Boo Hoo

I really hate to dwell much more on the problems of our healthcare system, and I promise after this, I will move on.  We all know the seriousness of the insidiousness.  However, it's a big part of my life right now, and I have a couple of observations.

On a positive side, I applaud companies like Kaiser Permanente, or at least their marketing department, for promoting a fun, pro-active health image through their campaign "Thrive."  I have friends that work there and others who are insured with them, and they all seem very happy.

I've been consulting with a friend on a couple of events for another healthcare company who also is beginning an internal colorful "Pro-Fit = Profit" campaign.  Some companies (hopefully) are getting it.

I compare this to a "what-if" theory that the IRS would actually consult taxpayers upfront rather than to attack and kill after the fact.  Imagine the government taking a pro-active approach.

Sadly, most health insurance companies are now taking a governmental attitude towards their customers.  Even the term "customer" is not appropriate.  We are their circus animals, performing as they instruct.  A customer at Macy's, or even with other types of insurance, can easily take his/her business elsewhere.  Not with health insurance.  For me, I am stuck in the three-ring agony of their discipline.

I lay in bed and dream of a person at Health Net who would say to me on the telephone, "I know this is a difficult time for you.  How can I help you?  I see that your doctor has ordered a CT Scan. Let me see what I can do to get that approved."

Instead, this is reality.

"Why do you need a CT Scan?!"  (As if I'm asking for tickets to Disneyland.)

"Oh I don't know.  I need artwork in my living room, and I thought a transparent black and white image of my cloudy lungs might be just the thing to perk up the feng shui."

As much as I make light of the situation, it really has been a serious problem.  Knowing I had no time to argue because I needed to keep my chemotherapy on schedule, they switched me to an HMO and reassigned a new, cheaper oncologist.  They told me that somewhere in the fine print of my policy it says, "PPO, except for cancer."

At any rate, I'm blessed that I have coverage.  Many don't.  It's a broken system that will require minds much greater than mine to repair it (and other minds to approve it).  I trust that someday someone will hear, "How is it that I can help you?"

I'm folding up my soapbox and enthusiastically compiling a list of the best lunch suggestions I received.  A much happier subject to think about.

Billy Be Breathing

I'm sitting here connected to an oxygen tank.  A very large one.  It was a compromise with my doctor . . . a tube in your nose at home, or go back in the hospital.  I emailed a group of friends that all I need now is a rocking chair, a net for my hair, and some knitting needles.  One of them, mustering as little empathy as possible, simply responded, "What hair?"

If there is an opposite to the book I'm reading, "The Art Of Happiness," it would be a book about health insurance companies, "The Art of Discomfort and Bowel-Irritating Insidiousness."  As much as I try to avoid reading it, it's a perfect example of the negative that comes into our lives every day that we must confront.

My insurance company made it as difficult as possible for me to get the oxygen.  I suppose it's their job to try to save money, but they fail to see the alternative of me being back in the hospital.

So it was a long day yesterday, calling three doctor's offices a number of times, two different divisions of my insurance company, and three oxygen supply companies.  (The insurance kept changing suppliers, requiring me to get the approvals and records to all of them.)  The absolute irony is that the total cost was only $120.

Later in the day, a friend sent me a new website he just designed honoring another friend of ours who died.  It suddenly put life back in perspective of what is really important.  Not that getting oxygen to my heart and brain are not important, but injecting love and tears into my heart felt so much better.  One would think I could have both oxygen and love, but when I cry, my nose runs and it blocks the oxygen tube.

And for anyone who cares, I'm getting Homo2 Oxygen and my liter flow is 2.

Happiness

I am so excited that my blog about our favorite lunches brought so much response.  I'm going to compile some of the best ideas for yummy lunches and report back soon.  It's interesting that as I sit down to write about what brings true happiness, I realize that something as simple as a comforting lunch from our childhood is a great example.  Or is it just a pleasure?

I read one time that one of the keys to happiness is always having something to look forward to. Turns out, there are many keys, much deeper, according to this book that I have mentioned.

Several people have been telling me that I am such an inspiration because I am always looking for the positive side of life.  I would be lying if I didn't admit it is flattering, however it only seems natural to me.  Why would anyone want to dwell, much less investigate, the negative?  I honestly don't feel that I deserve much credit just because I want to be happy.

One step towards that is my ability to choose the people I associate with, the TV and movies I watch, and plain and simply, what I think about.  Certainly I can't ignore problems of the world or of my friends, but I can choose to focus on helping and being a good listener whenever possible.

So the book is "The Art Of Happiness" by Howard Cutler and His Holiness The Dalai Lama.  It is not a review of religion at all, but rather thoughts on what brings happiness.  Each page is filled with so much inspiration that I have to go back several times and reread them.  It has taken me quite awhile just to get through 50 pages.

Here are a few of my favorite highlights . . . .

The purpose of our existence is to seek happiness.  It is not self-centered or self-indulgent. Happy people are generally more sociable, flexible and creative.  And most important, they are found to be more loving and forgiving.  They have a quality of openness, and willingness to reach out to others.

Happiness is determined more by one's state of mind than by external events.  Success can bring temporary elation, or tragedy can cause depression, but eventually happiness migrates back to a certain baseline.  Lottery winners, on one extreme, and those struck by a major illness, on the other extreme, both were found to return to their usual range of moment-to-moment happiness.

Our feelings of contentment are strongly influenced by our tendency to compare.  Who is smarter, more beautiful, or more successful?  Once our basic needs are met, " . . . we don't need more money, we don't need greater success or fame, we don't need the perfect body or even the perfect mate -- right now, at this very moment, we have a mind, which is all the basic equipment we need to achieve complete happiness."

"The greater the level of calmness of our mind, the greater our peace of mind, the greater our ability to enjoy a happy and joyful life."

Many people confuse happiness with pleasure, such as the touch of a loved one, sex, a hot bath, a beautiful sunset . . . . or other extremes of cocaine, heroin, alcohol, or a winning streak in Las Vegas.

And lastly, and this is my favorite,

"If you maintain a feeling of compassion, loving kindness, then something automatically opens your inner door.  Through that, you can communicate much more easily with other people.  And that feeling of warmth creates a kind of openness.  You'll find that all human beings are just like you, so you'll be able to relate to them more easily."

Lunches

What is your favorite lunch?  Be honest.  I won't tell anyone if it's decadent.  But I would love to get your emails.  I know many of us still crave the simple lunches we had as children . . . peanut butter and jelly, or mac and cheese.  Maybe with a new twist.

There were so many wild combinations of sandwiches that I loved as a kid, and all involved peanut butter.  Tomato, peanut butter and mayo.  Or peanut butter, bananas and raisins.  Peanut butter and bologna!  

But now my favorite lunch, and I never seem to grow tired of it, is my own special concoction of chicken salad.  I pull apart the chicken, add grapes, apples, raisins or dried cranberries, dijon mustard and mayo.  It's great on bread, crackers, or all alone.

So now I need new suggestions.  Quick and easy.  Tasty.  And fattening doesn't hurt.

Rarely do I let myself indulge in burgers and fries, but when I do, I savor every morsel.  My favorite is the Jack in the Box ultimate cheeseburger, however last week I had McDonald's angus, bacon, chipotle, cheese burger.  (It was that, or eat a pound of lard.)  It tasted amazing.

While living in Salt Lake City, I became addicted to Utah Fry Sauce, a creamy blend of ketchup, mayo, and worcestershire sauce, so I always hurry home and whip up a bit for my fries.

I'll report back soon with the findings of my survey so others can share in the "lunches that make us go 'YUM!'"

Keeping it Fun

I spent most of yesterday in the garden.  Interspersed with sessions of going inside to regain my breathing, I managed to enjoy planting new roses and border flowers.  Today my arms look like I was attacked by a mountain lion, due to the thorns, but it's all worth it.  I have always noted that for some reason, when my garden is doing well, my life is doing well.  That's a sure sign that I need to keep the weeds out and the color in.

With that same attitude in mind, I want to go back to Scott Hamilton.  I love reading about other cancer patients and survivors who have a similar approach to happiness.  You will remember Scott as the 1984 Olympic gold medalist in figure skating.  Soon after that, he was the brainchild of "Stars on Ice."  He now lives in Nashville with his wife and two sons.

I quoted Scott earlier with his humorous remark after fighting testicular cancer,

"With what I've endured, if I can be happy, anyone can. I'm a short, bald, half-neutered, chemo-d, radiated, male figure skater.  What choice do I have but to be optimistic?"

His approach to life is so inspiring to me, " . . . stay positive, keep it fun and friendly, and have the quality of life that you deserve.  I learned that you can choose how you feel on a particular day, and if you just turn something slightly -- like you might turn a piece of glass and get a rainbow -- you change your perspective."

As a young child, Scott developed a mysterious illness that caused him to stop growing, but he continued to take skating lessons and play hockey.  At age 17, financial pressures forced him to quit competitive skating until an anonymous couple sponsored him for the 1980 Olympics.

He has had his share of difficulties, but he says, "If life was fair, it wouldn't be interesting . . . Challenge me, tell me something is horrible, and I'll find good in it.  Tell me something is going to defeat me and I'll find a way to beat it."  He believes we all have three choices: "succumb, adapt, or evolve."  We can give up, just deal with it, or take it and become better for it.  "I'm going to be a much richer, better, more in-touch person than I've ever dreamed because of this."

Ever dreamed.  I love that.

Scott established The Scott Cares Initiative with the Cleveland Clinic, where he was treated for his cancer in 1997, and together they have raised over $10 million for cancer research.  What a guy.  What an inspiration.  To Scott I toast my chemo cocktail.

He's Back!

I am excited to share pieces of a new book I am reading titled "The Art of Happiness."  My roommate slipped it into my "essentials" bag of underwear and pills that some friends delivered to me at the hospital.  It was the perfect reading to keep me sane while hooked up to oxygen, a heart monitor, and and two IVs.

However, it would be superfluous to not first talk about my health.  This is my chance to update so many friends and family.  And before I even do that, I have to tell a great story. . . . 

It was Monday, June 30th, that Rob, my roommate took me at 11:00 pm to the emergency room.  I was evidently much worse than I thought.  They told me it would be a three-hour wait and then once they triaged me, they yelled for an emergency wheelchair and told me I was not allowed to take a single step.  My vital signs were all through the roof.  (I love drama, particularly when it's all about me!)

They finally called Rob in the waiting room and he joined me in the ER, God love him, until 2:30 am.  During that time, he asked me if I had eaten any of the cheesecake in the refrigerator.  I had a piece at lunch, I told him.  "Did it upset your stomach?  I had a piece tonight and my stomach hurts."  I told him everything hurt, so I wasn't sure about my stomach.

The last thing Rob said as he was leaving was, "I'm going home and throwing away that cheesecake."  He got home, but was not there long.  He came back to the ER, and within a few hours had an emergency appendectomy.  We ended up just a couple of floors away, texting each other through the night.  Just when I get a little a drama, he has to outdo me!

After a couple of days in ICU and a broncoscopy, they discovered pneumonia and put me in a regular room for the rest of the week.  My chemo treatment for last week was postponed until tomorrow, and they will test me to see if I am strong enough.  I still am having difficulty breathing.

So that's the update.  I don't like talking about the bad stuff.  It is what it is.  But I hear from too many friends to "Keep it real."  So there.  Thank you everyone for so many wonderful emails and phone calls. Any pain at all is completely overshadowed by love.

A Week Away

The blog has been empty for a week because I have been in the hospital.  I will be back soon, but for a few days, I need to recover.

One quick and beautiful story from the seven days in Cedars-Sinai.  On the 4th of July, I was journaling that it would not be a very celebratory holiday.  Just a few minutes later, two good friends showed up, dressed in red, white, and blue, carrying cupcakes and singing.  After visiting for a few minutes, we heard music in the hallway.

A beautiful elderly lady was playing the harp.  I was whispering to my friends and the nurse that when I was a small boy, my Godmother would play old Irish songs on the harp for me.  Just then, the woman pointed to me and asked if I had any requests.  I asked her just to play one of her favorites.

Right then, in this very Jewish hospital, she started playing "Oh Danny Boy," probably my family's favorite.  There could not have been a more perfect song.  And to make it even more incredible, one of my friends is a professional singer and he began to sing.  Thank God I had the IV pole to hold me up!

I hope everyone had a great holiday and I will be back very soon.