the infinite...

Vintage Photo (Personal Collection). Caption: "This is Skagg's Point. Fine view of Palo Alto, San Jose and mountains which you can't see in the picture."

Vintage Photo (Personal Collection). Caption: "Charlie, Allen, Joyce and me. We look happy but weren't because it was cold."

Treatment: I’m still on the quest for 3rd and 4th opinions pertaining to my treatment. There are two doctors whose advice I’d like to seek: Dr. Warner in New York, and Dr. Woltering in New Orleans. I spoke with Warner’s office last week. After I progress a bit further with treatment, I’m going to send my records to Warner for review and consult. He has 40 years of experience with NET, so, he may have some observations not already expressed? I also spoke with Dr. Woltering today. I called him directly, and he actually picked up the phone!! For those of you who don’t deal with doctors on a regular basis, THIS IS RARE!!! It’s next to impossible to talk to a doctor outside of their office. Yet, Dr. Woltering has a cell phone and always answers it? I love it! From our conversation, his philosophy is that treatment needs to be aggressive (unlike the “wait and see” method...but not quite transplant). He had some great insights, and I’m going to follow-up with him as things move forward. I’m still happy with Northwestern and Benson, but just want more angles... more info... more more more! And, a trip back to the Big Easy to visit Woltering would be nice. He was also the only doctor to talk real numbers with me. I’ve read that my life expectancy with NET, under treatment, is 10-12 years on average. Of course, this is an average, not the rule. So, anything is possible and I’m not backing my bags. However, Woltering was willing to confirm these stats. He did note that with aggressive care, that number could potentially be increased. I know that there are no guarantees.... could be 5 or 50 for me. The fact that Woltering was candid about it earned my respect. We spoke at length, and on his dime. This is a doctor I want to meet!

Ruminations: "Lands that have made or witnessed history possess peculiar fascination; and when to their historical qualities are added those of the mysterious and the beautiful, their charm is boundless, for they touch the realm of the imagination, that is to say, the infinite." John L. Stoddard's Lectures, 1879

This is a favorite sentiment of mine posted on one of my other blogs. For those who don’t know Stoddard, he was a traveler and scholar, who published a series of books on countries and “peoples” around the world. By contemporary standards, Stoddard’s accounts are riddled with discrimination and obscene generalization. Nevertheless, I have a late 1890’s edition of his travel books that are a blast to thumb through. Much has changed in the world since the invention of that “new fangled” Aero Plane!

I pulled a few scrapbook pages from one of my collections for tonight’s entry. I love how simple the captions are. They’re elusive, yet revealing. These captions provide insight into what are seemingly uneventful photos. I think this is why I gravitate toward Stoddard’s quote. “For they touch the realm of the imagination, that is to say, the infinite...” And so, I think to myself, when does a brick expose history? Can a brick, an ostensibly obtuse building mass, ignite imagination? Can a landscape touch infinity? Maybe they can? However, I’d argue it’s not the brick or landscape, but that which we bring to it. This seems obvious to me, but I like it nonetheless... History, imagination, and witness are all intertwined. -They are the chocolate chips in the batter of infinity! (Ok, a stretch there, but hey, I tried.) And so, why should infinity be reserved for Saint’s and Vampires? We can experience infinity NOW; this is the essence of imagination, a much neglected sense. Yes, I’m calling it a sense because it deserves such a classification. Much like other senses, it works naturally of its own accord. I don’t think you can control it? At least, I can’t. Some see the faint hills of Palo Alto, but I see buried bones, wagon wheels, and a tree carved deep with initials. I can see one-hundred years from now, far beyond any prognosis they can throw at me.

PS: For those who sent me the NYT articles today, thanks! Keep sending me that stuff when you see it.