FENCES

Growing up in eastern Idaho I had miles in which I could roam without ever encountering a fence...and so I did...it was my habit to wake up with the birds,,,make a lunch of peanut butter and honey on white bread that promised to build strong bodies in twelve miraculous ways...and head into the hills behind the house before the sun had broken the horizon. I was almost eight years old and there wasn't a fence that could stop me.

There were eventually five of us kids and so to help my mom get through the next pregnancy and just "cuz they love havn' us around" my grandparents would take each one of the older three in for a couple of weeks each summer. My mom's folks were very self sufficient people... raising their own chickens and a pig each year...early on they had a cow for milk...fruit trees for canning...and a garden that supplied everything else a person could need except fish!

Fresh fish were a necessity in my grandmother's eyes and so we stalked them with a passion...you didn't walk up to the stream and cast your line in...you crawled the last fifteen feet and peered between the tall grasses into crystalline water where you could see the brookies pulsing in the current.

But first you had to get there...and the better the fishing the more fences there were and of course the more gates involved. My favorite was Ching Creek which boasted eleven gates to open between the little town of Kilgore and the secret camping spot. Then, as now, the treasured spot to be in on the ride anywhere was "shotgun"...on the door in the front seat...where you could hang you arm out the window...fly your hand like a kite...and feel the warm summer air on your face....that was the coveted position to be in unless en route to Ching Creek and the eleven gates!

Each gate had a different and increasingly more difficult mechanism involved to open it....they were all made of posts and barb wire...which once released from the grasp of the fence as a whole....would fall limply onto the ground where the strands of wire would enter twine into a mess that usually took at least two people to untangle....therefore it was "shotgun's" job to get the gate loose from the fence and while holding it taught...swing it aside to allow the car to get through...and then position your body on the other side of the gate and reattach the gate to the fence..."and hurry up about it...the fish are bittin'!!!"

The fences in those days were made to keep things in...yes there were gates but all that was asked was that you closed them behind you "please"...but otherwise one seldom saw a NO this or No that posted on a sign and I don't recall any NO TRESPASSING...ever. The only signs I can remember were notices posted...on a post...(I wonder if that is where the word posted got it glorious start)...these were often notices warning us of the dangers of the dreaded Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever or informing us of an upcoming rodeo in the next county but you never came across one warning of litigation if boundaries were ignored...no... these fences kept cattle and sheep in their respected places and gates allowed us fisher persons to hunt and gather.

As I recently found myself contemplating fences I realized just what an important role they have played in my life...as a boy I could jump most of them and of course it became a competition. I got my first job because of a fence. Our neighborhood had lots of fences to keep the dogs home and most were of the four inch square wire kind and then someone invented chain link...but the one that landed me my first job was a brand new picket fence of red cedar with numerous knots in each plank...each knot looking very much like a bulls eye on a target and when you eleven years old and there is a bulls eye in sight and a rock within reach and a friend to complete the term "friendly competition"....then trouble can start itself... as it did that day. There were three of us and lots of rocks and at least one hundred feet of new fence with bulls eyes "abeggin"!! I was the first to hit the target...which to our surprise knocked out the knot...which of course raised the stakes and caused the size of the projectiles to increase to meet the challenge and before you knew it we had ventilated that brand new fence to the point that a gentle breeze was now able to move through the owners back yard. But that's not exactly what happened next...no... the owner...a really nice lady who was "oh so proud" of her new fence came around the far corner with tears in her eyes caused by our friendly competition followed by blood in those same eyes as she asked us "What in God's Good Name do you think you are doing?!!!"

Now at eleven a boy is extremely intelligent....but to a question of this magnitude his natural reaction is RUN...which my two friends did...being just that much more intelligent than I...but I knew and respected this distraught woman...so I stood there and in those next few milliseconds as she covered the distance between the corner of the fence and my skinny eleven year old body...I have my first epiphany...realizing what a horrible thing we had done in destroying her fence in the pure joy of target practice. Hence I got my first job as a shoeshine boy in my great uncles shoe repair shop and it took me most of that summer to pay for my part of the replacement cost (my friends folks coughed up their share) but I learned how to shine shoes and remained a good neighbor to that poor woman...although I know to this day that those tiny hairs on the back of her neck came up a bit when I came around! Sorry.

Today, I am again faced with fences playing a part in my life. They say a good fence makes good neighbors and I suppose that's true. I had started one at my place in hopes of putting some critters in to keep down the summer grass. Our neighbor brings in a couple of horses or a cow or two each year to keep the field grass down and had offered to put them on my property for the same reason if I had some way to contain them (I think mention of a steak barbecue had come up when the cattle were there) so I had started a fence before I decided to visit Minnesota...so in this case a fence truly could make good neighbors. But occasionally good neighbors and more so good friends...make a good fence....and while we are stuck out here "puttin' up a fence" around something that has gotten out of bounds within me...some good friends took the time to finish that fence I started at home... and this...like the other fences in my life...will change and shape me for years to come...because of that...I and Elaine would like to say "thank you" to each one of those involved...with all our hearts.

TATTOO CURIOSITY

A few folks have been inquisitive about my new tattoos. I always thought being tattooed was a bit frivolous, listing towards foolishness. I have numerous scars that I have earned honestly over my many years each with a story to tell...some quite interesting...some completely fabricated...like the one just below my left hip extending in a straight line to the outside curve of my patella...fancy words add to excitement and scar curiosity...I will tell my grandchildren as their curiosity wanders to grandpa's numerous scars{they become more evident with the passage of time}(scars and grandchildren)...that this lengthy scar was the result of a foolish quick draw accident when I was but a youth of their age with a new 22 pistol that only came with a left handed holster which can obviously be a dangerous situation for one born or raised as a right hander! In actuality this scar (don't anyone mention this to my children's offspring) actually came about when I decided to use a four foot, well built, solid particle board, red oak photo laminated, IKEA book case as a ladder to elevate me to a higher position in a storage unit to retrieve a most valued item that had been lost in storage for two years....I managed the climb up just fine but once the item was in my hand the combined weight of myself and the lost treasure became too great for the IKEA warehouse elevator and I began to descend (one shelf at a time) until I landed squarely on the concrete floor of the storage unit...."that wasn't so bad" I told Elaine as I stood proudly with our treasure in hand...to which she commented on the loss of a new pair of blue jeans due to the rip from pocket to knee pad...upon further investigation she suggested I do something about my new tennis shoes filling up with blood..."where'd that come from? I queried"

Have I told you about the scar that runs parallel and just above my left eyebrow....that one involves firewood and uncles and axes and gravity and eventually tricycles and motorcycles and of course more gravity...but I again digress...this is after all about tattoos.

Several have asked (with great curiosity) about my new tattoos...what are they and exactly where. Unfortunately mine are not the kind one might contemplate for months on end about...no mine were more, "here ya go mister"..."hope ya like these!"...actually the radiologist told me to hold very still (again) as she lined up my torso in the exact position and bam...she pokes me with a syringe filled with ink!!!...to which I jump and squeal (did I tell her I was a fireman?) But in my defense I do not believe this was actually a syringe like that used in a hospital but more possibly the likes of the old fountain pen I was taught to write cursive with when in grade school...those of you old enough to have at least one colonoscopy behind you (where else would you have one)...will know what I'm talking about...these pens were the reason for the small round hole in the upper right hand corner of those tiny old desks you see on antique shows or in museums...we weren't really that small...discomfort was the norm....that hole in the corner was called the ink well and the fountain pen was dipped into it to allow you to perform the magical task of putting thought to paper...at that age our thoughts were fleeting and not well suited to finding purchase on a piece of paper. The pen once dipped into the ink well and now full of our every thought would be brought to the surface of what was called paper in those days...no one had to tell you that paper was made from wood...you could see small chips and slivers of the very tree the paper came from on its surface and the pen didn't have a roller tip but was flat metal with a slit in the middle going up towards the handle (the slit being the stream on which the ink was to flow blithely towards the prose emanating from our minds caught up in that tiny little chair)....and as the metal tip of the pen hit the oooooh soooo smoooth surface of the paper our very thoughts would skate onto the surface with the flare of twenty little John Hancock's!...the end of that fountain pen was what that tattoo weapon felt like!...and you thought I had lost my train wreck of a thought of where I going with this!...which brings me back to tattoo curiosity...the tiny tattoos on my buttocks should not cause tattoo curiosity...tattoo curiosity is brought about by the girl on the Harley with the t-shirt that is struggling to find its way down to her jeans as she leans forward to control that two thousand pounds of metal muscle...you know the girl I'm talking about....the one that your wife declares..."what..is she crazy"...the one that causes fire trucks to list to that side as she passes by...the one that causes old guys with at least one colonoscopy behind them (because where else would it be) to think they ought to get a Harley...that girl, the one with the jeans that can't hold the shirt, that can't cover the top of a tattoo, that runs most of the way across her back just exposed above the belt...now that is the essence of tattoo curiosity!

Friends and Lovers

I mentioned that I had recently acquired a new friend...he goes with me everywhere...my wife says he is coming between us...literally! His name is IVAD and he is the little pump that delivers the Kryptonite that courses through my veins to help the radiation stop the cancer process ( I'll delve into this further). If the name IVAD tickles your memory sensors its probably because your a fan of Greys Anatomy or your wife is and there will be nothing else on at that hour on a Thursday night! The tickle comes when you remember IVAD's distant cousin the infamous LVAD which played a large role in one episode and also was vitally connected to another human being....and if you're not a fan of the show you are ready for me to move on. My new friend goes to bed with me...showers with me (almost comical...as he must not get wet!) and is the only one allowed in the room when I am being zapped by radiation....did I tell you about this place...the doors going into the room are 9 (nine) inches thick...the technicians set me in position on the table and then tell me to hold still for just a moment while they pack their backpacks to move to a distant location to run the damn thing...(there is a slight delay in our conversations, just like the corespondents reporting from Baghdad) and the only one there with me is IVAD!...and all of this is curing me!!! (they say!)...my new friend whirs ever minute or so delivering the Kryptonite via a little pump inside that is run by two Double A batteries...when I mentioned to Elaine that we could use the spares they gave us for our camera the nurse that was introducing me to IVAD slugged me!...no sense of humor these Kryptonurses...so now that I have my little whirring buddy at my side at all times you needn't worry that I might be getting lonely or have moments with no one to talk to...did I mention I've taught him some new words!

Lovers....can only be described as those who will stand by you at a time like this...when life goes beyond a challenge...when all dreams are set on a shelf for another day and your main focus is your ass!! Now that's dedication! My wife Elaine has covered all these bases and more and for that I will now publicly thank her...THANK YOU ELAINE...cancer is hard on the person who has it but it has to be at least twice as hard on those that have to remain this close and not be able to do anything but be supportive!...last week as we were killing time between appointments Elaine was browsing through a local newspaper and although she doesn't normally read the horoscopes, she happened across the one I will here plegurize...and I swear this is word for word!

Aquarius (my sign) Stamina is crucial to getting your job done. This one is not for the weak willed. Dig in and find your true grit. Work past the point in which you feel bored, strained or desperate. You'll make it if you try.

Is that almost spooky or what...I swear to God...we did not meet at a bar with me asking "whats your sign?"...she stole that news paper, cut out that section...I now use it as my book mark and my mantra!

Speaking of books...I picked up a new one yesterday and I can't put it down...if you know someone who has cancer...share this...if you know someone who is in remission...share this...if you know someone who never wants to get cancer in the first place....share this! Its called Anti Cancer...A New Way of Life...by David Servan-Schreiber , MD, PhD...he describes the cancer process and how we can fight it...great read...share this!

I AM SO PUMPED !!!

Today began the first round of chemo and radiation....let the cure begin....started with radiation..."do not move...a muscle...an inch...no squirming...sneezing....coughing...belching" just one session of radiation and I am a new person!! One who can lay motionless for extended periods of time.

Actually it was much different than I had expected...very minimal...once they laid me down on the rock hard, pre-chilled, no comfort zones available table and managed to get me to freeze on demand...it only took about ten minutes. The whole process should be much quicker tomorrow...did I mention this will go on for 28 days. The only thing that concerns me is that this seems much more benign than it sounded....maybe it is like a cute little snake in the grass...maybe an asp!

Next onto chemo...mental image...IV into arm (every day) until veins collapse...sitting in a barber chair turned chemo lounger for an hour or more...again a big surprise (the pumped I referred to)!!

Did I mention they implanted me with a tiny geodesic dome under my skin below my right clavicle...they call it a reservoir (no fishing)...from this a small tube runs around until it finds a good vein and jumps in there to provide the Kriptonite into my system! To deliver this they provided a pump I hang on my belt with a tube that runs to a wicked looking little needle that stabs into the aforementioned dome getting what I need where it needs to go. This system will keep me Kriptonited continuously for a week when I will return for a new needle and a refill on the pump! WOW

Now comes the hard part...day after day of routine....bus ride to the clinic....into the radiationatron...out in no time at all...then off to what?...don't get sick...avoid nausea...germs...ill people....bird flues and other media pandemics...and then what...can't cut wood for the winter...no lawn to mow...definitely no mountain to climb...I need a job!

Hair Raising Adventure

Tomorrow I begin with the daily doses of Kriptonite coursing through my veins...I am sooooo excited! I remember well, how Superman became nearly powerless in its presence... and I hear tell that it may affect my appetite and possibly cause other undesirable side effects...to this I say... do not shave your heads...I for one do not...on the day I get to come home...want to be greeted by more bald people!! As many of you know I have been looking forward to letting my hair grow (again) once I set foot on that beautiful island called retirement (careful what you wish for)...anyway...I have started that process and currently my hair has gotten to that unruly stage that those of you with curly hair can attest to is a total pain in the @$$ (I can't use that word anymore...I'm tired of talking about it)...now I am told that I may be at risk of it all falling out....when will the tricks of fate stop! I also swore that I would never grow a beard as soon as I retired as seems to be the unwritten tradition among retiring firefighters...well guess what!!...with every hair follicle becoming a precious thing I have started growing a goatee...if I am quick about it I may soon resemble that which I had hope to possess...(a goat...but that's another story)....did I mention I could ramble!!...if this fuzzy chin ever gets to the point it can be captured by the numerous mega pixels in my digital camera I promise to include a photo before it fades away...my oncologist tells me that I should not loose the hair on my head to which I thanked her and asked her if I could fore go my annual speedo waxing??....(sorry about the mental image)...we will see.

I will also begin radiation treatments...they have a new piece of equipment they call "The AssBlaster 3000"...no I'm not making that up...this is the 21st century...and I'm at the Mayo Clinic!...I am told this could give me a sun burn...(how do they get the sun in that thing)...and other undesirable side effects...all this to cure me!?!...I have started a regimen of vitamins and herbs and vegetables and roots and bark and stones and crystals and chants and prayers and mantras and if anyone else has something they have heard of that will take this from my body please let me know...if Max tells me that eating a giant cedar tree will do the trick...I say grab the chainsaw...I'll get the spoon.

Magical Herbs and Potions can be sent to:

Robert Lambrou

PO Box 503

Rochester Mn

55903

Welcome to our new site...we hope that this will be more user friendly and now that I am beyond the every day/all day appointments I promise to add a little something to make this worth checking out...caution: I have been known to ramble! Please feel free to comment and try sending photos and I will post new ones as we take them. We are off today looking for a suitable place to set up shop when we bring our fifth wheel back around the first of August just in time for surgeory...yeah...get this X%#@&!#% thing out of me! talk atcha later...Bob

WANDERINGS

Hello all,
I apologize that it has taken us so long to communicate our situation but we are just getting a grasp of it ourselves and as we have quite a large extended family--our phone time has been hectic as well. The facility and staff here at the Mayo Clinic are simply amazing, they are covering every aspect of my being.

We now have a prognosis and a plan for the cancer. It is a Stage Three cancer at the point where the colon and the rectum come together and has gone through the wall of the rectum but just barely. There is one lymph node that is "suspicious" but cannot be biopsied due to the fact that they would have to access it through the tumor itself which would very like give a false positive reading. All other tests, there have been many, and all extensive, have revealed no further spread. We feel very fortunate that the incentive to retire came along when it did or we may have let this go on too long before getting that all important checkup. Let this be a lesson to all of you who are getting close to the big 50...I know its not pleasant but get that Colonoscopy done so that you don't find yourselves in the position we are in today.

The Plan...I will start Chemo and Radiation on Monday the 18th and will continue for six weeks here at Mayo Clinic. We had hoped to come home but it's just not in the cards if we want to beat this thing. After the treatments they will let my body rest for four to six weeks prior to surgery during which time we hope to get back home and get our "new to us" fifth wheel and return to Minnesota for the operation which will keep me in the hospital for a week or so. There is a campground close to the clinic where we will reside during recovery and follow up Chemo and Radiation which will start again four to six weeks after surgery and last for another four months. The whole process will take approximately nine months but the prognosis is good...first I WILL survive this and second I will be fairly normal considering who we are talking about!

Elaine and I appreciate all the offers of help and she may be heading home in a few weeks to get our affairs in order on the homefront, depending on how the Chemo/Radiation treatments go and I may be asking for some assistance at that time as we are contemplating moving out of the house in Cascade so that it is ready to sell if someone makes an offer. We are contemplating selling most of our household goods and putting the rest in storage. Does Gypsy come to mind?

We will update this blog as we go along...it appears that we will have more free time once the treatments start. Thanks for your support and please post to this blog and let us know how all is going back in the world of normal.
Our love to all.

Update
Amazing we only had one appointment today so I will have time to get this out and everyone contacted. They wanted to take another good look at my blood before poisening the crap out of me so with that done we will move forward as scheduled. Two more appointments this week then on with the show! Boy are these guys thorough!!!

We were unable to figure out how to post a comment back to our blog so ignore that part if you have the same problem but if you are smarter than the average bear please share that info and we will get this going both ways. Thanks.

We walked back from the hospital about 2.5 miles today and discovered a greenbelt and were surprised by a deer running down the path in the middle of the day in the middle of town…and then again at the hotel another deer came running through the parking lot….if you here of a major quake in southern Minnesota…