La Virgen de Guadalupe

As I mentioned in the previous post, I was in Mexico City the weekend after Thankstaking.
The documentary was entered in Mexico City's first ever Chicano Film Festival, la 1era Festival de Cine Chicano en México. The event was a historic bi-national discussion on Chicano and Latino identity. Though attendance was sparse, it was still a great time. A few hours after I arrived on Friday, I had breakfast with Guadalupe, Julie, Jose Luis Ruiz, Robert Young and Edward James Olmos. Pretty Chingon, eh. Later that night we had a formal dinner with all the folks involved, including a bunch of heads from Tucson.
Saturday morning, Julie, Guadalupe and I made a pilgrimage to the La Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe. When mom found out I was head to D.F., she told me visit la Virgen, as did a ton of other folks. I know there were many Catholics praying to la Virgen for me during my surgery and chemotherapy. A visit was the least I could do.
I'll spare you my critical thoughts on Tepeyac hill and the Basilica that is constructed in plain view of Aztec ruins.
We first went to the new basilica, which has the shape of a UFO. There were hundreds, if not a couple thousand people, on the grounds, praying inside the basilica, making a manda and taking photos. After a prayer inside the basilica, where I was able to see the tilma of Cuauhtlatoatzin/Juan Diego, we walked up the hill to the teocalli built in honor of La Virgen. Outside the small chapel, I light a candle in her honor and went in with the other pilgrims and guadalupanos. Inside I knelt at her altar and prayed a bit of the rosary.
On our way down, i snagged a Bougainvillea for my own Guadalupe. Apparently that's forbidden in La Virgen's garden.
I felt something at the basilica. The sacredness of the site was strong, but the feeling was human. what I meant is I've had spiritual experiences, experiences that don't make sense if you are not spiritual. sensations from another place. but what I felt there, on that hill, was the energy that all the pilgrims brought to the sight: joy, sadness, hope and despair.
and that's what made the site holy, to me.
by the way, we took the best documentary award.

happy holidays -- tuberculosis

(Loyola High School Class of 1997 Reunion: Julia Beaver, Matt "Grandpa" Wells, El Saladito, Guadalupe Chávez, Sarah Canepa Pastran, Armando "Fatty" Pastran, Jr.)

so it has been quite a while since I've updated my share of the blog. i've been busy, to say the least. expect a few posts this week.
so the first update...i went back to Los Angeles for thankstaking. the evening after turkey day, my family hosted a thank you party for everyone that prayed and thought positive things. Thank you to everyone that came. I met a ton of new people that night and must have introduced Guadalupe to at least 50 people.
That Saturday, Nov. 24, was my 10 year high school reunion. The following night I flew back to Arizona, where I had to drive two hours from Phoenix to Tucson. It's cheaper to fly out of Phoenix, I've discovered, but pulling into town at 2 a.m. is kinda ' harsh.
So upon returning home, I found a stack of mail on my desk, including a letter from the Pima County Health Department.
It starts: "Dear Patient: We are writing to inform you that you may possibly have been exposed to tuberculosis while you were at the Arizona Cancer Center from January through August of this year, 2007."
Apparently there was a patient who had an active case of TB during treatment. The signs weren't caught because the symptoms are the same as chemo. -- weight loss and a cough. Our health and medical reporter told me it's usually not until people lose 20 pounds and cough up blood that its caught.
i wasn't able to get tested on Nov. 30 as I was in Mexico City (more on that later), so I went last Friday.
The clinic was really well organized for mass TB tests. It was a three part process: register, follow the nurse, and get injected. As ever, the needle freaked me out, but I kept my cool. I was in and out within ten minutes.
The injection spot is then re-examined 48-72 hours later to see if I've got TB. I don't.
I chose not to write about this until now because there was no need to worry anyone.

December December, remember the 4th of December

Today...today is very bittersweet. Today is the day i was discharged from the Navy 5 years ago. And for the past 3 of those years, Ive thought long and hard about those last few weeks. There isn't a day that goes that i don't regret coming home. I think about it a lot...What were my options? Get my chemo in Evanston, get better, graduate, get pushed out the fleet, stand on the port side of some ship...over looking a port-of-call in some far land. Or come home...what makes some angry at myself...i ran. Thats one of the reasons i left for the Navy. I was running from the Paul that i was. I wanted to get as far away from everything as possible. Start a new...not be me. They funny thing is, when life...through me one fucked up curve ball, and i folded. I failed. One thing. One fucking thing....I couldn't deal i ran home. Up to that point in life...ive never been one to finish anything. The one thing i tried, worked..fuck, damn nearly made myself pass out for, i caved. I caved at the first real obstacle. I resorted to what i knew best. Running. Looking back at it. Not only did i let myself down, i let everyone down...though some may have a different opinion. I tired so hard...tried to prove to others that i can do something worth wild. Not just be, but be...something.

There were nights drinking with the lads, id drink myself retarded. And one of those nights, i had a moment of clarity...i realized i wasn't happy being home. I was bitter, angry, down right mean. And why? Well...i realized that i wasn't man enough to face a fear...and in doing so...i ran back home. Facing that...is something Ive tried to deal with for a long time. Hmmm.

Like i said, there inst a day that goes that i wish i could have done things different. But like i also said...its bittersweet. I wouldn't the person you're reading about now. Its funny how a failure makes you a better person. I didnt tell anybody id come home for a few weeks.

Two days later, on the 6^th, my Godson was born. He's 5 on Thursday...and he likes the Ramones. After nearly a year of not working, i went back to school, got hooked with a nice girl, job a decent job, did stuff, moved on, watched my friends piss on my car, toss beer cans out the windows on the 605, get a degree, start life all over again, 9 to 5, gain weight, wear Khakis and dress shirts to work, meet some new and good friends, watch my niece and godson grow, play Star Wars Galaxies just about everyday, hook up with a really hot girl, fall into depression, lose a best friend over something lame, meet an ogre ...and tell to fuck off, get a new job, start what looks like a long career, buy a motorcycle, watch my godson watch his first Ramones video, start a blog about my cancer story, miss old friends, look to the future.

Ultimently, did i make the correct decision coming home? Yes. Am I better person because of it? Yes? Do I still regret? Yes

Ive had this song in my head all day...

Cheers lads!

A Pint Glass of Water

I actually said that in a bar last weekend. Twice to be exact. Of course they didn't put their bar water into a nice pint glass like everyone else with a beer. i got a little plastic cup. I didn't mind. When it was time to toast my colleague who was on his way out of Tucson and into the swamp we call Washington, D.C., i hoisted high my glass of water.


this is a far cry to the pre-chemo George.


Fact is I've only had one beer since mid-August. It was about three weeks ago; to celebrate Julie's visit to Tucson. It was a skinny bottle of Fat Tire ale. Good beer. I used to be able to polish one of those in about 90 seconds. this time it took me 45 minutes. it gave me a buzz and wiped me out an hour later.


I've been to house gatherings and parties since I finished chemo.. For the first time in my bar wandering life I have been able to sit in a pub, dive or at a dinner table and not get anxious for some sort of alcohol concoction.


I remember going into chemo. and asking Dr. Ahmann if I could drink during my treatment. (Wow -- that's a sign of something: either a problem or dedication... or likely both). He said I could have a drink with dinner. Moderation is key, he reminded me. He didn't know my habits.


But looking at how alcohol affected me that night with Julie, I just don't need it right now.

One month and day

Yesterday marked one month since my last session of chemotherapy.
the first thing I've noticed since finishing chemo. is that every day, I'm a little stronger. While I've got to pay attention to my body and not push myself, every day is better.
This morning I arose early for traffic school (remember that -- the consequence of disgracing Tucson's law abiding bicyclists...).
As I was driving back to my apartment this afternoon, I ran my right hand over my head and face and felt the short hairs sprouting up all over. If I'm lucky, I'll have slight beard for my high school reunion. I planned on rolling like Common -- bald head and beard.
but I noticed for the first time that my face, my flesh, doesn't feel waxy or dead, like it did through chemo., or that the flesh of my face doesn't have that chemo. scent to it.
This week I swam twice. Of course I wasn't able to do much, but just getting back in the pool was amazing. Before chemo. I'd usually swim for about 45 minutes. before my workout, I'd warm up with a 500 meter swim. right now, 500 is about all I can handle so far. but it's nice to be able to do that.
I was in San Francisco last weekend. Saw Phil, Harley, Diana and a host of others. most importantly I was reunited with Guadalupe. It was the first time in six weeks we were able to speak each others name and simultaneously look into each others eyes. I'll write about our hotel experience another time.
Tomorrow I join Francisco and others in the first Jarocho jam I've been able to do since before surgery.
funny -- the difference the first month makes.
it's good to be back.

Letter to the Editor in the Arizona Daily Star

This was published the Letters to the Editor section of today's Arizona Daily Star
...
Article unfairly targeted TUSD

Re: the Oct. 28 article "Kids' programs at risk as TUSD shortfall grows."

Unfortunately for Tucson Unified School District students, staff and parents, sensationalized stories erode the public trust in what should be the keystone of the community — the public school system. If continued, this predatory journalism will exact long-term damage to public education in this community. There are no better examples of this than articles by George B. Sánchez. Regarding his story on potential budget cuts discussed at a recent TUSD Governing Board meeting. The reporter fails to mentionthat he didn't attend the meeting, and therefore was not aware of the context or discussion of the listing of specific items on the draft document. Rather than listen to the available online audio transcriptof the meeting, the reporter simply reported on what would be the most sensationalized program cuts, which were in fact only included as items for discussion. TUSD does not need to be the target of continued "gotcha" journalism. We need the support of our community.

Chyrl Hill Lander
Director of communications and media relations,
Tucson Unified School District, Tucson

Editor's note: TUSD officials are aware that Sánchez did not attend the Oct. 9 governing board meeting because he was in chemotherapy.The Star's Josh Brodesky reported on the meeting.

Oct. 9, 2007

I just finally got around to scanning this photo.

it was taken by the nurses on my last day of chemotherapy. As you can tell by the note on the poloroid, it has been almost one month since I completed chemo..

You'll note the blue bandage on my right arm, just above the bracelet (a gift from Esme). the bandage was applied to my arm after the last blood test to measure the cancer markers. the blue bandages had a funny name that I can't recall anymore.

And on my left hand, the shunt, where the nurses administered my last dose of bleomycin. A slow ten-minute injection that is preceeded by intravenous benadryl and some other premeds. We usually had to wait half an hour after the bendryl injection to move forward with the bleo. It took about that much time for the drug to circulate. I used to fight off the sleepiness that followed bleo. Both my mom and Guadalupe laughed when I did so. but I'd eventually give in.
As you can tell by the photo, I'm smiling and staring at the bubbles, the shiny spheres floating on the upper right edge of the photo.

At the conclusion of chemotherapy, the nurses give you a bubble shower, or bubble party, to celebrate the occasion. I witnessed one such event on my first day of chemotherapy, in August. Now i was having my own.