When Sick, Laugh

Tuesday I went skipping into the hospital for my last chemo treatment, but they wouldn't let me have it because my body was not healthy enough.  I was not worthy of the poison.  Before they even took my blood, the nurse said she could see that I was not well.  After 27 years of poison injection, she has a real sense of her victims' worthiness.

I never know if it's my red blood cells, my white blood cells, or my unique and glorious chartreuse blood cells, but one of them is out on the town and not doing their job this week.  The bottom line is that I am fatigued enough that I think I might try injecting Red Bull.  The breathing problems are also back, so I'm "quite the sight on the sofa tonight."

So I decided to make myself laugh.

I found an old file on my computer that contained a list of funny quotes I have heard over the past several years.  Here are a few . . . . 

My friend Nancy used to always say, "Some people say the glass is half full.  Some people say it is half empty.  I say, 'Are you gonna drink that?'"

When my nephew was young, my sister asked him the name of Jesus' father.  He said, "Verge."  "Verge?" she asked.  "Yeah, my teacher keeps talking about Verge 'n Mary."

In the same vain, when my cousin was small, she came into the kitchen crying that she had fallen and hurt her holy ghost.  Her mother asked where her holy ghost was.  In making the sign of the cross, she pointed to her head (The Father), her heart (The Son) and her shoulder, the Holy Ghost.

I was talking to my sister one time about how neat she is around her house.  She casually said, "Yeah, I'm so anal, it hurts."

Oscar Wilde once said, "Try everything once, except incest and folk dancing."

And here are a few of my favorite anonymous quotes:

"Veni, Vedi, Visa -- I came, I saw, I did a little shopping."

"I killed an ant in my kitchen last week.  Now none of my relatives will come visit."

"What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it's all about?"

"Time flies like an arrow.  Fruit flies like a banana."

Lessons

I am continually impressed with the new generation in our family.  One of my sisters has two sons that are incredibly focused, driven, involved, and already successful.  Another sister has three beautiful and talented daughters, and I have several cousins with children that always amaze me in their accomplishments.  We are a blessed family with a great work ethic and nothing but success.

One of those cousins' son was out here in LA visiting last week.  Ethan is 20 years old and spent his first year here at Pepperdine University.  He chose to return to Cleveland to Case Western to finish his undergraduate, which he will do in just three years.

I felt honored that he and his girlfriend wanted to have dinner with me.  And he swears that his mother did not insist on him calling his old sick cousin.  Stephanie was equally as impressive having left Loredo, TX to come to study at Pepperdine.  Already she has spent a semester in Argentina studying Spanish.

During dinner, they asked what advice I would give two 20 year olds with an entire future ahead of them.  Wow.  That's not a question you want to mess up.  My agents didn't prepare me it was coming.  There I was.  Frozen.  Advice?  It better be good.

And then I tapped into everything I have learned these past eight months of thinking and writing.  The answer came easily.

"I don't need to give you advice.  You have already done it," I told them.  Overcoming fear and taking risks is the best advice I can give anyone.   Only good can come from it.  Both of them left home at 18 and came out to California for school.  I'm not even sure that they recognize their courage.  It came from something they had been taught or had instinctively, but it sets the stage for a life of open opportunities and facing them with gusto.  And it prepares them to accept life's challenges, knowing they can adapt and move forward without fear.

Ethan emailed me and said that he and Stephanie talked after dinner and they "are overwhelmed at the excitement of the future."  I love that!  How many Americans live in fear of what might happen?  How many are overwhelmed at the excitement of the future?

Here is the amazing lesson for me . . . . It doesn't matter if you're 20 or 53, the same rules apply to our futures.  I don't have the same opportunities now that I had as I drove away from my fraternity house in 1978, but I have new ones.  A life of experience should give me a new cause to be "overwhelmed at the excitement of the future."  I think I learned more than Ethan and Stephanie.

My sister just reminded me of an expression that Dad used to always say.  "Getter done!"  And his other favorite quote . . . . "If ya ain't doin' too good, don't stay too long."

A Very Short Blog

Just in case Stu should read this, please know that I write this blog primarily for people like you.  If you want to talk, send your phone number to me at BillKavanagh@aol.com.  We live very close to each other.

What Makes You Happy?

My friend Reese and I have been discussing HAPPINESS a lot lately.  He has forwarded several articles to me and even written a couple of his own.  Plus I"m still plodding through the book, "The Art of Happiness."

I have discussed this subject several times before, but I am fascinated by it.  Almost all of the authors agree that happiness is internal and does not generate from external sources or material goods.  We all know that.  An article in yesterday's Wall Street Journal suggests that happiness can also come from our association with family.  The best news is that our minds have the ability to change, and if we're not happy, we can learn to be.  So why don't they offer college courses in Happiness 101?

Funny you ask that question . . . . 

According to an article by Richard Nantel of Brandon Hall Research, it is currently the number one most popular undergraduate course at Harvard, and is offered at more than 100 respected universities.  It is referred to as Positive Psychology.  Whereas in the past psychology has usually focused on mental illness, these courses research human happiness.  That makes me happy.  Imagine.  Positive focus.

As I said in a blog on July 22, the Dali Lama says that some of the foundations for happiness are calmness of mind, compassion and loving kindness, and an openness to all human beings.  Of course we go through all emotions, but there is a certain level of happiness that each of us maintains, if we choose.

Reese suggests in his writing that a happy life comes from ten things . . . . Share, Appreciate, Forgive, Commit, Learn, Wander, Wonder, Dance, Laugh, and Submit.

I'm very curious what makes you happy.  Your kids?  Your job? A hobby?  A sale at Dolce&Gabbana?  (It's OK, you can admit it.)

There is a difference between happiness and pleasure.  Certain things like massages or ice cream can bring us pleasure, but don't ultimately make us happy.  I'd like to know both; your pleasures and your happiness.

I am very serious about asking for your input.  What makes people happy, especially people I know, is important to me.

Molly

Since the theme this week seems to be "giving and helping" (as well as the Olympics), I want to share one of my favorite stories.  There are few other experiences I've had in my life that have affected me so profoundly.

In 2001, just after the world trade center tragedy and just before the winter Olympics, I was alternating between ceremonies on the road with the Torch Relay and being back at my desk in Salt Lake City.  I was in New York for Christmas because on December 26th, Ann Curry was running the torch out of Rockefeller Center on The Today Show.  From there, I followed it up to Rhode Island before heading back to Utah.

When we drove into Providence, an elderly woman with a strong Irish brogue came to greet us at the car.  Her name was Molly.  As we were talking, I asked Molly why she took the time to volunteer in such extremely cold weather.  She explained that her grandson Zachary loved the Olympics more than anything.  He wanted so badly to be there, but he was in the hospital with leukemia.  She wanted to be able to tell him that she saw the torch.

I told her we could do a lot better than that.  We could take a photo of her on stage holding the torch.  Molly was beside herself and she insisted that we sit and eat some soup while she ran to the drugstore to buy a camera.

After the photos, Molly was constantly asking how she could help us.  Her energy was endless.  At the end of the evening, I gave her a small Olympic pin to give to Zachary.

In the next month, I received a couple of cards from Molly, always filled with love and support.  One of them included the photo above.  And then on the day of Opening Ceremonies, I was in my office for a very brief few minutes and I got a call from her.  Zach had died that morning.  He was holding the pin, and he said, "I'm going to the Olympics."

Molly asked two things of me.

First, she asked that we all pray for Zach and think of his soul rising to heaven as the giant stadium cauldron was lit.  And the second request was amazing . . . . 

"Always remember," she said, "that it's not about the millions of people that will be watching the ceremonies tonight.  It's about one little boy that you made happy.  We don't have to change the world.  We only need to help one person at a time."

As if the ceremonies weren't powerful enough for me, my heart exploded that night.  I have never forgotten Molly or her lesson.  And I often pray to a little boy that I never met.

I don't tell this story for praise to anything that I did.  I simply gave away a small pin.  But it had such a profound affect.  Since then, when I produce an event, I am very conscious of each individual.  If it's the CEO or the security guard, every person has a job and a purpose.  It is my duty to help and support all of them.  I do it for Molly and for Zachary.

We never know when we might touch someone.  It could be a simple smile or kind gesture.  But it could change a life.

Does the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?

Carin' Karen

From mild mannered mom, 

to cancer fighting superhero, my friend Karen was a joy to be with last week when she escorted me to my chemo treatment.  She left her house in Palm Springs at 5:00 am and spent the day with me at the hospital.  I nicknamed her "Carin' Karen, the Chemo Heroin."

Karen and I worked together at Disney, just briefly, but she is another example of the incredible people who step forward and offer to help.  If anyone doubts that there is truly a great energy in the human spirit that exists all around us . . . go get sick.  

At the end of the day, Karen wrote some beautiful thoughts in my journal that I will be able to look back and read for years to come, along with all the other entries, reminding me that 2008 is a year to remember.

What Brings You Here?

It's 1:30 am.  I had chemo yesterday and it usually makes me wake up in the middle of the night. But this time it is thunder and lightning.  I don't think I have ever seen lightning in LA, and yet I have been counting it every 30 seconds for the past 45 minutes.  Evidently it doesn't work like sheep because I'm still awake.

There's not much chance it will bring rain.  That would be way too bizarre for Southern California in August.  It looks more like what we called "heat lightning" when we were kids.

Exactly as I typed that, the sprinklers in the yard came on, as if they sensed what was missing.

I'm fairly sure that the majority of my readers don't sign on for a weather update.  Why do you sign on?  I doubt that it is for more information about my grandmother.  If it's for an update on my health, I appreciate that so much.  My oncologist told me yesterday that my PET Scan was clear and we will schedule a bone marrow biopsy this week to determine if indeed this next chemo treatment is my last.

If I sound nonchalant  about that, it's because that is how the oncologist presents it to me. After chatting with him for 15 minutes about the Olympics, and figuring he was delaying bad news, I finally asked about the scans and he said, "Yeah, they look good."  So I ask, "Does that mean the cancer is gone if the bone marrow test is clear?"  He says, "Well we'll see." And then immediately transitions into, "You know Michael Phelps has a ligament disease, which makes him amphibian-like." 

If you sign on to my blog for humor, I want you to go to my favorite funny video.  www.YouTube.com, and type in "MadTV, Wizard of Oz alternate ending."  No matter how many times I watch it, I still laugh out loud.

If you sign on for comforting words of wisdom, I'm working on that.  Remember, it's the middle of the night right now.  My next blog will be brilliant!

The lightning, the thunder, and the sprinklers have all stopped.  It is very peaceful now.  I think I might take a walk up to Sunset Blvd. just because I've never done that at 2:00 am.  I might be very popular if I'm glowing in the dark from the chemo.