A research day...

... is usually full of surprises. Today was an official "research day" for my staff, which means I can go on the academic adventure of my choosing. So, I decided to cross-scrub a partial nephrectomy (tumor removal from a kidney) and then concentrate my afternoon on prostate and kidney cancer research. While some projects have been more than frustrating and difficult, others continue to bear fruit. Today, I was awarded an opportunity to speak about my research on a novel approach to prostate cancer surgery at the Society of Urologic Oncology in Washington DC (at the National Cancer Institute) this December. I'm excited, but nervous. It will be quite a test to see if my research holds up against the biggest names in the field. But, I get a practice run in Arizona next month; I'm speaking about my research on bladder neck preservation during prostate cancer surgery and, a third project, on anesthesia technique affect on prostate cancer recurrence and survival.

More importantly, my family continues to grow up. I can't believe how quickly this all happens - I know Mom and Dad, "you told me so". Noah is already a toddler (but he is my baby) and Evan is just an absolute joy of a little man. I guess I'm especially sensitive to the fact that life is short, as one my favorite songs it quick to point out...

No, I'm not colorblind
I know the world is black and white
Try to keep an open mind
But I just can't sleep on this tonight

Don't know how else to say it
I don't want to see my parents go
One generation's length away
From finding life out on my own

Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving, and
Honestly won't someone stop this train

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game
To find a way to say that life has just begun

Had a talk with my old man
Said, "Help me understand"
He said, "Turn 68, you'll renegotiate
Don't stop this train,
Don't for a minute change the place you're in,
And don't think I ever couldn't understand
I tried my hand, son, honestly we'll never stop this train."

Once in awhile, when it's good
It will feel like it should
And everyone is still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing until you cry when you're driving away in the dark
Singing, "Stop this train"

I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can
Cause now I see that I will never stop this train

That pretty much sums up my feelings about turning 30 in a couple months. Weird...

Marathon training: 3.5 mi today, 12.5 mi week, 25.5 mi total (almost a marathon!!!)

Kenya: 141 days (start praying)

Riding the bus...

...isn't as fun as advertised. Just ask Evan. As small children, we are all lured in by the idea of riding the school bus. The bus is almost as big a deal as going to school itself. Evan has been riding the bus to school from the first day of school, but Maryn would always pick him. He really wanted to ride the bus home, so we let him despite our warning about big kids and taking longer to get home. Well, he rode home last week only to discover that we were right: the bus is much more fun going to school than coming home. Turns out, none of his "friends" were on his bus, he was not 100% confident on where to dismount and it "took forever." This week, Evan is taking that ride home...this is the beginning of many "I told you so" moments in Evan's (Mr. Strongwill) childhood.

Also, Maryn went and locked herself out of the house while running yesterday. Don't ask...

Marathon training: 3.5 miles today, 5.5 mi yesterday, 9 mi this week, 22 mi total

Kenya: 141 days

A lazy, busy day...

...that's what I would call today. A few of the events: hitting a driver into a 40-mph headwind on a par-3 from 172 yards and putting it 4 feet for the birdie, Maryn put on a wedding shower with homemade treats, went on a 3-mile run with the boys, took a little nap and found time to read some urology and watch football. Nice way to spend a rare day off.

Marathon training: 3 mi today, 12.5 mi this week, 12.5 mi total

Kenya: 144 days

Running as a family...

...is an interesting task with a 5.5 and a 1.5. Today, Maryn and I headed out for a family-4-miler on the Douglas Trail. This was the first time we tried this, but I pushed Noah in the stroller and Evan rode his bike. Other than pushing Evan up the hills (thanks Maryn) it was a very enjoyable and fruitful time for the four of us. I was listening to Phil Wickam as we ran (thanks Christi) and I think it was a great gift from God to have a sunny, warm day (mid-40s) in Rochester on a half-day off.

"True Love" by Phil Wickam
The earth was shaking in the dark,
All creation felt the Father's broken heart.
Tears were filling Heaven's eyes,
The day that true love died.
When blood and water hit the ground,
Walls we couldn't move came crashing down.
And we were freed and made alive,
The day that true love died.
The Father gave His only son, just to save us.

Marathon Training: 4 miles today, 9.5 miles this week, 9.5 miles total training

Countdown to Kenya: 145

The front line...

...is a hard place to be in medicine. The diagnosis of cancer is difficult to understand but it is the one I currently discuss with patients everyday. For most patients, it is routine for me. I see their personal concerns, the change in family expressions, the in-fighting that begins almost immediately, and mostly, the fear. Most days and most patients, I brush this aside as routine, ordinary, and expected. Breaking it down into nuts and bolts, numbers, odds, risks, treatments options (if there are any) and possibilities, I see their challenge and lack of concentration and force them to move on. I see them reorienting their life's expect ions and I force them to see that this is normal - for me. While cancer suddenly defines their existence, it is a diagnosis with laid out treatment modalities to me. And so, I push their shock - and their reality and humanness - into the lobby, where the family can deal with it amongst themselves.

Once or twice a day, the compassion that brought me into this field surfaces and I relax. I stop worrying about the tasks ahead of me that day and I connect with my patients. Crazy stories of traveling salesman, the glory years, those deployments with the navy, and bragging about their children and grandchildren. Patients come to life and I empathizes with their struggle and future obstacles. I become their cheerleader. These moments are great. These patients get better care - not scientifically, but emotionally. I feel like I've made an impact, only to find myself an hour behind, squeezed for time and rushing through "the next cancer."

So it begins...

...yes, I'm entering the world of blogging. I've realized I have little of importance to say to most people, but still, some care about what I do and what I'm thinking. I'm really starting this with my family in mind. Hopefully they find this entertaining and an easy way to keep up with my life. So, hi everyone. Hi mom and dad. Love you all.

The first bit of news: I took a crazy pill last week. Despite my resistance and intellect, I've been tricked into training for a marathon in the spring. Yeah, we'll see how that goes. I have my 30 week training program laid out - following it will be the challenge. Wish me luck.