Spunky Attacks!

A gentle breeze is blowing as sunlight filters through the bare winter limbs of an Oak tree that stands in my backyard. I am sitting in my favorite wicker rocker, reading and listening to music while enjoying the unusually warm February day. My cats, two large white alley cats named, Spunky and Icebox, are under the tree playing their favorite game of stalking birds as they perch on the birdbath. The day is going well, and I am thinking how nice it would be to have many days like today.

Without warning, Spunky leaps from behind a planter, where he has been hiding, and catches a Sparrow as it flies from the birdbath. My peaceful thoughts suddenly turn to thoughts of terror. Spunky is now wrestling with the screeching Sparrow, his brother Icebox, and I are watching the action. I am in horror knowing that a painful death awaits the Sparrow, and I am certain Icebox is already tasting leftover Sparrow. Spunky has the bird hanging upside down from his mouth while wings are flapping and other Sparrows are attacking in a desperate effort to free their captive friend. I want to make Spunky release the bird, yet I know this is mother nature in action.

My mind is racing for a quick answer to a serious situation which is about to turn tragic. Spunky carries the flapping bird to the patio and clamps it to the ground with both paws. Do I yell at Spunky and make him release the Sparrow, or do I let him carry out natures oldest and cruelest match. The Sparrow is desperately trying to get away as Spunky is clamping down even harder. Finally, the Sparrow is freed by attacking friends, as Spunky looks away for a brief moment. The bird is able to scamper to a fence post where it lands for a few seconds before flying away.

Spunky is now looking at me as if it is my fault that his catch is lost. Icebox is sniffing around the area where Spunky had the Sparrow clamped to the ground, and I am relieved that everyone came out of the struggle without injury. Spunky begins a desperate search for his lost bird, as I try to decide what to do if this happens again.

Wow, what a brief few seconds! Even in our domesticated world, mother nature is still carried out as it has been since the beginning. I just hope I do not come face-to-face with it again any time soon.

Disabled Do Not Get Proper Medical Care: A Year-Old Blog.

I wrote the following on another blog in 2006. I had received my PSA (Prostate Cancer Test) and it was elevated. The Urologist gave me samples of Flomax, and sent me on my way. He said, "nothing to worry about." Well, in late 2007 I was diagnosed with Prostate cancer. Could he have found it earlier? I think so. So, why didn't he find it, or do a biopsy? Read on...

Disabled Do Not Get Proper Medical Care. 11/06/2006

While doing my daily Google news search on "disability," and "wheelchair," I ran across an article that is very interesting. I can relate to the theme of the article which is: if you have a disability you are less likely to receive proper medical care for non disability related problems. In this case, the article is about women with disabilities that develop breast cancer.

The article: "Disability harms breast cancer survival chances," published in a UK newspaper, is interesting and tragic reading. It states, "Almost 3,000 of these women were disabled and were found to be have a 29 per cent higher risk of dying from their cancer." The article goes on to state, "Today's study claims that this group of women are 20 per cent less likely to be treated with breast-conserving surgery, one of two accepted therapeutic breast cancer treatments; the other being mastectomy."

I am in the middle of a small riff with my doctor over my recent Prostate problems. I believe, and according to the research I have done, that I have not received the proper medical tests to isolate the problem. Yet, I have an abled-bodied friend that recently had a similar problem, and upon his first visit to the doctor with a complaint, received a full battery of tests.
Today, I saw a Urologist and was less than pleased with the results. We had a brief discussion of the symptoms, and x-ray to rule out kidney stones, and then he gave me a bag filled with samples of "Flomax," and said come back in two months if I didn't feel better.

Can I say for certain that because of my disability I have not received proper medical care from two doctors? No, I can't say that with confidence, but am not pleased with the results. I am planning to see a completely independent doctor(doc-in-a-box) during the next few days to see if I receive the same results.

This article should get everyones attention in the disabled community, because I do believe we receive substandard medical care because of our disabilities. It makes the job of being in charge of your own medical care even more important.

I Didn't Need This.

I am living proof that a lifetime of severe disability does not insulate one from a different, and equally severe medical problem. I have had Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, since I was seven years old. I have been confined to a wheelchair, since I was ten years old. So, when I was recently diagnosed with Prostate cancer, I was shocked.

My Doctor called in early October with the news. "You have Prostate cancer," he said. "Come in for a visit in the next week or so. We need to discuss your options for treatment."

I was angry, sad, and in complete disbelief. I've paid my dues, I thought. This cannot happen to me. I have suffered enough in my lifetime; I could not finish my lunch.

After a few days of emotional swings, and a visit to my doctor, I knew it was time to start the task of exploring my options for killing the cancer. Options that included: surgery, radiation, radiation seed implants, hormone therapy, and believe it or not, not treating the cancer at all. The later called, 'Watchful waiting.'

I quickly concluded that cancer is not only a devastating disease, but it is equally a big business. Everyone involved competes for your medical dollars. The surgeon recommends surgery, the Radiation Oncologist recommends radiation, and my primary care physician stated, "all leading treatments are statistically equal." Ultimately, I would have assistance in making my decision.

After researching the options, I decided on surgery. The surgeon made a good case -- the cancer was probably confined to the prostate gland -- surgery would end it once and for all. I would be cured. However, because of severe arthritis in my cervical spine I requested the surgeon contact my neurosurgeon that has followed my neck problems. The neurosurgeon said that surgery would be risky and may cause problems in my neck. He said surgery could be done only if I was intubated nasally, while awake. An extremely unpleasant experience, and potentially risky procedure. Ultimately, I canceled the scheduled surgery hours before the procedure. The second best treatment option would be IMRT (Intensity Modulated Radiation Therapy) done at the local cancer center. IMRT it is...

IMRT is not without side effects: fatigue, damage to surrounding tissue, cramps, and other extremely unpleasant problems. Also, it requires forty-three daily treatments at the cancer center. Each day (Monday-Friday) for the past two months I have trekked to the cancer center for my IMRT treatments. I have eight treatments remaining, so I have made good progress, with moderate side effects.

However, back to my original thoughts: Why me? Don't I deserve a break? I didn't need this. I have always heard the saying, "Life is cruel, and then you die." Seeing so many young people during my visits to the cancer center each day makes me believe the saying is very true.

More to come on young people and cancer, my progress in fighting cancer, arthritis, and my life in general.