On May 5th I went under the knife for the third and (I hope) last time. When I saw my surgeon in ICU two (three?) days later he told me that he found "the world's worst ulcer." Half of my esophagus was gone, along with about a third of my stomach. But, the good news would come a week later when the results of the biopsies showed only "microscopic loci of cancer" remaining. The docs had gotten it all; now all that remained was the recovery.

I spent most of the rest of May in the hospital, being fed through the tube in my intestine. I was released May 23rd, the day before my 5th wedding anniversary. I was still not allowed to eat or drink anything, due to a tiny hole in what's left of my esophagus. This healed within a couple of weeks and I was cleared to start eating again, though I was unable to manage much more than clear liquids. I was taking most of my nourishment through the tube in my intestine. My upper esophagus would have to be dilated three times before I'd be able to manage any more. By late September, I'd had my esophagus dilated for the last time and I was beginning to eat more-or-less normally again. I stopped the tube feedings around the first of October.

We saw the docs for my first follow-up just a couple of weeks ago. While I'm not officially cured until next May, everyone is optimistic. The cancer is gone, clompletely, totally, thoroughly, and in all other ways GONE. I'm beginning to gain back some of the almost 90 pounds I lost, though I'll never get back all of it. Frankly, I don't want to; I was too fat. The feeding tube was removed last Wednesday (11/8), and I'm already feeling more energetic and just plain "normal."

This past weekend my wife, Karen, and I celebrated by taking a trip to Cleveland for a food show. While there, we attended a demonstration by one of our favorite Food Network chefs and bought one of her cookbooks to have signed. At the signing I passed her an envelope with a brief letter and three of my favorite recipes. That was Friday.

We spent most of the next day, Saturday, shopping in Cleveland and wrapped things up by relaxing over drinks in our hotel's cocktail lounge. I was sipping my second martini when I happened to look up and noticed the Food Network chef whose book we'd had signed in the lobby. After some brief prompting from my wife, I got up and introduced myself to her. She could have blown me off and I wouldn't have blamed her in the slightest; but she was polite and gracious as I (briefly) told her my story and that watching her show on the Food Network had given me something to hold onto throughout this awful experience. Her husband came along during this, and he stood by just as graciously as she did. When I was finished I got a huge hug and a warm handshake; they made my birthday one I'll never forget.

I've been on one hell of a wild ride since 1998, and I'm hoping the thrill part of the ride is done. I'm ready to relax and enjoy the rest of my life. It's time for someone else to have some thrills. Trust me, this hasn't been my idea of excitement. . .