 I went to the hospital with what waseither chest or high abdomen pain. Once again I was afraid Imight be having as Redd Foxx use to say, “The big one.” Theemergency room is a wonderful place. Nothing like ER ontelevision. It appears to be a no stress zone. No matter what

the problem, the nurses in the ER take their time. Not that thecare is bad. It’s not bad at all. They have just seen it all anddon’t get excited.

They looked at all the possibilities. First we ruled out any kind ofheart problem, so “The big one” was again on hold. They decidedthat it was most likely something to do with my gallbladder orpossibly an abdominal problem. Tests were necessary to figure

out what was going on. But of course the tests would have to waituntil the morning. Once again I would be able to use my frequentflyer miles to get a room with a view on Franklin Four.

In the morning I was sent for a sonogram of my gallbladder. Itsounded good to me. A cute nurse massaging my belly. There areworse things in life. Plus insurance was paying for it. Much likethe K-Y moment earlier, this was a moment that will map out the

course for the rest of my life. While doing the sonogram theywere having trouble finding the gallbladder. There was somethingin the way. It could have been something like a bagel, but Ihadn’t had any breakfast yet. So what was it? It was a tumorthe size of a football.



I didn’t know the results yet, but Dr. Zitomer, my GP, stopped by just to say hi after seeing my name on the hospital computersystem. A harmless drop by he thought. I could tell as he waslooking at my chart that something was wrong. He had that deerin the headlights look about him. But it certainly was not his jobto give me the news. After all, he was just there for a visit.

Dr. Chevinsky, my surgeon with the bedside manner, who was notthe other guy, came into the room. He let me know that my liverwas playing this football game and it would have to be removed.But before we carve me up like a turkey I should go for a million

tests to see what else they find. Six billion dollars worth oftests later, it appeared to be just a big, ugly tumor that theycould go in and remove, along with the left node of my liver andmy gallbladder. Another freebie.

Back to surgery I go, with all the same people with all the sameinstructions. And the old, “although it is unlikely, you could dieduring surgery. Please sign here.” When the surgery was

complete, Dr. Chevinsky emerged from the operating room, sawJane and my mom, and shook his head. It was not the up anddown motion that you hope for. If you move you head from leftto right you will understand what I mean. You did it, didn’t you?That makes me happy.



Chapter Meow

At the moment, just weeks earlier, Cancer was the further thingfrom my mind. After being a dog person my whole life it isinteresting that I end up as Director of Marketing for a cat foodcompany…The Meow Mix Company. To make a long story short, webought several brands from Purina when they were beingpurchased by Nestle.

After being with one of the biggest companies in the world for so

many years, AT&T, this was quite a change. AT&T had gotten sodepressing that I could have three people come into my officecrying on any given day. Now I can tell you that the environmentthere was not healthy. Leaving turned out to be one of the bestthings that ever happened to me.

During the several months I was out of work, I played quite a bitof golf with my friend Mike. You would think that my golf game

would have improved, maybe it did slightly. One day Mike camehome from a consulting job he had just finished up. The very lastday he met, Richard, who is now the CEO and Top Cat of TheMeow Mix Company. Richard is an incredible entrepreneur whoknows what he wants and goes for it. He had known Mike forabout thirty seconds when he offered him a job as the numbertwo guy in a company that didn’t even exist yet. Little did I knowthat that decision was going to be one that would have a great

effect on my life.

I met Richard several days later and started to do someconsulting work for him to help with the transition from Purina.Remember, I told you when Richard wants something he goes forit. Well, I was not officially offered a job for about two months.



Not the I want you attitude he is known for. At first Richardwasn’t sure whether he liked me or not. In retrospect, I think hewas sure…he didn’t like me. Maybe it was my abrupt New YorkJewish act. Who knows? But he knew I could do the job. Andalthough he couldn’t figure it out, everyone else seemed to likeme. So he kept me around, offered me the job and it has beenincredible.

The group of people we put together to run this company arefabulous. We are a small group who all have a stake in thebusiness and work together well. No Politics. No promotions. No

bull. Just get the job done. Grow the business. Find buyers.Which we did. And do it all again. Which we are. Some changefrom the environment at AT&T the last few years.

When my cancer unexpectedly returned, this group of folkscouldn’t have been more wonderful, supportive and understanding.The hardest thing for me to deal with was the look of pity onpeople’s faces when they talked to you. I was no longer Ira, I was

the guy with Cancer. I had to work hard to get the folks to thinkof me just the way they used to. Oh sure, please pray for me.I’m for all the help I can get. But please don’t pity me. Peopleget cancer, that’s a fact. You never want it to be you or anyone

you know, but we don’t get to choose.

I had to use humor to lighten the early moments to get people tounderstand I was dealing with it and they should not worry about

me. We would be sitting in a meeting and all of a sudden someonewould be disagreeing with me about something. To break thetension I would say, “Did I mention I have cancer?” The roomwould crack up, and we would put things quickly back intoperspective. I also would call myself “cancer boy” from time totime just to keep things light.



You don’t really know people, whether they are family, friends orco-workers until you are in a time of crisis. Some step up to theplate in a big way and some frankly disappoint. I’m happy to sayexcept for a few isolated cases most of the folks that Jane and Ifigured would step up, did in a very big way. The people at workwere no exception.

Starting with Richard, who made it clear right from the startthat there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to help Jane and I getthrough this. He went out and bought a cot for the office just in

case I needed to rest during the day. He called frequently justto check in. Richard has been incredibly successful in his lifebecause he is not afraid to throw out a crazy idea or take a riskthat may reap a great reward. Now if he could only develop acure for colon cancer. I can hear the thoughts in his head at thisvery moment.

Scott, who is VP of Marketing, is about fifteen years younger

than I am. In many ways he plays the daddy role. Concerned andvery aware of what I’m going through, he constantly makes surethat I am not overwhelmed by the work load I carry. I alwaysassure him that I have never been overwhelmed in my life. If itwasn’t for the fact that I keep myself as busy as I can I would gocrazy.

Then there is the friendships that I have developed with the

folks in my group. Kathy plays the mommy role. Joe and Kentplay the role of brothers. My friend Mike, who I spend moretime with then my family, plays the role of Laurel to my Hardy,Moe to my Curly, or maybe Dean to my Jerry. We constantly goat each other with back and forth one-liners that always seem tobe able to keep folks off balance. I love that.



Everyone is always looking out for me. One day our officemanager Carole comes up to me to tell me that the insurancecompany is offering anyone in the company an extra one hundredthousand dollars in life insurance, no questions asked. Now I ask

you, how foolish is it to offer new, very inexpensive life insuranceto someone with cancer? Are you kidding? I’m not sure, butCarole made sure I got it. Some day Jane will get it. ThanksCarole.



Chapter Z – Pass the Zoloft Please

Back to the hospital. Who would think that at age 48 my attitudecould change so dramatically by taking one small drug. This is notan advertisement for Zoloft but I must say that it has helpedchange my life in more ways than one. Well I appeared to be thelast person on earth who thought it would help. About two daysafter my liver surgery, my doctors determined, by the questions Iwas asking, that I was very depressed. So the doctors appearedto be the first to think it would help. Not so. The next nightwith a room full of co-workers visiting, I announced that I was

now taking Zoloft. I think the applause in the room was a prettygood signal that I appeared to be the last to know that it wouldhelp.

Ok. So I might not be the easiest guy to be around. Did Imention I was funny, talented, handsome, the life of the party?How about bald, fat, old, tired and did I mention I have cancer.In fact I am a much easier guy to get along with since I started

Zoloft. I’m not exactly sure what effect it’s suppose to have butlet me tell you how it has affected me. It has taken away thevery lows and very highs that I use to experience. It has alsomade me much less reactionary. I tend to let things go a lotmore than I use to.

I have asked some of my friends and family to write chapters inthis book. I think you will get to understand me a little better

through eyes of others. I think that they will says some thingsabout me that may make me sound cranky, volatile, and a little offcenter. All of which is completely untrue. I will probably need toadd my rebuttal to their chapters. It’s nice that even though Iasked them to write I get to do that. It’s my book and I can giveand take away.



I seemingly use to live for confrontation. Now I avoid it as muchas possible. Life is too short, and in my case, who knows. I was

just about to tell you how as a sports performer or even a sportsfan I have always been overly competitive. Age has taught me tocontrol myself better than I did when I was younger. I was alsoabout to tell you how the New York Jets Football Team, who Ihave had season tickets to for the last twenty five years, mademe so crazy, I would throw things, mostly soft things, at thetelevision when they made Bozo plays.

I was about to tell you that Zoloft has evened me out a bit. Butlife is a real time thing. I have just watched Phil Michelson put ina putt on the final hole of the Masters to win his first major. I

just jumped out of my chair with delight. It’s nice to know I stillhave it.



Chapter Laura - Ira’s Favorite Sister

I am sure I would be Ira’s favorite sister if he had any others.But I am his only and G-d knows it has been an interestingadventure. When Ira first asked me to submit a chapter for hisbook I was touched. That was when he first asked me. A fewdays later, when I was talking to him about some of the things Iwanted to write, he pretty much told me maybe I’d better let himwrite the chapter for me. This pretty much summarizes ourbrotherly sisterly relationship. Ira has always been smarter andwittier then me. I, on the other hand am cuter, thinner and nicer!I told him the other day that nothing I ever do is good enoughand as soon as I said it I knew what he was going to say;

“No, you’re just not as good as me”! I guess that is what you getwhen you grow up together and are just a year a part in age. Oh,and yes, I am younger!

Well, I have done a pretty good job of darting around the mainissue, what is it like to have a brother going through cancer? Iknow I am supposed to keep this light and airy and on the upbeatside. So let me tell you that I thank God and the inventor of aparticular drug. I know you think I am going to mention somechemo drug but I am not. Thank you all for Zoloft. As much as I

love my brother at times he could be a major a—hole. He’llprobably even delete that last line before the book goes to press!

Notice I said could be a major a—hole. Ever since Zoloft he isactually a better person. Ira does have a heart of gold and when

you take away the ugly side of his personality, well he just



becomes a funny, compassionate, nice person. So if I haven’t saidthank God for Zoloft let me say it again, thank God for Zoloft!

Okay, I am not really all that funny. So let me tell you what it is

really like having a brother who has cancer. I hate every secondof it. Ira lives in New Jersey and I am here in Florida. What cana sister do? Well, you can be there whenever he wants or needsto talk and when he doesn’t, recognize it and get the hell off thephone. The one good thing for Ira is that everything has alwaysbeen about Ira. Things definitely have not changed. But thistime it is totally legitimate. Ira has every right to come first.What he is going through is not what anyone should have toendure. My sister-in-law (St. Jane) called me earlier to let meknow that Ira was not doing so hot today. All of a sudden he ishaving a severe acne-like rash on his face that is itchy andpainful. My job is to call him later. See if the Benedryl is makinghim more comfortable and maybe tell him something goofy aboutone of my kids.

I need to mention Saint Jane. When I went up for Ira and

Jane’s wedding, (many years ago) and I first met Jane’s parents,I teased them about letting their daughter marry my brother.She is the best thing that ever happened to him. She is the bestthing that happened to all of us especially during this wholenightmare. Jane has incredible hope and never lets us get downor stay down for too long. If she is not boosting my brother’sspirits, she is working on mine and my mother’s. Sometimes weget what I think is awful news and Jane puts a totally differentspin on it.Ira and I are alike in many ways. We both need to be surrounded

by friends. He likes to think that all our friends like him better!So even though Ira’s contact with my friends is only occasionaldue to our geographical distance he still believes that they all likehim better. Whatever, that’s not really important. What is



important is the incredible love and support we get from all of ourfriends and family. We couldn’t do this alone.



Chapter 45 – Adventures in Chemo-land

Most people would find the idea of going for chemotherapy once aweek a catastrophic event. And in fact it is a pretty horriblething. The idea of getting poison pumped into your systembecause it is supposed to help is a bit confusing. The fact that

you get an added benefit of feeling like crap is not fun. Butthere is something about the whole experience that is bothcomforting and relaxing.

I think for me it has to do with the fact that everyone is there

for the same reason. Either they have cancer or they are helpingpatients who do. Just to let you know how relaxed I can be, I amsitting here in Chemo-land, with a needle in my arm, writing thischapter. I know you probably didn’t need that information, butremember I have cancer.

In many ways I do love coming here. I love the people here and itappears the same seems true for them. If they don’t like me

they are better actors than most in Hollywood. And since I havehad the opportunity to work with a lot of actors in my life, Iwould hope I could tell the difference. I do think they lookforward to my visits. I am sort of the entertainment for Chemo-land. A four hour gig every Thursday is pretty steady work. Iget paid in all the chemo I can eat. Or all the chemo that medicalinsurance will allow. In my case I think it works out pretty well.

In some ways I feel like the mayor of Chemo-land. I walk aroundlike I own the place. A couple of weeks ago I got yelled atbecause I was sitting at one of the nurse’s desk. I was inviolation of the HIPA rules. I’m not sure what that is but it hassomething to do with privacy. I have been handed a piece ofpaper with the HIPA rules on them about two billion times. I, like



so many others, have never read a word. The amount of time,effort and money being spent on pieces of paper with privacyrules on them is mind boggling.

And here I am in Chemo Land and they are talking to me aboutprivacy rules. Meanwhile, the way most Chemo Land’s are set upis with a bunch of very comfortable recliners lined up next toeach other. Every conversation that happens in that place isaudible to everyone who hasn’t lost their hearing yet. I think weall pretty much know everything about everyone. I don’t think Iwas kicked out of the nurse’s chair for privacy reasons at all. I

think there was a control freak in the neighborhood. This iscertainly not Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.

Did I happen to mention being sick sucks? I don’t think so, but itwas about time I did. Seeing other people sick also sucks. Atfifty, I’m happy to say that I am always one of the youngestpeople in Chemo Land. Seeing someone who is very young, who hasnot gotten to live a full life as yet is heart wrenching. But at

least there have been very few, and that makes me happy. It’salso incredible how busy the place is. It is sometimes hard to geta chair. Can you believe standing room only at Chemo Land?That’s why I like the regular gig. Always a crowd to entertain.

I think the reason it keeps getting busier is because they arekeeping us all alive longer. That’s a good thing. New Drugs likethe one I just started two weeks ago are coming out all the time.

The new drug I started is Erbitux. I’ll tell you what’s interestingabout this drug. It is the one that got Martha Stewart in somuch trouble. Imclone, was going to receive word the day afterMartha’s stock sale, that Erbitux would not be gettinggovernment approval. One conviction, and one year later, Erbitux



has been approved and is currently running through my body. Ifeel like decorating…and “that’s a good thing.”



Chapter 46 – Thanks for coming…BUT

Warning: This chapter is not very funny. I think it provides moreinformation than most, but the humor was hard to come by.

Did I tell you that I love all the people in Chemo Land? Well thatwas true until the day I got a call to tell me that I would have tostart getting my treatments elsewhere. Let me tell you theoutcome now as not to keep you in suspense. On second thought,I am going to make you wait. I had to, so now, so do you.

So here is how it went. I get a call on Monday morning informingme that I will have to start getting treatments elsewhere. Thenew drug that I am on, Erbitux, is very expensive and insurance isnot covering it all. In fact, I am informed that the practice islosing two thousand dollars a week. Now I ask you, do I carewhether they make money or lose money? Once again I feel aneed to review. I have cancer, I am being treated by people Ihave come to know very well, they are part of my insurance

provider’s network, and I am very comfortable in Chemo Land.Attitude and comfort are very important factors in ongoingcancer treatment.

At this very moment none of that seemed to matter. Pleaseremember that this is a business. I get a call that my comfortand care is less important than the almighty dollar. The dollarthat they have been making quite a few pennies from over the

last eight years, I might add. I don’t remember getting the callthat said, “Hey, we made a lot of money off you last month,thanks.”

So you are sitting there thinking this is not right. Didn’t thesemen and woman get into this business to save lives? Oh please.



If it were only true. But until this call, at least I could makebelieve. I wish that was the least of it. So I guess you werethinking that the call came from my doctor. Nope. So then itobviously came from one of my nurses? Nope. I know, the officemanager? Nope. The billing supervisor? Nope. Maggie the billingclerk. That’s right, Maggie the billing clerk. My treatments forcancer would now have to be given at a new location. And yes,Maggie the billing clerk is the perfect person to let me know. It’sincredible the responsibility the billing clerk has at a cancercenter. I think she also gets to let the families know whenpatients have passed away in the middle of the night. Great work

Maggie. And all for twelve bucks an hour.It’s a good thing I took my Zoloft. If I hadn’t the roof of theirbuilding would have come down. I ask Maggie the billing clerk if Icould at least talk to the billing supervisor. The billing supervisorgets on the phone and reiterates how bad they all feel but losingmoney can not be tolerated. Of course, I should understand, if Iwas doing something and was losing money I would want it to

change. So to say the least, I am pissed.

I decide that I’m not going to take this lying down. Standing orsitting won’t help either. First call is to my insurance company.They assure me that the doctor’s office is part of the networkand therefore has agreed to pay the negotiated rates with theinsurance carrier. Next call is to my lawyer. Actually to mybrother-in-law Robert who is an attorney. I ask him whether

they can refuse to treat me because of losing money. He alsoassures me that they can not. They can decide not to work withthe insurance carrier once the contract is complete, but have toprovide the services in the meantime.



So I call back Maggie the billing clerk’s boss and inform her thatwe now have two options. I can come in on Thursday to have mytreatment or I can go elsewhere and have my attorney follow-up.I just want you all to know right now that I have never suedanyone in my life and never intended to. I think frivolous lawsuitsare for those who have no life. But this is too much. My healthand well being means a lot to me, and I’m going to make sure I getthe best care I can or make sure my family is compensated for it.I selfishly prefer to stick around, but in lieu of that, my familybeing rich is not a bad thing. And just maybe it will cost themedical practice more than they were going to save by sending me

elsewhere. And just maybe this won’t happen to the next guy whothey might lose a few bucks on.

Now the question is am I still going to get the kind of treatmentthat will best fight my disease or will I get the treatment thatwill best fight my disease at a cost to the medical practice that isno worse than breakeven? I would like to believe that I willcontinue to get the best possible care. And I think I will.

So you have been waiting patiently to get the answer to whathappened. First of all I got several calls apologizing for how theentire issue was handled. How Maggie the billing clerk ended upwith the responsibility is still a mystery. One theory is thateveryone knew that the conversation was not going to go well solet Micky, or in this case Maggie, take the initial blow. SorryMaggie. Another thought is that it was just poorly handled since

my doctor was headed for vacation. With all the money they arelosing it’s hard to imagine all the vacations he goes on. All I canthink of is the huge credit card debt he must have.

In any case, I went for treatment at Chemo Land on Thursday asoriginally planned. After giving it the thought that was initially



required, they can use one of my prescription plans to cover thecost of the drug. Go figure…A solution that didn’t requireupsetting the patient at all. And to think, poor Maggie had totake the blow for no reason. I think she should get some combatpay or at least a raise to thirteen dollars an hour.



Chapter F – The unmentioned side effect

WARNING: You are about to enter the potty zone. For thosewho are offended by bathroom humor, feel free to skip thischapter. All others…please enjoy.

Now we have all heard of the side effects that you can get fromchemotherapy. Nausea, diarrhea, mouth sores, loss of hair,fatigue, just to name a few. But there is one that nobody everseems to mention. One that has had a greater effect on thosearound you, than it actually has for the cancer patient. We’re

talking about the chemo induced fart, CIF. This is not just youreveryday run of the mill fart, we’re talking super powered fart.When they were looking for weapons of mass destruction, theyshould have stopped by my butt.

Being a major sports fan I often use phases that have to do withsports. In football, when the punter kicks the ball they measurethe hang time. The amount of time the ball is in the air, after it

leaves the kickers foot, until it lands in the hands of a player onthe other team. In the case of chemo induced farts, hang timehas a whole new meaning. By the way…chemo induced farts is nota technical term, just one that I find funny. And if you haven’tfigured it out by now, I do have a sort of sick sense of humor.

In any case, one day I borrowed my son’s car at about ten o’clockin the morning to pick up some bagels for the family. At about

two in the afternoon, Jake comes up to me to ask if I borrowedhis car. I thought that he had noticed that I had filled up his carwith gas. Well, that was sort of correct. He wasn’t talking aboutthe gas in the tank. Not bad…a hang time of four hours. Thatcertainly seems like a record of some sort. And I had even triedto air out the car on the way home.



Work is another story. We have a very nice working environmentat The Meow Mix Company. A very open environment. Seemedlike a good idea until CIF’s came into my life. Not much privacy inwhich to hide the momentary sins. I tried lighting matches for awhile. But the fumes from the matches were not much betterthan the other smell. Plus it was like putting up a flag that said,“Hey, I just farted.”

So one day I thought I would try something a little different.We have a very big atrium in the building. I figured I could

probably go out there and get away with it. Well not quite. Oneof my co-workers and friends came into the office after a tripthrough the atrium and knew I had been there. He mentionedthat two of the plants had died a very quick and somewhat painfuldeath.

While I’m on the subject, it seems only appropriate to get all ofthe gross stuff out of the way at the same time. One of the

most common side affects of chemotherapy is constant diarrhea.It comes on often and without a whole lot of advanced warning.The bathroom is 103 steps from my office. Basically a footballfield away. Let me tell you know right off the bat…I have 100%on time arrival, at least so far. But 103 steps is a long way to go.Our receptionist Angie, one of the nicest people you will evermeet, can hear me coming. She always makes sure that the way iscleared, so as not to slow me up. The timing needs to be flawless.

Just another game that I have played with myself that, I’m happyto say, I have won every time. Although I have gotten all of thescores, Angie is credited with quite a few assists. More sportsanalogies.



But this side affect is not all fun and games. It has a tendency todehydrate you and actually landed me in the hospital quite a fewtimes. In fact one time I was in the hospital eleven days to tryand get my system working flawlessly. Eleven days for diarrhea.Let me tell you how screwed up that is. While I was there, twodifferent men were my roommates. Both had parts of their lungsremoved. Each was there for only three days. It seemed kind ofsilly to tell them that I was in the hospital for eleven days withdiarrhea. Not just silly, down right embarrassing.

Believe me when I tell you that we tried every drug ever used to

get the problem under control. There was even one that I thinkwas prepared by a witch doctor and shipped in twice a day. Notsure what it was called but it didn’t work. My body just laughedat all the drugs. But eventually I was feeling strong enough to gohome and try to keep myself hydrated. At least the nurses areFranklin Four are the greatest.

But one last note to end this chapter. Can you imagine how bad it

must have smelled in my room? And my roommates had just hadpart of their lungs removed and were trying to breath. I thinkthey were holding their breath. When they went home, I’m notsure if they were better or just running for their lives.



Chapter D – Driving and Chemo Brain

There is a term called Chemo Brain. This is a real term, not likethe one I made up earlier…Chemo Induced Farts. This oneactually comes with a definition.

“Problems with memory, attention span, and concentration thatcrop up after chemotherapy begins.”

Most Chemo brain happens with woman going through

chemotherapy for breast cancer. The last time I looked I wasnot a woman and breast cancer was one of the only problems Idon’t have. But Chemo Brain I have. Some men do get it. Andsince I am so in touch with my feminine side, I figured that’s whyit decided to come my way.

One thing you should take away from a statement that CB causesproblems with attention span and concentration…you probably

shouldn’t drive a car at seventy miles an hour on the highway. Butat first I wasn’t that smart. Here are just two small examples ofhow I got smarter.

The first was after a day at the office, I was extremely tired,but had to make the one hour ride home. I made the trip andthought I had done a pretty good job. I was proud of myself. Allseemed right until the next morning. I couldn’t find my keys.

Although losing ones keys is usually reserved for Jane, I figuredwhat the heck. I looked every place they could be. Finally I saidto Ben, “Can you go outside and look around for my keys?” Ithought maybe I dropped them on the way in the night before.Ben came back into the house to inform me that I had left themin the garage. Mystery solved. Keys found. On with the day.



Not quite. The keys actually were in the garage, in the car, in theignition. And did I mention the car was still running? Holy shit. Ileft the car on all night. If it wasn’t for the fact that the garageis not attached to the house who knows what would havehappened. Twelve hours and about five gallons of gas later themystery was solved.

One more story. On another day about two weeks later, I wasgetting in my car to go to Chemo Land. I was late and needed toget going. I back my BMW convertible, the sports car, out of thegarage. We have a two hundred and fifty foot driveway, so I

always turn around to be able to drive out forward. This time Ihappen to back into my wife’s assistance car, which was parked ina place I’m not use to. Of course I dent the car. Remember, as Itell you the rest of this story, that this woman works for mywife.

Jane runs into the house and tells Brunhilde, not her real name,that I accidentally backed into her car. “We are very sorry but

not to worry we will take care of it. We can talk more when weget home, but we have to get over to chemo land” Jane says. “Noproblem” says Brunhilde.

You will know in about a minute why I have given her such an uglyname. Let me apologize now to all the Brunhilde’s out there. Notfor calling it an ugly name, but for your parents who gave it to

you. I’m just kidding of course. Later that evening Brunhilde

called the house and let Jane know that she had gotten anestimate for the damage. That was fine, but we asked her to geta second estimate at the Auto Body shop that we used all thetime. Jane likes to play bumper cars. I think she will be madwhen she reads that last line.



In any event, Brunhilde went crazy. Actually I think she was borncrazy, but she can write her own book…Delusions of a Nut Case.She refused to get another estimate. She threatened to call thepolice. I said, “Please do.” My next call was to the insurancecompany, because I was done talking to her. They assured methat they would handle everything which they did.

So that should be the end of the story. It was just thebeginning. The next week she had me served with three citizentraffic violations. One citation for reckless driving. One forleaving the scene of an accident. And one for failure to exchange

insurance information. Now let’s review. I’m on my own property,driving about two miles an hour, she has worked for my wife forsix years, and I have cancer. Do I need to explain further theterm…Nut Case?

Dick, my friend and lawyer, who I never heard utter a curse word,came out of the courtroom and said, “Asshole.” I ended uphaving, much to my dismay, to pay a $100.00 fine to make the

whole thing go away. If I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t believe thisstory could ever happen. Oh, I forgot to mention, Brunhilde nolonger works for my wife. I feel another law suit coming my way.

So that was pretty much the end of me driving around very much.I have since had the privilege of being driven to and from work.Most of the driving has been by my friend Mike, who I haveturned from millionaire to chauffeur. I guess millionaire

chauffeur would be more appropriate. When Mike can’t do it Ihave very many other options. Joe, who also has the pleasure ofsitting closest to me in the office, and is the main recipient ofCIF’s. Kent and John make up the other driving duties. All do itwith out a bit of hesitation and I love them all for it.



But the hardest thing for me has been the change ofresponsibility for the family driving. I used to do ninety percentof it. Jane now does the majority of it. I have a habit of backseat driving and I must say she handles my comments like I justhit her with a hammer. It is going better now, but the first fewmonths were brutal. I now understand why Nascar drivers havenever invited their spouses to drive with them.



Chapter Jane – The Master of Spin

The thing most people want to know, when they meet us as acouple, is how the hell did two such opposite people get together?We don’t know. Sometimes opposites do work; we’re going on 21

years of marriage. The fact that Ira is controlling and I’mbasically uncontrollable keeps things spicy and interesting …noboredom here! I think that the main reason we’ve made it thislong, from my side of it, is that nobody can make me laugh like myhusband. He is the funniest human being I know, by far. Youshould also know that beneath all the bluster and hard-ass

exterior beats a soft, mushy heart the size of Manhattan. He isgregarious, I am more introverted; he gets his strength frombeing with people, and I gather my strength in solitude. He isgenerally negative, and I am the eternal optimist. Here is wheremy part comes in.

I like to think of myself as the Cancer Spinmeister General; theQueen of Hope. I can take any bad news and spin it so fast that

you’d swear it was good news! Here’s an example:

IRA: “I just read on the internet that most people that have mytype of cancer don’t make it past 2 years.”JANE: “What percentage are you talking about?”IRA: “3 percent.”JANE: “Well, suppose 500,000 people have your same cancerright now. 3 % of that is what, 15,000 people? Put those 15,000

people on a football field. That’s a lot of people! Don’t you think you could be one of those people?????”(Jake Note: Odds of thisbeing accurate are slim to none, my mother can’t actually do math,she is an artist.)IRA: “oh.”



JANE: Besides, those statistics were compiled before the drug you’re on was approved.IRA: “oh.”JANE: “Turn off the friggin’ internet, and go to sleep.”

Whew! I’m good aren’t I? He likes to have me around. It’s not allabout having the answers, but having the QUICK answers. Shewho hesitates is lost…if there is a moment of silence between theworry being vocalized and my comeback, the worrier thinks I’m

just bullshitting him.

There is only one other person in our lives who is better at thisthan I am. He is the Spinmeister Extraordinaire, the Emperor ofGood Tidings, and Five Star General of Hope……He is Dr. ChuckFarber, our oncologist. I come to him with obscure questions, andhe has answers. Quick answers. You just can’t stump this guy…seen it, done it, been there. He doesn’t give up hope. He tells us,cancer is the war we’re fighting, and the ups and downs are justbattles. You win some battles, and you loose some battles. . It all

goes towards winning the war, (which means being able to treatthis as a chronic disease for the next 20 or more years.) Thelonger we can go, the more likely the silver bullet will bediscovered. We can walk into his office feeling bad about things,and always walk out feeling better. We feel we are both beingtaken care of in an extraordinary way, both body and soul by Dr.Farber and everyone else working at this office It makes us notfeel so alone in our struggle.

My husband is the absolute greatest person on the face of theearth. He makes my world spin in the right direction. Withouthim, I would be a shell of myself. STOP. He grabbed thecomputer away from me. Those last couple of lines were writtenby him, if you couldn’t tell.



Now that I have the computer back, I thought I would mentionthat the spinning I do is as much for me as it is for him. Keepinga positive attitude allows us all to focus on the future. A nicelong future. Ira often talks about the fact that his dad was notaround for many of major events of his life. He never met me, orthe kids. As I understand it, he would have been an incrediblegrandfather. Ira reminds everyone in the family of his dad. Thegood, the bad and the ugly. And of course he would like to bearound for the many family milestones to come.



Chapter 47 – Am I a Hypochondriac?

Once you have something as scary as cancer, it doesn’t take muchfor you to worry. Every ache and pain you have in your body, nomatter how small, could be something big. There have beenseveral times where I really did think there was somethingdramatically wrong with me. In fact, several of the times therewere problems, but not completely cancer related. I’ll give you afew such examples over the past few years that will give you anidea.

About six months or so after my initial cancer surgery I woke upwith some incredible pain in my back. I’ve always been a pain inthe neck, but this was definitely different. It was three o’clockin the morning and I was pretty sure Dr. Zitomer was hoping for acall from me. My wife got on the phone with him and started toexplain my symptoms. I’m of course thinking the worst. It tookhim about two seconds to inform Jane that I most likely had a

kidney stone. Something new just to spice up my life. I neededthat badly. Off to the hospital to find out that Dr. Zitomer wascorrect. Why the hell they hurt so bad is a mystery to me.

That time seems like only a mere setback compared to the storyI am about to tell you. WARNING…For those of you who arefaint of heart I must let you know that this story has blood in it.Not Passions of the Christ blood, but plenty of it. It started as a

nice evening. I went of to a friend’s house to celebrate thefiftieth birthdays of my friends Donna and Dick. It was a luau ofsorts, complete with a cooked pig. That was gross. I gotunusually tired very early in the evening. I think we got home atabout ten. I got home and immediately went to bed. I woke upabout three hours and what happened next was frightening.



Here comes the blood. I awoke because I was incrediblynauseous. I headed to the bathroom as quick as I could. I sortof made it. Now as a cancer patient undergoing chemotherapy,throwing up is just another day in the life. But this was not that.I vomited 100% pure New Jersey red. Blood was everywhere. Itruly believed I was experiencing the beginning of the end. Icalled for Jane. When she opened the door the look on her facesaid she was thinking the exact same thing as me. It was a veryugly scene. “Law and Order” never had an opening scene as uglyas this one.

We immediately went to the hospital to find that I had lost aboutthree pints of blood in a matter of ten seconds. We were scared.My blood pressure was down to about sixty over forty but no oneseemed too concerned. The donuts were going down just fine andI could wait a few minutes. Hey, I was still breathing. To make avery long story short, it turned out to be a bleeding ulcer. Mostlikely caused by the amount of chemo I had going into me, butlet’s just say there was not complete agreement with the cause.

In any case, it was not the end I’m happy to say.

Jane had decided in her blood stained mind that she should maketwo calls at two in the morning. One was to our friend Joann tolet her know what was going on. The other was to my friend Neilto let him know I probably wasn’t going to make it to our golf teetime that morning. I think that call could have waited. Imentioned somewhere in this book that I had friends that would

do anything for me. Joann went over to our house at four in themorning and cleaned up the crime scene. It was way beyond what

you could ever expect from anyone. She did it because she didn’twant the kids to wake up in the morning and accidentally see it.It was that scary. She also did it out of love, and we love her forit.



I must admit that there may be some hypochondriac moments.At least some folks seem to think so. One day I was looking at mychart while getting my chemo and ran across a note that Patrice,super nurse, had entered. It didn’t actually say hypochondriac,but see what you read into it. The note said, “Ira complained offeeling overly fatigued as of late…but had just played eighteenholes of golf.” Now was that necessary. I don’t think so. Did Imention I have cancer? Give cancer boy a break, why don’t you?



Chapter 48 – The comforts of home

Since undergoing constant chemotherapy, you begin to besomewhat self conscious about where you go and don’t go when

you are feeling pretty crappy. I must say that I do spend muchmore time at home relaxing. There are several friend’s houses Idon’t mind hanging out. I feel comfortable enough to be sickaround them and to be myself. And it gives Jane the opportunityto socialize.

Staying at home in my black recliner that Jake put up in mybedroom when I came home from the hospital is where I am mostcomfortable. It is what I have come to call my recuperationchair. I have had to share it with Dallas, our cat. Dallas hatedme for most of her life. But somehow she decided she loved meabout the time I came home from liver surgery. She now spendsa good amount of her time on my chest. She either sensed that Iwas not feeling well and could use a friend, or she just found a

warm comfortable spot to sleep. I’m going with the later sinceshe is a pretty selfish cat.

One place that we go no matter how I’m feeling is to BagelExpress. I go there for a variety of reasons. One is for thebagels. Another is for the friendly faces of Sarah, Alli and Katie.The other reason is because no matter how bad things are, or howbad I feel, Lenny and Charlie will make me feel like a champ. Not

because of their encouragement. That would be the logicalthought at this moment. But that’s not even close.

If you want to feel better about yourself, just go hang out andlisten to these two guys for a while and cancer will seem like ascratch on your face. You sit down with them and listen to them



talk about their collective medical problems and you feel betterabout yourself. Not to say that any of their ailments are muchmore that a bump in the road. I think the worst of all theailments has been some minor back surgery. Of course the backsurgery did not help a bit.

But from bad teeth since birth, to a stiff neck, to back aches forboth, the stories keep coming. All the while I am sitting therewith cancer. I leave there feeling like a million bucks.

There are a couple of other things that I need to feel perfectly

comfortable. I talked earlier in the book about chemo relatedsymptoms. One of them has you spend a lot of time in thebathroom. Although I always have had a need for the comfort ofmy own bathroom, I am much more conscious of it now. I preferto be at home. Of course I spend a lot of time at the office, so Ihave to call one of the stalls home. Comfort has taken on a wholenew meaning.



Chapter 50 – Just another day

It began as just another Thursday morning. It was once againchemo day and I would make my way over to Chemo Land. Nobiggie. Lots of drugs, chit chats with the nurses and otherpatients and maybe a nice little nap. I check in and am greetedwith the always up, Betty Ann, who has the perfect attitude to be

the official greeter. Many others have come and gone for avariety of reasons, but Betty Ann was always there with a smileand some nice words.

I take my seat in the waiting room, which never lasts for morethan a minute or two. The first step is always to the lab for afinger stick to check my blood levels before they administer thechemo. As I am walking in to give a little blood, Dr. Farber sees

me and asks me to meet him in his office. Dr. Farber never saysthat unless I have an official appointment with him. That’s not tosay we don’t talk often, but always in a much less formal way.This couldn’t be a good thing.

I should let you know at this point that I had Cat Scans done twodays earlier, and I was about to hear the results. I have had CatScan’s every three months for years and never got the, “let’s talk

in my office” treatment before. Jane, who is almost always withme, had dropped me off to do a few errands, so I was on my own.I need Jane for these moments because she always asks the rightquestions and helps put a positive spin on things.



I waited in Dr. Farber’s office for what seemed like twentyminutes. It was actually two. He came in and closed the door.Another sign of bad things to come. He asked for a minute tofinish reviewing the Cat Scan results a little more thoroughly. Isaid take your time. I was in no big hurry to hear the news.Finally the moment of truth, with plenty of spin to go around.The Cat Scan results looked good in my abdomen and my pelvis.That was pretty good news. No changes what so ever. BUT…hereit comes. The same could not be said for the Cat Scan of thelungs. Drum roll please. My son Ben, the percussionist, isproviding the musical arrangement to this announcement. Dr.

Farber says, “there are numerous small freckle size spots on mylungs.”

What started off to be just another day turned out quitedifferently. The cancer had spread to the lungs. “But do notworry, we have plenty of drugs to continue to treat this and weare all still optimistic that we can keep you around for a long timeto come.” More spin, but spin I needed to hear. Pass the Zoloft

please.

Wait a minute, my cell phone is ringing. It’s a call from theoffice…I have to take it. Take care.

The end or Just Another Beginning.



Epilogue

Let me leave you with one final thought. Through all the laughsand sadness I need to make sure you completely get my mainmessage. I am one of the luckiest people alive. We don’t knowfor how long, but I truly believe this.

I have a wife, my life long companion, who I have never lovedmore than I do right now.I have two children who I couldn’t be more proud of. They have

accomplished a lot in their short lives and I’m sure they will bothgo on to very big thingsI have a wonderful family that couldn’t be more supportive.I have friends who I love, and I know would do anything for me,as I would for them.I have an extended family at work and those who I used to workwith that give me strength.I have had a wonderful, full career.

I have gotten to do more great things than most people would doin three lifetimes.

Please be happy for me.

I hope this book conveyed some of those points to you. If youfeel a need to stay up with my progress, please feel free to writeme at [email protected].

Be well.

mailto:[email protected]

mailto:[email protected]



Top ten reasons Cancer can be your friend

10. When you bring cancer along people are always much nicerto you.

9.



We have all heard words like “life is a cycle” or “what goesaround, comes around.” I think when you have cancer the wholething takes on a whole new meaning. My life has become more like“Ground Hogs Day,” the movie starring Bill Murray. Today isWednesday, the one day a week a can usually count on to feelpretty good. I usually get two hours on Thursday to feel good aswell. It’s a treat. Let me explain.

Most people’s week starts on Monday. When you are goingthrough chemotherapy treatments, as I am, your week reallystarts on chemo day. In my case chemo day is Thursday. Why

Thursday? An excellent question. And you have been very goodup until now so I think you deserve an answer. And here it comes.

I go for treatment on Thursday because, believe or not, it is thesecond and third day after treatment that I feel the worst. Sothat means I feel the worst on the weekend. Why would I wantto feel the worst on the weekend? Another excellent question.For myself at least, but also for many cancer patients, I need to

stay busy and feel my day is full. That means I need o go to workon a regular basis. And I do. Almost everyday since this ordealbegan.

Some folks have asked me why? I love what I do and it keeps megoing. I think that if I stopped working at this point I wouldbegin to fade. When I stopped working, I want it to be on myterms. If my friend cancer gets to tell me when to stop working,

I know that will be a bad thing.

In any case, here’s the way the week goes. Thursday is chemoday. Five hours in the blue chair. My buddies Patrice, Pam, andthe others, take good care of me. Friday, not feeling very well, Ican will myself through a productive day at work. Saturday and



Sunday are days that really do a number on me. All the worst ofmy symptoms come out on these two days. I n fact, I thinkalmost every time I have had to go to the hospital have been onSunday mornings. Usually after a day of living in denial. Mondayends up being a day very much like Friday. I again muster upenough energy to get through the day at work. By Tuesday Ibegin to feel somewhat better. Wednesday is usually the goodday. Not quite as tired as I have been. That brings us back tothe beginning of my week, Thursday. The cycle begins again.Sounds like fun…right. Not really, but it is my life and I havelearned to live with it and make the most of it.

I always remind myself that the alternative is not a good option.Once again I remind myself that I want to hang around this worldas long as I can. I will have plenty of time to find out what, ifany, is on the other side. Interestingly, I am looking forward tosee some of the folks on the other said. I am kind of curious tofind out where they ended up, if you know happens what I mean.Most of them were living on the edge, so you never know.

I must admit that I am not sure what happens when you ventureover to the other side. I can tell you that I would love to thinkthat you get to see some folks from your life he took an early andsomewhat unexpected walk to the other side,

I will mention three, actually four, if I include my dog Dylan. Thefirst and obviously most important is my dad. He died twenty

four years ago yesterday and has affected my thinking on a dailybasis. I loved him very much, and I will tell you



Chapter Jake

This book was left the way it was, as my father wrote it, minus afew notes and edits here and there. I, also, was asked to write achapter, and much like my father being like his father, I am likemine. It is a line of the best, most over competitive, mostly funnypeople, at least that’s what we would tell you. So, when he askedme to write the chapter, I had something really funny to writeabout, or so I thought, and much like he told his sister, he said,“NO, you can’t do that.” I think he was just worried about meoutshining him, it probably had something to do with sports

anyway. Regardless, almost three years later now, I am writingthis, and I feel the best way to explain my father, and to end(though there never really is an “end” in my opinion) with theeulogy I wrote, because I think that’s how he would have wantedit, but maybe 30-40 years later.

Almost exactly 8 years ago I stood in this same spot on this same podium for my

bar mitzvah and soon after that I sat back down when I was done and I then watched my

father try not to cry as he spoke about me, he told me before that he was going to try not

to cry, and he practiced his speech so he wouldn’t embarrass me by crying, and I

responded by telling him he couldn’t embarrass me whether he cried or not. Now 8 years

later I’m standing here, trying not to cry, and failing just as much as he did. No matter

what he did, my father could never embarrass me, because as everyone knows I love

super heroes, and to me he was the greatest super hero ever. He was a walking legend to

me just because everything he did was so great, and so incredible. A few weeks ago

when football season was about to start someone randomly said to me that every season

before it starts my father would think it could be his last, though obviously that isn’t what



he wanted, and then 10 seasons later he saw his last Jets loss ever, which of course if you

watch the jets, you understand why of course they lost the last game he ever saw, I mean,

they are the Jets. But it took 10 years, and everyone knows how strong he was, everyone

always says he was a fighter.

Ever since we were little everyone wanted to be my dad, and though it was

probably because of the perks he was always the best, and he worked hard to be the best,

and treat us like we were the best, and we includes my friends. If you have known me

since you were little you have probably been brought somewhere awesome because of

my father, and that’s just because he wanted to make everyone happy, because that’s thekind of person he wanted to be. Strong, tough, and idolized…to me that is a super hero,

and that’s what my dad was. There are so many stories I could tell about him but I feel

like one or two wouldn’t even do him justice, he was funny all the time, how many other

people do you know at the age of 50 who had a stuffed alter ego named froggy? He was

the best dad that I could have ever asked for and I love him more than words can express,

and chances are if you knew him, you probably did too. Thanks.

(last jake note: The fact that froggy, a stuffed frog, was leftouf of this book is sad, he could have been on television, he now isin retirement though, but he, and my father, were quite the act.)

My Friend Cancer

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