Twelfth Night

"The King Cake tradition came to New Orleans with the first French settlers and has stayed ever since. Like the rest of Mardi Gras during those early days, the king cake was a part of the family's celebration, and really didn't take on a public role until after the Civil War. In 1870, the Twelfth Night Revelers held their ball, with a large king cake as the main attraction. Instead of choosing a sacred king to be sacrificed, the TNR used the bean in the cake to choose the queen of the ball. This tradition has carried on to this day, although the TNR now use a wooden replica of a large king cake. The ladies of the court pull open little drawers in the cake's lower layer which contain the silver and gold beans. Silver means you're on the court; gold is for the queen.

"With the TNR making a big deal over the king cake in the society circles, others in the city started having king cake parties. These parties particularly among children, became very popular and have also continued to today. The focus of today's king cake party for kids has shifted more to the school classroom than the home, however. Up through the 1950s, neighborhoods would have parties. One family would start the ball rolling after Twelfth Night, and they'd continue on weekends through Carnival. Whoever got the baby (the coin or bean had changed to a ceramic or porcelain baby about an inch long by then) in the king cake was to hold the next party. You can still hear stories from folks who were kids during the Great Depression of what their mommas would do to them if they came home with the baby from a king cake party, since so many families were short on money then.

"[Today,] schools and offices are the main sites for king cake parties these days. Someone will pick up a cake at the bakery on the way downtown and leave it out for everyone to grab a piece, or mom will send one to school on a Friday for the kids to share. You an always tell the locals from the transfers in any given office because the local knows what to do when he or she gets the baby. The foreigner just drops it on the counter or some such, and possibly might not even bring the next cake. Sacrilege." 
 

Should you be interested in some of the best King Cakes in the New Orleans area you can order one from Gambino's . Maybe a ProtonPal from the area will bring one in for their graduation celebration. You can also pick those up in many stores in Houston including the bakery in Central Market delicious but not like Gambino's.
 

An Important Website for Men Diagnosed with Prostate Cancer

YANA's AIM

Kerry and Greg Morrison started this group when Gregg was diagnosed in 1991 and chose surgery. They were joined by others, primarily Terry and Anthea Herbert in 1996 who continue to provide the information site. Several of the MD Anderson Proton Therapy patients have joined this site and shared their stories. One of our young ProtonPal leaders from Houston has written his story and has helped so many others that he has aachieved the status of Mentor.

All treatment types are represented at the site and for example; Terrry was diagnosed in 1996 and chose what we now call active surveilance and enjoys continued good health.  You can read his story here.  Terry Herbert

When you visit the site you'll see that there are around 68 men who have listed proton therapy as their treatment choice on the YANA site. In that list almost all were diagnosed with stages T1c (non palpable), T2a(palpable one lobe), and T2b (palpable over 50%).  Clinical Staging

I'm featuring this site because it could be very useful to you. You can look for information and support no matter what type of treatment you have chosen. Anecdotes and stories are categorized by type of treatment an in the Proton treatment area, there area nnnnn members  When Terry Herbert set up the site many years ago he believed there was tremendous benefit in learning about other men's experience with prostate cancer. He recognized that it was helpful to find someone to talk to; someonoe who had dealt with the same issues and problems facing men with the disease. Like ProtonPals he collected stories and anecdotes from men who were willing to communicate and volunteered to act as Mentors. YANA used emails where we used both emails and telephone numbers.  You Are Not Alone - YANANOW.COM

One morning Susan's son, two year old Jacob, could not stand in his crib so she could pick him up. That was 4 years ago when he was diagnosed with Ewing's spinal sarcoma. Susan, Jacob and her husband Jim took up residence in Houston and had Jacob treated successfully with proton therapy at the MDAnderson Proton Center.

Not long after she got back to Virginia and settled back in her job as an executive with a large bank, she created a foundation to promote and support proton therapy for pediatric patients. Pediatric Proton Foundation.

I hope you don't but if should you encounter someone who's child is afflicted with a tumor, please refer them to Jacob's site. There you'll find Susan has paved the way for you, including links to foundation grants for some financial assistance.

Jacob with mother Susan at Hampton University Center

• Strategies for fighting the insurance companies
• Insurance appeals/letters
• Dialog with insurers
• Family Medical Leave Act
• HIPAA and your rights.  

Gene A. a close ProtonPal wrote this Odyssey a year ago and we published it in installments. Now we're publishing the last installment. It seems especially fitting now that the world has turned a few times and four seasons have passed. Since I started the lead in letter about seasons here's what happening in Houston - it's..."Yee Hah!" time - soon to be rodeo time in Houston. Read about it below. What Gene didn't record was that on the Friday leading up to the rodeo parade everyone dresses in western garb for GO TEXAN DAY, even the "suits" working for my old company in the center of the city wear boots on that day. Kind of like a casual Friday. Well many of the lawyers dress that way all year, boots and string ties! When Gene returns to Houston for his annual check up I'll ask him if he'll write Chapter 9 for us, Chapter 10 and many more.  Joe L.

The rodeo is in town. It's BIG! How big? Oh, I'd say about five tons of horse and livestock manure, maybe more. The rodeo is an annual event that begins weeks ahead with trail riders starting out for Houston from all directions in a range as far out as 200 miles, riding and camping along the roadway with chuck wagons in tradition of the Old West. The ride culminates with the customary parade through the center of town to mark the formal start of festivities. While this is going on other daily events kick-off at the Reliant Arena with private tent parties -- sponsored by Jack Daniels and other beer and booze makers -- , a cook-off, carnival, nightly concerts, livestock judging, cutting horse contests, and much, much more as shown on their website: Houston Rodeo  What it amounts to is a gigantic city-wide block party that goes on for two-and-half weeks.We're told it takes about that long for everyone to sober up.

Next week marks the end of my treatments with graduation on Friday. It also marks the end of this chapter of my personal narrative. When I first started writing, I had  little more in mind than an occasional update on my progression to family and friends. When I plucked the theme, "The Odyssey," from thin air, I thought it would
be nothing more than a metaphor for my effort to overcome prostate cancer, though, hopefully less perilous than the epic journey of its nemesis, Ulysses, in the Homeric Greek poem of the same name The Odyssey.  That this has turned into something more is the unintentional discovery of personal situations and friendly encounters that have enriched the value of my experience.

As many of you know, I had devoted a good many years with photography as a hobby, and have now turned that interest into collecting the work of others who are far more accomplished in turning the vernacular into fine art. What continues to intrigue me about photography, and art in general, is the ability of the artist to visualize and
render a subject in such a way that it takes on new intensity and relevancy. It is as if the artist has shown me a new way to see something that I had overlooked before. I am not an artist, but in similar vein writing has channeled me more intensely upon people, their stories, and other circumstances that might have otherwise passed without notice. It is in this manner that "The Odyssey" has probably become more significant and memorable to me than for you, and for that I hope you will forgive my overbearance.

A certain few of my dedicated readers have suggested that I expand my experience with prostate cancer as reported in my weekly mutterings into a book for publication. I respond that that road has already been paved by many others, and that it's unlikely that I could add substance beyond that which is already in the public view. If I were to reconsider, the opening line would go something like this:

'It was the best of times; it was the worst of times . . .' 

Yes, of course, it's from Dickens's "A Tale of Two Cities,"  But, dear reader, my story also is a tale of two cities, home and Houston, in which I the protagonist seek professional guidance from urologists and oncologists with different experience and opinion. Unlike the original tome, my story would be about revelation, not revolution, and the ending would be truly the best of times.

I realize now I have been unfairly critical of the opinion and direction I sought from doctors at home. I failed my own advice of being my own medical advocate by not recognizing the signs of advancing disease much earlier, and taking the initiative in researching my options before they became more limited. There are good doctors
everywhere, but some better than others by specialization and peer recognition. I have found mine in Houston. You may find yours elsewhere. I would hope you would benefit by my experience and seek out the very best.

Now, that I'm approaching the end of proton radiation in Houston, you may ask if I have any regrets. None as far as treatment is concerned. Absolutely no pain and very few side-effects other than the hot flashes from hormone therapy. My only regret is not having taken full advantage of all the amenities of Houston. Not having a car available was limiting. Cold weather the first few weeks following our arrival wasn't conducive to wandering. And, my encounter with Good Old Bob left me with a gimpy leg for awhile. Now that everything is falling into place, it's time to leave. I want to thank my family and friends for their good wishes and encouragement, and most particularly my Houston buddy, Joe Landry, who mentored me before and during my stay.

Is this the end of the story? Only time will tell . . .

Gene February/March 2010