Farewell to Alex

"I'll take 'My Heart is Broken' for $2,000, Alex."

Except that I can't ask Alex.  I can't, because Alex is gone.  It seemed so quick.  Wasn't I just watching season 37 of Jeopardy with Alex still hosting the show?  That's because he didn't want to stop.  He didn't walk away.  He was still taping shows until about 10 days before he passed away on Sunday.

Jeopardy, a game show whose most recent incarnation has been on the air for 36 years,  has become an institution here in the United States.   For all this time, its host was Alex Trebek.  We saw him age from a young, fast speaking man, to a sage 80 year old with grey hair and great wit.  

For example, in a July interview, he said he'd want his successor to be Betty White.

 

We bonded with the contestants, especially this one.

When Alex's pancreatic cancer diagnosis was announced in March of 2019, and several months later into 2019, I blogged these words:

Jeopardy has become an institution.  When I heard the news, I went right to Facebook - as it happens, I went to high school and college with a future Jeopardy champion, and she had already posted. (On the day Alex died, she posted the picture taken with him when she won.)

Pancreatic cancer is personal for me  It killed an aunt, an uncle and a great aunt (both sides of my family have been touched).  Someone I walked with at lunch for years lost her brother in law to it.  A former boss lost her sister to it.  And on and on.

In the past several months, pancreatic cancer has taken the mother of someone I know, and someone I knew of as a great advocate for eldercare issues in our community.  I got to meet her less than a year before her death. 

Alex Trebek gives much of the credit for his cancer shrinking to the millions of people who have been praying and thinking of him.  But prayer is not enough.  We must help ourselves.

Pancreatic cancer, and other "rare" cancers needs to be "brought up to speed".  This cancer needs to have some type of early detection, the way breast cancer and cervical cancer have.  It needs  publicity.  It needs marathons.  All cancers need funding.  It is true that pancreatic cancer is only about 3% of cancer diagnoses in our country.  But isn't it strange that, for its 3% rate, so many of us seem to know someone who has had it.

Yes, having had three relatives die from this cancer (my late aunt was the youngest), makes it personal.  While the survival rates for some cancers have (thankfully) increased, the rates for pancreatic cancer have not.

I do wish recovery for all patients with this dread cancer, whether or not they have extensive support systems. 

I was cautiously optimistic about Alex Trebek, but was also realistic.  It was the speed that took us by surprise.  Quoting again from previous blog posts with an updated last paragraph:

The sad but true fact is that it is the loss of celebrities (or the famous) that call people to action.  Although, as this article points out, there aren't too many "famous" spokepeople for this illness-they don't survive long enough.

If a cause isn't (excuse the expression) "sexy", it doesn't get the money.

Pancreatic cancer certainly doesn't get money for research the way some other cancers do.  Not to take away the importance of any cancer, but I believe funding must become more even between types of cancer.

That would be such a wonderful way to honor our beloved Alex Trebek.  My thoughts are with his family, as are the thoughts of millions of Americans. 

For World Pancreatic Cancer Day, November 21, 2019, Alex made this PSA.

Today, I also honor my mother, who passed 55 years ago today.

I have to believe that when Alex passed through the Pearly Gates, the Jeopardy theme played, and he was met by Larry Martin (Jeopardy champion who died from pancreatic cancer), Art Fleming (first Jeopardy host, who also died from pancreatic cancer) and Cindy Stowell (Jeopardy champion who was terminally ill from colon cancer at the time she became a six game champion and died before her shows could be broadcast.)

May Alex, my Mom, and also all those who have passed away since the beginning of 2020 forever rest in peace. 

Musicians of November and An RiP #MusicMovesMe

Guess what?  It's Monday and time for music!

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join!  First, there is XmasDolly,   Her co-conductors are:  Cathy from Curious as a Cathy, Stacy of Stacy Uncorked   and, finally, me.  

One more note:  This is a music blog only - please post at least one You Tube or Vimeo video so we can dance with you.  No music, no dance!   

Each month we have a guest conductor. This great month of November our guest conductor is Songbird from Songbird's Crazy World.  

Songbird's theme for today is: "In honor of my daughter, whose birthday is in November, make a playlist from singers/musicians who were born in November."

Here are some November musicians for you.  

Let's get started with Petula Clark, born November 15, 1932 (so, later this week, she turns 88.  Happy 88th, Petula!)  In this 12 odd minute video, you'll find something you like, including, perhaps a song written for Petula by Charlie Chaplin back in 1966. (Yes, I briefly discussed Charlie Chaplin as a music writer the other week.)

Jimi Hendrix, born November 27, 1942, is perhaps most famous for his cover of The Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock in 1969.

Jay Black of Jay and the Americans, born November 2, 1938 singing their 1963 hit, Only in America.

Art Garfunkel of Simon and Garfunkel, born November 5, 1941.  This is a live performance of "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" from 2019, noting the first minute or so is Art talking and the song is missing the "Sail On" verse.

Neil Young, born November 12, 1945, is known for his protest songs.  This one, "This Note's For You", is a song about the commercialization of songs.  You will have to click through to You Tube (and watch an ad, probably!) to listen to this song. What irony!

And now, my blog must take a sad turn.  As I was at a produce stand yesterday, discussing apples with my spouse, my manager (a big Jeopardy fan) texted me with the news that Alex Trebek had passed away at the age of 80.

My heart is broken.  A life cut short by pancreatic cancer.   May he forever RIP.

A tribute probably tomorrow.  For now, I'll leave you with this.  Alex didn't do much singing but he read a lot of answers about music.  Here he recites...well, it's kind of funny.

Join me again next week for another edition of #MusicMovesMe.

A Sad New Year

 (This is a non partisan political post)

I am an introvert, and I don't make friends easily.  But there is one woman I could have wished to have known.  

Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

Why?

Because true friends are hard to find, and I htink she would have been an amazing friend.  Here is a post by a woman who was her friend.

When I found out, about 9pm last night, that she had passed away after many long battles with her health, I went to Facebook, and found that my wall had blown up, with so many of my Facebook friends sharing the news of her death.

Maybe we thought she would live forever.  She was the Notorious RGB, after all, the woman who fought cancer after cancer, underwent surgery after surgery, chemo, radiation, and yet would show up at the Supreme Court to do her work, without fail.

Justice Ginsberg had wanted to retire, but never did.  At 87, she was still working when her body finally gave out.  She was finally taken by pancreatic cancer, the cancer that has taken three of my relatives.

People called her a hummingbird.  She only weighed 85 lb towards the end of her life, but what an 85 lb it was.  Hummingbirds are birds of endless energy, gems in small packages.  When we see one in our gardens, we gasp in awe, because...because we know we are in the presence of something special.

It is said only the most righteous die on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. 

Now RGB is owned by history.  There are some who feel some of her decisions were pure evil.  I am not one of them.

May her memory be a blessing.

 

A Chance Blown? #blogboost

President Jimmy Carter, who was President from 1977 to 1981, celebrated his 95th birthday this week.

In 2015, he was diagnosed with  stage IV melanoma, highly aggressive.  He spoke for almost 40 minutes at the press conference where he announced his cancer diagnosis, dressed in blue jeans and a blazer.  But he is still with us.

Which leads me to how I blew my chance to see Jimmy Carter back in 2009.

I had gone to Americus, Georgia to visit the nearby Andersonville Civil War POW site and Plains, Georgia, the birthplace of Jimmy Carter.

While staying at a B&B, I was told that Jimmy Carter taught Sunday School every Sunday he was in the area.  He was still doing extensive travel for his charity and foreign relations work, and, when I looked up his schedule, it said online he wasn't going to be at church that Sunday.

I felt a little uncomfortable, being of a different faith, and decided not to go to the service.  The set up was:  service first, then the Sunday School.  You had to go to the service to go to the Sunday School.

If I had gone, I would have seen him, because, as it turns out, he did teach that Sunday.

We had talked about going back to Americus this past April (2019).  Jimmy Carter is still teaching Sunday School, by the way.  What a lesson in Profiles in Courage.

So the obvious lesson of this moment is:  Grab the moment.  Don't let the discomfort of a new experience keep you from a once in a lifetime opportunity.

But there's one more thing I wanted to blog about.

At the 2015 press conference, there was one last surprise.  I have blogged about my family history of pancreatic cancer (on both sides of my family) - an aunt, an uncle, and a great aunt.  It turns out that Jimmy Carter may have the most extensive pancreatic cancer history of any living person.

Pancreatic cancer killed his father, brother and two sisters (all of his siblings).  His mother died from breast cancer that spread to her pancreas.

But, despite all this, he plans to continue working as long as he can.    And, as of right now, he still is.

While I, drawing closer to age 67, waffle about retirement.

I am in awe of Jimmy Carter.  No matter what your politics, this man deserves our respect. 

Due to circumstances, I still may not be able to get away from Americus until next year.  And then - will I try to see President Carter teaching?


We'll see.

Day 5 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge #blogboost

Can Purple Be the Color of Hope?

I wish purple could be the color of hope.

Maybe there is hope, given the good news recently released about the health of beloved Jeopardy host Alex Trebek. 

He is responding well to treatment for his stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

But the news isn't all good.  Pancreatic cancer has struck again.  This time, it took a talented woman I did not know personally, but others I know (through blogging) knew and loved her.

In the past several months, pancreatic cancer has taken the mother of someone I know, and someone I knew of as a great advocate for eldercare issues in our community.  I got to meet her less than a year before her death. 

Alex Trebek gives much of the credit for his cancer shrinking to the millions of people who have been praying and thinking of him.  But prayer is not enough.  We must help ourselves.

Pancreatic cancer, and other "rare" cancers needs to be "brought up to speed".  This cancer needs to have some type of early detection, the way breast cancer and cervical cancer have.  It needs  publicity.  It needs marathons.  All cancers need funding.  It is true that pancreatic cancer is only about 3% of cancer diagnoses in our country.  But isn't it strange that, for its 3% rate, so many of us seem to know someone who has had it.

Yes, having had three relatives die from this cancer (my late aunt was the youngest), makes it personal.  While the survival rates for some cancers have (thankfully) increased, the rates for pancreatic cancer have not.

I do wish recovery for all patients with this dread cancer, whether or not they have extensive support systems.  And I am cautiously optimistic about Trebek, because I also know how quickly good news can turn to bad when it comes to cancer.

I seriously want him to return to Jeopardy for season 36 in September.

So, pretty please....

I want purple (the color symbolizing pancreatic cancer) to be the color of hope.  Besides hopes and prayers, what can we do to make it happen?

If Only Jeopardy Could Cure Cancer

Today, millions of people face, in shock, the news announced by beloved 78 year old Jeopardy host Alex Trebek that he has been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer.


Jeopardy has become an institution.  When I heard the news, I went right to Facebook - as it happens, I went to high school and college with a future Jeopardy champion, and she had already posted.
Pancreatic cancer is personal for me, as I blogged back in August of 2018 (and most of that post follows).  It killed an aunt, an uncle and a great aunt (both sides of my family have been touched).  Someone I walked with at lunch for years lost her brother in law to it.  A former boss lost her sister to it.  And on and on.

Pancreatic cancer is personal to the purveyor of the best fried fish in the universe, too, and to many others.  Perhaps this is why the news about Alex Trebek shocked so many.


I wrote most of the following post in November of 2009.  To me, it is shameful that pancreatic cancer remains one of the most deadly, if not most deadly, of cancers.  It's hard to detect early, which would be a key to early treatment.

One day pancreatic cancer will be as easy to diagnose as breast cancer, or cervical cancer.  We can always dream.  And pray.  At one of the fundraisers back in 2009, we saw an information plaque which gave various facts about pancreatic cancer.  One of them was pretty sobering:  it said that the state of pancreatic cancer research is approximately where breast cancer research was in the 1930's.

Well, we who were alive in the 1970's know how much the fight against breast cancer has advanced since then.

Circa 1960's, if a woman was suspected of having breast cancer, she went under the knife.  Many times they did something called a frozen section biopsy while the woman was under.  If this biopsy was positive for cancer, the mastectomy was done then and there.  No counseling, no opportunity for the woman to make a treatment decision, no warning, no nothing.  The woman woke up minus a breast.  Who cared about her feelings?

How grateful we women (and men, as men get breast cancer, too - did you know that?) should be for the amount of progress made since then.

Now it is time to apply that same can-do spirit to pancreatic cancer.  Why?
1.  There was no early detection method for pancreatic cancer (as of 2009, and I believe that is still true).
2.  (partially as a result of #1) this is one of the most deadly forms of cancer there is.  We were talking an approximately 4% survival rate after five years in 2009.  Now it's up to 7%, according to the American Cancer Society.

It is not unknown for people to die less than a month after diagnosis.  That is devastating to the family, never mind the person with the cancer.

3.   Not that celebrities should be more important than the rest of us but do you remember:  Michael Landon?  Jack Benny?  Donna Reed?  Rex Harrison?  Joan Crawford?  Fred Gwynne? Luciano Pavarotti?  (some of these are more baby boomer icon names). How about Sally Ride? Patrick Swayze? Steve Jobs? Bonnie Franklin? Pernell Roberts? Aretha Franklin?

The sad but true fact is that it is the loss of celebrities (or the famous) that call people to action.  Although, as this article points out, there aren't too many "famous" spokepeople for this illness-they don't survive long enough.

If a cause isn't (excuse the expression) "sexy", it doesn't get the money.

Pancreatic cancer certainly doesn't get money for research the way some other cancers do.  Not to take away the importance of any cancer, but I believe funding must become more even between types of cancer.

That would be such a wonderful way to honor our beloved Alex Trebek.  My thoughts are with him, as are the thoughts of millions of Americans.  Alex, we are pulling for you, and, indirectly, for all those, perhaps not so famous, in this fight.

(Written in memory of my aunt Trudy, who died from pancreatic cancer in August of 1974).

Pancreatic Cancer

Several years ago (I don't remember exactly when) I heard a rumor that Aretha Franklin had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

On Thursday, sadly, that rumor proved itself correct (I will do a musical tribute post to Aretha Franklin on Monday).

Pancreatic cancer is personal for me.  It killed an aunt, an uncle and a great aunt (both sides of my family have been touched).  Someone I walked with at lunch for years lost her brother in law to it.  A former boss lost her sister to it.  And on and on.

Pancreatic cancer is personal to the purveyor of the best fried fish in the universe, too.

Back in November of 2009, the food truck of a restaurant located in upstate New York, Doug's Fish Fry, did a month of pancreatic cancer fundraisers.  A portion of proceeds were donated to PANCAN.

I wrote most of the following post in November of 2009.  To me, it is shameful that pancreatic cancer remains one of the most deadly, if not most deadly, of cancers.  It's hard to detect early, which would be a key to early treatment.

One day pancreatic cancer will be as easy to diagnose as breast cancer, or cervical cancer.  We can always dream.  And pray.  At one of the fundraisers back in 2009, we saw an information plaque which gave various facts about pancreatic cancer.  One of them was pretty sobering:  it said that the state of pancreatic cancer research is approximately where breast cancer research was in the 1930's.

Well, we who were alive in the 1970's know how much the fight against breast cancer has advanced since then.

Circa 1960's, if a woman was suspected of having breast cancer, she went under the knife.  Many times they did something called a frozen section biopsy while the woman was under.  If this biopsy was positive for cancer, the mastectomy was done then and there.  No counseling, no opportunity for the woman to make a treatment decision, no warning, no nothing.  The woman woke up minus a breast.  Who cared about her feelings?

How grateful we women (and men, as men get breast cancer, too - did you know that?) should be for the amount of progress made since then.

Now it is time to apply that same can-do spirit to pancreatic cancer.  Why?
1.  There was no early detection method for pancreatic cancer (as of 2009, and I believe that is still true).
2.  (partially as a result of #1) this is one of the most deadly forms of cancer there is.  We were talking an approximately 4% survival rate after five years in 2009.  Now it's up to 7%, according to the American Cancer Society.

It is not unknown for people to die less than a month after diagnosis.  That is devastating to the family, never mind the person with the cancer.

3.   Not that celebrities should be more important than the rest of us but do you remember:  Michael Landon?  Jack Benny?  Donna Reed?  Rex Harrison?  Joan Crawford?  Fred Gwynne? Luciano Pavarotti?  (some of these are more baby boomer icon names). How about Sally Ride? Patrick Swayze? Steve Jobs? Bonnie Franklin? Pernell Roberts? And now, Aretha Franklin?

The sad but true fact is that it is the loss of celebrities (or the famous) that call people to action.  Although, as this article points out, there aren't too many "famous" spokepeople for this illness-they don't survive long enough.

If a cause isn't (excuse the expression) "sexy", it doesn't get the money.

Pancreatic cancer certainly doesn't get money for research the way some other cancers do.  Not to take away the importance of any cancer, but I believe funding must become more even between types of cancer.

That would be such a wonderful way to honor the memory of the Queen of Soul.

(Written in honor of my aunt Trudy, who died from pancreatic cancer in August of 1974).

How I Blew My Chance to See Jimmy Carter

Yesterday, hours after I posted on facing my mortality, a former President, recently diagnosed with cancer, held a news conference yesterday, shortly before he was going to get his first radiation treatment. In fact, he had also started chemo the day before.

He has stage IV melanoma, highly aggressive.  He spoke for almost 40 minutes, dressed in blue jeans and a blazer.

What courage he showed in his news conference.  He even cracked a joke about the greatest failing of his Presidency (1977-1981).

Which leads me to how I blew my chance to see Jimmy Carter back in 2009.

I had gone to Americus, Georgia to visit the nearby Andersonville Civil War POW site and Plains, Georgia, the birthplace of Jimmy Carter.

While staying at a B&B, I was told that Jimmy Carter taught Sunday School every Sunday he was in the area.  He was still doing extensive travel for his charity and foreign relations work, and, when I looked up his schedule, it said online he wasn't going to be at church that Sunday.

I felt a little uncomfortable, being of a different faith, and decided not to go to the service.  The set up was:  service first, then the Sunday School.  You had to go to the service to go to the Sunday School.

If I had gone, I would have seen him, because, as it turns out, he did teach that Sunday.

We had talked about going back to Americus this March.  Jimmy Carter is still teaching Sunday School.  We didn't, and lost our chance.  Although, Jimmy Carter does plan to continue to teach it as long as he can, I also know a little (from a friend's experience) of what radiation treatment to the brain can do.

So the obvious lesson of this moment is:  Grab the moment.  Don't let the discomfort of a new experience keep you from a once in a lifetime opportunity.

But that wasn't all.

But then, at the conference, there was one last surprise.  Yesterday, I had blogged about my family history of pancreatic cancer.  It turns out that Jimmy Carter may have the most extensive pancreatic cancer history of any living person.

Pancreatic cancer killed his father, brother and two sisters (all of his siblings).  His mother died from breast cancer that spread to her pancreas.

But, despite all this, he plans to continue working as long as he can.   

I am in awe of Jimmy Carter and how he faced his mortality in public yesterday.  No matter what your politics, this man deserves our respect.

What a lesson he taught yesterday.

Facing Our Mortality

I hesitated a lot - a lot, before writing this post. 

I suspect that most bloggers practice some degree of self-censorship.  Don't discuss certain topics.  Treat other ones lightly.  But I saw something on Facebook the other day that, as the current saying goes, I can't unsee.

Yesterday, I had lunch with a friend.  Her husband died from a combination of causes, including stroke and several cancers and spent his final year or so in a nursing home.

Earlier this year, my friend was treated for breast cancer.

We were chatting about "this and that" when I brought up a topic that I normally don't bring up in conversation.  No, instead, I opened my mouth and out it came.

I started to talk to her about an article I had read online yesterday called "How Doctors Die".  It was published a couple of years ago by an online magazine and made it to my Facebook timeline earlier this week. It was written by a doctor.

Doctors don't die like the rest of us, said this doctor.  The difference is extraordinary, according to this article. 

Many doctors, faced with an advanced life threatening illness, choose not to be treated.

What grabbed me was the beginning - a mentor of the author, and a doctor himself, found a lump in his stomach.  It was pancreatic cancer.  This doctor made the decision not to get treatment.

I have thought about pancreatic cancer from time to time over the years.  Three of my relatives died from it.  I don't know what type they had, but I do know the life expectancy statistics are not good.  I also know there is a genetic component.  My doctor has confirmed that, but he has nothing to offer me.

Right now, there is no test - no pap smear, no mammogram, no PSA test, for pancreatic cancer.

Why did this article grab me?  Because one of my three relatives who died from this cancer was a doctor.  I had lost touch with that branch of my family so never knew the details, only the death.  But now, I started to wonder if he had sought treatment. This man was a brilliant doctor, known for his ability to diagnose cases that stumped others.  He must have known the odds.

My aunt, who was in her early 50's, did know her odds of survival, I suspect.  She worked in insurance (I'm not sure if it was life or health but it was one of them) - in claims.  But some other family members were in total denial. "You'll get better", they said, even as she wasted away.  I moved to where she lived (a move planned before her diagnosis) while she was in her final months, and saw her decline. 

My son's pediatrician died several years ago.  I suspect he chose not to be treated for his condition, either.  Instead, there was a party for him, all his former patients invited, and he died not that long after.

This article suggests that Dr. Murray is not alone in his view.

My friend has told me, more than once, that if her cancer returns, and doctors want to give her chemo, she will not do it - except, perhaps, in an experimental program where she can benefit others.  My friend is deeply religious, and is comfortable with her decision.  So when I opened my mouth yesterday - we had a friend to friend talk.

I have other friends who faced a grim diagnosis by undergoing the treatments the medical profession suggested.  In fact, I know several people who survived when the odds were against them.

Treatment is an extremely personal decision and I would never give anyone any advice on facing their mortality.  I haven't had such a diagnosis. My time has not come yet and I have no right to think any less of anyone who takes a path that works for them, whether it is full treatment or no treatment, or something in between. I am not a deeply spiritual person, but knowing a number of people in the past few years who have faced death with dignity has  made me think a lot about what I would do.

There is no easy way to face our mortality, or the mortality of a friend or loved one.

I usually end my blog posts with a question. Not this time.  Because right now I just don't know what to think.

And no, I can't unsee the article.

The Last Fish Fry

Tonight was the last Dougs Fish Fry to Go benefiting PanCAN.


Thank you for making the trip, Dougs, and letting us enjoy yur wonderful fish the last three weeks.  And thank you for all your work in helping the cause of fighting pancreatic cancer.

You rock!

Fighting Pancreatic Cancer One Fish at a Time

Just finished my yummy fish dinner from our local Pancreatic Cancer fundraiser.  (I wrote about that yesterday).

Unlike last week, we visited while it was still light.  So we saw an information plaque which gave various facts about pancreatic cancer.  One of them was pretty sobering:  it said that the state of pancreatic cancer research is approximately where breast cancer research was in the 1930's. 

Well, we who were alive in the 1970's know how much the fight against breast cancer has advanced since then.

Circa 1960's, if a woman was suspected of having breast cancer, she went under the knife.  Many times they did something called a frozen section biopsy while the woman was under.  If this biopsy was positive for cancer, the mastectomy was done then and there.  No counseling, no opportunity for the woman to make a treatment decision, no warning, no nothing.  The woman woke up minus a breast.  Who cared about her feelings?

How grateful we women should be for the amount of progress made since then.

Now it is time to apply that same can-do spirit to pancreatic cancer.  Why?
1.  There is no early detection method for pancreatic cancer.
2.  (partially as a result of #1) this is one of the most deadly forms of cancer there is.  We are talking an approximately 4% survival rate after five years.

It is not unknown for people to die less than a month after diagnosis.  That is way devastating to the family, never mind the person with the cancer.

3.   Not that celebrities should be more important than the rest of us but do you remember:  Michael Landon?  Jack Benny?  Donna Reed?  Rex Harrison?  Joan Crawford?  Fred Gwynne? Luciano Pavarotti?  (some of these are more baby boomer icon names.)  And of course (recently) Patrick Swayze. 

And, the sad but true fact is that it is the loss of celebrities (or the famous) that call people to action.  Although, as this article points out, there aren't too many "famous" spokepeople for this illness-they don't survive long enough.

And, if a cause isn't (excuse the expression) "sexy", it doesn't get the money.

Pancreatic cancer certainly doesn't get the money.

We must change that.

(Written in honor of my aunt Trudy, who died from pancreatic cancer in 1974).