FU Cancer

My Dad has been battling prostate cancer since right before Katrina (2005). The doctors removed his prostate in October 2005 and supposedly the cancer with it. His cancer returned about a year ago. He currently gets treatment five days a week.

He says, "I guess cancer doesn't grow on the weekends or holidays. And apparently you don't need a prostate to have prostate cancer."

My Dad is 76, but is quite active. I realize that I'm going to lose him soon-ish, but am not ready for that day yet.

My cousin Paul - three years younger than I am - has been battling colon and liver cancer for over three years. The doctors keep giving him a positive diagnosis - and then the cancer spreads or comes back. He's 41 years old. 41. He says that if this fifth regiment of treatment doesn't work, he's giving up. We don't believe him - and I really don't hope he's serious.

My aunt Barbara - Paul's mom, and my Mom's younger (66-year-old) sister - has been battling brain cancer for the last year. Her PET scan came back two weeks ago: The cancer has spread throughout her body. Her doctor says that she has single digit months to live. She is living with my cousin David - a doctor - and his gorgeous, patient wife Becki on the Northshore for now. The day before Mardi Gras (three days ago), however, she was admitted to the hospital for an irregular heartbeat. She was moved from the ICU to the "regular" hospital on Wednesday afternoon.

Carlos and I visited with Barbara on Ash Wednesday, while she was still in ICU. She is still Barbara, but we can tell that she is beginning to forget things: A physical therapist stopped in while we were visiting. While attempting to answer questions, Barbara sometimes deferred to Becki. Sample question: "How do you exercise daily?" Barbara wasn't sure and looked toward Becki for the answer.

Another update another day. I have more to add to this story, but I'm angry and upset right now - so have to move on.

Walking On Sunshine

This below question came up as off-handed comment in an email filled with unrelated material, in a Yahoo group that I'm in. It's a group comprised of around 60 people from around the world, none of which besides me live in New Orleans or even the Southeastern United States. The guy who posted the email is from out of the US. (I'd give him and his country credit, but I truly don't remember. I think it's the Netherlands.)

To answer his question, I combined my personal hurricane Katrina story with bits of my friends's stories to try to give a rounder picture of our situtation.

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>>BTW, speaking (earlier) about New Orleans... Today I saw a recap of 2 and a half years later and still, nothing has been done. Is this true? Why?<<

The short answer - No, that is not true. Thousands of people have worked really hard to try to bring New Orleans back. The media reports what it wants to see.

The long answer -

Imagine this situation: You've lived in New Orleans your entire life so you are used to hurricanes. At least once every few hurricane seasons (June 1 through November 30), there is one storm that you evacuate for. (You don't worry about the "minor" ones, only evacuating for the Category 3 or above storms.)

This new hurricane is predicted to hit to the east of New Orleans, but may shift so you call your friends in northern Louisiana and ask to stay for a few days. You pack three days worth of clothes. (That's as long as you've ever evacuated.) You put all your valuables in the attic. (When Betsy, the last major hurricane to hit New Orleans, came through your neighborhood in 1965, your house sustained one foot of water so you figure your stuff will be safe in the attic.)

You leave on Friday, August 26 with a full tank of gas and $500 in your pocket, telling everyone to have a good three day weekend.

Hurricane Katrina hits on Monday, August 29.

The National Guard finally lets you back into your neighborhood on Monday, October 3. You have been gone for over five weeks.

You had left a week's worth of food for your cat. He's been dead for a couple of weeks. Killed by a racoon.

Your house is on a hill six feet above the street, but the water still made it to your gutters and almost to your roof. A total of 17 feet. Remember that your same area received one foot of water during hurricane Betsy - and that water came in and was gone within a day. The water this time sat for over two weeks. Everything in your house is covered with black sludge. Mold is starting to crawl up your walls.

You call your home owners insurance company. They say that the damage to your house was caused by flood water which is not covered by your policy. They offer you $10,000 for the contents of your home. You call your flood insurance company. They tell you that the damage to your house was caused by wind damage not flood water. They offer you nothing.

You apply for a Road Home Loan - that you'll have to pay back in addition to the mortage still outstanding on your home. The Road Home has a nine-month waiting list. In the meantime, you max out your credit cards fixing up your home.

After two years, you're tired of living in a 150-square-foot FEMA trailer next to your house. You're ready to move home. The news reports about the trailers containing nearly toxic level of famaldahyde make you nervous.

Now imagine that situation has happened to EVERYONE you know in YOUR city. Every family member. Everyone on your street. Everyone in your neighborhood. Everyone you work with. Over 250,000 people.

How long would it take you and your city to recover?

My Job

Work-wise, I am the head of a university duplicating, printing, and graphics department. I work my ass off at my job. It's a tough job, but I really enjoy it.

Last week, I was helping my boss with some graphic work. My Assistant Manager overheard a compliment thrown my way by him. She sent this email to him later that afternoon:

I wish to relay my observations regarding Marshall's value to this dept. I overheard your comment about Marshall's speedy typing when you were in his office this afternoon. He works at that pace all day long every day.

As I gain experience in this dept. I am trying to lighten the load for him, but I feel that I have barely made a dent. After 9 months of training, Marshall is still teaching me the details of running this office. There appears to be no limit to the intricacies of form production/inventory, copy machine contracts/service and duplicating/printing.

Marshall is a fantastic teacher, an understanding boss, a superb coordinator, the king of multi-tasking and therefore, more efficient than anyone I have ever met. As a bonus, he is always cheerful and positive. I think he is probably irreplaceable, so let's hope that nothing entices him to stay in France while he's on vacation in October.

Thanks for 'listening'.

I didn't know anything about it until my boss forwarded the email to me with this comment: "Marshall, this is between you and I. Read below. I forwarded it to [his boss] and [his boss's boss]. I must say I have to agree with everything Karen said. You do an excellent job."

What a kind thing to do! That really made my day.

My Hurricane Katrina Story - Part II (U2 & Green Day)

The Saints (our football team) have definitely helped bring New Orleans back. Having the Saints playing in New Orleans again really brings a sense of normalcy back to us - and for the first season EVER, the Superdome is sold out with season ticket holders.

U2 and Green Day played at the first Saints game held in the Superdome since The Storm. We've hosted nine Super Bowls - more than any other city. Around the city that day, and the weekend right before that Monday night, New Orleans had the feel of hosting another Super Bowl. Plus, since I work two blocks from the Superdome, I was let out of work at 2 pm so I could avoid all the traffic. Go Saints!

Personally, things are relatively back to normal.

My house had sustained minor damage: the large tree in my front yard came down - taking my gutter with it, most of the wooden fence around my house was blown down, my roof lost about 15 shingles, the entire roof of my carport was torn away, my garage had around 3 inches of water in it for about a week, and my hot tub's motor flooded. My area of town thankfully didn't have any serious flooding. (Compared to friends of mine who had 17 feet of water sitting in their house for two weeks, mine was definitely minor damage.) I have fixed everything around my house that I want to for now, but it's an on-going project to finish.

Carlos and I both have our jobs. He's a school teacher and was back to work by October 2005. I work at a local university and went back around the same time. Our department had 179 pre-Storm employees. As of today, we're up to around 40. (My immediate department went from 20 to 3 employees.) We had to lay off the most of the rest because of lack of business, but some just couldn't get back to the city after evacuating because they had no place to live. I'm very lucky!

There are, of course, many areas of the city that will take years to be fixed. Imagine if your house and EVERY house within 10 miles of you had 5 to 17 feet of water sitting in it for two weeks. How long would it take you to recover?

Plus, these people are faced with questions like:
If I return, will I be the only one on my block or in my neighborhood?
What if the levees break again for the next hurricane?
In my area, will there be any schools or playgrounds for my kids? Any grocery stores for me?

We do have some humor about all this. A local organization has an on-going campaign consisting mainly of ubiquitous bumper stickers around the city that say "New Orleans: Proud To Call It Home". Pre-Storm, some clever residents parodied the statement with the bumper sticker "New Orleans: Proud To Crawl Home". Post-Storm, the new one "New Orleans: Proud To Swim Home" immediately started appearing on the bumpers of cars.

I took 100 pictures around the city in October/November 2005. I am narrowing them down to the best 50. Carlos and I are going to go to those same locations in the next couple of weeks to take pictures of the exact same locations one year later. I'm working on a slide show which I'll post to YouTube soon. I'll send a link once I'm finished.

Marshall

You Know You're From New Orleans When...

This comparison is the corner closest to my house, July 2005 (top) and TWO WEEKS post-Storm (bottom).

Because of the one year anniversary of The Storm, I've been revisiting my feelings about all this. I'm working on a post describing them. Until then, here's something for my fellow residents.

You Know You’re From New Orleans When…(Post-Katrina Version)

Pre-K has nothing to do with the year before Kindergarten.

The flies are bigger than your Chihuahua.

Your bank, dry cleaner, and grocery store are closed but your bar is not.

You judge your elevation by the brown horizontal line in the city.

You have to show an ID to get into your neighborhood.

Your neighborhood has no children, so you actually start to miss the little boys across the street who used to throw rocks onto your roof.

You go to Sam's Club, but instead of coming home with a case of pop tarts, you buy masks, bleach, rubber gloves, and baking soda in bulk.

You know five remedies to get the smell out of your refrigerator.

You spend a lot of time talking with your friends about the five remedies to get the smell out of your refrigerator.

Ice becomes more precious than gold.

Your office goes from 40 employees to 5.

Living in a house with twelve other people is not a sign of how poor you are, but how rich you are with friends and family.

You know what a double-evacuee is. (Damn you, Rita!)

FEMA means "failure to effectively manage anything" and hearing the words "Red Cross" makes your blood boil.

You get sick of hearing people from Baton Rouge tell you how bad the traffic is now. You remind them that Baton Rouge traffic was terrible before there were 200,000 more people in town.

The strip clubs on Bourbon Street have power before your house does.

The Salvation Army, a firefighter from Michigan, and cops from Wauconda show up at your house to make sure that you are OK.

There is a pirogue on your roof.

You return to your home and all of your belongings fit into two boxes.

Contraflow just doesn't seem so bad.

You have to purchase hip boots to walk in your neighborhood.

You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.

Lakeview becomes Lake.

The crosses on your wall and kitchen counter top remain despite the five feet of water in your house.

You know what it truly means to miss New Orleans.

My Hurricane Katrina Story - Part I

I live in New Orleans and have been meaning to post my personal Hurricane Katrina story here. I have been corresponding with an out-of-town friend who is asking me questions about, as we commonly call it here, The Storm. I thought posting our emails here would be a good start to my story. His emails are in red; Mine are in blue.

I hadn't realized you were down there. You survived, obviously, no thanks to Bush.

Carlos and I evacuated to Montgomery, Alabama for five weeks, but have been back since the beginning of October. New Orleans has a long way to go before it's back to normal. I could tell you many stories.

I was lucky: My house only had some wind damage - but no flooding - and I didn't get laid off from my job. (They let almost 70% of the employees go.)

How did you find a house on high enough ground there not to have flooding?

Contrary to what was shown on the news, not all of New Orleans was under water. I think the reported statistic was 80% of New Orleans flooded. That might be true, but it's misleading. That stat only counts Orleans Parish - New Orleans - not metro New Orleans. I live in Jefferson Parish, the next parish over, though I still live about seven miles from Bourbon Street. New Orleans is very compact.

My area of town didn't get ANY flooding. We did lose electricity for almost a month.

To Be Continued...